Seanachai

Why don't you ask him instead of speaking in the third person like a git? insert smiley here </font>

Originally posted by some Newbie Git Who Was At Least in There Pitching... Doing as I'm told - as a stupid but disciplined grunt. Copy/paste : G'day to you all ! First things first, let's have a wee bit of introduction : I'm Kobal2, I'm French (so hide the frogs and turtles you may have, cause I'll EAT THEM), and even though I may be only 22 and have kind of a hot blood at times, I will do my best not to flame anyone just for the kicks. For at least 36 seconds. I must also own up to the fact that I'm quite the "silly bugger", and enjoy nothing more than stirring up an argument about something dear to you, then watch you scream and squeal in anger while laughing in an armchair, with a healthy supply of popcorn and saucisson of course. Now, to the point : I've been playing all three CM games (though I've only got CMAK installed and modded right now - bloody full blown system crash a few days ago) for some time now (4, 6 months, maybe ?) against the AI, and have gotten somewhat good at it - let's say no more than 4 major defeats out of 5. With overwelming odds in my favor of course. Witnessing such an outstanding (and boring, of course - as constant victory is) success against the AI, I feel it is time for me to beat the hell out of you old and decrepit fools, from whom I've been reading so much in the past months. So, without further ado, I'd like to get one of you into a PBEM game with me. Now, although I've been lurking this forum for quite some time now, I must admit I haven't identified most of you, but I'd like to meet with experienced fellows first - if they'll give me pointers and constructive criticism afterwards of course. Nothing like getting your arse properly kicked about to learn the fast way. I prefer scenarios to quick battles, since the latter have a propension to become very one-sided from what I've seen, while scenarios are engineered to somewhat even the forces (I know, I know, it's not historically correct, since a commander worth his salt will always try to attack where he'll be 5 to 1, but it's a game after all). On a side note, I like to play the germans or French Foreign Legion (toughest outfit in the world ! And dumbest too !) mostly, and since the AI is awfull at attacking, I've always played the attacker, so I'd like to start with that role. Also, I don't like the "whole Tigers and King Tigers" thing, so you can expect reasonnable forces from me - one Panther/Tiger at most, but mostly regular Panzers/Marders/JadgP etc... Oh, and for the time being I'd rather have small ops - size of the map doesn't matter, but too many forces to manage and I'm overwhelmed. Think 500 - 1500 point battles first. Now, which...one of you...bitches...wants to dance Sigh. Shaw...Justicar...Old Foul Joe... I think we have to make a Cesspool adjustment. Even with the Rules, as magnificently as you maintain them, and maintain their validity, and demand their observance... It's simply not possible for all the New Arrivals to follow the long history of this Thread. Hell, I started the son of a bitch, and I can barely keep up with it, sometimes. We can't continue to tell them to 'Challenge An Individual', and then hit them with the conflicting 'But make sure it's another complete and utter tosser like yourself'. For one thing, in many cases it would take a scholar of some standing to sort out the newly arrived and useless 'tosser' from the long-standing and honoured 'tosser'. Also, how the hell would even some poor, half-witted bugger who'd made a point of reading several these ever revolving Threads to sort out everyone? We simply can't expect every bold Childe Roland to have followed a Thread of this length from it's earliest days. Hell, we're getting buggers who've read several of its incarnations, and even been coached by that lot of bloody vulgarians in the Goodaler thread (a tip o' the hat to our half-wit brethren in the 'Minors' thread), and they still are at sea. How can we abuse them for not playing by the rules, when the Rules are almost impossible to play by? So, I make this recommendation, and it was I, if anyone remembers, that first said 'You should always pick out an individual to Challenge'. Ah, those were heady days! When the interplay of wits was like the steely sounds of the thrust and parry of swords! Actually, even back then most of you were like a lot of bullocks shoving to get to the drink first, but an old man has his memories, so piss off, you revisionists. I think we should revise the General Rules to: Challenge like an individual of wit and standing, who wishes to enter into a game with those for whom the Challenge and the play of the game are as important, if not more important, than winning itself. If your challenge is good, if you speak well, and amuse, and are found worthy and interesting, someone will step forward, or send forth their twisted minions, to play against you. The Thread is simply too large, long-standing, and convoluted, Joe, to expect every Wannabe to sort it all out. This is where your whole 'Send them on Quest' comes into play. That was good, and spoke well for you. In many cases, every new initiate should, for example, be expected to read all of the 3,000 plus posts of the Original Thread (perhaps while wearing their underwear on their head), as befits those who've chosen to enter on a 'long, strange trip'. But we can no longer expect every prospective member to climb Everest simply to be told 'Piss the Feck Off!' I thought, for example, that Kobold2, or whatever the feck his name is, was in there and trying hard. I would have demanded that some other Newbie git give him a game. Although I admit that the 'bitches' thing was over the top, and mindless. But cut him a break. He'd fallen in with bad company. He'd gone to the Wafflers. It is a mark of his quality that that group of naughty children sent him to us. So, Kobold2 (yes, I know what your real screenname is, and I'm not concerned with it; I may be championing your right to be here, but I could give a butterfly's fart about you or your desires. At least until you prove to me you're worthy), post your challenge again. And you may make it as general as you wish, but in your wording and heart, make it a Challenge to a single individual, although you do not, at this time, know what his or her name might be. If you Challenge well...they will come. Or we'll make some of the stupider and more annoying ones play you. It amounts to the same thing. Hell, if your Challenge is really good, I'll play you myself, and then you'll come to know all the alleys of Hell. I'd expound upon what I've said, but some of our more simple readers would have hit their limit for any given 24 hour period, and be completely incapable of understanding what was said to them until another day, possibly leading to a loss of employment, or at least a certain amount of confusion in their normal lives of grunting, scratching, and ignoring literature and the higher emotions. The next one of you snotty-nosed children who makes a major point of how many words your elders and betters use, I will pursue them with all my powers of ridicule and satire. Which, while they may not be considerable, I doubt that any of you could withstand for long. Gods love Geier, with his comment upon playing tennis against a wall, which he found to be simply relentless, and never missing a stroke. I shall be like that Wall Unto You All, that misdoubt my powers. Gods, but it's been long enough since we had a jolly sing-song! Who'll lead off, then?

I'm tall on my back, Lady.

I'm choked with admiration for this byplay. No, I'm not. Boo, send Dalem a bloody setup. If I settle two more such impassable conflicts, I'm allowed to monitor recess without the aid of any Higher Power. Dear God, you bastards are making me long for that fire in the Wasteland, with nothing more to do than sit there by the fire, the stars above, passing a bottle of dreams around the circle of Peng, Berli, and myself. I linger here yet, on this familiar shore. A little help, eh?

Hmm. Works just fine if you substitute 'Cesspooler' and 'Cesspool' in the appropriate places. Every legionnaire is your brother-in-arms regardless of his nationality, race, or religion. You will demonstrate this by the strict solidarity which must always unite members of the same family. This should, of course read: Every Cesspooler is your brother-in-arms, not regardless but despite nationality, race or religion. And that you will demonstrate this by the way in which you will hate them, before all others, as though you were members of the same, horrible, dysfunctional family. Respectful of traditions, devoted to your leaders, discipline and comradeship are your strengths, courage and loyalty your virtues. Well, this all sounds very nice, but it's complete ****e. Here, of course, while respect for traditions are almost pathologically important (see the Justicar), and devotion to 'leaders' usually devolves to 'abusing them first amongst those equally hated', the strengths of most of this lot are the ability to lift their own weight in stupidity, and their virtues are a certain insouciant attitude towards everything but insouciance itself. I rather like that part, personally. Pity most of you are like half-wit children in its execution...but you're my half-wit children...now excuse, I must bathe after saying that... Proud of your status as legionnaire, you display this in your uniform which is always impeccable, your behaviour always dignified but modest, your living quarters always clean. This, with some re-working, also works. As Cesspoolers, you are proud, proud as the bull is strong! You have no uniforms, of course (perhaps we should have t-shirts, or sweatshirts; at the very least, a Cesspool bill cap...) so it should be your air of mockery that is impeccable, your behaviour always dignified but immodest, and your living quarters...well, dear God, those of you without wives probably live in circumstances that would cause rats to flee. Good on you. An elite soldier, you will train rigorously, you will maintain your weapon as your most precious possession, you are constantly concerned with your physical form. Well, as an elite group of complete and utter bastards, you should maintain your ability to taunt like others would polish an expensive auto, or show off a fabulous boat, or display an extremely hot trophy wife. But you, as an elite corps of complete and utter fools, know these things to be fleeting, pointless and hideously expensive, while being a well-spoken idiot and a devotee of the camaraderie of the Art of the Taunt, know that possessions, accomplishments, and hot chicks all fade, but that a really masterful taunt will live forever in bars, dives, and pubs across the globe, and be repeated with reverence by the gamut of humanity, from nuclear physicists to Australians, prefaced by the solemn line: "And do you know what the bastard said then? He said...", followed by the laughter of the entire room. So what would you? Do you want BMWs, Yachts, Wealth, and hot blondes willing to cater to even the most perverted tastes in order to enjoy the former? Or do you want to Challenge, and honour Peng?! Yeah? Well you might have a chance at turning a good Challenge, so learn to live with the possible. Pillocks. A mission is sacred, you will carry it out until the end respecting laws, customs of war, international conventions and, if necessary, at the risk of your life. Sounds like the Justicar's territory, here. He knows how you sorry lot of sods should go about being a sorry lot of sods. More power to him. It's all I can do to decide which of you can taunt for a ****e, I can't be having with all the necessary rules and procedures and who pissed on who's shoes wrong while observing the proper obeisance, and such. Mind, it's dreadfully important work. That's why we have some annoying but extremely wise bugger to do it. All hail that anno- er, who's for a jolly sing-song about the glory of the Justicar. Anyone? In combat, you will act without passion and without hate, you will respect the vanquished enemy, you will never abandon your dead or wounded, nor surrender your arms. This last bit rings truer than anything else, and fits almost with only the most necessary alteration. We should, in some form, incorporate this into the Official Rules, as constantly, strenuously, and pathologi- er, that is, properly, maintained by the Justicar. In Challenge, you will act with passion, but without hate. You will respect the complete and utterly stupid buggers you taunt, and you will never abandon the principals of the Cesspool, nor surrender your air of mockery and humour. So help you Peng. In the previous year, often by the passion of the times we live in, many of us have fallen lower than the standards we would wish for this place. And I point the finger as firmly at myself as anyone else. Of course, should any of you useless buggers point the finger at me, prepare to find that, short as I am, I have a strong pair of incisors and rather relish the taste of human flesh, and know that in the years to come in every bar you go to you'll be known as 'So and So Nine Fingers, who mocked that bugger Seanachai of the Peng Challenge Thread'. Of course, that's all simple rhetoric. You'll never be known that in a pub. Too many words. You'll simply be known as 'that stupid fingerless bugger'. Ah, I'm starting to hit my stride, which means that I've already lost the ability of most of you fools to stay with me, so I will begin a new post. [ May 28, 2004, 02:23 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

I find this to be such a sad, tragic picture. Great photos at that site...too bad it costs so much to get a real Zelma or Khaldei photo. </font>

I've seen your back yard, and it needs serious work, lad. Plus, from the 'Lawn of Fire' aspect, there's no good way of quick escape. As opposed to the street out front, upon which I can escape in any and all directions. Jesus,Dalem, have you no shame? Aren't you going to do more with that backyard? I mean, seriously, I'd be ashamed to pass out drunk in that yard...

Which would be an improvement on how Joe normally dresses I imagine. </font>

Whenever I experience pain while eliminating I just think of eliminating on your gnomitty self, and the pain goes away. </font>

And now, to make an honest return on the powers of the Cesspool, the well-wishes and prayers of who's members are far more powerful than those members are in the Real World, I would just like to announce that my sister Kat had her 'midway' scans a few days ago, and they show her lymph nodes are shrinking, which means that the cancer appears to be responding to the Chemotherapy, and that she now appears to have a pretty good chance at recovery. There are a couple of anomalies that will have to be double-checked, and it will be another few weeks before they do some scan called a PET scan (apparently to make sure that other organs and such are still clear of the cancer, rather than to determine if ferrets and guinea pigs have taken up residence), but for now, the Oncologist is happy and guardedly confident with the progress of her treatment. Besides being good news in general, this means that my sister has agreed to continue with the treatment, which also means that she'll still probably be vomiting and feeling weak, which will allow me to tease her unmercifully, and constantly score off her in our exchanges of sarcasm, as her Chemo-riddled wits fail to function as quickly or as clearly as my own. Ha ha! Life is good. It's interesting to note, of course, that even while horribly dehydrated, vomiting, and shot full of mind-clouding anti-nauseants, she's still quicker and wittier than you lot. Which means, of course, that I tower over you all like some giant out of legend. Okay, perhaps that was a bit of hubris there, but you have to remember I'm happy. Or drunk. No, wait, I'm definitely happy. Someone fetch my large, oafish but endearing henchman Boo, so I may stand upon his shoulders and lead the whole Cesspool in a series of rousing ballads!

Yeesh. What a shameful thing to admit. Were you sleeping with it taped to your forehead again, in a demented attempt to somehow subliminally master the game?

Don't do it, Shaw. You'll wake up with your underpants on backwards and your shirt buttoned up wrong... I imagine the dog got a roofy to, eh, Stuka? I imagine Colin, the poor wee bugger, is still experiencing pain while eliminating. Well, well, against all expectations, or anything approaching justice, Stuka isn't dead. I suppose I'm 'chuffed'. Welcome back, you Aussie git.

You wait until then? I think waiting until noon shows enough restraint.

Silence, you bugger. I may be Kitty's to make mock of, but not yours, Monsieur 'My Underpants Always Fit My Caliber, Which is Too Tight'. I'm your Ramekin, Lady Kitty. C'mon, and fill me up. You know you want to. Bugger. I think I should go to sleep. I think I'm suffering from classic cooking role reversal...

This is how you treat your tailor?? </font>

You want to cook for me, don't you? I may be a fool, but a fool can always tell...

Hickory, Maple, or Oak?

You know that word??? I'm almost impressed. </font>

You make me sad. Is this why Achilles lay with wine dark maidens by the seas of Troy...or whatever. Listen to Grog Dorosh, lad, and lose your immortal soul. That bastard. Chin up, stiff upper lip, and try to remember, you're British!

Best juxtaposition of two posts on this freakin' thread in a fecking coon's age (no, Gunslingr 3, put the robe and hood away, I meant 'racoons'). Kudos to Dalem and that bastard Emrys for the first good laugh I've had in ages. Jesus, I'm still wiping the tears away. I'd tell my own 'what should I have done' story from a lunatic doper friend of mine, but it would seem...anticlimax.

You do realize that his father was one of the Midwest's preeminent Communists, don't you, you pillock?

And yet we are still subjected to your vile, Aussie prattle! How much disgust will we all be subjected to, eh? Here's hoping that your fondest dreams get entangled in the dingo-fence! looks about Yeah, I'm after looking for a fight. Piss off, you lot! Bloody Aussies! They give you the red arse, don't they just, though? Mind, it was better when Goanna was first amongst Aussie scum. Probably best if we put Mace in charge of this lot...

Hell yes. Do you know how much garlic you have to use to make the buggers palatable?

dalem that made even less sense than usual ... have you been after the copier toner again? Joe </font>

Silence! Has anyone noticed how Hortlund is constantly begging for a cuddle? Disgustin'!