Seanachai

Hey, Dalem, I was flipping channels the other night and ended up settling on a station for a few minutes that was showing one of those 'real' police shows. I think it was 'Cops'. They were showing off the gun they'd just confiscated at this drug-dealers place. It was a 12 gauge combat shotgun with a folding stock/pistol grip style thing, mounted with a revolving drum that held 12 shells, and I think they described it as a 'street-sweeper'. I want you to buy one. I think squirrels in the Twin Cities are developing a real attitude, and I think that we could teach some arboreal vermin a real lesson in civility with that thing. Not to mention clearing out huge tracts of 'Lebensraum' in your neighbourhood...

I am not a 'merry' man...

And Here's the other one. *KICK* </font>

Oofff! Good morning, all! This week, the patron deity of the Church of Seanachai will be manifesting himself as 'Libelous', the god of Character Assassination and Vulgar Gossip. Heads up, everyone! Religion could be looking your way!

trill, Trill...TRILL! Seanachai Hello? Berli Are you okay? Seanachai (checks) Yeah? Berli I am so going to kick you in the fork. Seanachai Really? Hell, what does that make, now, like, 400 kicks? Why don't you just have your foot grafted there? Berli What the hell are you doing? Seanachai Making breakfast. Berli What's that gurgling noise? Seanachai Breakfast. Berli Liquid bacon? Seanachai Jameson's Berli urrrk. For breakfast? Seanachai I slice a banana into it. Berli Go online and post in the Thread. Seanachai Okay. Why? Berli So that I can sleep again sometime this century, you unbelievably obscene expletive deleted Seanachai You sure our touchy before you've had your banana, aren't you? Berli Die, die, die! Seanachai All in good time, my lad! Berli Everyone thinks that you're not coming back. Seanachai Don't be silly, Berli. If I don't post, who will teach the little children to hate Australians? Berli You said you weren't going to post anymore! Seanachai I say a lot of silly tripe! That's strange... Berli What? Seanachai I can't find my boots...

Done, then. I'm not after posting here anymore. You've been a great lot. [ February 04, 2004, 02:52 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Day One Shoveling, 6" snow: Yeah! That snow knows it's been shoveled! Kick arse! It makes you feel like a real man to get out here and deal with Nature's attempt to shut us down! Day Two Shoveling, 8" snow: Ummm...you know, there's a great sense of satisfaction you get from seeing how clean the sidewalks are, and realize how much easier it is for people to get around Day Three Shoveling, Final shoveling and after Plow Cleanup: SHOOT ME. Someone please shoot me.

snarls Shut up, you bugger! Now, everyone repeat after me! The...oh sod all for a lark. How 'bout a jolly singsong? Everything slips, through these cold fingers like trying to hold water, trying to hold sand close your eyes and make a wish and listen to the singer one more round, bartender pour a double if you can...

Now, now! That's not the way a Young Lady of Quality asks for a beverage. Repeat after me: Good Evening, Mace. Could I prevail upon you to fetch me a fine Australian malt beverage? You know how I delight in the piquant brewing culture from Down Under. Be a good fellow, and get me another fine beer.

You must always come into The Thread. holds a pure, mountain stream ice cube between his lips and in front of his teeth, and sucks Irish whisky through it like an old Slovenian woman taking tea with sugar, then spits the ice cube out on the floor... Feck This! Where's sodding Ales Dvorak?! Where's a setup, eh? What does a man have to do around here to get a game against some lousy Slovenian...er, Jolly Fellow? It's not the same for you, Dorosh, you bastard. Send me a setup. [ January 31, 2004, 12:26 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Actually, no. That was...captivating. What I meant was, I want to see less of is all this ****e that wouldn't even make Bauhaus do much more than raise a finger in a lame 'point of order'. You, Kitty, remain quite incorrigible, and when you do that voodoo that you do so well, people sit up a bit straighter, as it were. But that is your genre. You must understand that we have to keep the lackwits in order. Do you really want to wander in here, and see some halfwit bastard going "hur, hur, hur, that Kitty's a caution! She inspires me to become a cunning linguist!" I think not. Now, put Mace's fecking clothes back on, spit on your palm and smooth the poor bugger's hair back down (which is, you nasty sods, standing up all around his hea—skull!), and make nice.

Nice touchhh.. </font>

Nice touchhh.. </font>

Stop that! Stop that, all of you lot! (Kitty, carry on; you will anyways... ) I specifically posted that remark about Sailors Francaise to see who'd rise to take the bait. Kitty, I never had any doubts about you. I knew you'd always...well, we're not going there. NOR WILL ANY OF THE REST OF YOU, BY GOD! Now, I'm deeply concerned by the rather blatant outbreak of 'Bauhausismus' that I've seen here lately. Yes, I blame Kitty, but you've all been getting...well, a bit 'randy' lately. A bit too deep into the 'double entendre'. A bit long in the pants and short in the head. I want it to stop. I didn't get to where I am today by making off-colour...wait one...actually, yes I did. I got where I am today by a veritable snowstorm of low, vulgar, silly humour. And where am I? Unemployed, broke, with a partially stripped automobile sitting in a body-shop yard. Aging, alone, living in a threatened rental property, quoted by Dorosh, and with Emrys's poetry on my hard drive. Oh, and Berli calls me 1-2 hours after he knows I've gone to sleep almost every weekend. And I post here with you lot. Not many men achieve their dreams. Not many have what it takes. I'm proud to find that, despite all the temptations, the illusionary 'shortcuts', and social pressures to 'achieve', that I've had what it takes to hold on to my dreams. I'm exactly where I always knew I would be. I blame Hunter S. Thompson.

A thunderous crashing of guns, plumes of smoke, and cheers, as, with all sails set, La Grenouille Frenetique sails gloriously onto the screen! Amidst many cries of 'Alors', and 'Mordieu', and 'Zoot!' we see Seanachai, white plume tugged by the breeze, sword rigidly erect, stride into sight. Seanachai: calls out My Queen! Fair Emma! I am here! Here to rescue you! ...Hallo? Commoder Berli? Dalem? Meeks? Where the hell is everyone? My Queen? Look, I know there's been a bit of a delay, but first we had to re-mast the ship. And then, well, the crew is French, you know, so there was a bit of a national strike. And then there was a, well, perhaps a bit of a lengthy delay at the duty free on Martinique...which, of course, led to a bit of delay while we sorted out certain, errr...well, matters of rowdy behaviour. But here I am! Ready to battle that bastard Meeks, flay that treacherous dog Dalem, and generally show up that ponce Berli! Anyone? Bugger. Last French crew for me, to be damn sure! I mean, what's a heroic chap like me doing surrounded by French seamen? I knew I should have stuck with Boo and my various Squires and ex-Squires. I would have, but they're such a shower of gits. Ah, well. Time to get a new crew, and begin the trip back to my beloved homeland, across the wine dark seas, where I know that all await my return, patient as the hills!

Walks all around the above post, quietly studying it from every angle Oh shut the hell up. Jesus. I post better drunk than you do sober. 'I'm you mental superior'? Someone get me a bloody ale. Bugger Democracy. I'm an advocate of Theocracy. As the deity of the Church of Seanachai (and it's only practicing member), I'd have you slit and stuffed full of burning sulphur quicker than you can sing the Horst Wessel Lied. I found your deconstruction of 'democracy' as amusing as an After School Special about 'The Young Adolph'. But you're right. Lackwits are better off worshiping a dictator. Kneel and kiss my boots.

Seanachai What i' the name of all the gods?! What canard piled on all that canvas?!! R Leete But Master! We must away, to save the Queen from what fate must not be spoken! Seanachai Oh, don't be a halfwit, man. She's a grown woman! She's got more children than you've got IQ points! She's quite familiar with what fate must not be named! Seanachai Christ on a crutch, attempting to engrave a tattoo! My ship dismasted...my henchmen almost as drunk as I am... Curse Berli! contemplates Seanachai Sod it. Boo, break out the Ninja piloted jet-skis! See if you can catch up with Shaw's fecking ship! broods Seanachai It's not right for my Oeuvre, but I will not be seen as approaching the Queen rearmost! That is, I will not approach our Queen hindmost. That is..oh, sod this for a lark! Someone get me a fecking ale!

I ask myself: When was the last time MrSpkr, who I beat like a gong in our last game, shuffled in here to clean my shoes with the sleeve of his Armani suit, and called me 'Master'. My quite civil response to myself was: 'Ah, Seanachai! He still pretends that he doesn't need to do so!' I consider. I ponder. I realize that certain Lawyers have not yet lost enough. Enough to make them humble. Enough to make them wise. Enough to make them realize that above Man, there are Olde Ones. Steve, I think you should lose more. You'll be the better man for it. Send me a setup.

Isn't there a men's room somewhere that you should be cleaning? </font>

GET BACK, YOU CURS! How wondrous. How perfect. How magical. It's like finding a virgin posting a personals ad in the style 'nice white boy wants to meet single white girl for dirty fun' in a newsletter devoted to reporting serial crimes. Javaslinger, I honour you. Please send me your actual address. Someday, perhaps while on vacation, I'd like to come and visit you, and perhaps eat your family pets. Did Hannibal Lector have to deal with challenges like this? I think not.

Good Me Almighty. Flight sims, football, and, finally, snowboarding. This is the most extraordinary pre-Mid-Life crisis I've ever encountered. I can't remember when I've been more perturbed. Oh, well, except for that period when Bauhaus was playing snowboard computer games. That was just unnatural. What has wrought this change? I'd like to think it was some sort of deep emotional trauma dating back to an incident in your past that you're trying to sublimate beneath a round of vulgar behaviours, rather than that you've become some sort of pillock. But I forgive you, in any case. You'll always be the Herald of the Cesspool to me. Even when I take you out behind the barn with a borrowed .22 rifle for that last hug and then your long, long journey to a better place, I'll always have a catch in my voice when I speak of you. Excuse me, everyone. There's something in my eye, and I must react. I'm off to buy some hollow-points.

Yes, well, 'hyberbole' is one of my trademarks. Of course. It does you credit that you recognize the satirical intent. No prob, actually. I'm almost completely insane, and go off on all sorts of weird diatribes myself. I wouldn't let you off so easily, despite your extremely reasonable and mature behaviour, but I don't want to compromise the sense of complete disdain I feel for the creature that calls itself 'Newbiedragon'.

Somehow, this seems familiar. I was sitting in the Wasteland, and someone kept asking miracles of me that I might prove my divinity...tempting me...was that you, Shaw? No, wait, I tell a lie. That was Berli. So, you want Miracles, do you, Shaw? Well, how about the fact that I have never been banned from the Battlefront.com Forums?! What about that, eh? Wait! There's more! What about the fact that although I am, without a doubt, a hateful little man, Emma, our Fair Queen, actually likes me? Wouldn't you call that a miracle, Mr. Joe 'Doubting Thomas' Shaw? And what about the fact that all the nations of the World have surrendered their sovereignty to me, and I currently rule the earth, eh? Doesn't that pretty much fall into the miracle category? I would think that with proofs like that, even you, Shaw, would have to accept my godhood (however tentative). Oh, and I'd appreciate if you didn't mention my having sovereignty over all the nations of the earth just yet, as that isn't generally known and might raise a few hackles until we've had a chance to launch the main PR effort.

Ummm...Fair One, I find it highly advisable, when dealing with Boo, to be extremely cautious in how I phrase things. You've done well in keeping the phrasing short and straight-forward but you should also strive to be precise and very, very clear on what you mean. Basically, my Queen, don't look for Boo to handle all the possible variations of meaning in what you say. All the little niceties of expression. It's not his forte. Short, sweet, and brutally simple is better when dealing with Boo. He's a wonderful henchman, believe me. Ut-bay ot-nay oo-tay ight-bray, if you take my meaning. I'd hate for you to shout 'Cut me down', and for him to revert to his 'simple woodcutter from the Fairytales' personna.

Isn't there a men's room somewhere that you should be cleaning?