Seanachai

Sod off, you lot! You too, Dave H, don't think I don't see you buggering about down there. It was late, I was tired, and the dog ate my notes about just how bloody awful the Goodalers are, so I had to ad-lib something in a regular thread. Besides, we of the Peng Challenge Thread have a long and honourable history of helping people in threads (other than the Cesspool itself). I may not be a Grog, but I do play the bloody game, I've been playing it for donkey's years now, and I've been reading this Forum for even longer than that. Say, a parrot's years. Give or take a year or two. So I'm at least as capable of answering 'basic' questions as you lot of soiled ladies undergarments. And I'm only 'rude' to those who come in here and start off like God handing out tablets on the mountainside. Sigh. It's not working, is it? Er...well, let me see... RUDY, YOU HORRIBLE LITTLE MAN! ARE YOU BLAMING YOUR CREWS FOR YOUR OWN FAILURE TO TAKE ALL CONDITIONS INTO ACCOUNT?! BLOODY WELL RIGHT YOU ARE, LAD! It was still a good question, though.

Well, he could be talking about playing the Japanese </font>

The barroom opened. Saxon and Finnegan went in and drank beer, Texas beer only, nothing else was cold. And Saxon was angry. "There should be a punishment to fit the crime," he said. "We did but ask a drink in the the name of Christ and you give us this. It were better in that hour, it were better in that hour—" "What were better in that hour, little granite face?" the bargirl asked. "For less than this they did penance in Nineveh. God will punish you for this, young lady." "Bet he don't. Some of the places handle beer from the states, but I don't know why they bother..." "The Devil Is Dead" R.A. Lafferty GJK, I'm beginning to be amused by the sound of your patois. The hideous twang of your Texarkan accent, while it grates on the ear like someone slowly rubbing a file over the edge of a mollusc shell (except for those months with an 'r' in them), is starting to take on a certain droll acceptability to me. I imagine that, if you promised not to breed, you might even be allowed to emigrate North. And yes, lad, New Jersey is every bit as bad as anything you can imagine. Well, primarily northern New Jersey (one for your side, I suppose). Southern New Jersey is no worse than northern Ohio (although the accent is far more horrible than even a Texan accent).

Dear God...that was almost like an apology. Witness now the power of the Ladies of the 'Pool! sniffle An apology. After all this time, and me an annoying World Class swine. I'm going off to have a good cry, that I am. No, everyone else stay seated, and discuss this very intriguing and helpful topic. I'm going to go re-evaluate the entire course of my life. I'll probably still be an annoying pillock, but I enjoy going over some of the more amusing bits, like the whole Cabron thing. Carry on.

Jefferson Airplane...no, wait...Strawberry Alarm Clock?

I don't mind Grog Porn, but this 'Neo-Cricket' Porn is too sodding much. Desist, oh Boo.

All is forgiven, Buzzsaw. Welcome back.

I thought there was something sinister about you...

Goodness! Have you sat down and examined why you think they do? Don't project, lad. It's all very straight-forward, unless your own issues have muddled the trail. And why are you ignoring the Aussie-bashing? What does it take to get through to you primitive pouched mammals? Some form of simple, English/International Symbol system of Aussie abuse? There may be a market there, one never knows...

Texicans, lad, simply aren't capable of intelligent evaluation, hence, there are no beta testers from Texlahoma. I mean, we're talking about a State of the Union in which the inhabitants decide whether they're pleased or frightened by whether they've pissed on their own feet. And even that process of evaluation takes up to six minutes. But you have my sympathy. The fact that Illinoisans are allowed to evaluate anything other than their own likelihood of being jailed strikes me as wrong. Illinois, for the foreigners, is the New Jersey of the Midwest.

Yeah, right up him! I think we'll let Mace keep him... </font>

I am after putting together...a musical collection. A CD to send to all the useless little lads, as it were. I'm going to call it: The UberGnome Collections. Stuff that most of you dangling bits of rejected manhood will never hear any other way. But I'm having troubles figuring out how exactly to organize it, in terms of 'Cesspool, Sadness, Humour, Seanachai's Demons' Bloody iTunes is the greatest sodding tool in the 'Dancing and Juggling Bears' repertoire of the Universe for putting together a really, really great collection of very personalized sing-songs. Oh, and I'd hate you all with the fierceness normally reserved for ingrown toenails and politicians, but you are all my little lambs, and I have a hard time forgetting how I watched each and every one of you stupid buggers find your feet in this long, long, ongoing Thread. I'd say, 'who's up for a jolly sing-song', but that's where the problem is, you see? How to organize all the lovely, lovely songs that I've listened to while reading the utter, vile, useless gibberish that you lot have been cranking out for simply ages. [ October 29, 2003, 04:19 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

5 The use of the term 'love viper', and all those like it, are an Abomination in the eyes of Seanachai! Any 'macho/cutesy play on the concept of 'penis'. Call a spade a spade, and also stop dancing around the fact that you think your rather unimpressive ordinance for urination is some sort of 'thunderbolt' sent down to amaze mortals. We are not impressed. They are not impressed. You should not be impressed, and the fact that some of you are still shaking the rattle, beating the drum, and chanting like a Shaman who's loan's being called in by the Goddess should tell you more than you should ever want to know about how you should just shut the hell up about all that coiled manhood you imagine is residing between your thighs. It's not, lads. Al that 'springing adder sexuality' is rather more a bad stain on oft washed, lonely sheets than any sort of reality. But go ahead and posture some more, and pretend like you're the 'striking snake penis gift to womankind'. They laugh about us, even when they like us. They laugh a lot. They almost never stop laughing, in fact. In fact, the whole concept of War is pretty much a male response to the need to get away from the laughter and 'Kick Some Arse' in the name of not being laughed at quite so much by those goddamn sodding women. They simply don't understand anything about Real-Polotik. If it was left up to them, people without the will to eat their enemy's liver wouldn't be in position's of Authority. And where would we be then?

Yeah, right up him! I think we'll let Mace keep him...

Typical Pestilence 'aside' in an otherwise straight-forward bid to ignite heated debate. Michael, you don't always have to have a hook on which to hang the 'disease' thing.

I am returned! I said that aloud for the slower witted amongst you, who hadn't made that leap of intellect from my previous 3 or so posts. After a night of multiple Abominations, much raving, gratuitous insults offered to Outer Boarders, and a bit of pseudo-shouting at the rather humorous Griffincheng, not to mention a certain period of tenseness with the upstairs neighbour about how ridiculous it is that 'well, yes, I do have keys to all the apartments, but why would I be in your sodding apartment at 4 AM making ham sandwiches from your fridge' business, I find myself posting here once again. And I am not impressed. Buzzsaw isn't dead, but I'm not sure that's a rejoicing matter, and the latest crop of SSNs are rather sodden. The kind of people, in fact, who'd have a whole fecking refrigerator full of sliced ham, and no goddamn rye bread, just white bread, and horrible, 'Taystee' or 'Wonder' style white bread, at that, like eating well-cured sliced pig layered on unflavoured fecking slabs of marshmallow, what's this bloody world coming to, I ask you? But that's not what I came to talk to you about. No, it's simply this. You have, all of you, been a great group of people to get to know. You're like a huge, extended, dysfunctional family that the State simply hasn't gotten around to sending to Social Services yet. But things change, and people move on. Sometimes people find that the demands on their time and attention shift in unexpected ways. When I began this Thread, I never had any sort of clue as to what it would evolve into. Would I have proceeded to 'Challenge Peng', had I known? I like to think I would. To quote the Duchess in Pratchett's "Wyrd Sisters": "I've seen exactly what I am, do you understand, and I'm proud of it! I'd do it all again only hotter and longer! I enjoyed it, and I did it because I wanted to!"... "You gawping idiots!" she said. "You're so weak. You really think that people are basically decent underneath, don't you?" It's been a long, barking mad run of good fun and bad insults, thousands of posts of wit and gibberish, and too many late nights, too-early mornings, and jolly sing-songs. But... Life, as they say, goes on. Well, not mine, you clutch of overly-full, leaking colostomy bags. I will continue to post here, curse you all, until Berli opens a 'free hugs' booth at a local 'Wellness Faire', and Peng gets his own 'Mr. Rogers' style children's show, and the Four Horsemen ride out without benefit of a 30 post fecking colour commentary series of gibberish by Grog Dorosh, and the Justicar opts to ignore the sodding 'rules' in favour of some bizarre form of participatory Democracy, and some of you lot post something that makes me bloody laugh more than once a fortnight! Oh, and we discover that the previously unnamed and unrealized Tenth circle of Hell turns out to be the 'Hello Kitty' merchandising initiative. Given that that one's already come to pass, you buggers had better get to work on the others if you ever want to see the backsides of my own fine self. Wow. It takes it right out of you to write gibberish of that level of quality. Not that most of you would know. Back after a breather with a new round of 'Abominations'. [ October 28, 2003, 09:48 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Dear God, Hortlund, is that you holding the beer? What a scary looking bugger you are, and no mistake. I imagine the the next time we see that face will be in a International news story about a Hitchcockian, shower-scene stabbing Swedish mass murderer. Put on Mum's clothing lately?

No fears, Joe. You wouldn't believe how high I normally am. And that's almost all residuals from the 70s and 80s. If you're going to set the bar to my scale, you're going to have use hot-air balloons just to get a glimpse of me soaring above you lot. Go ask Alice, when she was just small...

You can have him for a pet </font>

What sort of tanks, and for which side? Keep in mind that the Russian tanks are all about unable to spot or maintain C&C unless they're unbuttoned (no radios). Thus you get the 'prairie dog' behaviour of them buttoning in order to fire, then popping open to find out what's going on, etc. Also, despite the horror of kacked TCs, any tank is more capable and more likely to react well to threats if it's unbuttoned. And just because you're aware of that sniper in the woods doesn't mean your little digital men are. They're reacting to the situation to within the limits of the needs of their combat tasks and knowledge. Combat Mission simulates the Real World. An abstracted game in which the player has total control and units behave exactly the same in every situation regardless of other stimuli might give you the control you seek. Chess is good. Or wargames by lesser companies.

Given my knowledge of that particular subject, I can assure you that you will be </font>

Demi-Gnome? Half-a-Gnome? That like half-a-man? Not everything working properly? Not surprising at your advanced age </font>

Neither kneel nor about face and bend at the waist! That's Uncle Seanachai, if ya know what I mean </font>

Ooo, sorry, Squire! Perhaps you'd like a bit more room to discuss a topic already done to death, and which BFC has already stated in this very thread will not be included in CMAK, but will have highest priority in CMX2? bobbing, pulling forelock, and grinning like a halfwit Will the Young Master be wanting anything before I piss off and torture meself for a bit in all due respect? Good on 'e, Master Pinetree! It's not fer the like o' me to presume. I'm not after presumin' you understand. I knows me place, sir, and I like to think I holds me place just as well as you holds your own. But while you're holdin' yer own, sir,and I'm after takin' my place to witness yer doin' so, could you tell me, sir, what it is I'm lookin' at? Because, sir, what I'm seein' is you standin', straddling the world like a veritable Colossus, with yer feckin' opinion in yer hand. Beggin' yer honour's pardon, I'm sure. Could I at least put on some sunscreen against the light shining out o' yer bum, yer honour, and could I put up an umbrella before you drench me with yer further opinions?

Laxatives would do your ego up a treat, lad. Try for something more substantial. RRRRRRHHHHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!! [ October 24, 2003, 12:12 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]