Seanachai

Thank you. It's not as much fun, of course, as teasing, taunting and tormenting people that, except for the fact that you hate them, you truly like. Occasionally we of the Peng Challenge must use our skills in disturbing ways. Many people, including many of our current, rather clueless participants, think that the Peng Challenge Thread is just some sort of weird club you go to to get a game of CM. It is, in fact, a rather strange club that you use to beat the other members with in the hopes of cracking their skulls and letting in the light of humour, and with it, concievably, intelligence.

It comes, I think, out of the experience of having children. Or, in many cases, watching that process. There's a general feeling of hopelessness surrounding the idea of getting the bad ones fixed or replaced, and a great deal of hope that the new ones will somehow be better. Of course, it's the same ignorant buggers that couldn't get the other ones working doing the 'buying', as it were.

Yes! I'm told we've just had a Challenge come in! Dear me, that wasn't very good, was it? Still, he's trying, now, isn't he? Ah, let's see. Alright, let's abuse an Australian, then. Noba, you're a fetid pile of dingo kidneys. And a git. Well, well, our first Challenge pledge. We are standing by the Thread right now, ready to abuse Australia and Australians for each Challenge posted here on the Peng Challenge Thread. Come on, people! How 'bout some real Challenges?! Something that merits some serious Aussie bashing! Gods above, if it continues like this, I'm going to have to start saying something nice about the bastards.

Apologies to the Justicar, and to all the folk of the Peng Challenge for responding to this...creature. But I think that it's important that the shunned and useless at least get a nod from one of the Olde Ones before they settle comfortably into Coventry, and we all settle comfortably into ignoring them. Because one never knows. Perhaps they never got attention when they were young, or perhaps aren't getting enough because they are young. There is this eternally springing hope that someone can come out of the darkness that resides up their own bum and walk in the light with everyone else. So I shall respond to the rather snotty little streak of piss that styles itself 'urefinger', and answer it's questions this once. To explicate the phrase 'sent to Coventry', I quote from Brewer's 'Dictionary of Phras and Fable': In other words, if you are sent to Coventry here, as you have been, we have so great a dislike of pointless little fools like yourself that we shall ignore everything you have to say in the future. Posted anywhere, for choice, but certainly here. The Knights of the Pool are simply a group, or, rather, a rather simple group, of long-time posters to the Peng Challenge Thread. At one point it was decided, in the way that all things here are decided, that simply being long-time posters to this Thread wasn't nearly shame enough, and that special notice should be taken of people who were accepted into this strange little society of people who know why you don't want to belong to a club that would have oneself as a member. In full, it comes from "Knights of the 'Cesspool'", a place to which this place has been compared. I find your final question about how much sand can be pounded up a vagina quite telling. Clearly you feel that the greatest insult you could give to this group of posters is to indicate that they have 'vaginas'. Go and tell your mother about how witty you are. Explain to her how funny and scathing your remark was. Strut about a bit more and explain to us our lack of wit, and pass on a few more hateful and vicious comments so that we can truly appreciate how important it is for a little child to assert himself by proudly displaying the unscrubbed stains on his underpants. Here in the Peng Challenge Thread we all have mothers. Many of us have sisters, quite a few have wives, and all of us have known women. And every single one of us can recognize a stupid child whose insults reveal his own vulgar emptiness and lack of experience. I read a quote somewhere that said that some men spend their entire lives trying to demean women because they are the first law-givers, the first ones to tell a self-centered and spoiled little ****e 'No!'. Now, why don't you scurry off and tell all your little friends that you used the word 'vagina' in a post on the internet. Sorry, Joe. On reflection, I posted less in any hope of reaching 'urefinger' than I did from the hope that some other young person might reflect on the fact that even on the Internet, one still has to be a real person before being accepted as one by others. But then, I'm the 'Nice One', and a bit of a dreamer. Urefinger may now resume his sojourn in Coventry. And don't feel too proud about 'wasting my time', lad. It's all I've got, of course. But I'm happy to spend a bit of it scraping my shoes in order to get rid of something like you. Just so you know, it's not like you're the first little tosser we've had come around jumping up and down with his underpants around his ankles demanding that we all look at him. Quite a few that are sure they'll never be accepted here do the same thing. It's a sort of 'pre-emptive sulkiness', I suppose. Now piss off. There's a useless little twit.

And here I thought the only weirdness we could lay at Grammont's door was being an unrepentant Right Wing Liberal (which is a bit like being a Libertarian, but without the gaping stupidity and/or the insanity that manifests itself as the certainty that the Queen of England is orchestrating the international drug trade while serving secretly on the the Tri-Lateral Commission). But I was wrong. Now we have to wonder what sick, disturbing secrets might be crouching like scorpions beneath the rock of his past, inadvertantly to be over-turned and discovered by the wandering New Jersey anchorite idiot Hiram Sedai. GRAMMONT! I don't care what sort of sordid and vile deeds you've engaged in and now seek to keep from the eyes of a judgemental world, for there's nothing that could be more reprehensible and disgusting than being nice to Hiram. Get a grip, man. Give him a member number in the 12,000 range and have him neutered, for Godssake.

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Right, then. Time for a new, public spirited sort of Thread. Go here to do your bit for international justice: Peng Challenge Telethon for Australia

Right, then. Welcome to the Peng Challenge Thread. We at the Peng Challenge have a long history of public service, commencing with the implosion and disappearance of our original Thread, posting continuously to make sure that more deserving threads like 'BFC, My Tank Died, Too Many Bugs For We Ubermenschen' always sink to the bottom of the page, and through such public works as hijacking, belittling, and eventually killing such idiotic threads as the 'Still Nothing to F'ing Say Third Redux of the Bren Tripod Thread'. Now, we turn our attentions to an international tragedy that simply won't go away: Australia. By challenging a single individual to a game of Combat Mission, and doing so in a witty, urbane, and thoughtful way, you can make a difference. The Peng Challenge Thread promises that for every well done taunt, every humourous challenge, we will savagely mock Australia, or an Australian, without mercy or conscience.* We've all seen the Australians prancing about this Board, and even the World, speaking their incomprehensible gibberish in their horribly decayed Pommie accents, mugging for cameras worldwide while grilling prawns and exporting only the worst sodding swill as their 'signature beer'. We've heard them calling themselves the Lucky Country, while inflicting Olivia Newton John, Paul Hogan, the Crocodile Hunter and Aussie Rules Football on a world already rent by turmoil and heartache. How many more times will we just 'look away', and pretend that it's the 'other guy's' responsibility to do something about these Down Under Hillbillies hopping about the world landscape with their under-developed young in their evolutionary dead-end pouches? Well, it stops now. And you can help. Please, the Peng Challenge needs your help. Make a taunt, a challenge, and make us smile while you do it. And we will put those drunken descendants of criminals in their place (staked out in the sun with bull ants swarming their privates). Please. Act today. Or do you want to watch 'Crocodile Dundee IV: Shock and Aweroight, Mate!' * Some restrictions apply. Do not base your taunts or challenges on your genitalia, other people's genitalia, or bathroom matters. Do not annoy or harass the Ladies of the Pool. Challenge a single individual, do not make pillocky general challenges that make everyone laugh at what a clueless, gormless lackwit you are. Challenges cannot be honoured if an email address and general location are not included in your profile. The Peng Challenge Thread reserves the right to send any bloody halfwit to Coventry for being a menace to good taste and Human Evolution by posting and existing in an utterly useless and annoying fashion. Challenges to Peng himself will not be considered unless they are unbelievably amazing. Please note that Australia, Australians, and the Lucky Country are now registered trademarks of the Peng Challenge Thread, and taunting and abuse of them is a violation of local laws without express written permission of the Olde Ones and the Knights of the Pool. Australians will be harmed in the making of this Thread. God bless you, Goanna, wherever you are. [ July 11, 2003, 06:30 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Somebody (can't remember his name, offhand) suggested it was time to start a new thread. Seems like a viable alternative. </font>

Should we actually ask what's meant by this, or should we just be filled with wonder that we live in a world that has within it MrSpkr, Imelda Marcos, Eddie Izzard and Baba Ram Dass. And that someday you might encounter all of them playing travel scrabble in a bus station in central Ohio.

Boggs, you fool, I've told you before. Peng is a misery, lying in a puddle, wrapped in an enema. He doesn't communicate with you because your, for lack of a better term we shall call 'mind', simply isn't cosmic enough to encompass him. Now, be a good lad and go give a kicking to all that lot of pillocks who're talking about swallowing canaries and forcing themselves on sandwiches. This isn't some sodding fetish chat room. The next thing will be you lot admitting that you're all closet 'Furries'.

Be honest, Boo. You ate the Cheeto, didn't you?

I think that we should start a new Thread soon. All that back and forth stuff involving Hiram and Moraine made me feel distinctly unclean. How can I send my teenage nephews in here if they're going to read things like that? I want them to realize that the human sexual experience is stimulating, fun, and enjoyable, not some sort of raree show involving mutants, which is the impression they're going to get from Hiram's recent series of posts. I'm with Shaw on this one. Hiram, and, for that matter, Lady Morraine: In the future, know that we are...er, well, 'happy' for you, and that the knowledge that you have 'found each other' fills us with joy. And a certain amount of relief, because if we can keep you concentrated, then the worst that can happen is a genetically unviable union. But please refrain from 'finding each other' in this Thread, as it is starting to put some of our readers off their food. In particular, please cease the use of descriptive terms that sound like they were lifted out of Penthouse Forum columns from the 1980s. Thank you for your attention to this matter.

Roight, then! I'm off for Canada until Monday. I will sit and enjoy the peace and quiet of remote lake, surrounded by nothing but the cries of the loons, the gentle susurrus of the wind in the pine trees, and the shrieking and shouting of six nephews and nieces, ages 6 to 17, as they fight, play, break things, and periodically demand that their Uncle 'sing the Polar Bear song again!' I hope you lot can manage to keep things together until I return, rested, refreshed, and longing for the quiet of the Eastern Front. For all the Americans, have a lovely Fourth of July weekend. For all the foreigners, aren't you glad that you're not Americans? Ta-ta, all.

Yeeech, get that pouting orifice away from me! That's disgusting. /SirReal </font>

Intellectual amateur! What this clearly indicates is that dingoes are twice as stable as you average Aussie. Which makes sense, because Australians are inherently unstable, if not completely bent. But, keep in mind that by 1 AM of any given pub night, the average Australian is also on all fours. The difference between them and the dingoes is that even when on all fours the Australian still falls over when he lifts his leg to have a slash.

Are you still alive? We haven't seen you in ages. Weren't we playing a game of CMBO? I declare myself the winner, Houdini.

Hmm the counter-balancing effect of the two images has left me feeling strangely neutral. Surprising that the horror imparted by an image of Noba in skin tight leather could be dispelled by anything, no matter how pleasant.

Actually, Boo, I quite like that. A Conspiracy of Dingoes. That is our Aussie contingent, now isn't it? Oh, and Boo, I think that for you, any age would be appropriate to be dragged off and eaten by dingoes. Perhaps with a little training and a team effort, we could still get the dusky little devils to make a go of you. [ June 30, 2003, 10:45 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Well, it would explain why one of my earliest memories is a voice growling 'maybe the dingoes ate your baby...' Ah, Boo. If only Lindy Chamberlain had been your Mom...

There's nothing wrong with sycophancy if it's properly targeted.

In the last month my rent has gone up because the City is leveling higher property taxes on the building, my car was ticketed, and a park I like is being threatened by budgetary cutbacks. Only a fool could fail to draw the conclusion that I am being persecuted by the government for my political beliefs.

And what about gold stars and the odd biscuit, eh? The odd biscuits are my favourites. In the game, just as in Real Life, all credit and praise for your victories accrue to people further up the chain of command than yourself. Consider yourself lucky to be allowed to play on the same team.

God Claims Responsibility For Australia Deity admits mistake, proclaims regret Reuters Geneva, Switzerland, June 30 — In a startling development that may have long-term impact on religion, God claimed responsibility for Australia at a press conference this morning in Geneva. Reporters had gathered to ask God questions regarding various puzzling aspects of Creation. One reporter asked God: “And Australia? What about Australia?” After a lengthy pause, God dropped his eyes and looked at where his feet would be, if, in fact, he was a corporeal being, and quietly said: “Yeah. I did that. I did Australia.” In the silence that followed the announcement, the Supreme Being went on to express deep regret over the act, and apologized to the rest of the planet for the confusion and heartache he had no doubt inflicted on so many. “You have to understand,” the Lord said, “that there were, well, circumstances. I’m not proud of the fact, and I don’t want to make excuses, but I was drunk at the time. Extremely drunk. I have very little recollection of the decision making process that led up to Australia.” When questioned about the fact that the British Empire had always been held responsible for Australia, God quickly moved to exonerate them. “Oh, the limeys have a lot to answer for, but not for this. Australia is all my fault, I’m afraid.” After God admitted that he’d created Australia while ‘dead drunk’, one reporter simply shrugged and commented: “He admits creating Australia while he was on a bender? I didn’t know there was that much beer in the whole universe.” God said that while he had no immediate plans to make restitution, he wouldn’t rule out doing so in the future. “I feel just awful about this,” spoke God. “But it’s such a relief to finally own up to it. The whole world has my apology. I’m not sure what else can be done, but I’ll do what I can to make this up. Maybe I could have the sea just swallow it up, or something. But we’ll have to wait until the tourism season’s over, I suppose.” When asked about the nickname ‘the Lucky Country’, Jehovah responded: “Spin doctoring. Pure and simple. I mean, if you woke up the next morning after an all-night drunk, and found you’d created a place full of marsupials, hopping rats the size of people, beavers with duck bills, and populated the whole place with the criminal classes of the British Isles who’d settled down to make beer a sacrament and spoke to each other in some strange slang that sounds like one of those languages that twins invent to talk to each other, wouldn’t you try to come up with something that made the whole thing sound like a good idea?” In his defense, God was heard to say after the conference: “I did try to put it as far away from everyone as possible, you know. Well, except for the Indonesians. But those sods had it coming.”

There Boo. There Lurkur. Shaw, why are we talking like this? Is it a new directive from the Justicariate?