Seanachai

You illiterate toad! Read Henryk Sienkiewicz, and you'll have read a real war story!

Boggs, bad limericks are 'putrid'. Bad clerihews are simply 'wretched'.

That's very apropos, as we're planning on doing the same thing to Mace when the time comes to have him put down...

Sigh. Another for the list of 'No versification in the 'Pool'. Desist, Boggs. That was wretched.

Your revolting suggestion regarding Latino boy bands has been duly noted and sent to the attention of the proper authorities. I'm sure a look into your breakfast habits would lead to your coming in a close second to Saddam Hussein in a poll of 'Most Despised Men on the Planet'.

I, too, Boo, can't wait to pilot my plucky 'Eternal Platoon' through the vagaries and twists of the entire war. After all, the very heart and soul of historically based gaming is the ability to take a group of young soldiers from first combat through five years of war, watching as they gain in wisdom, strength, and experience until your single platoon can take on even the most powerful enemy formations and come away the victor. And, after they've trained long and hard, fought enemy after enemy, what could be more fitting than the equipment upgrades that they deserve? I'm looking forward to the moment when my infantry squads receive their first shipment of laser sights and night goggles, or when my first tank unit is able to equip with 'Leopards', and can really kick some Soviet arse, showing those Ruskies that even though Germany might be on the brink of military collapse, this German unit has the tools that automatically come with superiour fighting ability! Now, having poked a bit of good-natured fun at our 'Campaigners', let me just say that I think the main problem with this 'request' is that coding a game that would handle both strategic and tactical combat well would be a rather large task. Most games that attempt both do neither particularly well, and I think attempting to graft some sort of jury-rigged 'strategic' level onto an excellent tactical combat game would do nothing more than detract from it overall. On the other hand, to spend the time and resources to make the strategic and tactical combat games seamlessly interface, and do both well, would, I imagine, be time-consuming and resource intensive, and seriously interfere with the engine re-write that most of the people on this forum would rather see sooner than later. There are many strategic level games out there, and some of them are good. There are even some operational level games out there. There are some tactical games out there, and Combat Mission seems to be the best of them. There aren't any games that I can think of that handle all three of these levels well. I see no point in Combat Mission becoming another of them.

Do you care to be a bit more specific? Your statement applies equally to any Kniggit. </font>

You do better if you hug them more. If you poke them with a stick, they just growl and show you their teeth.

Good stuff, Joe! I am still tenaciously clinging to my hatred of you, of course.

Bloody thieves. When I lived in Pompano Beach you could get those things for a couple hundred bucks out of any car trunk just off A1A. America's gone to the dogs with all this profiteering by right-wing gun-nuts.

Dalem doesn't think of himself as a hippy. Probably because he's a right-wing gun-nut who desires the eradication of all species except dalems...

Boo is sick in his mind! I say to you his talk is not true! I am standing on a rooftop in downtown Akron, and there is no presence of the Boo Radley infidel at all!

Well, if you wanna see the sun rise Honey, I know where We'll go out and see it sometime We'll both just sit there and stare Me with my belt Wrapped around my head And you just sittin' there In your brand new leopard-skin pill-box hat Come, Boggs! I will show you where the little iron exercise wheels grow!

Strange. I had thought we'd all be more similar. I play Combat Mission in my underwear. Of course, I wear the underwear on my head like a hat...

We could start a petition to have BFC label all Australian units in the war "Pommie Grenadiers", or something simialr, and change their unit insignia to hedgehogs or something. Of course, any labeling or depiction of Australian units for educational or historical purposes could remain unchanged. But the realistic depiction of Australian units in the entertainment or gaming industry is unconsciounable, as it merely helps them promote their agenda of silly slang, marsupial reproduction methods, and world drunkenness.

Please, no South Park. We may be the Cesspool, but we have certain standards to maintain. And one of them is: No product endorsements.

Now ,be honest :have you ever kissed a real live polar bear? konrad With or without tongue? Steve Great Fred loves you, Steve. He doesn't need such displays of affection to hold you forever in his heart (and temporarily within his digestive system).

"Andreas, you'll warn me before you try for indirect fire, won't you?"

"Andreas, you'll warn me before you try for indirect fire, won't you?"

Are you able to clean yourself up after these endless threads with just tissue, or do you have to get paper towels?

Alroight, then! Who's for a jolly sing-song?! I haven't had a go at those Down Under Pouch Packers in ages, so here's a new tune, with heartfelt apologies to Eric Bogle (of whom it should be noted, Fair Emma, began his life and career in Scotland before being 'transported' to Australia) The Gnome's Down Under Lament Now when I was a young man I carried a brief case And I worked nine to five in America And the almighty dollar, is what I did chase ‘Til some friends said ‘let’s fly to Australia’ So in 2003, I told myself “Son, It’s time to stop working, let’s travel and have fun.” So I called up my buddies, and the deal was soon done And we got on a flight to Australia. And we tried to sing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ As the plane lifted from the runway And amidst all the cheers, and a half dozen beers, We flew off for Oz that fine day. And I almost remember that very first day When we poured down the beers just like water; And of how in that bar overlooking the bay We were led forth like lambs to the slaughter Ah, the Aussies were waiting, and they’d primed themselves well They showered us with bitter, and they rained us with ale And in five hours straight, we were all drunk as hell Nearly blew my lunch back to America. We could almost sing ‘Waltzing Matilda’ As we staggered away down the lane Well we slept a few hours, and took a quick shower Then we started all over again. In the nightmare that followed, we tried hard to survive In that mad land of Down Under boozers And for three sodden weeks I kept myself alive My poor stomach and liver were the losers. Then we woke up one day in the Melbourne drunk tank A sad gang of hung-over and all but broke yanks And a big Aussie guard called us piss weak dumb wanks Never knew that I’d pray to get sober And we finally learned ‘Waltzing Matilda’ I could sing the damn thing in my sleep We finally made bail, and left the damn jail And I quietly started to weep. So we gathered our luggage, we poor drunken sots And we headed back home to America Some with shakes, some DTs, some with fresh VD shots Those poor shattered fools from Australia And as we de-planed, we were quiet and meek Our families met us, and you could see they were freaked We’d all aged 20 years in just a few Aussie weeks We were stared at with horror and pity We sang a mournful ‘Waltzing Matilda’ As we made our way out to our cars And we shivered with fear, and our eyes filled with tears As we hurried past each Airport bar Now I’m back in America, with a glass in my hand And I silently toast to the sea. That lies between me and that beer-sodden land From whose horror I’ll never be free. And I flip on the news, and raise my glass higher In hopes that Australia’s been swept clean by wildfire The doom of Australia is now all I desire We can start the place over with Kiwis. And I curse all those ‘Waltzing Matilda’ in that land far away ‘cross the sea, for their torment I pray, and that some day they’ll pay For what those marsupial scum did to me

Like gin? </font>

Does this mean you are going to send me your piccy? Persephone </font>

This won't negatively impact taking your fellow Minnesota Cesspoolers on drunken parades around the lake, will it?

Happy Birthday, Sir Yeknod! Do not despair over having only the scent of a cherry starburst to mull upon. Oh, and by the way, they have starbursts in England? When I was there in my youth, the ****e the English ate and described as 'candy' was some of the vilest stuff I've yet encountered on this earth. The English have a postitive fixation with ginger, and for some reason believe that a primary ingredient in Asian cooking should also be bunged into 'candy' in quantity to cause perforations of the stomach. The Gnome feels your pain, Yeknod. Or, rather, he feels his own, which currently includes only being allowed a 'clear fluids diet'. There is nothing about this that resembles eating, and jello is the most 'food-like' thing to enter my system these days. From my pain, I extend my sense of empathy to try and comprehend yours. Of course, my initial reaction is that I would probably eat the damn starburst wrapper just to have something solid enter the system. Oh, well. Felicitations, in any case.