Seanachai

You actually have meaningful employ? I would have thought by the amount of time you spend in here with your long winded, bombastic posts, that: 1. you are homeless, and spend your days in Cyber Cafes, drinking coffee and playing GTA in between posts. 2. Are out on a home release program with one of those transmitters that wont let you move more than a hundred meters from your designated spot. 3. Are just so socially inept, that the only place you feel superior is on an anonymous internet forum. Please choose one of the above. </font>

Hey, Boo, stop the Squire stroking and head back over to 'the Worst SciFi Movies' thread. I abused Ohio some more. If it stays slow here at work this afternoon, I may even do a lengthy treatment of you and your homeland here on the Thread.

Bauhaus! I've got my eye on you, Jimmy!

I was wondering when BilgeRat would show up. That was a very timely appearance.

See, gentlemen? This is all I ask. A little respect, a certain amount of fairness, a bit of fair play. (I just told a friend of mine what MrSpkr had to say, and she said "My God! Why do you go to that site?! Why do you let people say things like that about you, even in jest?!" I told her "well, actually, I got the better end of that exchange. See, he's a lawyer, and there's no way he can bill me for the time he spent insulting me. I know that must gall him.)

Going on the run with the Justicar is looking more and more appealing. Better than staying around here to be mocked and denigrated by bumpkins like Boo, and drunken louts like Lars (although he has a very nice boat...) Pity Shaw and I are now sworn enemies for his statements belittling my Honour. [ January 27, 2003, 05:50 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

You forgot poor social skills, the dining habits of a barbery ape and that powerful bodily funk he generates. </font>

Gads, how dreadful. Having a longer post to work with fills the area with the unmistakable stench of 'the South'. And here I thought some of your other lengthier posts simply indicated you were drunk. You probably were, of course, but now I can see that the awful word usage, awkward sentence structure, and general lack of coherence is the result of your Southern 'heritage' (for want of a better, single word that carries with it the image of tarpaper shacks, cataclysmic inbreeding, and a level political boorishness not seen since feudalism went out of style). I shall carefully consider your challenge. If I can cast it back into English, I will see if it merits further action on my part.

Is that an actual dessert, or another of those revoltingly sweet alcoholic concoctions you've been know to suck down in and effort to make yourself look 'sensitive and caring' to the opposite sex? [ January 27, 2003, 01:15 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Dammit, Sit down Bauhaus! It felt surprisingly good to say that again...

I would never have suspected you of liking sashimi...

You're right, of course, in that one should not be quick to judge. The whole story seems a bit odd to me, but then, one of the things you get told in a class on creative writing is: 'Don't put something into a story just because it actually happened in 'real life'. If it's off the wall enough, it doesn't matter if it 'actually happened' because people won't believe it in any case.' So, no intention of raining on Master Goodale's parade, but I think a realistic note of caution should be sounded. I hope that he is in a position to get these photos to someone who can accurately judge their veracity.

I knew it. Like Pondscum, you're a secret Limey, aren't you?

This completely begs the question of a camera that contains film for 'about 100 pictures'. Please. An interesting story, but the details make it weak, at best. On a forum dedicated to a game that makes much of historical realism, and amongst a crowd of people who will argue to the death about 'mantlet armour thickness', 'penetrative ability of the 88mm' and such, an unthinking acceptance of what, on the face of it, appears so odd, says more about people's eagerness to believe, than it does about the likelihood of such a story being true. No affront to Master Goodale, but there's something simply not right about this info.

And now, for the next mis-step in the Procession, go here: From the Light, Into Darkness

Alright, then. Time for the next installment of "Crowning the King of the Peng Challenge". Observe a certain dignity. Post well. Don't be an f'ing daft idjit. The Shirt and the Coat: Also the same day of the coronation where the prince shall be crowned in the royal hall. But first he shall be bathed and after the bath there shall be ordained a new shirt and a coat of silk opened to the breast and between the shoulders, also to the middle of the armes. Above the coat he hall be clothed with other noble vestments. And he shall wear hose without shoes? Lovely, bloody lovely. When Berli set me on the path of ‘Crowning the Madman’ I never knew it would involve me asking someone to bathe Meeks, dress the worthless sod in disco togs open to the waist, and that the useless bastard would come prancing before me barefoot. Malakovski! Front and center! It’s time to…er…’bathe’ the new King. I’d ask R Leete to do it, but you can’t imagine the horrors awaiting the poor bugger regarding the ‘annointing’. My advice is to use a garden hose and the longest handled scrub brush known to man. How the hell do the English put up with this ****e?! I mean, seriously! The Solemn Procession: Also there shall be a solemn procession ordained by the abbot and the convent [of monks] of Westminster in solemn [copis?] going from the Church of Westminster unto the King’s see. In the great hall in which the prince shall be sit abiding the procession. Archbishops and Prelates shall be in the procession. And then shall the prince descend and follow the procession to the church and he shall go upon new red clothe laid under his feet on the ground from the forsaid see to the pulpit in the forsaid church. There shall be song in the receiving of kings and of queens. Okay, this lot’s a bit more straightforward. Only the Archbishop, of course, is a lunatic Outlaw living in the Greenwood and playing at rebellion. And we don’t have any Prelates, but we do have a few putative ‘Primates’. So, Boo, you’re up. Stroll about the grounds with ‘His Majesty’ to be, and occasionally make an ‘ook’ noise. Okay, we need a song ‘in the receiving of kings and queens’. How ‘bout: Have you seen him on the corner and his lip would reach the pavement he's been hiding from his razor is he not an awful sight in love he was the purest now he's frightenin' our tourists if he'd gone and asked his father, oh I'm sure he'd set him right Refrain: Sayin', take her in your arms and tell her that you love her take her in your arms and hold that woman tight won't you take her in your arms and tell her that you love her if you're goin' to love a woman then be sure and do it right Now he met her, at a disco in a dive in San Francisco and it all might have been different had he seen her in daylight she was painted, she was scented but she drover yer man demented if he'd gone and asked his father, I'm sure he'd set him right Refrain here's a pub with fun and laughter the landlord buyin' betty there's a session in the corner and the crack is grand tonight but yer man who lost his woman he's still at home lamentin' if he'd gone and asked his father, oh I'm sure he'd set him right Refrain Now depressions not a million laughs but suicide's too dangerous don't go leapin' out of buildings in the middle of the night it's not the fall, but landin' that'll alter social standin' so go first and ask your father, and I'm sure he'll set you right Refrain Here's a health to all true lovers their sisters and their brothers and their uncles and their grannies for this thing is black and white if you're keen to start romancin' with its leaping and its dancing then go first and ask your father, and I'm sure he'll set you right The Crosse. Also the cross, the scepter and the king’s rod, which being things of royalty, shall be borne in the procession of the Abbot. The Prior and the eldest monks of Westminster they shall take these things to the great lords who will bear them before then prince from the palace to the church. Hokay! No problems, then! Who wants to go Walkabout with Meeks’ rod, then? Anyone? Mind you, it’s a thing of royalty! The Barons of the Cinque Ports: Also the Barons of the Cinque Ports shall bear the four spears painted with silver bells and overgilt with silver cloths, banners, of the same cloth worn upon the heads of the king and queen in the procession. And they too shall go from the king’s hall to the pulpit in Westminster. Right, then. I’m probably one of the last stupid bastards alive outside of the innumerable bastards still living in England who knows what the ‘Cinque Ports’ are. Or rather, were. For our purposes, We call upon the Officiates of the Peng Challenge Thread to proceed in a colour-coordinated way with spears down the avenue. Try not to jab each other in a way that will cause too much disruption of the Ceremony. I call now upon Bauhaus, the Official Saint of the Peng Challenge; JD Morse, Official Lawyer of the Peng Challenge; Simon Fox, Official Grog of the Peng Challenge; Slapdragon, Official Counter-Grog of the Peng Challenge; Goanna, Eldest Australian; Lawyer, who’s Official Title is Gone Quite Out of Mind: Form up ranks, and accompany our King on this, his Coronation Journey! The Abbot of Westminster: The Abbot of Westminster or one of his monks in his stead shall always be ready by the king’s side and by the queens’ to inform them and to tell them what is to come. Okay, Leete, fella! You’re the only sodding Abbot we currently have, so form up by ‘His Majesty’s" side, and walk along, telling the daft bastard what new horror he will encounter next. The Archbishops shall ask the Will of the People: When the prince has rested himself in his chair or other throne ordained in the aforesaid pulpit, the Archbishop of Canterbury at the four costs of the pulpit, with a high voice, shall inquire the will of the people touching on the king’s coronation. While this is done he king shall stand in his throne, facing the corners to which the Archbishop speaks. After the question, an anthem will be sung: Ffirmenteur manus tua. Shaw! Where the hell is Shaw?! I don’t care if he is a Rebel Lord gone into the Greenwood in defiance of ‘King Meeks’, he’s also the only Archbishop we have! Alright, then, you bastards, everyone sing the new anthem–er, "I’ve Been a Wild Rover". The Offering of the King: When the anthem has been sung and ended the king shall come down from the pulpit unto the high altar between the bishops who shall lead him. On this altar he shall offer a cloth of gold fulfilling the precept that says "look that ye appear neither void nor empty in the presence and sight of the lord God. " Roight, then! Apparently our Own King Meeks must now appear to be constipated. Let’s all wish him luck! The Laying of the King Before the Altar: When the king has offered he shall lay down flat on the pavement before the altar upon cushions and cloths of silk and gold, thus arrayed until the Archbishop or some other who shall crown him has said the orison over him. Deus fidelium. Then shall be made a sermon to the people. So here we are. Now we need the Archbishop, or whoever shall crown him to say the orison over him. So what’s next? Where’s the goddamn Archbishop?!

Snap out of it, Leeo, you leafy green idiot. You're not a cabbage. Hell, you're on the short list for looking like an actual Seniour Knight. Sod the cabbages, where have all the great posts gone? Papa Khann. While sitting in the 'small room' this morning, and going through the normal pep-talk and internal calisthenics to encourage certain vital organs to do their duty, I found myself wondering what had become of you. Wandered off in a dysfunctional stupor? Serving a stint as the 'Before' mannequin at the Betty Ford Clinic? Doing manicures and flashing a glistening smile beneath that Clarky mustache in the Hennepin County Workhouse? Eventually, after successful negotiations with my intestines, I stopped thinking about you. But now here you are again. Indeed, I remember quite clearly your email regarding our games. We might be among the last human beings on the Thread still playing out a round of CMBO. But I'm not letting that game go. You know I'm going to win it, I know I'm going to win it, and the major thing yet to be determined is exactly how buggered over you are. And I need to know that. I didn't send those turns to you because...well, because I was forced to move the CMBO folder, application, data, and games onto my external harddrive. Had to make enough room, don't you know, for a little 'punishment and humiliation' project I'm working on regarding the Cesspool. And there's this issue, you see, with the external harddrive. It's huge, of course, with a fast firewire connection. Access is almost instantaneous. However, it has issues with the modem drivers running the USB modem. So, if for some reason I'm online, or go online while the external is booted, the data on the external HD can become corrupted. Now a younger man, with more fire in his belly, but with less wisdom, would spend days troubleshooting the whole process. He'd upload new drivers for this, and software updates for that, and try various combinations of extensions, and jump through hoop after hoop until the problem was solved. But I've reached that comfortable age of both wisdom and laziness, along with a realistic appreciation of the possibility of ever getting all hardware and software to work they way it should, and have stopped at a Gallic shrug, and the statement 'the external harddrive, and the modem, they don't like to play together.' And I work around the limitations. I'm sure that you can understand the concept of 'working around the limitations'. In fact, I imagine that the very concept must be part of your personal reality. So, I'm willing to play the necessary hopscotch between all the elements of my system to finish our long lost CMBO game. Your turns are in the mail, Papa.

No doubt. Things like clean underwear and personal hygiene probably are, as well. If you lot decide to attempt to Secede again, we've all reconsidered and you have our blessing. Wished we'd thought the whole thing through more clearly the first time.

Lars, I believe that going to places like this is inherently wrong. I have a simple scale by which I determine whether I will actually visit a place: If they speak English, and have very small vermin, I can visit there. It they speak English, and have large insects, than other factors will come into play, but they remain in consideration. If they do not speak English, but the vermin are small, then they are very likely. The determining factor will be their beer or wine. If they do not speak English, and the vermin are very large, then I will not go there. An example: Germany is not an English speaking nation, but the vermin are very small. The beer is good. I would visit Germany. By this scale, as another example, I would not visit Brazil, because they have very large insects, and they do not speak English. Finally, I would not visit Texas because the inhabitants are non-English speaking large vermin, making them the most horrible place on earth. As you can see, by this simple but elegant method of determination, you are making a serious error. Reconsider.

'It' being the alcohol induced stupour you've clearly been reduced to? Lie down and clutch the floor with all your might until morning comes and you remember why you wish you'd bought a thicker, plusher, more comfortable bathroom rug.

I thought I was the only one to notice. I see that the last post indicator now indicates Re: for replies to a thread. </font>

Now re-edit to add the English language, you drunken lout!

It's back...oh great glory, the Forum is BACK! THE SPIRITS HAVE GONE AND DONE IT ALL IN ONE NIGHT!

Apologize to them? You ought to cut a limb off and send it to them, along with a pint jar of your tears of repentance. Vile bad versifying, with progressively more horrible meter.

Roight, and before anyone should assume that I've broadly and cruelly dismissed young Gaylord Focker, I hereby give him an official standing: A salute to Gaylord Focker, the Official Tamoguchi of the Peng Challenge Thread!