Seanachai

All to please note that they were a young woman's underpants. At least the one's on my head. The ones on Dalem's appeared to be torn and pee-stained male boxers.

You discredit the very term 'guttersnipe'. We're going to have to start calling you 'sewerfinch', or somefink.

Nice Sig, Andreas. Thanks for the Peter Rabbit story, it was a firking howl.

I could read Pawbroon for hours...there was a depth, there, that you simply don't get from the modern generation of posters. Sigh. Also, his syntax and word usage was superiour to most of the SSNs.

I didn't just 'lose'. I lost specatularly. It was a horrible, horrible nightmare of a loss. I now scream when I see a pair of cross-country skis. This is a surprisingly common occurrence. Rune seems to bring out the 'team player' in everyone... [ December 23, 2002, 12:04 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Well, possibly someone will be along shortly with a quick answer, but it does seem that the two prices are right there, and calculators are pretty common...

'Elsewhere' was undoubtedly hoping for a natural disaster to strike.

The Fair Emma is the most discerning of individuals, and knows the true 'measure of a man'. That is: the ability to post well, and at length, with both pith, wit, and humour. Also, the ability to jump up and down going YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA while stupid Aussies have a hangover. It's true, isn't it Mace, that the Australians are the only people on earth to have over 400 terms for the the act of vomiting? Dear Emma. Thank you for your perception, wit, and quick hand with a yardstick. Damn. Now Gaylord will assume we're all 'flirting' with him again. That boy should get some outlets.

You know I was born in Alabama. Mobile, Alabama.</font>

You may kneel and kiss my ring, lad. [ December 20, 2002, 11:33 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

LOL! Okay forum "dad." Go back to the cesspool. </font>

I watched a very interesting program one night some time ago about the resurgent successes of the Klan (best wishes to Grand Dragon Trent Lott in the New Year) in Pennsylvania. One of the interviewees said: "Between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia lies - Alabama".

LOL! Okay forum "dad." Go back to the cesspool. </font>

And Panzer Leader makes the mistake of so many young lackwits, which is talking about either when they have neither.

And what I heard is that the dogs had a little sit down meeting and said to each other 'sod this for a game of tin soldiers. Blow us up, will they? Let's all run under the bloody Soviet tanks.'

What a ridiculous story. Of course, if you claim it occured in Wisconsin it's quite possible.

Good God, Panzer Leader, desist! Every one of your efforts was awful in a way that was uniquely unbearable. Let me show you how it's done. With, of course, the usual apologies to Bob Dylan*: Seanachai's 115th Combat Mission Dream I was riding an assault boat When I thought I spied some land I yelled for Mr. Peng I have yuh understand Who came running to the deck Said, "Boys, forget the game Look on over yonder We’ll find good times And I’ll find fame Haul on the bowline" We sang a jolly melody Like all folk tend to do When they’re around old Seanachai "I think I'll call it the Cesspool" I said as we hit land I took a deep breath I fell down, I could not stand Mister Peng he started Writing out some screeds He said, "Let's set up a Schloss And start committing gross misdeeds" Just then Joe Shaw comes down the street Crazy as a loon He threw us all in jail For singing out of tune In jail I started singin’ They quickly set me free I went to get some help I walked by a strange donkey Who directed me down To the Outer Board slums Where people carried signs around Saying, "Ban the Peng bums" I jumped right into line Sayin', "I hope that I'm not late" When I realized I hadn't posted For five days straight I went into a thread Lookin' for Berli I said ‘has anyone seen the devil?’ tell him it’s Seanachai The Moderator he was quite bald and carried a huge padlock he told me you lot get back to your hole or we’ll have your accounts all blocked Just then the whole thread Exploded in flaming crap Abuse was flying everywhere And I left without my red hat Now, I didn't mean to be pushy But I went up to a Finn To get some bail for MrPeng And the Knights I left with him He asked me for some collateral And I offered him Panzer Leader He threw me in the alley When up comes this foreign bleeder Who invited me to the his thread I went, but it was full of grogs Who roughed me up And mocked my knowledge And ripped off all of my mods Well, I knocked upon a thread With the U.S. flag upon display I said, "Could you please help me out I got some friends down the way" And Echo says, "Get out of here I'll tear you limb from limb" I said, "You know they refused Redwolf, too" He said, "You're not Him Get out of here before I break your bones I ain't your pop" I decided to have him banned And I went looking for the Padlock I ran right outside And I hopped inside a halftrack I went out the other door This Scotsman shouted, "Crap" As I tripped over his wee spaniel And an SSN that stood drooling across from a Forum Advertising brotherhood I ran right through the front door Like a good Cesspooler does But it was just the General Forum And Slapdragon asked me who I was I repeated that my friends Were all in jail, with a sigh He looked around all paranoid And said, “the Aussies all want me to die" I shook his hand and said goodbye Ran out to the street When an Australian came down the road And knocked me off my feet A pay phone was ringing It just about blew my mind When I picked it up and said hello I heard sheep bleating on the line Well, by this time I was fed up At tryin' to do a thing About bringin' back any help For my friends and MrPeng I decided to flip a coin Like either heads or tails Would let me know if I should go To the Cesspool or back to jail So I hocked my Squires And I got a coin for the fools It came up tails Which rhymed with fail So I made it back to the Pool Well, I got back and took The Board Warning off the trash I was ripping it to shreds When this Moderator strolled past He asked me my name And I said, "Elijah Meeks" He believed me but He wanted to know Why I hung out with all the freaks I said that to do so, by BFC I was employed He let me go right away He was very paranoid Well, the last I heard of MrPeng He was looking rather pale And was married to a deputy Inspector of the jail But the funniest thing was When I was leavin' the place I saw three tanks immobilized With guns all pointed my way I asked the commander what his name was And how come he didn't drive a truck He said his name was Gaylord I just said, "Good luck." Berli, should I have Lagavulin on hand for your post-Homicide tipple? *Dylan is now telling me not to bother with apologies anymore, and that I'll be hearing from his attorneys.

Actually, I hear that a lot.

It's a poor workman that blames his tools, JD...

And it's no surprise to anyone that Seanachai's rendition runs longer than the original. Sweet, fancy Moses, that man do so like to go on. I'm off to do a bit of Christmas shopping. Hold down the fort.</font>

Ah! Your flirting has finally paid off, eh?

Have I ever told you all the many and various ways I can be annoying to you? I mean, besides laying a righteous defeat and whipping on your soft, downy Aussie bum, as I've already done?

Well, well. Some time ago, I asked the folk to post an 'Anthem' for the Peng Challenge Thread. There were, surprisingly, several rather good efforts. I started my own offering, but time, duty, drunkenness, illness, and the general hash that time makes out of intentions prevented me from completing it. I have finally done so (hats off to all of you lot who've foregone turns for another night to make this possible! You're a wonderful group of opponents, really you are...), and I present it to you now. The tune it's to be sung to should be readily apparent, but in case any of the truly magically half-witted of our membership are at a bit of a loss, let me just say 'Mr. Tambourine Man'. Hey! MrPeng, my old friend, make a taunt for me, I'm not sleepy and there's just one thread I'm going to. Hey! MrPeng, you bastard, make a taunt for me, Through the HE and the MGs I'll come followin' you. Though I know that reichs and empires shall vanish from my hand, ignore all my commands, Leave me blindly here to stand but still not sleeping. My weariness amazes me, I'm stranded in my seat, My troops are all dead meat And the ancient empty steppe's too dead for dreaming. Hey! MrPeng the Olde One, make a taunt for me, I'm not sleepy and there's just one thread I'm going to. Hey! MrPeng, curmudgeon, make a taunt for me, Past the Grogs and forum rules I'll come followin' you. Take me for a trip upon your lashing verbal whip, My good sense has been stripped, the Knights have lost their grip, The Squires make awful quips, and the Newbie's posts too soon will have us vomiting. I'm ready to post something real, not simply post and fade Into the dull parade, cast your taunting spell my way, I promise to go under it. Hey! MrPeng, my old friend, make a taunt for me, I'm not sleepy and there's just one thread I'm going to. Hey! MrPeng, you bastard, make a taunt for me, Through the SSNs and fools I'll come followin' you. Though you might hear laughin', tauntin' spinnin' madly across the Board, It's not aimed at true discord, it's just a laugh with dueling swords, And but for Madmatt there are no padlocks facin'. And if you hear vague traces of wit that's gone astray Of games all badly played, of turns too long delayed, Hear my words Peng, when I say, it's just a shadow of Yourself that we're all chasing. Hey! MrPeng the Olde One, make a taunt for me, I'm not sleepy and there's just one thread I'm going to. Hey! MrPeng, curmudgeon, make a taunt for me, Through the SSNs and fools I'll come followin' you. Then take me disappearin' among the empty, pointless boasts through the endless drunken toasts, far past the General Forum, Where the best thing's to ignore 'em, out to the MBT, Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow. Yes, to taunt before the Outer Boards with one finger waving free, By the grace of BFC, circled by the dim and staid, With all wit and hate displayed, where the true games are all played, Let me forget about defeat until tomorrow. Hey! MrPeng, my old friend, make a taunt for me, I'm not sleepy and there's just one thread I'm going to. Hey! MrPeng, you bastard, make a taunt for me, Through the HE and the MGs I'll come followin' you.

Too little, too late. Morse will be hanlding the divorce proceedings. Or the execution of the will, depending on how seriously she decides to take having a life again...

Happy Birthday, Delaney!