Seanachai

A little respect there, Croda! That's my Squire.

Yes, Gaylord, but the Cesspool has always been there. It currently manifests itself in the Combat Mission Forum.

Hmm, this is a difficult issue. Oh, not the dim and rather useless Poobear creature. I don't think we even need go to the trouble of declaring Coventry, although perhaps we'll have to if people don't stop responding to it. I believe it's best if we just ignore it. Even the Outer Boarders are ignoring it, and some of them would respond to any sort of idjit post. No, it's Gaylord that presents the problem. You see, while we can certainly declare Coventry for someone who's openly and deliberately disruptive, hateful (in it's more 'legalistic' sense, as all of you are hateful in your own ways), or only shows up here to try and violate BFC's board standards, thinking they can 'get around' restrictions because this is the Peng Challenge Thread, and they think the rules are 'non-existant', rather than more broadly and loosely defined. However, what do we do with someone like Gaylord, who is attempting to participate, often in an almost painfully earnest manner? He's trying, people, he truly is. Is it really 'just' to banish him to the horrible limbo of Coventry, where all the squeaking little ghosts bleat at each other in the gray and empty air? Can we really send this poor, half-witted lad to Conventry, simply because he's awful? That seems cruel, and heartless. I say that we either have to let him post, or kill him outright. What sayeth the 'Pool? Oh, and please ignore the Poobear character.

That's what I'm talkin bout!</font>

Hey, Grog Dorosh, I posted a jolly Canadian sing-song for you in the Peng Challenge Thread.

I can, of course, deny you nothing. And don't mind Papa Khann, it's just that the truss is too tight. And now, in honour of Grog Dorosh and to honour the request of the Fair Emma, a Canadian song! (will post the lyrics to a good Scots song when I have access to the hundreds at home). I hate the SkyDome and the CN Tower too; I hate Nathan Philips Square and the Ontario Zoo! The rent's too high, The air's unclean, The beaches are dirty, And the people are mean! And the women are big and the men are dumb And the children are loopy 'cause they live in a slum! The water is polluted and the mayor's a dork! They dress real bad and they think they're New York... In Toronto . . . ! Ontario . . . oh-oh! "You know . . . now that I think about it, I pretty much hate all of Ontario!" "Yeah! Me too!" I hate Thunder Bay and Ottawa, Kitchener, Windsor, and Oshawa! London sucks and the Great Lakes suck, And Sarnia sucks and Turkey Point sucks! I took a trip to Ontario to visit Brian Mulroney! He beat me up and he stole my pants And he put me in a tree! I went to see the Maple Leafs And got hit in the head with a puck. "Uh I don't even know how they did it . . . I mean, I was playin' the organ at the time!" (And Alan Thicke sucks!) Ontario . . . oh-oh-oh sucks. "Come to think of it, I pretty much hate every gosh darn province and territory in our country!" "Well except Alberta!" "Oh yeah, of course I love Alberta! Lot's of cows, rocks, trees and dirt . . . mmmmoo moo moo!" But . . . I hate Newfoundland 'cause they talk so weird And Prince Edward Island is . . . too small. Nova Scotia's dumb 'cause it's the name of a bank; New Brunswick doesn't have a good mall! Quebec is revolting and it makes me mad! Ontario sucks . . . Ontario sucks. "Manitoba's population density is 1.9 people per square kilometre! Isn't that stupid?!" Saskatchewan is boring and the people are old! And as for the territories . . . They're too cold! "And the only really good thing about the province of British Columbia is that it's right next to us!" 'Cause Alberta . . . a-a Doesn't suck! But Calgary does . . . ! The Toronto Song -Three Dead Trolls in a Baggie

Rob/1? Is that you, lad?

You've bred?! You have children?!! Another dream of giving evolution a leg up shattered. If this keeps up, we'll be able to empty the gene pool with a serving spoon.

I understand. You are intimidated by my ability to go on about something at almost pathological length. My run-on sentences and convoluted sentence structure fills you with the fear that we may not be speaking the same language, and that it is you that have chosen the wrong language for your posts. Your sense of insecurity in the face of the very oddness of many of my remarks has caused you to attribute female characteristics to me to shore up your own growing fear that you may no longer be a man. You have every right to be afraid; to be,in fact, very, very afraid. Currently, I know, you read my posts and sneer to yourself. You tell yourself "you know, I'm just going to skip over these from now on." Too late, lad. Soon, you will be unable to skip a single one of my posts. Within weeks, you will read many of them over and over. The longer they are, the more times you will re-read them. Finally, you will notice your own written communications begin to change. Increasingly, everything you write, from posts here to your own work writings, will come to resemble and follow the form of my posts. Or does it rather bring to mind a Madame of the Pool Room?</font>

Imperialist swine.

Thank you, Gaylord. That was magical. From another planet, but magical. Now, I keep seeing you post elsewhere that you're 25 years old. Is that in Dog Years? Ohmigod... Is this Iron Chef Sakai?

Honour. And the ability to spell. Perhaps if you entered a chemical treament program? Why are the Kiwis so awkwardly dim? I mean, the Aussies are almost pre-eminently subnormal, but they never give the same trouble the Kiwis do. And New Zealand is otherwise such a Paradise on Earth.

Alright, one can find more interesting and highly evolved life in a tide pool lately than one can in the Cesspool. First off, We Are Not Amused with the 'taunting' of Ladies of the 'Pool. I am not amused, and I am a man who is easily amused. Peng is not amused. How do I know? Peng would tell me if he were amused, and I would share that knowledge with you lot. Berli is not amused. Again, how do I know? Well, because not much amuses Berli, and this is definitely not one of the things that does. If there is a Kindly Spirit overwatching the Universe, you will never be confronted with what does amuse Berli. Let us all gather together and, like a group of chimps working through a difficult social interaction, beetle your brows and try to work through this concept: We do not 'taunt' Ladies of the 'Pool. We do not abuse them. We 'gently jest' with them. Oh, I know the thought that's struggling like a maggot to push through the rotting gray matter behind your puzzled and clueless eyes. But this is not a sexist holdover of a chauvinistic and patriarchal society, loosely wrapped in the flimsy robes of chivalry, applying a double standard and setting up a pedestal for women to mount who are strong enough to take that pedestal in hand and use it to beat in your receding foreheads, smashing through the heavily ridged uni-brow to wipe forever from your faces the surly look of half-intelligent mockery you assume to keep at bay the knowledge that 'no one wants to touch it, but most are courteous enough not to point and laugh'. No. This is a simple statement from the Olde Ones that takes into account three things: The first is that every single one of you 'disappointments' owe your very existence to a woman. And, while this might inspire anyone who actually has to deal with you with thoughts of reprisals and a day of accounting, your own attitude should be one of gratitude and respect from the knowledge that the women who gave birth to you cared enough to bring you to term, rather than taking their own lives for the betterment of Humanity as a whole. Honour them for their sacrifice. They would have preferred death. Secondly, it is a given fact that women are the very first 'rule-givers' that anyone encounters. This is why some men who respect nothing else in this world respect women, and some men spend all their lives trying to degrade, belittle, and control them. So you can take the path of sulking misogyny and admit to the world that you're using the guise of 'egalitarianism' to get even for issues you have with toilet training and the heart-breaking labour some woman or women went through to keep you from being a repulsive discredit to your own species, or you can learn the art of 'gently jesting'. Finally, there is the fact that we, the Olde Ones, have welcomed these Ladies into the 'Pool. We did not, without soul-searching horror, heart-rending pain, and a fair amount of vomiting, welcome any of you lot in here. You were allowed in because you were 'one of us' (in most cases. Some of you are just too sodding stupid to know that you shouldn't actually be here). The Ladies of the 'Pool were welcomed in here because they were not us. If all there was to the world was you lot, I'd be rooting for nuclear war and a chance for the cockroaches to show their stuff. So try doing up your trousers, brushing your hair back, and learn that the biggest lot of useless bastards on the planet can give a Lady a hard time without leaving her feeling less than treasured. Pillocks. [ August 14, 2002, 12:20 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

'Course you weren't. You were an überSatellite.

How droll. Know that had I been with Lars, we could have continued to fish. Doubtless the friend who was with him was from some enfeebled State like Virginia...

Up in the Border country, a 'real' boat will do you about as much good as a papal dispensation if the weather turns against you. Both represent an illusory 'peace of mind' against the looming reality of the After Life. [ August 13, 2002, 03:03 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Years ago I took a friend up duck hunting on Lake of the Woods. My family has a place up there, three families who've known each other most of my life with cabins on an island in Miles Bay, and we went out in mid-October for Bluebills. My Dad's business partner and life-long family friend met me and my buddy at the mainland dock to take us out to the island. It was about 38 degrees out, gray skies and harsh wind. We were in heavy, cold weather hunting gear and snowmobile boots. Half way to the cabin he decides to drop us with one of my brother-in-laws who's shooting from a shore blind about halfway out into nowhere. We spent an uncomfortable hour and a half sitting and freezing our bums off (the ducks had decided the weather was too nasty for anything except killing hunters, so they wisely weren't flying). Then my brother-in-law loaded us, all our gear, his buddy, two dogs, what seemed like several hundred decoys, etc. etc. into a 16' Chriscraft with a single 50 horse on the back. Through icy, driving wind, black skies and rapidly failing light we laboured along with the boat so low in the water I was afraid we weren't going to keep riding over waves, but start having them come over the bow. I could tell my brother-in-law was working his arse off to find us sheltered passages, adding miles to the trip, and having to keep us into the wind for fear that we wouldn't be able to cope with waves we didn't take head on. He couldn't go too slow, either, having to keep the boat cranked up as much as he could to try and beat the storm coming in and the fall of complete darkness. There was sweat on his face despite a 30 mph cold wind. Through this my buddy, who'd grown up in the Chicago suburbs with no real experience of 'the North', was completely unperturbed. I remember being impressed with his calm certainty. That evening, when we made it back and were having many drinks, my buddy suddenly said: "You know, when we started back for the cabin tonight I was scared for a little bit, but then I thought, hey, these guys come up here and do this all the time. If there was any real danger they wouldn't have headed out onto the lake." We absolutely fell off our chairs laughing. He just sat there, with dawning horror. My brother-in-law's buddy said: "Didn't you hear what Pete (my brother-in-law) was mumbling?" My buddy said "I thought he was singing to himself". More laughter. "He was reciting the Hail Mary over and over," said the other lad. "Do you mean we could have drowned?!" He asked, white-faced. Probably not, he was told. The water was so cold that hypothermia would have taken him off before he really had a chance to do much drowning. I don't know that he ever really trusted us after that. Happy Birthday, Lars.

I guess I didn't realize you and Berli had taken quite so many pictures of the stuff in my apartment. When did you snap all these? While I was in the kitchen helping Joe after he dumped my entire silverware drawer on the floor? [ August 13, 2002, 11:35 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Sorry, I thought Jesse Ventura might be in here... Carry on.

Yeah it's a head-butt :eek: But on second thoughts I might come off worse so I'll give him a good kick in the nuts instead.</font>

Is that a head-butt? Let him have one... [ August 12, 2002, 05:14 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Shocker, that one. Papa</font>

Well, Berli, Peng, Persephone, Joe Shaw, Lars, Dalem, Shandorf, and Hanns have all met me in person, and Hiram has spoken with me by phone. So you'll have to ask them to know for sure.

Oh, much more fun. I actually like puppies. It was more like playing tetherball using a cat.

Don't be ridiculous, that's Steve Reeves...