Seanachai

As my conspicuously absent liege was supposed to inform you, I have a new digital camera on order. Pics will be sent as soon as I have it in my sweaty hands. BTW, whatever did you do to poor old Seanachai ? He hasn't been posting in his usual copious quantities. Did you leave him gagged and hog tied? One can only hope... Edited for spelling. Or lack of same.</font>

Careful what you wish for, Hiram. A few weeks ago I told Berli that I hated Mondays, and demanded, as a fellow Olde One, that he do something about it. On Tuesday morning they laid me off. That evening the Evil One sent me an email saying: "there you go, better now?"

A man who would eat squash would eat animal feces with a decorative toothpick thrust into it. I'm back from physical, emotional, and moral collapse. Alright, truth be told, I'm merely over the first two, the latter is after being more of a way of life than a condition begging recovery. Turns for everyone, Setup for Grog Dorosh, and perhaps even some particulars on the latest Meeting of Olde Ones.

So there are rules about the rules? Who are you, Old Man Joe? My "sod off" was in the text, and implied, not boldly stated. I know that such literary subtleties are lost on a lip-moving, finger-chasing wretch like yourself, whose only delight regarding the printed word is when those funny little squiggles finally line up enough for you to puzzle out the latest Bazooka Joe punch line and laugh. Oh, how you must laugh! So send me another turn, laughing boy.</font>

Bah! This looks like some sort of unwholesome Squarehead rip-off of the very fine children's book: "Everyone Poops".

Well, truth to tell, until I'd met the useless Sod face to face, I wouln't have thought the Dalem would come up with a decent Thread. Just goes to show how you can be right and wrong, all in the same breath, eh? Now, the current Thread title amused me, yes it did, and no mistake. And the Rules; well, the Rules were pretty good. But, and I ask you, folk of the Peng Challenge Thread: Where was the Sod Off? Where was that moment, poised between welcome and rejection, when the supplicant knew that he had not come amongst friends, and would now have to consider all the years that had brought him to this point of posting?! Frankly, that engendered moment of shivering decision and plunging in, was lacking. We have had the Rules. They are ignored. We've surrounded ourselves with Mystery, Observance, and Obeisance. The significance of all three are constantly missed, mistaken, or, more generally, ignored. Sometimes, amusingly, some of the idiots fall over one or another and hurt themselves. How many times will we have to endure idiocy in the hopes of winning one worthwhile fool, one amusing Squire, one worthy Knight, out of all the gibberish that is posted to the Peng Challenge Thread? I tell you: as many times as the Thread is reborn, that many times shall we have to endure a multitude of fools. When I consider to myself the value of any of these 'accepted' halfwits, I count myself well recompensed, and look forward to the next meeting. Look to a new presentation of 'the Rules', the next time we meet. [ April 11, 2002, 01:42 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

You would be, you silly Argentinian bugger, except you've attracted the attention of the Olde Ones, through your unseemly revels. We do not forget.

Calumny! Hideous calumny of a Peng Challenge Thread approved Grog! Well, not that we really approve of anyone, including each other. But Berli, Joe Shaw, Persephone, and the Minnesota Knights were all sitting around this evening drinking Guinness, Bass, and local brews too numerous to mention, and we all agreed that, of the many Grogs on the Forum, we'd most likely kill Grog Dorosh last. Not that we like him. We just hate him less than most of the others. Oh, and we agreed we all miss Elijah Meeks. That horrible little man. Dorosh! Stop standing there like some sort of Canadian Oliver Twist, twisting your cap between your hands while staring at your feet and mumbling about how 'you're sure he's a gentleman, an' it please your lordships', and say something nasty. Come into the Thread of threads, if it makes you feel more comfortable, and go off on the idjit.

Ahem. We've just in the last little bit closed the final meeting of the Olde Ones, Justicar, and many Minneapolis Knights. I have this to say to my credit: Berli did not actually kill me, and he smiled a lot, even during the chancey bits. And, I leave you with this lovely sing-song, which I may have posted previously, not that most of you lot can remember what I began this current post saying, so it's all new to you, now isn't it? And so we've had, another night of poetry and poses and each man knows, he'll be alone when the sacred gin mill closes and so we'll drink, the final glass each to his joy, or sorrow and hope the numbing drunk will last until opening tomorrow and then we'll stagger back again like paralytic dancers each knows the questions he will ask and each man knows the answers and so we'll drink, the final drink that cuts the brain in sections where answers never signify and there aren't any questions I broke my heart, the other day it will mend again tomorrow if I'd been drunk, when I was born I'd be ignorant of sorrow and so we'll drink, the final toast that never can be spoken here's to the heart that's wise enough to know when it's better off broken... "Last Call" -Dave Van Ronk

My gods, Grog Dorosh, your almost unbelievably detailed post about the idjit you entered into a game with was like a Combat Mission Shaggy Dog story. I couldn't believe there wasn't a punch line, then realized you led with the punchline. "Is my opponent a whiner?" Your opponent is a useless big girl blouse. He is vile in the sight of men, and laughable in the sight of the gods. The only thing I can fault you with on the whole, interminable discussion of your obsessively 'Canadian Nice' relationship with this halfwit is the fact that you actually fell into such a dilemma of despond that you sought out the opinions of the Tower of Babel that is the Forum. My reassurance to you is: Your Opponent is not only a whiner, he's not even an entertaining whiner. In the Peng Challenge Thread, people like this would normally be hunted down and culled in the hopes of improving the species. My request of you is: I can't imagine this one even remotely comes from us, but if he did, please email me discreetly with his name, so that I can see that he's terminated with extreme prejudice. Although I can't imagine it's even possible. Finally, where's my turn you Canadian rotter?! I sent you the setup days ago, and I haven't seen ****e since! Respond, or do somefink! [ April 08, 2002, 05:01 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

'bout time you conformed to popular opinion</font>

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He loves me like a father. Hiram, I feel a hug coming on!

I'm sorry, Boo lad, but anything much over 5'8" or 5'10" is simply a waste of resources that might be more profitably spent supporting caribou, or tree frogs, or some such more highly evolved life-form than yourself. Not that I don't find you almost sickeningly cuddly looking. I suppose women eat that sort of thing up. (Sit down...hmm, anyone seen Bauhaus lately? Hardly seems worth the effort to police the double entendres anymore). "Vertically challenged" indeed. I tower over you sir, by the height of my intellect. Which would fill me with great pride, if the same weren't true, in your case, of OGSF's 'wee spaniel'.

Ohmigod, it's 'EveryOaf'. Useless sod must be about as tall as Bauhaus and even more freakish looking. Still, his open mouthed, wild haired look of wonderment betokens the good heart that many simpletons posssess. Pity Croda got a hold of him. Corrupt whatever child-like innocense is left, most likely.

See, I got everything except this part. I was actually, through copious amounts of toil and sweat and screwing my face into all sorts of contortions while my tongue hung limply over my lower lip, able to understand the gist of the diatribe. (I minored in haverin' in college, you see.) But this...he's either upset that some small dog relieved itself on top of his birthday cake or it's a coded message for help.</font>

Be quiet, you Aussie sod! You're not entitled to claim a victory over my missing Squire. When he returns to the fold, you'll have your chance to whinge, and gibber, and make small mewling noises over the lack of turns in which you were being humiliated and shorn like a sheep. [ April 02, 2002, 02:46 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Mace: btw, before you retire for the night tell me Seanachai, what's snow? Mace</font>

While the hardware/OS requirements are still a bit up in the air, it's rumoured that validation of and/or by the Peng Challenge Thread will be necessary to actually utilize the full potential of the game. Otherwise you just get access to the version that looks like 'Pong' with German and Russian tanks.

All hail The French! That one's going out to a half dozen or so bunny lovers.

He's describing his battle with me... wherein, had he real troops, he would be winning. Alas, he took the Pommies and is getting his ass kicked (He has even lost one of his Churchills... even though I made the mistake of not purchasing a single antitank weapon)</font>

Translation: I played the AI. I lost to the AI. I am a loser, but I will blame the computer generated force selection for my short comings. Mace</font>

Idjit. Try "McAuslan in the Rough", or "The General Danced at Dawn". Given yer sir name, it's no wonder you've no a clue.

What?</font>

Oh, that'll be this map, then? (Oh, and unlike your pretty piccy with your men lolling in luxurious undergrowth, note the barren wasteland horror that MY troops had to languish through! Indiginantly, AJ Whose Mods are you using? That battle looks like it should be taking place at Sidi Barani. Or possibly Moon Base I.