Seanachai

My apologies (yes, that ugly word again, but 'fish must when the devil demands'...no, I have no idea what it means either. Shut up) to all my opponents. I'm several days behind on turns (at least). I've been working until very late each night, even at home (which is less objectionable, because the music is better), on a sudden Crisis Project. Read: Someone finally noticed that I've been blowing off the last 4 weeks of database updates in order to stroke, cuddle, and reassure any number of bloody idjits that I work with day to day about their use of their computer (or, as most of them call it, the Magic Box of Infinite Pain.) Turns out tomorrow for all, and perhaps even the setups I've promised any number of opponents, and haven't delivered upon (most likely because you defeated me in an ugly and unpleasant fashion, unlike Lawyer, who died like a Law dog, and AussieJeff, who's not quite dead, but isn't fooling anyone). Persephone: Loved the Pillocks Anonymous. You are a fine person who is much too kind to most of us, most especially myself. I think this Gnome needs more humility. Anything to cut the depression, but I cannot re-register until the name of Peng is re-captured from the Rogue. Otherwise, Berli would be left alone with the Thread, and...well, that couldn't be good. Love you all (that's right, gag on it, you swine), and back again as soon as the Real World™ permits, and the desire to fade away...fades away.

This is not on, lad. The Justicar remains the Justicar. He was named such by the Olde Ones, and he cannot be unmade until he, himself, shall desire to surrender the title. And Justicar is not the title for Croda. For a Justicar upholds tradition and the established order, while Croda traduces them. A Justicar seeks balance, while Croda represents chaos. A Justicar strives for justice, while Croda applies whim. In short lad, while some title, as yet undetermined, might someday await our Croda, it is not that of Justicar. That remains Shaw's. And while we are all, all, loathsome men, yet to each is given a place in a pattern greater than they can see. The actions or lives of any of us might sicken a carrion eater. But when told, as a story, in times to come, might be matched, point by point, against the stars in the sky, and form a constellation of glory. And so it goes. Children, in generations yet untold, might someday lie upon a summer hillside, looking up, and pointing, exclaim: "There's the Croda! See, if you follow the star at the top, you can trace the pattern down to where he smirks as Iron Chef Sakai is ejected from the heavens." "Well, I can see the sweep of the Justicar's sword! There's Shaw, casting the unrighteous from the Temple of the Thread!" "That deep, empty darkness, that's the Berli!" "And (giggle), see the upraised finger of the constellation of the Peng!" "That's the upraised eyebrow, Hiram Jr." "Not according to my Dad!" "And see, just there? Those stars make up the 'Cap of the Gnome'. The constellation of the Failed Bard." "It's pretty out tonight, isn't it?" Answered by a chorus of "Yeaahhhh". "Oh look! A Shooting Squire!" "Aaaahhhhhh," from all. "Oh, no, sorry, it's a satellite." "Bugger. I wished on it. Is it wrong to wish on space hardware?" Thoughtful silence. "Not any worse than wishing on a Squire." [ March 05, 2002, 02:31 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

If you ever do that again, I'll kill you with my own hands. Which will take a while, because I'll have to find a much stronger man to wield them in order to guarantee the results. Where is Hanns these days?

Now, you are a creature I do not understand. Your profile places you in Finland (all kneel! Finland has been mentioned!), but your screenname is Spanish, and indicates 'strong' or 'lusty', which is not borne out by your rather limp and utterly pointless post, not to mention your utterly feeble posts here in the past. Since you never post anything of interest, use, or, lately, coherence, why post here at all?

A smile...a demure but bold look from beneath lowered lashes...the casual brush of fingertips across the back of a hand while we're both in the process flipping the bird at some useless Newbie... All these raise a flutter in the chest of the UberGnome. But however much I might...long, it is no right thing for an Olde One, and True Knight of the Cesspool to hunger after the affections of a Lady whose Bespoken Love is also a Knight of the Cesspool...here, Pawbroon hasn't been much in evidence, lately, has he? (tidying hair, tucking in shirt, assuming a casual pose while delivering a reverse kick to the snout of a Donkey mooning around over Shaw and seeking advice).

I would certainly consider re-registering as Pillock if The French would consider rejoining the Peng Challenge Thread. Of course, I would hope eventually to be released back into the Wild, welcomed with a buss on either cheek, and merely booted in the groin in a friendly and perfunctory way as I waved and smiled at the Fair Emma. Funny old thing, life, what?

While I was truly captivated to be taken to The French's Mod site, I'd...I don't know, hoped for something more when I clicked on 'tickle me'. Anyone else notice that on the Web, Civ III is advertising with the slogan: Rewrite History as Pawbroon?

Shortly some sort of Mod Slut will be by to laugh uproariously. Then they will direct you to a universe of beautiful graphics useable with CMBO. Then they will demand the right to Mod the human anatomy. Moderators will show up to tell them no. Angry words will be exchanged, and all the Mods you've been directed to will be pulled off all sites.

You're an adult, right? Why don't you ask him? Maybe he's teaching you the folly of anarchy.</font>

The Spanish division was relieved? What did they have against those poor bloody Belgians?

What do you mean, what did the Germans have to kill a KV1? They were busy acquiring Finns, you silly sod.

Where have you been? What in God's name is that you're wearing? Is that a tatoo?! Take that out of your mouth, and throw it away right now. Outside. You might try a period of introspection, oh former Squire. Do you realize how I had to fight to keep you from going the way of Iron Chef Sakai?

Yes, go on, Joe. Admit you like the Donkey. Make Persephone happy, and confess. And she's right, Joe, we'll accept your expression of fondness. When he's in plain view, and not sporting that bloody flower behind his ear, I rather like the little chap myself. Oh, and for info I've recently received, and sod the rest of you if you don't like it, I just want to say: Shaw, Shaw, Shaw, Oi! Oi! Oi! Carry on, you piddlers.

As no one protested my previous nomination, this one goes to Serf status. I may take it to Squire, as I've said before. I believe, actually, that this one is female. Guys never talk about being a 'kitten' (to men, the whole concept is repugnant, unless applied to women, at which point it becomes almost disturbingly engrossing). Also, this one uses the term 'snookums', which women use when they want to sound dismissively male. The only men who use the term 'snookums' are men who're afraid they don't sound manly enough, so they over do it, and end up sounding like women making fun of men trying to sound manly. I rather like Sock Monkey (not yet bolded), because there's such a good, clean use of language. Of course, the belittlement of Minnesota is uncalled for, and shows up serious self-esteem issues. Anyone who thinks Brainerd represents anything besides a souvenir snow-globe view of Minnesota is wrestling with reality and losing on points. Lars, are you playing this creature? Keep us informed of their progress.

Ah, The French!

Slapdragon, I understand your point of order on this. You have shown a tolerance for this child that I could not, and have even called me on my intolerance. In my case, I believe you were right. And I agree that Croda made no effort to avoid provoking him, and many to push him on to his eventual demise. But you can only apologize for the useless little sod so far. Yourself, and many others, made every effort to instruct him, apologize for him, and lead him back on to a path of responsible posting. For every poster who, like myself, couldn't stand the little ****e, there was someone else ready to try and lead him past the shoals (if the posts are reviewed, even I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt when he first showed up here, for example). He chose to ignore all efforts, to rise to every objection or counter-post as though he was in the Peng Challenge Thread and larking about, and, in general, consistently post like a sodding ass. He will not be missed, except as we miss any clueless idjit who can be mocked and made light of. Although your efforts to lead him in to the light do you credit, do not make the mistake of blaming others for his consistent and aggressive inability to post like a responsible adult. Every effort was made, by BTS and many others, to cut him slack. He used it to hang himself. I'm not a noble or upstanding personage, and I hope his many stupid remarks lead to impotence and sterility, but that's just me. [ February 28, 2002, 03:11 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Sod that for a lark, I only have the one Squire right now, Sledge59. If I should choose to take on this Sock Monkey character, it is no more than right. After all, Sledge59 has shown all the requisites for Knighthood: arrogance, mocking others, playing up, engaging in multiple games, and taunting (well, with those unfortunate attempts at dialect). He'll be a Knight, soon, after he brings me a few more ears, and I'll be a lonely old ÜberGnome again. Should I choose to take this 'Sock Monkey' personage on, Goanna, it ill behooves you to raise points of order. Also, you owe me a replay, you useless Aussie Wanker of Heroic Stature, and after that last abomination, I'd no more trust you for a setup than I'd trust the Pontiff to sell me a pack of certified prophylactics. Mind, I've nothing but respect for the setups you've designed for myself and other opponents. But I've lost my arse to your Aussie Manipulations of Evil too many times to blithely bend over to look for your lost fiver again. Pull the other one, Goanna, that one's got bells on. I'll take a setup from Moriarity, you toad, or Geier, Mensch or Andreas.

Oi! That's my line, you theiving 'Meerkin git!</font>

Get back in here and post like a Man, you useless lurker.

Christ on a crutch, but you're an annoying pillock. We've sent you to Coventry, and only Shaw's courteous enough to politely banish you. Sod off, you useless child, and spare yourself the further embarrassment of non-existence where the Peng Challenge Thread is concerned.</font>

Dunno. Rather like this one. I'm certainly up for giving this one 'Serf', and, if I get a Second on this, I'll take it on as Squire. Could fail in the breach, but reads well, shows a good use of language, and is definitely vicious. That useless bastard Pondscum's turned out rather well, hasn't it? Who's Squire is he, again?

I could have lived a thousand years, and paid good money to spare myself that knowledge, you hopeless Aussie yoick.

Really Peng (I thought you didn't exist anymore) don't be discomforted by a little 'edginess'. Things can't be all bonhomie and 'hale fellow well-met' all the time. I'm sure Croda and I can manage to keep things simmering along quite nicely without them boiling over. Well, I'm sure I can at least. This thread was excuruciatingly dull anyway.</font>

Christ on a crutch, but you're an annoying pillock. We've sent you to Coventry, and only Shaw's courteous enough to politely banish you. Sod off, you useless child, and spare yourself the further embarrassment of non-existence where the Peng Challenge Thread is concerned.

I have returned. The Bard of the Peng Challenge Thread, the ÜberGnome, has been away, enduring a crisis of confidence, an uncertainty of purpose, and pondering weighty matters (the multiplication tables, the nature of good and evil, is jello food, and whether, in a relativistic universe, annoying pillocks can be killed as a public service, amongst even more significant ponderings). Sledge59, well done, lad. You rose to the occasion, and endured the abuse of your betters, and held your ground. Everything was well done...except for your use of colloquial speech, lad. That was vile bad awful. Contact me, for the love of the Goddess, before you ever attempt to reproduce some attempt at dialogue again. Other than that, you were everything I expected of a Squire, and you paid the price (that is to say, everyone mocked you, abused me, questioned your actions, etc. etc. etc.). I have, as I said, returned. It is a bittersweet reassurance to me that, during my absence and crisis of participation, things moved forward pretty much as ever. Should I die tomorrow, it is clear that it will take several weeks for the Folk to notice, even supposing they do. Should I play the part of some Mod Queen, and huff off in high dudgeon because folk aren't burning enough incense in my name, I imagine that I'll be greeted with catcalls, jeering, and abuse (and quite rightly, too). But I'm back, and although my potential death was registered only by myself, may I just say that I'm...well, not 'glad', but...'reassured', perhaps, to see you all. I have an affection for your lot that transcends understanding. At least your understanding. Not that that's a difficult hurdle. Perhaps it's enough to know I wouldn't leave the other Olde Ones, the Justicar, and my Squires in your hands.