Seanachai

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Claymore: The weary traveler continues his trek upwards through the fetid halls of this madhouse. Occasionally he stops for a long pull on a flask now but half full of 15-year-old Laphroaig...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Roight, then! How droll. While I am gratified that 'Claymore' has made some actual, er... 'literary' efforts to belong to our little community, and while his personifications of me as, well, in his terms 'a dwarf', are rather more accurate than not, yet I despair over his choice of personifications. How like a fellow of his rather limited sense of 'security' in his own person to project his inner turmoil by making his 'enemies' cross-dressing, sexually indeterminate figures of fun, and portraying himself as swilling expensive whiskeys, while striding purposely forward; a powerful, masterful figure batting enemies aside with one meaty forepaw. Playing out, as it were, both his own distorted self image, while attempting to belittle others by casting them as the figures of the desires that haunt his own, twisted nightmares. How sad. Two steps around behind his posturing will reveal him to be an angry, frustrated little man, a self-admitted 'physicist' living in, of all the ghastly places, Pasadena, California. I would pity him, truly I would, if he wasn't a USELESS, PISS-SODDEN, PILE O' ****E; FANCYING HIMSELF TO BE A CLEVER LAD, MOCKING HIS BETTERS, AND DRUNK ON CHEAP RYE MUCK THAT HE'D LIKE TO PORTRAY AS FINEST SINGLE MALT SCOTCH, DAMN HIS LYING EYES, WHILE WALTZING AROUND IN THE CESSPOOL, A PLACE THAT HE'S NOT FIT TO GRACE AS AN F'ING THROW RUG, PORTRAYING HIMSELF AS SOME SORT OF RPG HERO FIGURE, WHILE MOCKING...SHUDDER...ACTUALLY MOCKING THE GODDESS BY POSTING USELESS ****E, AND LINKS TO CHEMICALLY CHALLENGED LUNATICS THAT I HAPPEN TO KNOW HE'S ACTUALLY SENT EMAIL TO, ASKING THEM FOR A 'TAROT' READING REGARDING HIS CHANCES IN THE WINECAPE 'TOURNAMENT OF STARS', AND ALSO ASKING IF THE SCOTS WITCH WAS AVAILABLE FOR HIS NEXT WEEKEND AWAY FROM THE WIFE FOR A BIT OF 'SLAP AND TICKLE'! CLAYMORE, YOU HORRIBLE LITTLE MAN! YOU LACKWITTED SACK OF PUS, YOU DOOR TO DOOR BIBLE SALESMAN, YOU PUBERTY REVISITING REFUGEE FROM PUBERTY! Ahem. I call into question even your most basic attributes by which we would define you as a man. You haven't been here long enough, laddy, nor entertainingly enough, nor powerfully enough to disrespect one of the Old Ones; especially on the heels of having thrashed one of the Old Ones. I've no bloody doubt that you'll take refuge in the 'Oh, woes me, I'm such a very important chap, playing ever so many important games in the Winecape Invitational Tournament'. Well, lad, formerly we figured it for the 'Invitational Tournament of the Stars', given that the sponsors were not only offering significant prizes involving whiskey and wine, but that they'd invited 3, count them 3, members of the Eternal Peng Challenge Thread; but with the inclusion of you, we figure it for day release therapy for those criminals who can only be allowed around very young people by the constant application of medication and therapy. And, lad, if you'd come against me (hell and damn, Bauhaus, I know not...I meant it the way I meant it, but he's probably making of it something even worse than you could come up with) as one gentleman to another, then I'd welcome you in. But you chose the the low road, as it were, and dismissed me as the least of the Old Ones. You went for the sure laugh and the Shriner's road to humour. Send me a setup, you pustule. You might slay the Berll, and you might mock the Seanachai, but you shall never hae Our Freedom! You greet, useless, dog-fornicating pillock.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by von shrad: What in the hell has happened to the pool in my absence? You let that bumbling fool Stuka create a thread? Now of course he will be strutting around, forever claiming that his thread was best, longest, more in depth and all that other self-loving crap we come to expect. AND I HAVE BEEN DEMOTED TO PISS BOY!!! It's not a bad job once you get used to the over-spray ya know. BTW.....2 of your great kniggits are falling before me now. Such a shame to put them to rest in this fashion. I hear there is going to be a new job opening for the fallen. Man your bucket Mark Whore and Sean-a-mook-woot The piss boy cometh von shrad<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Er, here, Shrad's only a piss-boy? That hardly seems right. I mean, given that he's playing luminaries like myself and Mark IV, we'll have to rectify that. As my former Squire, MrSpkr, is now a Knight in his own right (and gotten quite above himself, I might add. Never drops the thankful note to his sponsor; speaks of me in the most disparaging terms; encounter him on the boulevard with his Tournament friends and the rather trollopy looking women that have gathered around him since his elevation to Knight, and he barely deigns to nod), and I have but the one Squire just now, I would be more than happy to take on Von Shrad as a Squire, don't you know. It seems more fitting than letting him labour on under the, er, designation of 'piss-boy' which is hardly appropriate for him. Of course, there are certain issues that need resolution regarding myself. Shaw, Lawyer, and several others have even gotten Peng sober enough to feel the need to spew and gibber regarding my status on the Thread. But I know I shall be vindicated. Now, on to other matters. More, as they say, anon. [ 07-15-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Claymore: ...Scraps of yellow paper, half empty bags of pork rinds and bottle caps emblazoned "Coors" lie strew about. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Did that...that...sodomite actually imply that anyone in the Cesspool would drink Coors? I can accept his trashing Berli, though I like it not, but this sort of calumny cannot pass unnoticed. I say we all go over to the Winecape 'Tourney of Stars' thread and kick his arse.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Lindan: Once in a while I tend to post. The worms. The smell. The Croda. Not to mention all the other imbeciles assembled hear. Pause. But then.. the cure. A bottle of "4711", the worst perfum ever made in Deutschland. Except Warphead's sweat perhaps. *emptying the bottle into the pool* Aaaaaargh! Delicious! The sweetness. Peng and such recoil in fear. This scent will get you all.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Don't be daft, you day-tripper. Peng drinks perfume. For the alcohol content, mainly. At least, that's our best guess as to why he does it.

I Am Returned. Now, mind you, the Return of an individual from Paradise involves more than a bit of disorientation and re-adjustment. And so it is with myself. Three days ago, I was sitting on a beautiful Canadian prairie, feeling a smile play across my face as I listened to music that God goes to bed congratulating himself over having created. I have spent the last two nights either sending out turns, or getting caught up on the Thread of threads. Tomorrow, look you, I shall rejoin the Peng Challenge Thread, posting once again as the first amongst equals. Until then, I'm off to bed, listening to Scottish music and dreaming of Emma. For she is a consummation devoutly to be wished for. I rather liked Goanna's thread title, but Stuka's isn't bad. Mace's, sadly, was complete ****e. If we're going to quote Roosevelt, I think the next incarnation of thre Thread should acknowledge Churchill. Something like: Never Have So Many, Owed So Much to the Peng Challenge Thread. Or, my personal favourite: 'Sir, the Traditions of Her Majesty's Navy are Rum, Sodomy, and the Peng Challenge!' Now, I'm off to bed. When I left Minneapolis, certain low fellows were posturing about censuring me. Tomorrow, I shall further address this sort of idiocy.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by chrisl: Cheesehead. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> That's applied to Wisconsinites, you cloth-headed berk. But your almost complete inability to find the zipper every time you go to the loo, which has never yet stopped you from proceeding, leads me to my next post. Chrisl, while a solid opponent with some tactical ability, is nevertheless an example of a red-flag in a specie's failure to continue the evolutionary struggle. Having lived and studied in Minnesota for a number of years, he departed the State to move to California; and, more damning, Southern California. What could more clearly delineate an individual failure than this, indicating a Darwinist process in action to ensure that Chrisl's limp and unproductive genes will not be inflicted upon a generation that might be able to generate a decent scenario without crossing genres and trying to hammer Combat Mission into some sort of pseudo-SciFi wonderland? But the upshot of all this quite valid analysis of Chrisl's astonishing insignificance in terms of humanity's continuation is that he is responsible for the scenario with which Peng and I renew our Challenge. Personally, I feel that it should have been Berli, as who doesn't seek out the Evil One when a contest of wills is indicated. But Peng, doubtless in a moment of almost preternatural drunkeness, gave the evolutionary failure Chrisl the nod, and so it is his scenario we grapple with. Mind, if it sucks out loud, we'll abandon it without remorse, and get Berli to do the next one. [ 07-04-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by dalem: All that and all you could come up with was a long-winded "I meant to do that!"??? To think I was going to hoist 'em and send a creative challenge your way. Hmph.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I assume that when you come to Minnesota, you will be on probation and paying dues by living in someplace like Mankato. Preferably in a trailer park, with no lake in sight. Next door to the county sheriff. Who is a born again Christian and suspicious of long-haired foreigners with earless dogs. Your dismissal leaves me feeling that a mind is a terrible waste when it's improperly placed in a Dalem. I would mock you further, but my most belittling effort would not label you more clearly a silly little bleeder than the post I am responding to. I will, at some future point, Dalem, lower myself to play a PBEM against you. I hope by such actions to atone for my superiority by making myself painfully aware of the existence of people like yourself. Your idiocy is important to me. Please stay on the Thread, and your inane posturing will be processed in the order in which it was received.

Well, well, well. Finally some activity on the Mother Beautiful Thread that doesn't involve filling coffee cups with drool and then attempting to finger paint with it. And what, then, is the sudden storm of posts about? Attacks upon myself. Well, laddies, may I just say: CENSURE, AND BE DAMNED! So I invited in strangers did I? Grogs i'faith? Tournament Players, is it? Well do you bloody know why?! Because you lot were going stale, that's why! You needed a dose of the short, sharp shock you did! One more post about how Stalin's Organ was a cretin (how many ways can one state the obvious, and yet still find new and intriguing ways to make it dull?), or that Mouse was a pillock, or that any number of all too obviously lesser beings were not entertaining enough, and I would have gone Grog myself, strike me dead if I wouldn't. As for claims that I'd thrown open the Eternal Peng Challenge Thread to hordes of posturing idjits showing up to dance around with their underwear pulled over their heads and trying to sing with the elastic band in their mouth (yes, I see that boy_recon is back, and I'm almost sure that he's attempting to sing a Spice Girls song, but the elastic's caught between his teeth), it is, in a word, a bloody gawddamn lie. The only gang of useless wankers I invited in are the current pariticpants to Winecape's Invitational 'Tourney of Stars' (a significant number of whom are Cesspoolers anyway, for Christ's sake). It seemed to me that: The chances of any significant number of them actually showing up in the Cesspool was slim, at best. *) The chances were much better that any of the bastards that actually did would probably be souls ripe for salvation. ß) The hope that all the chittering little ground squirrels of the Peng Challenge Thread, grown quite complacent with the easy living of having achieved Knighthood, or secure in their Seniour Knighthood, needed a bit of a stir up. It seems I was right. The adorable, cheeky little gang of cartoon rodents you were all turning into has started to investigate where they left their claws, fangs, and wolverine masks. Ÿ) It is quite within my right, as one of the Old Ones, to wander out, dead drunk and with a Canadian flag inserted and displayed in an extraordinarily non-traditional way, and invite in Idi Amin, Imelda Marcos, and Pugsley, the fluke-paralyzed Killer Whale from the soon to be built Branson, Missourri Sea World, if I so choose. Now, I realize that the wonderful little world of sinecures built up here and maintained with almost no mental effort at all has been thrown into disorder by my decision that it would be more interesting to invite Grogs and Ladder Players in here and watch them fail horribly at taunting and badinage, than endure another 'hey look, this one's mine, isn't it cute?' post, or 'good christ, the SSNs all suck out loud with a peculiar noise that puts my teeth on edge' post. But that's not what I came to talk to you about tonight. No, the reason I am here tonight is to tell you that, in not only the spirit of the Peng Challenge Thread, but in fact it's very root purpose, the Peng Challenge is renewed. For too many months now, Peng has swung between disease, madness, alcoholic distemper, and making small whuffling noises regarding his 'muse', 'writer's block' and whether he's involved in game 4,051 or 4,038 of the Eternal Elvis TCP/IP Endeavour. It is time to take Peng in hand...alright, yes, Bauhaus, even I feel a little queasy about how that sounded, and I don't blame you at all for crawling under your chair and shaking your head in a firm Nolo Prosequi. That is to say: Peng, I renew our Challenge. The Old Ones we may be, and inured to interacting with each other now, but that has never lessened my desire to kick your feet out from under you, put the boot in, and chortle while you curl into a pain-filled ball. HERE BE IT SET FORTH! THE ETERNAL PENG CHALLENGE THREAD RISES UP, SHAKES OFF THE LETHARGY OF SELF-SATISFACTION, AND RETURNS TO ITS ROOTS, LIKE A DOG RETURNING TO THE LAST PLACE IT SPEWED! Peng, I once again take our Challenge public.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by chrisl: I would come to Minnesota and punish you in person, but the mosquitos are pretty vicious this time of year, and it's otherwise unpleasantly cold.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I know that I have opened the Eternal Thread to interlopers. But, they opened their tournament to us. And I opened the Thread to them as a place to taunt, boast, abuse, and posture. The gods do not desire the destruction of the infidel, but rather their salvation. New souls might be gained to battle 'tedious' on the side of 'inspired'. If even one Grog, Game Pontificator or Ladder Warriour chooses to forego posting yet another bit of 'erudite, opinionated, but boring as ****e' info, or 'his win record, broken out by unit point ratios', and instead suddenly finds themself with shortened breath, anxious and excited after posting some taunting witticism, then I, for one, may count my life well spent. Is there anyone on the planet who truly thinks that another painfully precise, technically perfect post on 'penetration values', 'armour thickness', or 'shatter effect', designed to make all things clear to the elite, while excluding anyone except 'those in the know' from any sort of participation, is superiour to a good turn of phrase, a well written taunt, or literary reference aimed at one's opponent? Is there anyone who truly believes that what counts most is not playing the game, but winning the game? That the ability to keep score supersedes the joy of playing? Are we to become less than the Ladder junkies, who endlessly point out their 'standing', without ever asking what they've achieved in the eyes of their opponents? I hate each and every one of you, in a thorough-going and completely, utterly, and above all, 'personal' way. I have arrived at this by taunting, abusing, and, above all, 'playing' each one of you. When I have not yet had the opportunity to play you, I've at least made the effort to read your words, and tell you you're a useless pillock. When I read things like 'GhostStringOfNumerals' posting endlessly about how he's rated X on the XXX Ladder, and how he doesn't think there's any 'serious' game play going on over at the Peng Challenge Thread, I have to ask myself: Isn't this another individual holding up a ruler and boasting about how many millimeters of penetration he should be capable of? Is that what playing the game is reduced to? How big you want people to think it is, given your win/loss record and what the Abprufung test charts seem to indicate about your knowledge? How much more innocent, then, seems the boasting, taunting, and abuse of the Peng Challenge Thread, which doesn't require a significant 'win/loss' record to participate. How naively immature the literary, musical, and historical references appear, especially when their only purpose is to amuse or inform, rather than establish a dominance of knowledge or information with which to dismiss the concepts or opinions of others. How simple and straight-forward the Peng Challenge Thread, where people give each other ****e with a song and a smile, and achieve victories and defeats, make extravagant claims, and horrible rationalizations, and all without being reduced to viewing their opponents as another body-bag on the road to some supposed ladder status which will set to rest their insecurities regarding...their 'penetration' charts, or their insecurities regarding the documentation of their 'Charts comma Penetration comma Testing Ground Z '44 semi-colon using case-hardened arrogance on low-tensile newcomer interest' The Ladder Junkies will tell you: My Tactical sense is superb! You should shut-up! You are nothing! My win/loss record proves you're worthless and unworthy! The Grog Threads will tell you: My technical and historical knowledge is extensive. Please be quiet. Your lack of specific knowledge means you are nothing. My ability to quote highly specialized knowledge proves you are worthless and unworthy. The Peng Challenge Thread will tell you: Our knowledge is imperfect, impromptu, and our abilities whatever we can make you believe! Sod Off! Your lack of any goddamn ability to engage our minds or interest is reason enough to neuter you and keep you from passing on your horrible, disfiguring lack of worthiness to another generation. Your arrogant ramblings about your ladder standing or your myopic and disturbing fixations on ammunition abilities of almost 60 years ago fill us with the hope that you haven't yet bred and passed your lack of humanity on to another generation. Because then we can neuter you, and make sure that your worthless and unworthy genes aren't inflicted on a whole new generation of posters! Basically, we all share the same message, but we're having more fun with ours. For one thing, our manhood's not in question, and for another, we never, ever have to use the term 'Brinell hardness' and act like it matters a good goddamn in the ultimate scheme of human endeavour.

An Open Invitation, Originally posted on Winecape's Invitational "Tournament of Stars". Because, seeing as how we have this whole Thread of Threads available for the acknowledgement of opponents, battles, and abuse, and such, it would seem a shame to waste the opportunity. So if any of Winecape's Invitational participants wished to show up, talk about their games (that is, boast, posture, and carry-on like they were buying the next round), then we could guarantee them a stage worthy of their desire. And an open invite. For any of the 'Invitation of Stars' Tourney, they've got a place to post, posture, and carry on like drunken sailors. No one will require the standard 'Peng Challenge Thread' rules and 'trial by ordeal'. Any participant here who cares to show up and carry on like a Knight of the Cesspool, is welcome to do so. A contribution of status, as it were. In a very low club. No wine, Scotch, money, or other acknowldegment than this: All participants, through the duration of the tournament, are acknowledged as Members of the Peng Challenge Thread. If the winner is not currently a member of the Thread, then upon his victory, he has the right to status as a Seniour Knight. Now here, at last, is an achievement as vile as defeat. [ 07-03-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

My gods and goddesses, this is shaping up to be a very interesting tourney. While I know that no one wants to surrender specific, game-sensitive info, We of the Peng Challenge Thread are all about vituperation, the acknowldegement of Honourable-But-Vile Game Opponents, and game updates. Now, we have Three Participants in the Tourney. (How in Berli's Name Mr Spkr ever cadged an invite is beyond even the Old Ones of the Peng Challenge Thread, and not much is beyond us, unless Peng is dead drunk (a commmon occurence, so I guess no surprises there), and Berli is distracted (again, he's always involved in something like 30+ PBEMs), and I'm involved in a bit of a singsong, or trying to round-up out of bounds Peng Challenge Threaders, so I suppose that there are times when things escape us, after all...) So, and, in the traditional 'We are the Peng Challenge Thread, and We Have Our Own Ways' sort of thing, what are the ground rules (for the groundlings, as it were) of participation here? I'm sure that the other lads would like to chime in with lusty huzzahs of Our Champions (the worthless bastards), and quaint but polite dismissals (this can be enforced, I'm almost sure), of Everyone Else (which we rather specialize in, don't you know)? I ask, specifically, because many of us, whatever their standing with us, will eventually show up here. I would like to aid the very fine rabble-rousers...er, instigators...that is, ah, yes, 'Sponsors' of this fine event in their 'policing' effort. Will we see reportage here of battles lost and won, curses flung and fielded, witty repartee exchanged with plume-laden cap swept before a bended-knee? Abuse of the most high, disgustinging, and vicious nature exchanged? Or are we going to see: 'Damn, xxx has won, don't know how I missed that spare SS Motorized Battalion, Doh!' sort of thing? Because, seeing as how we have this whole Thread of Threads available for the acknowledgement of opponents, battles, and abuse, and such, it would seem a shame to waste the opportunity. So if any of Winecape's Invitational participants wished to show up, talk about their games (that is, boast, posture, and carry-on like they were buying the next round), then we could guarantee them a stage worthy of their desire. And an open invite. For any of the 'Invitation of Stars' Tourney, they've got a place to post, posture, and carry on like drunken sailors. No one will require the standard 'Peng Challenge Thread' rules and 'trial by ordeal'. Any participant here who cares to show up and carry on like a Knight of the Cesspool, is welcome to do so. A contribution of status, as it were. In a very low club. No wine, Scotch, money, or other acknowldegment than this: All participants, through the duration of the tournament, are acknowledged as Members of the Peng Challenge Thread. If the winner is not currently a member of the Thread, then upon his victory, he has the right to status as a Seniour Knight. Now here, at last, is an achievement as vile as defeat.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Joe Shaw: We have our standards, fellow 'poolers, and I must remind all that one gains admittance to the CessPool ONLY through the strength of their own virtues (or faults in the case of Berli). Let's not be INVITING participation lads, it looks bad on the outerboards.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Didn't we go through that whole period where Meeks was recruiting? Not that the results were always bad, but it did lower the bar, and there was a lot of complaining about the lads having to drink on their knees. By the by, where in the sodding netherworld is Meeks? One could almost miss the useless young bastard. <BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Joe Shaw: Finally, I note with dismay that Lard has not received even a smidgen of the scorn given (with great justification) to the other SSNs such as Stall in Oregon and Missed Her Johnson. Now granted, when placed against those two stellar specimens, Lard is easy to miss, but damnit chaps, WE HAVE STANDARDS TO MAINTAIN.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Well, Shaw, my most Esteemed Excressence (capitalization for truly disfigured Seniour Knights), as the saying goes: When You're Right, er...it makes me re-check my thinking, as well as performing a whole barrage of tests, like 'sobriety level', 'am I hallucinating on anything?', 'if I'm reading more of Shaw's seemingly endless posts, why aren't I hallucinating on anything?', and 'is that the overhead light, or is the mothership descending', and, finally, 'is that Shaw posting again, note to self: remember to call the attorney and check on the status of our personal injury suit as regards posting of Mormon Wives, and whether that bastarding attorney will confess to having purchased Hetzers yet again in a goddamn game...oh my gods, I have hands! Why aren't I in charge of the Universe? Look at these fabulous devices for manipulating objects and...Shaw, that's bloody right, stay focused on Shaw, and something the useless bastard said...Ah! Abusing that Newcomer from Mound'. So, Shaw, you toad. You're right. A recent arrival has hardly been acknowledged. Lars: Landsmann! I see you are from...Mound. How appropriate. Another wanker from one of the Twin Cities' most appropriately named suburbs. You have posted several times now, in that 'well I guess I'm as good as the next streak of piss, but don't wish to make any issue out of it' way that all self-effacing but stubbornly-determined-to kill-all-enemies-out-of-hand Minnesota Scandos have. Decided to turn off Garrison Keillor for an afternoon or two and post a few quasi-rude remarks on the Peng Challenge Thread, have you? From your chosen appelative I assume you're another of those stolid, low-affect, 'eyes on the ground, head-shaking' Squareheads with which our otherwise fair State is completely overrun; maintaining with clenched jaw that 'you know a thing or two about a thing or two', and that you're not sure if you should be posting here because, 'hey, I don't know what the Minister would say. These Peng Challengers, I don't think they are church folk, you know? I don't know as how I should be posting with them. I think they're a little too fancy in their thinking and rough speaking for honest folk.' Let me just make you most welcome. I always have a wink and a nod for another Minnesotan, especially for you hardinger fiddle, nickleharpe listening Scandinavian sociopaths who are still working through whether Luther or Calvin was hard enough on the sinners, and brooding about what was said to your Grandfather when he first married, and whether it was finally time to avenge the insult, if it was an insult, although the family's been rehashing it for 40 years and are pretty damn sure it wasn't meant as a compliment, you know. Now that, you lack-witted swine, is at least the beginnings of the way to insult a Minnesotan. Note to Lars: Most of these idjits are still wound up with some kind of mental aberration that makes them swing between 'Little House on the Prairie' and the Cohen Brothers movie 'Fargo' when dealing with us. Don't expect too much when it comes to 'regional' abuse. [ 07-03-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by MrSpkr: Hey dalem, if you got time to stand around and display your lack of knowledge on matters of military history, YOU HAVE TIME TO RETURN THE SETUP I SENT YOU LAST WEEK! Worthless, lazy good for nothing Minnesotans. Geez.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Dear Former Squire, Who Until This Moment Made Me...Well, Not Proud, Exactly, But Less Ashamed. DALEM, THAT HORRIBLE LITTLE MAN, IS FROM MICHIGAN! HE IS NOT FROM MINNESOTA, NOR WOULD HE MEET THE MINIMUM REQUIREMENTS OF INTELLIGENCE, WIT, KNOWLEDGE, AND HUMOUR TO BELONG TO OUR STATE! Now, should the gods, sometime in the future, decide to grace you with the most minimal ability to distinguish between piss and water, I'm sure you'll do well. Until then, drink deep, laddy. That's right, toss back every drop. Pillock.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Mr. Johnson-<THC>-: I can assure you Lars that I am not a fan of wrestling, unless it involes women covered in Redhook ESB.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> takes a quick moment to confirm the label You useless swine. Now you've ruined that for me, as well. You need dealing with, lad, and you shall have it. And you shall rue the accounting. [ 07-02-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by dalem: And then someone in my gaming group says "tonight we're doing the decisive battle in the War of Spanish Succession" and I burst into tears because I'd never even heard of the War of Spanish Succession and they're all pointing and laughing and I haven't even scratched the surface of the Far East and what about all the rest that I'm leaving out and -- [ 07-02-2001: Message edited by: dalem ]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> lip curled with disgust Dalem doesn't know about the bloody War of the Spanish Succession? I say no one plays any reindeer games with the quivering little lump of ignorance until he shows up here and posts a longish post about Queen Anne's War and it's significance in the European theatre of the time. Pillock.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Agua Perdido: Ah, another fine morning o' Cess. Let's get right into the UPDATES! Anyhow, Seanachai's cheating, code-hacked, utterly-rigged map (on which all his defenders are ambushing from reverse-slope positions (sometimes from several directions at once)) is finally proving to be his undoing. My Hetzer from Hell found a nice hull-down spot on the edge of the map (which I've been hugging in a very sporting, totally fair, utterly historical fashion), and has KO'd two 6lbers and two Cromwells over the last few turns. It is ready to wreak further vengeance with its last two rounds of HE. My battered infantry force is closing in from all directions (after marching for nearly 20 turns to get in his rear--Bauhaus, please; even you can't be interested in such an obvious one), and it's become a race to see if I can blast my way to the VLs before the clock runs out. ]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Is that a bloody Hetzer? No wonder I haven't been able to kill the sodding thing; I hit it enough times. I would have pulled that first Crommie back if I'd realized it was a Hetzer. Put one of those things where it can't be hit from the rear or sides (for example, two chasis lengths from the edge of the map; not that any of my opponents, of course, would concentrate their entire assault along the farthest edge of the map), and everything just skips endlessly off it. Until I started playing PBEMs I'd never realized that Hetzers were the primary AFV of the German army. Thank you, indeed, Agua (may I call you Agua? It just seems so right now that I hate you in a very personal and embracing sort of way), for the valuable intelligence that it's a fornicating Hetzer with only 2 rounds of HE left. That's prime info, or, at least, it would be if I could do one freaking thing about it, which I can't. Still, this sort of timely info now frees my defensive resources up to begin dying under your SS Rifle company human wave attacks, without the need to cast their eyes up to the ridge (inches from the map edge) from which came the death of the support units that were maintaining them in their stout-hearted defense against your repeatedly shattered attempts to overrun them. You're a fine opponent, truly you are, and doubtless your assault will someday be studied by future generations of Peng Challenge Thread members. Especially the first fifteen turns during which you sacrificed an entire rifle platoon, dedicated a tank and light tank(HT?), and most of the fire of 6 HMG 42s, as well as much of your available artillery, in order to destroy one Vickers MG which is still firing at you. The surviving members of the crew have sworn Blood Hamster on you, and I will dedicate all my resources to seeing that their last wishes are carried out. In the immortal words of Corporal John Thomas 'Wally' Knobwandering: "I want the bastard humiliated, I do. I owe it to Teddy, and Ginger, and Llewelyn, Tom and Winkles of Vickers crew T12. And when you do for him, Lord Seanachai (I keep telling the men, there's no Nobility in foxholes, just blokes all together, but they won't listen), I want you to take this picture of the six of us wearin' humourous novelty eyeglasses and noses, and shove it right up his bum until he can see it in front of him." You may win this battle, my dear Agua Perdido, but whatever the outcome, a reckoning will be required of you. And when the time comes for you to pay your bill to the men of Vickers crew T12, I hope you'll have had only a light breakfast of healthful foodstuffs that won't cause you excessive discomfort as they're run backwards out through your system. Oh, and Corporal Knobwandering will be the one on the left end; Winkles is the one in the middle making the humourous gesture (there's always one).

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Mace: Ich bin ein Cesspooler! Mace<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> You're a donut filled with what?! You filthy swine.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by David Aitken: I don't taunt. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> S' True, Aitkin doesn't taunt. He raves a bit, and goes on rants fairly often, but abstains from taunting. Other than that, he seems alright. Oh, except his musical taste is odd, but he's not overly aggressive about it.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by MrPeng: Gentleworms: chrisl has agreed to provide the venue. MrSenileTea has agreed to be the victim. The MBT will have life again. The rivers will run green with bile. Peng Edited due to prolonged exposure to non-alcoholic beverages. [ 06-30-2001: Message edited by: MrPeng ]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I've been sitting here a while wondering why Chrisl had sent me what looks, for all intent and purposes, to be a Combat Mission Sci-Fi scenario. He included no mesage other than a description, and used his actual Real World name, so there was a short period of quiet contemplation while I cast my mind back and wondered if I'd wandered onto the Outer Boards last night and, blind drunk, agreed to a Mystery Science Theatre 3000 game with some earnest nutter. Somtime thereafter a message arrived from Peng, that, if not quite making everything clear, made everything less foggy. While I deplore the use of trickery and weirdness in CM scenarios (this is not a David Copperfield show, lad), and, although he's a devious sod and somewhat half-witted, Chrisl is a good opponent and fundamentally sound (his brain could take the weight of a couple of small children walking across it, but likely not a compact car, even if travelling very fast). It will, on the other hand, be good to smite Peng again. It has been some time, especially with he and Elvis turning the Pennsylvania phone system into a dedicated landline devoted to their interminable TCP/IP games (they're like chain-gamers, using the end of one game to light up the next one). Between the two of them they've probably created a version of the occassionally requested, vomit-making 'Campaign Game' for CM (follow along with 'Dog' company as this scrappy gang of GIs fight in every major battle of the war, and, although every single member has been killed, wounded or rotated out 3-4 times, you still get to pretend it's the same happy gang of psychopaths you landed on the beaches with, and have given all the men names from the old 'Combat!' series, as well as awarding them medals, advancing their experience points, and, when there's a lull between battles, dressing them in different outfits, including combat casuals, combat formals, and, for that special leave in Paris, combat cross-dressing! I see this gibberish is once again erupting on the Outer Boards.) Come, Peng, I will show you where the little Iron Exercise Wheels grow! (the latter is a combination reference to two rather bizarre and disparate phenomena) [ 07-01-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by MrPeng: Seanachai: Listen to this. You started this whole bloody god awful mess and I hate you for it. The depth of my hate for you goes well beyond any circle of hell that berli could devise... ... If anyone has a particularly unpleasant thing to play please send it my way so I can beat Seanachai over the head with it. This Challenge aint over boyo. Not by a long shot. dammit Peng<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Peng, I feel your pain. Well, not actually, but I like to take out the videos of it and watch them when I'm simply incapable of sending more turns. Nothing has given me more pleasure...okay, let's re-think that. Very few things, other than a certain amount of Serious Substance Abuse; several women; the poetry of Yeats, James Tate, and Lawrence Ferlinghetti; a number of novels by individuals like Alexandre Dumas, Rostand, Terry Pratchett, Michael Malone, Graham Swift, and the Icelandic Sagas, as well as some of Pawbroon's more effusive and enigmatic posts, have given me as much pleasure as having challenged your Vile and Worthless Self to a PBEM, and all the horror that's followed there upon. When the Great Scorer comes to write against my name, he shall make a symbol to indicate: Lost to Peng. And are we not all, all, lost to Peng? Adrift in an ocean of idiocy, we have drifted upon this foreign shore, until, like Miranda we exclaim: O brave new world, That has such people in't! Of course, she rather liked the newcomers she encountered, whereas we hate and despise all that come here. Yet they remain our own, and we have, at last, come home.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Stalin's Organ: WHAAAATTT??? You mean that pitiful excuse for toe jam actually sent me that lovely looking little stroll in the park at your behest? He DID WHAT HE WAS TOLD???<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Previously, I had thought better of the Board's Kiwis. I am hard put to decide what, amidst this rather vague annoyance, Stalin's Organ is saying. If you are speaking of Rune, then no, he comes not nor departs at my behest. For that matter, neither does anyone else, you utterly dim little pillock. Rune moves upon the face of the waters like a Darkness. Not in an interesting and special way like Berli, mind you, but in a way quite outside the comprehension of piddlers like yourself. If, instead, and I take it as more likely, you are refering to Mr. Johnson (who has been here before, albeit briefly, and did not accrue enough recognition to be accepted in his last jaunt), then he did not respond at my behest (nice use of the the archaic, I'll give you that), because he had posted his response before my rather heavy-handed fiat had been advanced. What he did, actually, was respond to a Challenge, as conceived and phrased by a Seniour Knight of the Peng Challenge Thread (there's One revealed, anyone keeping score?), and showing the willingness to strive to belong to the community, however horrible it might be, and to undertake, in all honour, the challenge presented to him as a means of doing so. <BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Stalin's Organ: Good grief - is there no sense of shame here? What wil hte pool come to if the bright future as represented by SSN's, Git's and other assorted centres of excellence start actually taking notice of old farts with nothing better to do than collect garbage runoff to wash their hair in?? Oh well....it's started already, so despite my monumental lack of concern for anything posted here I do feel honour bound to han Mr Johnson his accompanying parts on a platter.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Well, in the end, you showed at least a willingness to walk the path of acceptance. Sense of shame? In bales and bundles, lad. But no shame in maintaining some standards of participation. Rank arrogance is as vulgar as fawning servility. Games can be gotten anywhere. Dominance is sought by the emotionally needy. Those who post here, come to play, and play. Two paths we maintain here. The Game, most perfect, and apt to the hand of a warrior by which joy and resolution may be achieved. The Peng Challenge Thread, most imperfect and sublime, by which a puckish delight in the game may be achieved, at some expense to one's opponents, both real and potential. If you've come to just display your little all, and have no interest in the folk here, then go elsewhere. There are ladders and opponent finders, and bears, oh my! If you'd like to find Real, Awful, Honourable, and Vile individuals to exchange turns and emails, as well as taunts, boasts, and, ultimately, understanding with, then you've come to the right place. Otherwise, well, there's a place in Hell for you. But we've connections there, you see, and it'll be the cheap seats.

A barren heath, on the edge of a shadowy wasteland Thunder. Enter three figures. One is indeterminate, shrouded in smoke, with eyes of flame. One is sour and judgemental, arms crossed on chest (and one hand seems to be clutching an almost empty bottle of Jameson's). One is a vague, smiling, unkempt old man from whom seems to be proceeding the lyrics "Oh, you New York girls, can you dance the polka?" Peng Where hast thou been, Old One? Berli Killing swine. Seanachai Which one? Berli Does it matter? Seanachai Not for our purposes, no. We are here met, our will to make known. Peng The bottle you gave me's empty. I thought we were going to meet in a pub. Seanachai Christ on a crutch, Peng, you have no sense of occassion. produces a green glass bottle from under his tattered clothes Thank God I stopped at the State Store on the way here. Peng Now, by this bottle of whiskey clearly upraised, and drained by me is the Wasteland made glorious, and all my futures made victorious. They that have my defeat sought, by this amber fluid, I hold them naught I will drain it dry as hay Sleep shall I not by night nor day Until in the beds they've made Their hollow boasts at last are laid. Weary shall be all their posts as hollow drums their endless boasts Until that day that 'Lost to Peng', Be followed quick with 'Yes, again.' The other two exchange stunned glances Berli That was just Jameson's, wasn't it? Seanachai I didn't put anything else in it, if that's what you mean. Drum within Peng A drum, a drum! Shandorf doth come. ALL The Old Ones, hand in hand, In the Wasteland, make a stand, Thus do go about, about Thrice to thine and thrice to mine And thrice again, to make up nine. Peace! the charm's wound up. Enter Shandorf and Panzer Leader Shandorf So then I said, 'Hell, I can kick his ass. Damn right! Panzer Leader How the hell do you put up with yourself? You're an annoying, shallow, boasting sack of... glancing up, after an empty 16 oz. draught can of Guinness bounces off his thick head, he sees the Three Figures But what is this to which my eyes aspire So august and so wild in their attire, That look not like the inhabitants of earth, And yet are on't? Live you? or are you aught That git may question? You seem to understand me, Which I must deem some miracle of irony Given that as thick as two short planks be I That one atop the other doth lie. That such as thee my discourse follow given that my head's quite hollow I take as sign that I am not rejected and that even my idiocy shall be accepted. Shandorf Shut the help up, you SSN, I was talking! Seanachai All hail, Shandorf! hail to thee, champion of the Peng Challenge Thread! Berli All hail, Shandorf, hail to thee, warrior of the Winecap Invitiational! Peng All...hell, is that Shandorf? I need a drink. Panzer Leader I can't believe this! They're choosing you to represent the goddamn Peng Challenge Thread?! They wouldn't even let me start the next incarnation, and they let an awful lump of ****e like you represent the Cesspool?! There are no gods! Why, I'm going to... Berli Hail! Peng Hail! Seanachai Oh hell. Panzer Leader? Panzer Leader ...demand that something be - yes? Seanachai Shut the hail up. Shandorf Hot damn! Does this mean I get the Cesspool nod to fight in the tournament?! Seanachai That happy lot is yours, though we bear it ill! Peng Berli and Shandorf, that shall be kings hereafter! Hell! I need a drink. Panzer Leader Stay, you figures of glory, tell me more! How that Shandorf, low and brutish Shall the Thread Eternal, most revered don armor for, and fight upon the lists It stands not within the prospect of belief, and I accept it not, nor shall persuaded be until to me you tell, by what right, of power or of glory, the feckless churl claims precedence and gains the countenance of such as thee? Speak, I charge you. The Two Figures glance sideways at Seanachai Berli Panzer Leader said that? Seanachai Oh hell no, he's not capable. I wrote that for him. Needed a bit of the theatrical moment there...it's hard, most of them are so bloody dim. I just couldn't let him go on with his usual 'here! Wait! That's not fair! I hate him, he's dumb!' sort of enjoinder. He's not such a bad lad, actually, just misguided. Peng I thirst! Where are we supposed to be next? Seanachai Let me see...Oh dear. Berli What? Seanachai Back in the Wasteland, dealing with the whole 'John Thomas' issue. Berli The two wankers? Bring it on. [ 06-30-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Alright, then, it's time for a dose (however brief, and not to use a terminology that probably causes Shandorf some discomfort) of Reality. There are Seniour Knights, the Elders of the 'Pool (You didn't know? You weren't told? You don't know who they are? Of course not, you aren't one. No one cares about your pain and confusion). There are Knights. There are Squires. There are various Honorifics, and Invested Positions. There are Serfs, Piss-boys, and SSNs. But there are also the Old Ones. Mocked and belittled, derided and abused, and reviled as any member of this Thread may be, but they retain certain rights, perogatives, and powers. I invoke one now. No Knight of the Eternal Peng Challenge Thread is to accept a game from Stalin's Organ. There will be no baseless accusations of pusillanimity made here against those who simply want to see standards maintained (such as they are). Nor should any Squire, unless set to it by their sponsor (or a large group of drunken yahoos chanting for blood. As I said, we have our standards). I find Mark IV's requirement that Mr. Johnson and Stalin's Organ meet on the Field of Honour (careful where you step, it is, after all, our Field of Honour you're being offered) to decide the welcome they shall receive here. They have been made an offer beyond their station. Rune himself (you f'ing sod, one more of your scenarios and I swear that Hell may gape, scratch itself, and mutter about its little aches and pains without holding any horror for me) has offered them a scenario upon which glory may be gained, and many sins excused in the playing thereof. That is what they are given. They play, stand, go, or are ignored by their choice. Shall we allow the pain, agony and fortitude of individuals like the much worthier Capt. Foobar and Roborat to go unmarked (christ, how I laughed at the thought they actually tried to play through that goddamn thing of Berli's. They're heroes, both of them. Thicker than rocks banged together, but one must admire their determination), by allowing unwashed puddles of spit to dictate their own conditions, having ignored every opportunity to become members of the community? I think not. Will they, nil they, the choice is theirs. No further notice be made of them until we hear their decisions.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by bauhaus: Speaking of Satan, you probably won't be seeing him for awhile. He just got his mac back <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Berli's on a Mac? A kinship suspected and then dismissed (bloody zip files), and suddenly the Universe seems a better place.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by YK2: I wouldn't take too much notice of what I think Dalem... Cos I also think PL is indeed Seanachiacoochiecoo, and Col Sanders is my own fair PawBroon....I'm pretty sure Croda and Meeks are in here somewhere as well.. And not forgetting PENG, He is also........ Awwwww ****.... Time for my medication now......<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Dear and beautiful Lady, should I ever actually enter this Thread under another guise, it would not be as the somewhat besotted and irony impaired figure cut by Panzer Leader. I work with the lad, that I do. Should I ever decide to take on another 'persona', I will personally email you the secret of my 'other' identity, so that you won't have to contemplate a horror as great as the one you've just proposed. Now, I must bathe. In alcohol. The very concept of inhabiting the same personal locus as Panzer Leader has disturbed me beyond words. Squire to me he may be, but any closer identification should not be made, even in jest.