Seanachai

How wonderfully refreshing. Wait! No it's not. The best thing I can say about this is that's it's just as stupid and pointless as a lot of the 'dying with anticipation' threads that preceded the previous games. Except for the 'rhubarb' thing. That was a bit different. Otherwise, it was depressingly witless. Rhubarb. You take what you can get, I guess. I wish I was at liberty to travel about the country, meeting posters from the Combat Mission Forum, and tasering most of the bastards into vomit and urine soaked puddles of piss...

Oh, speaketh the Great One who just started the other Peng thread.Drunk again are we? </font>

That will just get everyone depressed. </font>

That will just get everyone depressed. </font>

That will just get everyone depressed. </font>

This thread is becoming...stupid. Good tea. Nice house.

Now is the time, Dorosh. Declare yourself the Great Darkness, and begin recruiting. Oh, c'mon. You know you want to.

Now is the time, Dorosh. Declare yourself the Great Darkness, and begin recruiting. Oh, c'mon. You know you want to.

Now is the time, Dorosh. Declare yourself the Great Darkness, and begin recruiting. Oh, c'mon. You know you want to.

You don't even use UBB code well, you Canadian halfwit.

You don't even use UBB code well, you Canadian halfwit.

You don't even use UBB code well, you Canadian halfwit.

You can either deliver up to me a virtual Labatt's Blue label, or you can shut the hell up and read what I've written, and choose a side in the coming madness of combat and Thread violence. Pillock.

You can either deliver up to me a virtual Labatt's Blue label, or you can shut the hell up and read what I've written, and choose a side in the coming madness of combat and Thread violence. Pillock.

You can either deliver up to me a virtual Labatt's Blue label, or you can shut the hell up and read what I've written, and choose a side in the coming madness of combat and Thread violence. Pillock.

No...no...I don't think so. Dorosh misquotes a Dire Straits song, and Lars has gotten several deviants to re-post a picture of himself after his recent round of hormone shots and a bikini wax. And the Rules were a limp recycling of stale urine. It's bad enough we begin with Rules, without pissing them through again. I will now exercise a seldom witnessed Power of the Olde Ones, and I will sack this incarnation of the Thread in favour of whatever the hell I decide to do next. Yes, it's arrogant, and yes, it's an abuse of power. But I'm primarily abusing Lars, so it's the equivalent of a victimless crime. Follow this link in order to realize your true potential: To Serve in Hell

If there's anything more important than 'Rules', it's the knowledge that we are all, one day, going to be thoroughly, thoroughly dead. And rotted. No 'Combat Mission: Your Favourite Flavour Here'. No 'I Should Have Made Love to SO Many More People/Creatures/Objets d'Art'. No more chances to post in the Peng Challenge Thread. I see you recoil in horror, and well you should. It is only by suppressing this knowledge that the average person can carry on, remain sane, and deal with the day to day vagaries of life. It is part of a great 'process of denial' that functioning beings live with every day. In the face of our own mortality, we create 'coping mechanisms'. We raise of up Figures of Authority. We create Mythologies, and we invest Systems of Belief with the Power of Law. We empower our Hopes, and we tremble before our Fears. And, after enough time has passed, and enough belief has been pumped into the system, and enough pronouncements have been made by 'Those in Authority'. we achieve a sort of peace. We think that we know who we are, and we imagine that we know why we are here, and from this knowledge we derive comfort, and have the serenity to chart the course that we think we should follow. BUT IN THIS INCARNATION OF THE PENG CHALLENGE THREAD, I COME TO YOU BEARING NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD! FOR ONLY BY THE CHALLENGE, IN ITS PUREST FORM, SHALL YOU BE KNOWN. Three Were, Remain, and Always Will Be. The Olde Ones of the Peng Challenge Thread. There will not be Anarchy. But now, let Us kick out the worn stops of Order, Understanding, and Duty. Powers and Principalities. Divisions, Combat, and Strife. Cherubim and Seraphim. Devils and Demons. No Knights, Senior Knights, Squires, Serfs. None of the carefully contrived hierarchies that make the trains run on time, and keep the Darkness further away than the last beer. In the interest of focus, we'll simply ask you to stand with the Forces of Light, or the Army of Darkness.

If there's anything more important than 'Rules', it's the knowledge that we are all, one day, going to be thoroughly, thoroughly dead. And rotted. No 'Combat Mission: Your Favourite Flavour Here'. No 'I Should Have Made Love to SO Many More People/Creatures/Objets d'Art'. No more chances to post in the Peng Challenge Thread. I see you recoil in horror, and well you should. It is only by suppressing this knowledge that the average person can carry on, remain sane, and deal with the day to day vagaries of life. It is part of a great 'process of denial' that functioning beings live with every day. In the face of our own mortality, we create 'coping mechanisms'. We raise of up Figures of Authority. We create Mythologies, and we invest Systems of Belief with the Power of Law. We empower our Hopes, and we tremble before our Fears. And, after enough time has passed, and enough belief has been pumped into the system, and enough pronouncements have been made by 'Those in Authority'. we achieve a sort of peace. We think that we know who we are, and we imagine that we know why we are here, and from this knowledge we derive comfort, and have the serenity to chart the course that we think we should follow. BUT IN THIS INCARNATION OF THE PENG CHALLENGE THREAD, I COME TO YOU BEARING NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD! FOR ONLY BY THE CHALLENGE, IN ITS PUREST FORM, SHALL YOU BE KNOWN. Three Were, Remain, and Always Will Be. The Olde Ones of the Peng Challenge Thread. There will not be Anarchy. But now, let Us kick out the worn stops of Order, Understanding, and Duty. Powers and Principalities. Divisions, Combat, and Strife. Cherubim and Seraphim. Devils and Demons. No Knights, Senior Knights, Squires, Serfs. None of the carefully contrived hierarchies that make the trains run on time, and keep the Darkness further away than the last beer. In the interest of focus, we'll simply ask you to stand with the Forces of Light, or the Army of Darkness.

If there's anything more important than 'Rules', it's the knowledge that we are all, one day, going to be thoroughly, thoroughly dead. And rotted. No 'Combat Mission: Your Favourite Flavour Here'. No 'I Should Have Made Love to SO Many More People/Creatures/Objets d'Art'. No more chances to post in the Peng Challenge Thread. I see you recoil in horror, and well you should. It is only by suppressing this knowledge that the average person can carry on, remain sane, and deal with the day to day vagaries of life. It is part of a great 'process of denial' that functioning beings live with every day. In the face of our own mortality, we create 'coping mechanisms'. We raise of up Figures of Authority. We create Mythologies, and we invest Systems of Belief with the Power of Law. We empower our Hopes, and we tremble before our Fears. And, after enough time has passed, and enough belief has been pumped into the system, and enough pronouncements have been made by 'Those in Authority'. we achieve a sort of peace. We think that we know who we are, and we imagine that we know why we are here, and from this knowledge we derive comfort, and have the serenity to chart the course that we think we should follow. BUT IN THIS INCARNATION OF THE PENG CHALLENGE THREAD, I COME TO YOU BEARING NOT PEACE, BUT A SWORD! FOR ONLY BY THE CHALLENGE, IN ITS PUREST FORM, SHALL YOU BE KNOWN. Three Were, Remain, and Always Will Be. The Olde Ones of the Peng Challenge Thread. There will not be Anarchy. But now, let Us kick out the worn stops of Order, Understanding, and Duty. Powers and Principalities. Divisions, Combat, and Strife. Cherubim and Seraphim. Devils and Demons. No Knights, Senior Knights, Squires, Serfs. None of the carefully contrived hierarchies that make the trains run on time, and keep the Darkness further away than the last beer. In the interest of focus, we'll simply ask you to stand with the Forces of Light, or the Army of Darkness.

Bah! I wave my hand at you. You're a Wal-Mart knock-off of Jayne, you piddler. Not to mention that you are so Brian Dennehy...

The second one wasn't bad, but you needed to read the first one to truly appreciate that high, wild feeling of 'Where the Hell Is This All Going?!' Of course since then, we've fallen. 300 fecking posts is barely enough run-up to any worthwhile weirdness. People won't invest themselves when they know that just about the time things really get going they're going to suffer some Technological Limitation form of enforced Korsakoff's Syndrome. In order to make it all work, and colour within the lines, we have Rules and Hierarchies. Devices and Conventions. It works, and the Work continues. We are the longest running Thread on the Forums. But when you make Madness run according to Plan and by the Rules, it just becomes Government.

Jewel Staite is living with me, now, you know. When I told her that I was too old and foolish for her to waste her time on, she told me "A man who can write with such loving affection about the antics of a 4 year old girl, and yet retain such a bitter and biting wit when it comes to putting down Ohioans and Australians, is the man that I will spend the rest of my life adoring, and beguiling to the very heights of pleasure." After a while the reality of her loving presence becomes a bit shaky when the combination of rum, cough medicine, cigars and LSD begins to thin out, but re-application of one ingredient or another soon brings things back into focus, and we are once again making love in the engine room of Serenity...

Ah, Dalem. Our little mental health professional. Still doing your bit to help people put aside the fear of death, and even embrace it. Dylan Thomas would have gone fecking skipping into 'that good night' if the alternative was having to envision you tumescing over a Star Wars model.

It's 'soiree' you ignorant marsupial git. Ah, Stuka. Perhaps it's the flash photography. Perhaps it's the contrast with those brilliant, obviously artificially and over-whitened teeth. But isn't someone starting to look a bit gray? A bit ashy above the ears? Is that brilliant smile meant to dazzle and bemuse Erectile Dysfunction in an attempt to keep it at bay? "Haw, Haw, Seanachai old sod! Look at my blinding smile and array of attractively presented meat! We're not at home to Mister Wilty, no matter what my Exes have told you!" Brave, brave Stuka. You brave little soldier. You brave, brave, little, very small, doing your best to stand erect soldier. We love you, Stukes!

Imagine how THEY feel. Joe </font>