Seanachai

Yes, yes, I'm here. You are never alone, Dalem. We are always with you.

Falling into 35 degree water ruins all your days. At least, any that were remaining.

Bourbon and Coca Cola. Jesus wept. Goddamn Wisco cheesehead. It's like the Almighty was looking for a place to make cows look as smart as the people who milked them.

Sod that for a lark. He's pissed his bed, now let him lie in it. Sir Sir 37mm it is. They never think.

Shush... I'm trying to do my taxes here. Hey, is donating lumber and nails to the Minneapolis PD a charitable donation, do ya think? </font>

A $7 tab of green pyramid, 3/4s of a litre of absolutely disgusting cheap white wine, and two hits of hash, and I could still write better fecking gibberish than this, in the day. Young people today, they have no standards. I'd be willing to bet that Sir Sir 37mm did that whole, poncing bit of type-written vomit dead straight and sober. I'd cut off me own fecking hands if I'd written something that idiotic, even if I was sober.

Bloody French South Africans. Neither English, nor Boer, but just.... Well, you can take them out of France, but you can't take the French out of 'em. Alice told me you have...issues.

Drop your dacks and show 'em your rear end. They like that. Also, lob a few of the empties their way, they like that too. </font>

Don't get snarky with me, Mace.

G'night, Joseph. I'm just going to have a bit more fun, then, eh? Take care, you reformed Texan.

YOU HEAR THAT, YOU SCROFULOUS BASTARDS?! I DON'T WORK FOR YOU, I'M CURRENTLY IN THE SERVICE OF THE JUSTICARIATE OF THE PENG CHALLENGE THREAD! I GET PAID THE SAME WHETHER YOU'RE HAPPY OR NOT, YOU BLUE-UNIFORMED BASTARDS! WHAT ABOUT A JOLLY SINGSONG, OFFICERS?! Thanks and praises Thanks to jesus I bet on the bottle of smoke I went to hell And to the races To bet on the bottle of smoke The day being clear The sky being bright He came up on the left Like a streak of light Like a drunken **** On a saturday night Up came the bottle of smoke Twenty ****ing five to one Me gambling days are done I bet on a horse called the bottle of smoke And my horse won Stewards inquiries Swift and fiery I had the bottle of smoke Inquisitions and suppositions I had the bottle of smoke **** the stewards A trip to lourdes Might give the old ****ers The power of sight Screaming springers and stoppers And call out coppers But the money still gleams in my hand like a light Bookies cursing Cars reversing I had the bottle of smoke Glasses steaming Vessels bursting I had the bottle of smoke Slip a fifty to the wife And for each brat a crisp new five To give me a break on a saturday night When I had the bottle of smoke Priests and maidens Drunk as pagans They had the bottle of smoke Sins forgiven and celebrations They had the bottle of smoke **** the yanks And drink their wives The moon is clear The sky is bright I’m happy as the horses ****e Up came the bottle of smoke PEPPER SPRAY?! YOWZA! I NEED SOME MARINADE FOR THIS CHICKEN, YOU BUGGERS!

By the way, Joe, shouldn't you be in bed? You're not getting any younger, you know. A man your age needs his sleep...

AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Did you realize that if you put on headphones and turn them up really, really, REALLY loud, that you can't hear the fact that sound is still blaring out of the room speakers?! YAH, YOU BASTARDS! SEE THIS?! hopping on one foot, covering one eye and giving the finger to whoever is shining a light in from the squad car in the street I'M AN OLDE ONE OF THE PENG CHALLENGE THREAD! HELP ME, BOO! THEY'RE TRYING TO CRUCIFY ME!

Goddamn coffee. Hey, Joe where you goin' with that mike in your hand? Am I being supportive enough of the Justicariate? Man, why do they keep shining that spotlight in through the front windows? I'm pretty damn sure I muted the stereo...

Ask not what your Justicariate might do to you, but ask rather what you can do for your Justicar. The Man says jump, I wanna see 3 feet of air between your feet and the floor, you lot of absolute degradations of human genetic material.

Bah! I wave both my hand and one finger of it at you. I could get in the car right now and be at the child's house by breakfast time. Have you completely missed the fact that NGCavscout and myself are neighbours? He's in Wisconsin, and I'm in Minnesota. Of course, our country, America, is larger than the entire island that you consider a 'continent'. So perhaps that threw you off. A five and a half hour drive would put me in Cavscout's bloody front yard. He lives in the southern arse-end of Wisconsin, of course, where no one in their bloody right-mind would go if it wasn't to hang out with himself and his fine family. On the other hand, it's right on the road to visit Berli, Moriarity and the ineffable Bauhaus. Not to mention that totalitarian toad, Rune. And Persephone. Also, probably other, lesser CMers. In Australia, isn't a 5 and 1/2 hour drive what most of you lot have to do in order to reach a bookstore, theater, opera house or other center of culture? Here in America, we have to drive that far to get to Beloit. In other words, we have to drive that far to AVOID any center of culture. [ March 24, 2006, 10:35 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

DOROSH? DOROOOOOOOSSSSSHHHHHH! Where's that little Canadian pisswater? I'm after needing a good fight. Here, one of you runny-nosed little pissants who hang about the place go out and be after dragging Grog Dorosh in here for me. Make your fecking selves useful.

It's like you're...inside my head. ARE YOU INSIDE MY HEAD, BOO? ARE YOU?! ARE YOU?!! Look, if you are, would you poke around a bit and see if you can recover any memories about June, 1983? I think I had some pretty amazing adventures that month, but they're lost to me. That's a good lad.

What in the name of all the randy hells is a 'wendy house'?

Oh yeah? Well, in my previous existence I slapped the snot out of your previous incarnation while hand-maidens watched and tittered over it. By my reckoning, you've spent hundreds and hundreds of dollars sloshing wine over CMer scum all over the world...and yet I AM STILL SOBER RIGHT NOW! Subjected thus, How can you say to me, I am a king?

Aussie halfwit. All worthwhile children begin life knowing that I'm here. It is I that will teach them about the Peng Challenge Thread. It's like a very strange, very limited version of 'racial memory'.

By the gods, 'Firefly' is one of the best shows that was ever done. And Boo Radley is a low, lying, cheating, loathsome bit of manhood who has, over the last few weeks, repeatedly failed to send me our next setup. Ignore the protests that he will shortly show up here to spray about like a leaking colostomy bag. In a show-down over Truth, Beauty and Goodness, who would you choose? Myself, or Boo? Oh, and just to reiterate the obvious: Dalem is Jayne Cobb.

Your fetishistic obsessions are becoming...disturbing.

Grog Dorosh...thinks I'm pretty! I'm cute, I'm cute, I'm cute! He thinks I'm cuuuuuuuuuuuuute! I'm giddy! No, wait. I think I'm nauseous. shrugs How about a quick somewhat strange jolly singsong, eh? I feel pretty Oh so pretty I feel pretty and witty and...gay (Now wait a bloody minute, I don't feel...) And I pity Any 'Pooler who isn't me today! I feel charming Oh so charming It's alarming how charming I feel And so pretty That I hardly can believe I'm real See that drunken fool in that mirror there? Who can that drunken sot be? Such a pretty face Such an empty glass Such a pretty smile Such a pretty me! I feel stunning And entrancing Feel like running And dancing for joy For I'm fancied By a pretty wonderful Grog! Aussie Chorus Have you met my good friend Seanachai Craziest bastard on the block? You'll know him the minute you see him He's the one in an advanced state of drunk He thinks he's attractive But he's just deranged He isn't good looking He's merely insane It must be the beer Or some mental disease Or too much whisky Or maybe it's fleas Keep away from him Send for Peng This is not the Seanachai we know Modest and pure Polite and refined Well-bred and mature And out of his mind! Olde One, Olde One, speech! Olde One, bravo, speech! I feel pretty Oh so pretty That the city should give me its key A committee Should be organized to honour me I feel dizzy I feel sunny I feel fizzy and funny and fine And so pretty That Queen Emma can just resign See the drunken swine in that mirror there (What mirror, where?) Who can that drunken sot be? (Which, what, where, whom?) Such a pretty face Such an empty glass Such a pretty smile Such a pretty me! Seanachai and SSN Chorus I feel stunning And entrancing Feel like running and dancing for joy For I'm admired By a pretty wonderful Grog! Thank you all, and now, I think it's time for a walk around the park, and then a good, solid vomit. Selah.

NGCavscout, you wretched little man, Congratulations to your wonderful wife! You, of course, simply bask undeservedly in the light of her achievement. Ah, Kathleen. That was the name of my departed sister. Good choice. She will grow up to be sharp, organized, pretty, funny and assertive. On the down-side, she's going to be a bit of a Drama Queen, and stubborn as hell.