Geier

Is that what you're talking about? Or is it that which you're talking about? Or this? What are you talking about? And why should anyone care?

And you claim to have relations from Yorkshire? How old are you, or wait, don't answer that, you already have. You simply weren't alive during Thatcher. So, SSN's haven't changed much either I see. BUT! Are there any other games the MBT has spilled into over the years? I do so miss making you cry of despair and CM:BfN isn't due for a month, so what other virtual places can one find you lot these days. Don't make me hunt you down, that's so expensive.

"To the North! Where we do what we want!" So you're all beta-testing then, I gather? I did not realize just how desperate ol' Battlefront has become.

Apparently, there shall be no flamethrowers in CM: BfN. But the Nahverteidigungswaffen are in so there is no cause for alarm. Well, actually, there IS cause for alarm since we are left with only playing against you lot. And who in the nine hells let that compulsory-posting Grog in? I blame Joe Shaw. As, I hope, do you all.

And this is a great change in what way exactly?

Oh, around. Calradia, Angmar, Gotham City, some armpit countries in Africa, The Citadel, Rome, Moscow and Taipei, Arras and some other places we can't remember. But then I heard something about Normandy and flamethrowers so I ventured by and found you lot sadly not blown to smithereens and figured, hey, if you want something done well, you'll have to it yourself cause Seanachai sure isn't going to.

Oh, so you're all still alive eh, after all these years. Life is just too full of these small disappointments, but we'll manage. And young Master Hiram too. What were the odds, we ask you? Strange, it feels slightly reassuring that despite your worst efforts, the universe has yet to realize its mistake and whisked you away. If we were the pondering kind, we would have to ponder this. But we are not, so there you are. Now, about that flamethrower. It's ours and we wants it.

I want flamethrowers.

Not interested in current conflict theory. Your guess is probably better than mine. Now please tell me how and why this game is going to be fun to play. I haven't figured that part out yet. As to your obvious disappointment to the reactions of many of your loyal customers, have you forgotten why you had to shut down the GF? I'm very surprised at this decision. Let's leave it at that.

Well done! Here's som Neil Young for you. Take the simple case of the sarge Who couldn't go back to war 'Cause the hippies tore down everything that he was fighting for.

At last you're making sense, you tottering nitwit. Even if the True Purpose of this Thread, hatred and animosity, has become hidden under a debris of a caricature of a parody of a spoof of pastiche of a farce, it is still the Mutha Beautiful Thread and if I had my way, well, let's not go there. It's slippery. What was I on about? Oh yes. Shut the hell up! I'm trying to get some. Sleep! Don't let the bedbugs rip your head off.

Turns are right out. I mean it. Right out.

Stuff will happen. Things will explode. Other things will not. Turns will be out. Eventually.

*pokes both stickypixie's eyes out with a very pointy stick* I suppose you'll be needing my address? </font>

He's been reading Pratchett again. It'll wear off. Eventually.

Then you're reading it wrong. Obviously. Are you absolutely sure that you are not a complete idiot? That would explain so much. I suggest you delve deeply into the matter.

Can anyone figure out the connection? David Lynch. The severed ear in the opening scene. Blue Velvet. I'm omnipotent. And wouldn't be seen alive drinking decaffinated anything.

In the name of recycling I thought I'd repost the one and only post by me that Hiram found funny. We do so enjoy it when young Hiram feels entertained. Ahem: Thankewe. Edited for the fact that we can

Seems like someone is desperate for our attention. Why not go over there and listen to mensch for a month or so instead. You might learn something. There were other things on my mind but they can, as most of you insignificant lot, wait. Time for beddy-bye.

Who, exactly? Never heard of him. Make him a kanigget? Has he even played Crodaburg yet? Personally, I don't believe in him at all. But that's just me.

What kind of exams do they have in clown college? </font>

As if they ever bothered with reasons. I don't believe in them anyway. Except Speedy, I've never, for some obscure reason, managed to not-believe in him. In other boars, no turns out for a day or two unless you get lucky. Got the boogie-woogie flu (without the musical bits) and exams tomorrow and Friday. I believe it safe, as always, to say that it must suck to be you. Any of you. Yes, you too.

Tis shurely a sign of the End of Days when the foul smelling bastards of yesteryear show up once more. Cause for celebration if I ever saw one. Here's a page with some good old Grog Porn for all you little smelly rodents.

Either we have a fanboy doing headers for The Guardian or the stars are right. Coincidence? I think not.

This one scores a bit above the "fair" mark: Ozymandias I met a traveler from an antique land Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone Stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand, Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, Tell that its sculptor well those passions read Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed: And on the pedestal these words appear: 'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' Nothing beside remains. Round the decay Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare The lone and level sands stretch far away.