Papa Khann

Clearly, Abbott, this is your finest post to date. Succinct and, if you ever had a point worth making to address, I'm sure it would encompass your feelings on the matter nicely. I prefer it to those longer posts of yours where you still have no point, yet manage to occupy a greater amount of space. Keep up the good work. Papa

It's good to see you haven't given up the dream of finding true love. I just hope for your sake that this time it won't lead to another stint wearing a tracking bracelet around your ankle. Papa

Man, I brought you ammo, found your cat, left you booze... I'm way too nice and useful to you guys. </font>

Overweight and washed up? Papa

Of course you are. Wedgie's are part of your standard greeting ritual. Along with threatening the guests by brandishing a firearm in one hand and a sabre in the other. This is why I always create a diversion on your front steps (Joe's arrival should work nicely for that), then slip in the back way. And some folks wonder why dalem spends so much time alone. Papa

Come to think of it, dalem's copy of Sword of Rome has a lot of pictures similar to this one in it. Did you borrow one of dalem's books, Boo? Papa

Joe, I have to ask, do you just wander around the countryside hoping MBT members will front you for a free meal? No matter, now that we know he's on his way (it's got to take a long time to peddle all the way here from the salt marshes), we can discuss which of our favorite games to play when he arrives... whack-a-Joe, pin-the-tail-on-the-old-Joe, spin-the-Joe. All are good fun. But at his age we don't want to overtax his endurance. Papa

Lars, I hate you so much. Papa

Dude, just check the back of the one you have on. Papa </font>

Dude, just check the back of the one you have on. Papa

Those of us who rely on said behaviors to earn an honest living abhor you, you ponce. Oh, and please apologize to your entire neighborhood for me on account of I forgot your birthday. I forgot to come over and nail your doors shut, to shelter them all from what no doubt turned into yet another of your drunken rampages through their front lawns. Sorry. Really, really sorry about that. Also, you need to keep your day open on Sunday. Not sure I recall why exactly, except that it will please me and avail you of an opportunity to avoid displeasing me. Papa PS Bring lots of small bills this time. I'm running low on change. [ May 16, 2008, 08:25 PM: Message edited by: Papa Khann ]

After reading your other post - the one about playing a sport - I know we have one thing in common, anyhow. </font>

You left out a digit. I fixed it for you. Papa </font>

And do you get little misty eyed recalling those days, Joe? How about when you recall the days when you and your kin went out to hunt woolly mammoth? Papa

You left out a digit. I fixed it for you. Papa

Nutri-Grain Blueberry Naturally And Artificially Flavored Cereal Bars. Mmmmm. Good. And wholesome too. It's not just any breakfast bar that can be both naturally and artificially flavored. Papa

Well, I do feel a power, and it does compel me. Not sure about the Christ part though. So what's next? You adorn yourself with garlic and try to shine the reflection from a silver cross into my eyes whenever you see me coming? You start taking pot shots at me with silver bullets? (Not entirely impossible, given the number of arms available at dalem's, but the odds you'd ever hit anything you were aiming at is, as they say, "slight".) You can run, old man. In fact, I think it's kind of cute when you try. It entertains me to see you staggering about, tipping over, then blurting out indecencies. (So it's got that going for it, which is nice.) But we both know you can't hide, Seanachai. Papa

Eeeeeewwww, that would be nasty. Instead, why don't we just borrow a chain saw and a jaws of life and open him up like an old sardine can? Probably find all sorts of curious objects that way. Michael </font>

Lars, this explains more than you will ever comprehend. Papa

Well, destroying the souls of your enemies IS a good time. As for the rest, that's a wicked nice dodge. Certainly better than I'd have given you credit for. And you're right (inconceivable as that may seem). Now that I know about it, you'll need to think up something new. Of course, I'll be spiking your drinks with a bit of laxative from now on, just to be sure. Papa

To be sure, Seanachai and Lars live in an alcohol based liquid medium. I like to think that dalem and I just visit the joint on weekends. Though, to be honest, I'm beginning to have doubts about dalem. Papa

Crawled out from under your rock on the wrong side of the moss this morning? Papa PS They only count as battle wounds if you received them in battle. I don't believe falling out of your chair drunk qualifies... unless of course you were locked in mortal combat with the seat cushion. PPS Even when you're testy, you're still my favorite short-gnome-guy-friend-thing. PPPS Now where is the 5 bucks you owe me?

Well another night of debauchery at dalem's has come to a close, so I thought I'd share a few of my thoughts with you all... We played Sword of Rome, a rather involved card-driven board game that can take a long time to play through to conclusion, even when half or more of the players aren't complete drunken pillocks. Lars, Seanachai and dalem are a sodding lot of drunken pillocks. I hate them all. Getting up at 8 o'clock in the morning to drive someone to the airport didn't used to feel all that bad. But it does when you get home at 4 o'clock in the freaking morning. We only made it about halfway through the game. Have I mentioned that Lars, Seanachai and dalem are a bunch of drunken pillocks? As pillocks go, Lars is an entertaining sort. Especially when he's both agitated, becaue he thinks someone has cheated him out of a cardboard chit, and so drunk he can't form intelligible speech. Truly, the man gesticulates wildly with the best of them. Calling Seanachai in from outside (where he was indulging in cigars and no doubt peering through dalem's neighbors windows) to take his turn, when in fact he'd long since run out of cards and couldn't do anything other than pass. Good fun that. Watching Lars send yet another Roman army up into the mountains to attempt to root out the Samnites, only to see the broken carcasses of his troops come tumbling off the side of the mountain. Lars seems to do that pretty much every time we play. "Lesser men" would perhaps learn from their previous mistakes. We broke in the Noo Guy, who I believe is some sort of parole officer of Seanachai's. At least they seemed to know each other. He worked out very well. Under my tutelage, he happily formed an alliance with me that benefited both of us greatly. In fact, we even formed a second alliance later in the game, after some sort of something or other caused us to not be allies briefly (I don't recall exactly what that might have been, but I'm sure it was of no real consequence). The hightlight of the evening for me was easily when this little gem occurred... ... dalem finished the last play of a turn, which to those of us not quite enebriated enough to attempt to mate with dalem's sofa CLEARLY INDICATED THAT THE FECKING TURN WAS OVER... ... At which point Seanachai, sitting to dalem's left, proceeded to inidate that he was going to PASS because he was TOO FECKING STUPID AND DRUNK to realize that the turn was actually over... ... So I took it upon myself to attempt explain to Seanachai that, being an idjit of unparalleled proportion, he had failed to realize that the turn had already ended... ... At which point Lars, sitting to Seanachai's left, indicated that he also would PASS because HE HAD CONSUMED ENOUGH RAW ALCOHOL TO FUEL A JET for a flight to Miami and was TOO FECKING STUPID AND DRUNK to realize that the turn was actually over, even though that fact had just been explained to everyone who didn't have a pair of corks from now empty vodka bottles stuck in their ears... ... At which point I attempted to explain to both Seanachai and Lars that the tiny private worlds they inhabit were in need of sunshine and fresh air... ... Upon which Lars loudly proclaimed that he was CHANGING HIS MIND and that the turn wasn't really over because he didn't want to PASS.... ... I swear on the deity of your choosing that I'm not making this up... ... How in Hades could anyone make this up?... ... Now it was at about this time that Seanachai, who would seem to possess slightly more capacity to function in a state of absolute inebriation than Lars (but only slightly mind you), finally opened his mind, however briefly, to the sound of reason and realized his error... ... At which point Seanachai ably demonstrated what a great fecking moron he truly is, and took it upon himself to try to explain the whole fecking mess to an incoherent Lars... ... Which inevitably lead to the horror of one drunken pillock attempting to enlighten an even greater drunken pillock... Sword of Rome will (hopefully) never see another moment like that one. I'd embellish the story, but how could anyone hope to top that? I should have had a camcorder with me. I could have extorted the both of them for months. Papa

Lars, I'm curious. Does that mean the previous night doesn't count, or you just can't remember back that far? Papa PS Glad to hear you eventually made it back home in one piece. Not so much because you're in one piece as it ensures that, at least for the time being, Shari may be less likely to pull Seanachai apart like a rotten wishbone then beat me to death with one of his appendages.