Papa Khann

You forgot to add "and can I borrow a few double sawbucks?". No, Joe-My-Liege, this time I'll pay you back. Really. Papa

Bring it on, my lad. I shall loose the minions of Panzer Armee Khann upon your unsuspecting illiterate hordes. Fascists have treads too, you know. Being that we're discussing dalem here, I think the explanation is obvious. Then again, I suppose nothing is obvious to the likes of the inbred special education poster children one can find lurking about these parts. So lets just say I have serious doubts that dalem's starting five contains any three point shooters. Papa

What is it with the incense anyway? If I want something that smells like popcorn ... I'll get some freaking popcorn ... then I can smell it AND eat it at the same time. Incense ... for people who want to play pretend. Joe</font>

See what I mean, Shaka? This is the kind of begging you're up against.</font>

If you're more interested in crushing that lackwit Pantless Leader beneath your Bolshevik treads, by all means go right ahead. Obviously you're not interested in competing against anyone who would represent a challenge. Heck, I've seen cantaloupe with more reasoning power than Pantless. You are right about one thing, however. I take one look at the likes of you, PondSlum, and I know that the "golden age" (so named, I assume, for dalem's predisposition to soil himself) of House Persiflage is over. Git. Papa

I'm not sure what I find more disturbing. The idea that you've been sniffing your dog's behind after he breaks wind, or the notion that you've been sniffing pencil erasers (and lord knows what else) in an attempt to identify the exact olfactory match. Papa

i.e., "I can run away screaming in either language"</font>

My dear Boo-Boo, must I remind you that one autocratic regime that cared not one whit for its citizens is just as good as another? Or in other words, by all means please do hasten your efforts to produce said setup file. My superior tactical awareness is fluent in both Bolshevik and Fascist. At least I get to be the good guys. Again. And stuff. Neener-neener. Papa

Funny, now that we've met, I was just thinking that you remind me of Mary Poppins. Papa

From what I've seen thus far, neither can he. Papa

Most likely they are all cousins of Lars. Papa

You too. Pillock. Papa

Send me a setup. Pillock. Papa

That's great, Boo-Boo, now stop prancing about like the fancy pony we all know you aspire to be and send me a setup. Pillock. Papa

We're on it. Hadn't you noticed? Papa

And if you insist on hanging around, I'd say it's about time you assumed your proper place in here, Andreas. Which is of course right at the head of said parade, complete with knee-high boots, big fuzzy hat, pom-poms, and baton. Not to mention a pair of flaming pink knickers. Papa

Berli, Got the game today (woo-hoo!). I'd be happy with a QB Meeting Engagment. Not too huge, 1000 - 1500 points should do. I'd also prefer to play with computer generated forces, but don't need to if that's an issue. Since you playtested (I assume) many if not all of the maps, how about you pick a map and do a setup? Papa

Let's face it, you are more then village idiot around here than Wally ever could be if he tried on a good day.</font>

This comment brought a smile to my face. You've shown some promise today, lad. A minute amount to be sure, but promise nonetheless. Well done. Now who are you, and what have you done with Andreas? Papa

Pot Calling Kettle Black</font>

I can accept cash, check, or money order. Remember Boo-Boo, no matter how bad it gets, at least you can still thumb your nose at we poor unfortunates up here in the great northland. Why, last I heard, Seanachai was considering trying out at cornerback. And even an old worn-out sack of bones like him has a real shot at making the starting lineup. Are you off your meds again? Thanks. I know you have my emotional well-being at heart. That's just the kind of guy you are, Boo. And by the way, thanks for being such a good sport about being forced to move out of your room in Mom and Dad's basement to make room for my storage area. It doesn't upset you that I'm already calling them Mom and Dad, does it? I think the favoritism they're currently showing towards me will wear off in time. The guilt of losing me in the first place, etc. So, how are things working out down at the trailer park? That's great news. Because I have a lot of stuff and now I'm thinking that I just might need that trailer of yours to stow some extra furniture. Don't you have a cousin in a van down by a river somewhere? Papa [ September 23, 2002, 12:28 AM: Message edited by: Papa Khann ]

While anyone with the common sense to tell Ass Master to stuff a cork in it can't be a complete imbecile, I feel compelled to point out that not having anything witty to say hasn't stopped you from posting in here yet, Andreas. I keep hoping though. Have we not covered this ground before? If I've told you once I've told you, well, twice now... Nice is not in our vocabulary. Papa

I take offense at your slanderous utterance, whelp. I am NOT "a Wally". Around these functionally illiterate parts, I am the preeminent Wally. Let that be a lesson to you. Papa PS By the way, Androida, I visited your "Der Kessel" and perused your crappy scenarios. Did I overlook the forum or bulletin board where visitors are encouraged to tell the scenario designer (hint: in other words, you, pillock) to 'Git stoofed'?

My dear Boo-Boo, I would be more than happy to exercise my superior tactical awareness upon your most flamboyant self. When you manage to cajole enough nickels out of poor unsuspecting innocents to place an order for CM:BB, please make sure I'm the first to know. Do try to assemble the requisite funds in a timely fashion, Boo. I know you won't let me down (mainly because I couldn't possibly have less faith in you). In fact I'm certain that even now you've adorned yourself with makeup, wig, and tawdry apparel and are currently working your stool down at the local rum-hole. And by the way, you misspelled "rococo". Git. Papa

There there, lad. No need to apologize. It's not your fault your brainpan turned out two sizes too small to accomodate even your lilliputian pumpknot of grey matter. Poor thing. Just thinking about you makes my head ache. Though I expect you're used to that by now. Papa