Papa Khann

Quick update of ongoing game. Scenario: - Jabos! Force Allotments: - The glorious forces of the Fatherland, arrayed in all their power and splendor (well, what is left of them, anyway), Me. - The pathetic alliance of wayward Yankees, refugees, and the Coalition of Wal-Mart Greeters, Joe Shaw. Turns 5 - 8: Most of my stuff is (redneck mode) blowned up REEL gud! (/redneck mode) If I concentrate, I think I can get another crew off the map. Joe, on the other hand, appears not to have any stuff. His air power strikes like the wind (or is that Joe being flatulent again?) and is gone before my dowdy young Huns are able to answer. Cowards. Land those d*mn Jabos!, draw your sidearms, and fight us like men! Papa

Joe, that is not actually SMOKE. At least not in the conventional sense you are implying. My troops and I merely made a brief stop in aisle 19 prior to the battle to procure braziers, charcoal, and weenies (yep, seen some of the Australians there, but none of them would fit in the cart). And the only reason your blasted Jabos and arty is doing so well is because we've been preoccupied barbecueing on the engine deck of every Hun tank since turn 2. Papa

R_Leete, I see you've finally scrounged up the courage to show your face again after my poetic yet stinging CHALLENGE. Excellent. Now stop wasting time prattling on at Joe (the rest of us can handle that quite nicely, but thankyou for the thought) and go prepare your next turn. The PBEM file is back in your court. No more attempting to delay your inevitable humiliation at the hands of my superior tactical awareness. Panzer Armee Khann awaits your feeble approach. Papa

Since when does it take any sort of effort to make you look bad, Joe? Papa

I'd tell you to sod off, but that was actually pretty good. For another blasted Australian, anyway. Papa

Is this Aussie daft, or is he daft? Ye gods. He is so ripe I can hardly decide where to start picking fruit first. For one thing, you periwinkle wearing knucklehead, half the bolded definitions you note are not definitions. They are Contrasted Words. Now I'm sure to your lilliputian intellect a word is a word, and you are just too happy to be able to mix one or two of them in with those disgusting popping and clicking noises you normally use to communicate. However, it might be just a wee tad easier for those of us unfortunate enough to be trapped within earshot of you to understand a single thing you say if you'd first try to buy a clue as to your own meaning. Furthermore, when I feel the need for a Prime Minister of the Pool to oversee my Cess puberty, I'll just drop another nickel in Joe. One bombastic overblown blowhard is quite enough, thankyou. No need to be dropping any more bones in the soup. Papa

Correction. Yes, it could be worse. I could have a Prime Minister. Papa

Does not compute. Naturally, I agree that Australians are, on the whole, a bunch of vacuous societal misfits and a plague upon the human condition. But how on earth could anyone be TWICE as tiresome as AussieJeff? Much less twice as tiresome as he and the rest of their shiftless lot combined. Joe, you impotent old geezer, you're even more of a dolt than I thought you were. You've gone and stated something that is a mathmatical impossibility. Papa

Quick update of ongoing game. Scenario: - Jabos! Force Allotments: - The glorious forces of the Fatherland, arrayed in all their power and splendor, Me. - The pathetic alliance of wayward Yankees, refugees, and the Coalition of Wal-Mart Greeters, Joe Shaw. Turn 3: More Jabos. The good news is, these pilots appear not to have the same ability at marksmanship that last batch had. Might I be able to sneak through on the Ami left and defeat this soggy old bird with his toe blisters and rump callouses and seemingly endless supply of aerial ordnance? Turn 4: We appear to advance without further harrassment for half a minute or so. I may make it through. I just might do it! Whats this? What is this, this THING in my path? Curses!! Tis none other than Jocular Joe himself, adorned in his tiny blue smock and that d*mned annoying Welcome to Wal-Mart button. Cover up that button, Joe! It reflects the sunlight!! You're going to attract more of those d*mn Jabos! SIGH This must be the initial batch of chicken hawking Jabo jockeys returning for another pass. Because these suckers can AIM. They wreak much havoc amongst my dowdy young Huns. Indeed, now I am reduced to gesturing frantically at my troops from the cupola of my command tank (well to the rear, I might add). I scream RUN LITTLE HUNS, RUN!! Papa

AussieJeff, it should please you no end to know that upon repeated viewings of "The Gods Must Be Crazy" and much late night study, I am now confident that I can decipher a portion (albeit small) of your gibberish. For those Pengers who likely have been perplexed by your popping and clicking noises for lord knows how long, I offer this snippet of AussieJeffs latest diatribe, which I have attempted to decipher. It appears to read: Me AussieJeff! Want to buy fish? AussieJeff, with herculean effort, I have managed to use your natvie "tongue" to compose this response, which, if I understand the customs of your tribe correctly, is suitable when responding to the least esteemed member of your society (or pod, or hive, or whatever it is): Click-click, pop. Poppety, poppety, click. Clickety pop... Pop clickety. Papa P.S. Now that I've done it, I find myself asking why on earth did I go to all that trouble for an Australian?

Quick update of ongoing game. Scenario: - Jabos! Force Allotments: - The glorious forces of the Fatherland, arrayed in all their power and splendor, Me. - The pathetic alliance of wayward Yankees, refugees, and the Coalition of Wal-Mart Greeters, Joe Shaw. Turn 1: I disperse. Where the h*ll is he? Bang-Spattla!! Oh, there he is. His Jabo kills a 20mm armored car. No great loss. That crew was on probation for stealing some of Reichsführer Khann's Schnapps from the company stores anyway. My dowdy young Huns spot a light AT gun in some woods on my flank. I decide to dismount a couple nearby infantry squads from their 251/1's to rush it next turn. Turn 2: My infantry shoots up his gun crew. We shall search the bodies and strip them of their dog tags, so as to deny them any hope of proper burial. What the h*ll... no dogtags, just little buttons that all read Welcome to Wal-Mart. Suddenly the sun is blotted out from the sky... Where the h*ll did all these d*mn Jabos come from!?! Papa

<hr> Originally posted by R_Leete: mass snippage of mindless drivel More, as to your half-hearted (and witted) attempt at a challenge: I have a website listed in my profile. <hr> Ye Gods, man! Is this the ONLY way in which you can coax unsuspecting surfers into your oooohhhh *website*. Wow. A *website*. Well ain't that just an achievement and a half. Or come to think of it, in this case, half of an achievement. Listen, laddie, I perused your pathetic excuse for a website and saw your glorified lawn mower prior to issueing my CHALLENGE to you. And if that pale imitation of wasted bandwidth was worth commenting on, I'd have done it already! <hr> Which, upon viewing, should provide ample oppourtunity for one of even your advanced senility to ridicule, debase and deride. Did you take the free shot? <hr> Obviously not. Reason? See if you can wrap the few brain cells those twisted chromosomal nightmares you call parents provided you with around this concept... Folks of my, as you put it, advanced senility (i.e., those of us old enough to have already graduated from high school... not that you probably ever will, but some day you will at least be old enough to have done so were you capable of it) DON'T ALWAYS TAKE THE EASY, CHEAP SHOT!! (O.k., most of the time, we do. But not ALWAYS!) Sometimes we actually try to EARN our accomplishments! And before you go all hissy on me, note that I have read that bald faced lie of a birth date on your profile. And I'll believe it is correct on the day that Lucifer himself knocks on my front door wearing a snowmobile suit and a stocking cap, sipping a cup of hot coa-coa and complaining bitterly about the temperature drop down below. <hr> Noooo, you just think I'm going to let it slide, and grant you a game. Whadda ya think? I'm some soft-headed old goat like Joe? <hr> No, actually I think you aspire to someday become a soft-head old goat like Joe. Not that that is anything anyone with a smidgeon of potential would aspire to. But I suppose in your case it will have to do. <hr> Taunt me all direct and personal like, and then we'll see. First, you draw blood, then say "engarde". Lesson for the day. <hr> You want it personal? Then for love of the Maker do something... I don't care, ANYTHING, that will differentiate you from the nameless, faceless rabble of mediocrity you appear to be up to your neck in. <hr> Last, what's up with all the damn conditions? As the latest SSN (at least the only one barging around like we want them here), you takes what you gets, newb. Like Jabos!, maybe. Naw, that one is too long. <hr> Good lord. Has anyone in this thread completed a basic reading comprehension course. Ever? In their entire lives? (I'm just going to assume that the answer for you, R_Leete, is no.) The word prefer denotes a preference. Which, by the way, had you the wherewithal to look it up in something called a dictionary, is not defined as a d*mn condition. Had I intended to set forth some d*mn conditions, a half-way intelligent person (not you, R_Leete) might, just MIGHT, have expected me to say these are my d*mn conditions. Discuss amongst yourselves. <hr> And other, seeing as your from the same Minisnowda as my Lord and Master, I'll grant you a boon. Pick something from Der Kessel. By the way, anyone heard from [loony] Mensch [/loony]? Byte Battles are perferred. If not, small QB. All random, either side. But beforehand, you must show me some back-stabbing verbal foreplay. I may be easy, but I'm not cheap. <hr> Oh very well. Were I chosen by the Maker to suffer the privations of: - hunger - thirst - physical torment - going through life as an Australian or Canadian - public flogging - vile wretchedness - submersion in a tomb filled to within an inch of the brim with my own filth - being forced to watch reruns of I Love Lucy until reduced to tears I would still bow down and kiss Mother Earth in gratitude that I have been spared the indignity of enduring this world as that sad and pathetic creature currently referred to as R_Leete. There, happy? Tis more than you deserve. Now on with the GAME! And a righteous good paddling shall your juvenile behind receive at the hands of my superior tactical awareness. As per your request, I have browsed the Byte Battles at Der Kessel and have chosen Trun. I have taken the liberty of completing the setup as the Axis player. The file is on it's way to you. I'd offer to play the Canadians, but that would be the closest thing to playing as the Australians as one can get in CM, and I know that Serf though I be, no one, not even a git like you, R_Leete would wish such an ignoble fate upon me. Indeed, I suspect that even those poor sods the Australians wouldn't wish it. Well, Aussie_Jeff might, but with those clicking and popping noises he uses in lieu of speech, who'd know it? Papa

Excellent. I'll be happy to give you a good drubbing, just as soon as you can get your *email situation* (does anyone else suspect he means self) straightened out. Papa

I believe Joe MAY (I'm talking about Joe here, so who knows) have been referring to human females. Papa

<hr> Originally posted by Boo_Radley: OOohhh! 'E do go on then, don't 'e? "Ooohhh, mummy, mummy, I don't wants scones wif my tea." Anything else, Papa Haydn? Maybe a halftime show starring those darlings of CM, the Audacious Australian Dance Ensemble? Perhaps we can coerce some SSNs to entertain you with sychronized sodding off. Like I say, give a serf an inch and he'll eat for a lifetime. <hr> Actually, I suspect the Australians have perfected the art of syNchronized sodding off. <hr> Originally posted by Persephone: Papa...don't try to fight it...just go with your feelings...everything will be OK...I know it's hard to believe this right now, but...Joe really is a nice guy (I think). Persephone <hr> Herr Berli, another for the bus? Oh, and I almost forgot.... <hr> Originally posted by AussieJeff: I've got only TWO words to say to you, so put both ears to the screen yer starin' at and LISTEN VERY CAREFULLY to what I have to say: PILLOCK!!! Thnakyou for your dimwitted inattention. Run along now and play with the other juveniles in the Cess wading pool... <hr> There it is again! Can anyone else hear it? The sounds remind me of the popping and clicking noises used by the remote tribe in the film "The Gods Must Be Crazy" to communicate with one another. I can't understand a "word" (for lack of a better term) of it. But I will admit, now that I know AussieJeff is actually TRYING HIS BESTEST to communicate, I find his bevy of unintelligible sounds slightly less annoying. Papa

<hr> Originally posted by dalem: Dammit. Someone's got to clean up after those giraffes..... <hr> The sounds you hear are, in order: 1) Me dropping the mop and pail. 2) Me pounding on the interior wall of The Box, demanding to be let out. At least until my status as "personal" Serf to dalem has been properly instigated and approved. Papa P.S. My CHALLENGE to R_Leete, however, stands as stated. Upon further reflection I've concluded that he is a git. And I intend to tote him about on a leash in front of the entire Peng community in order to prove it. [ June 25, 2002, 02:03 AM: Message edited by: Papa Khann ]

Ack [ June 25, 2002, 02:04 AM: Message edited by: Papa Khann ]

Just took a peek at it for the first time and now have it book-marked. Looks like a really fun tool and very useful. This is right up my ally because I prefer the realism of computer generated forces. Hope you decide to keep this around. Papa

<hr> Originally posted by Berlichtingen: So you're taking folks with you? Outstanding! Please include the following: Gunny Dummy Iron Dumb Ass Sakai LOSERNAME All Canadians That sould do for a start <hr> No problem. Happy to oblige. Only I may include an Olde Fart or two as well... Any additions beyond that shall have to be dependent upon the price Joe P'Shaw can procure for me on the live ammo. Technical writers aren't rich, you know. And judging from the tenor of your posts, I anticipate a LONG list (which, in case you missed it, Herr Olde BurrLickerUpOnceGuy may well come to include one name you'd have opted to leave out). Joe, does Wal-Mart have blue-light specials? <hr> Originally posted by Joe Shaw: You MEANT all Australians, Berli ... they were both Commonwealth countries so the confusion, especially at your age, is understandable. Joe <hr> Indeed. Though personally I'm leaning toward including BOTH the Australians and the Canadians on the list of names "what will board the bus to the afterworld with Papa". Just name me three good reasons to exclude either nationality. Go on. I'm begging you. And by the way, Joe, I've returned the setup for that monstronsity you're calling a scenario. Papa

<hr> Originally posted by Berlichtingen: Glory be now, if we can just teach that trick to a few others <hr> Touche. Note, however, Herr BurrLickerGuy, that I did not say I was leaving this world alone. Papa

<hr> Originally posted by Joe Shaw: mass snippage of mindless drivel and general background noises Just a thought <hr> There you go, Joe P'Shaw. Congrats, I knew you could do it. Well, ok, I had a hunch that you HAD to have at least ONE in you. One semi-coherent one, anyway. Papa P.S. In the oddest way, Joe, I feel myself becoming strangely fond of you. P.S.S. I guess now I'll just have to kill myself. P.S.S.S. Hey Joe, what aisle do you keep the live ammo in?

<hr> Originally posted by dalem: Khann- You have enquired as to your role in life, and seek to better your understanding of your true place in the scheme of things. This is impressive and bodes well. However, you did question me in front of the other Pooligans. So for that, m'lad, you will spend your first night in House Persiflage in The Box. Oh heck, you were going to spend your first night in The Box anyway, but I wanted to make you feel as if you'd earned it. <hr> Number two, Sir!! No, I'm not saying what most of you deranged "Pooligans" think I'm saying. There is an association there, if you've watched enough movies. Sure, it's darned thin. Sure, it only makes sense to me. But who cares? <hr> Anyway. It is true that you are now a serf, but this is in addition to also being an SSN. I have no idea when you stop being an SSN - I think it's purely subjective. I won't set you with a true quest as such, we need to build you up slowly... Something easily done... Hm. Perhaps this R_leete person, who is naughty in my sight, should be challenged. Is he an SSN? Is he a pox? A poltroon? A doofus? Yes, yes, try that one. He gets to set the terms of the battle, and you both must provide gripping details of every mouse click and camera shake, here, in the MBT. <hr> Very well. To whit, R_Leete, consider yourself CHALLENGED to battle upon the fair fields of CM:BO. I would indulge myself and christen you an SSN, a pox, a poltroon, and a doofus, but to do so would be an insult to SSNs, poxes, poltroons, and doofus' everywhere. Normally I'd put more energy into insulting you, but having seen only a single post of yours thus far, I lack sufficient data regarding your (imagined) strengths and weaknesses to do the job right. Therefore, on with the game! I prefer: - Axis, but play Allies too. - Small to medium sized battles. The rodents that run on the wheel that powers my computer tend to tire during larger engagements. Plus, I'm a lazy cuss, and this way I won't have to scroll around a huge map quite so much in an effort to discern which rocks you and your troops will be hiding under. - Computer generated forces, so as to allow the loser (that would be you) the ready made excuse that the AI provided you with such a selection of unusable trash that your defeat and humiliation at my hands had nothing to do with your inept generalship. (Plus, it gets away from the standard "gun hoard/uber tank/gawd-awful-huge arty" stuff that tends to occur when gamey bastiches purchase their own troops. But what do you care, you're probably a gamey bastich yourself.) - Timed TCP/IP, but can do it the PBEM way too. If it's to be TCP/IP, 3 or 5 minute turns are best, with the timer suspended during deployment and 1st turn. Now normally I don't ask for timer suspension during the first turn, but in your case I'm willing to make an exception, to give you adequate time to sniff and pick at your various digits, cavities, and orifices before we begin play. I don't want you distracted. I want you to try to pay attention while I drive a tank back and forth over your naked, crumpled, whining little body. Papa

<hr> Originally posted by Boo_Radley: No, but for some reason, chaps with no pants is all the rage there. (Shudder) <hr> I have it on good account that this is only due to the heat. Papa

Originally posted by dalem: -------------------------------------------------- SIR PONDSCUM! We need some unappealing tasks for the SSN. Have the giraffes been incontinent of late? And have no fear, Khann. We have a strict "no tights" dress code here in House Persiflage. -------------------------------------------------- Sir Knight, might I direct your attention to Article {34} of the rules laid out at the top of this post (which is already hurtling toward "black hole" status at a meteoric pace). Said Article, Sir, implies that by taking me in as your serf, for which I shall of course be forever indebted to you (for good or ill, I'm not yet sure which), I am no longer an SSN. Is this not correct? And if it is correct; which I believe it is, because I can read, despite the fact that Joe P'Shaw wrote Article {34} or at least transcribed it; then I am not entitled to challenge Serfs from other great houses? And if that is indeed the case, am I not also allowed to challenge Squires? (Personally I have found Article {34} to be somewhat vague on this point.) So with all that (ahem) clarification behind us, Sir, would not this be an appropriate time for you to name the SSNs, Serfs, Squires, and other assorted personages associated with other Houses which have caused your, and therefore my, honor the most egregious of insults in the past, so that I may proceed to lean over the battlements and taunt them? And more importantly, are any of them Australians? Anyway that has got to be better than cleaning up after the giraffes. Papa

Originally posted by dalem: -------------------------------------------------- So Serfdom it is for Khan Noonian Singh. Serfdom in the service of House Persiflage, with a possible extra quarter in it if'n you make it shine real bright! -------------------------------------------------- I shall procure your house many great victories upon the soil of CM:BO, oh munificent one. But still no tights. Papa P.S. Now that I'm officially in his service, how do I get dalem a capital D?