stevetherat

I can't believe this is still going! And even some of the ol' faithfulls are still here! Blimey!

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: [o/t] At my second effort at being banned, I'd like to say to St. Rat that while I still think of Tony Blair as a Grinning Hyena, thank God Almighty for those who consider themselves British and that aid us in the defense of Western Civ.[/o/t]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> It's a pleasure, sir. Though, our efforts are rather constrained to pointing laser pens at buildings, flashing the occupants in the eyes and drawing lovely patterns, etc and refueling your aircraft with premium grade of the hoof. Time is approaching that we both must rise from the trenches and march on. Good luck y'all.

Updates (though do nudge me awake when my chin begins to drag on the floor) By the numbers; Alpine Pergatory is boring me to tears with a predictable defence policy of having rank upon rank of dug-in elite guns. However, in his drunken stuper I fear he may have made a mistake in placing them. I am approaching them from behind. Margo and I have so very nearly finished. I believe that he has seen the final tally and has impounded the last file until I commit some verbal outrage, like "Hard luck son, you played well." In reality I would say something like "You fool! I could have played better than that using 5 Afghan rebels and an RPG." Sherlock's nemesis Moriarty has just this second scored his first kill. A Stuart. While I, on the other hand, have a veritable hoard of assorted grey scraps painted on my boys bedposts. Slop Drippin' and I are going to have an orgasmic time finding each other in this fog fest. It's early days but this just may save my chin from grinding into bonemeal. Wildman is checking tyre pressures of insignificant light aircraft somewhere in the world and is unavailable for whoopass. I missed his new email address, so if any of you bods out there have it could you kindly pas it on. Cheers. £5

Karch, are these in Aberdeen, Scotland, UK or somewhere in the USA? If they're over here in Britain I've got a train to catch! Taxi!

Karch, are these in Aberdeen, Scotland, UK or somewhere in the USA? If they're over here in Britain I've got a train to catch! Taxi!

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Slapdragon: ...my original number was in the 1600s...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Again with the knob jokes! Look here SlopDrippin', sweet charity is knocking on my door. Hell, I even donated to 'that' cause. Well, when I say 'I' donated, you have to understand that I have a girlfriend with a heart which fills her entire body cavity and thought it would be nice if she used my credit card to pledge a few quid. So, yes, I did donate simply by the fact that the cash came from my bank account. But I'm straying from the point. I have read your posts on the outside and, at times, you have touched me. Eeeww. NO! Let me get this straight, just so there is no misunderstanding, you haven't literally touched me, as I'm sure you can attest to, just that I found myself in sympathy and alignment with you on the topics you have raised. Did I make that clear? OK, let's get back on track. I am offering myself... No, no, no. This is getting nowehere. I would like to play with... ****! It would be a pleasure to... GOD DAMMIT! BASTARD! Send me a feckin' setup you PANSY! StR

Looking forward to it Manx. StR

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Roborat: (psst, hey you squires, come here...I would like to point that I am not exactly overloaded with games right now...)[ 09-23-2001: Message edited by: Roborat ]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Hey mecharodent, being another lifer squire and another Rat, how about getting down to a 'War of the Rats'? I don't mind what conditions you impose just as long as that bitch Berli doesn't have anything to do with it (playing one of his right now against Wildman. Arsehole!) StR

Oh dear, not a good week for you Shaunachai! Never mind, time to call your anoraked, grubby fingered, sweaty buddies for some moral support. StR

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by von shrad: ...Do you Brits enjoy a good American classic such as Airplane or Animal House? von shrad<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Seinfled and Larry Sanders are the best thing to have come out of your country, Mr Shrad. On a par, just, with Blackadder. StR

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Seanachai: ...Now, that aside, my apologies to my many opponents, sadly and disgracefully abandoned these last few days. I was (very) unexpectedly called out of town for a day or so, and returned with the most hellish fever and lung-rot. I was sweating, palsied, coughing, cursing God and Berli and trying to cut deals with all the spirits in between to return me to health... et cetera, et cetera, et cetera. [ 09-20-2001: Message edited by: Seanachai ]<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I think that I know who you are Such.a.nice.guy, or your 'sort' anyway. You and your comrade in arms (I mean arm in arm, not side by side) Pong have both on numerous occassions been 'layed up' as it were, on your sick beds at the slightest whiff of a germ. When I was in school, there was always a small group of sickly spods that stayed as far away from PE as is physically possible. Note in hand, they crawled and limped dragged themselves to the teacher and, when given the nod, sat their spindly bodies down on a convenient bench and dealt out their Top Trumps. This is you, Sir. And one more thing. Henchmen are the best, you nerd! Minions are only in it for the food, cash and maybe the odd maiden still warm after a vicious pillage. They fight for themselves - selfish to the core, while providing an aura of commitment. Take away the binding threat and they're off to the hills. Henchmen, on the other hand, are loyal and decent, ready to come to your aid and stand by your side, come hell or high water. They ask for nothing but association and give all that they have. Trump that geek! StR

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Marlow: Where is my turn Ratboy?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I know the feeling. The years creep up on you like a rolling fog bank on a deserted moor and, eventually, you lose your sight. CHECK YOUR MAIL YOU FREAKIN BAT! StR

I know the reason why. The slob can currently be found swanning around in the American Bashing thread answering stupid questions put forward by, well, erm, me... And a few other detractors. Bloody slacker! StR

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Agua Perdido: Besides, I also need an excuse to avoid sending stevetherat turns. Not that our game is going badly, he's just a bastard and I hate him. I think I'll start sending him files from my game with Croda. Agua Perdido<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> What do you mean you'll start doing that? You already have, you conker. Probably while your Golden Lab was entertaining you under the table. And what, pray tell, is MY esteemed name doing being mentioned in the same post as that pant stain Croda? [shiver] StR

Holy fecking Moses! I go on hols for a week and look what's happened. First, some drug dealer gets shot down our street, blocking it off and making it quite difficult to get to the airport in time. Then, having got there on time, being subjected to a two hour delay and once we do get to our hotel, finding a bloody building site underneath our bloody window! That pales in comparisson, of course, to events in America. Sympathies to you. StR

Hey PANSY, I see you're advertising for playmates but you still have something going on with me! Send the file Twinky! StR (And it's your round)

Updates (though, why I bother I can't say for sure) In alphabetical order, then... Being the second incarnation of a once failed attempt (due to several techincal hitches and the fact that he is an ARSE) Agua Perdido is defending with aplomb. That is, if you consider being swept up and routed with grannies something to consider sitting nephew Johnny on your knee and recounting hours of testimonials about how you skillfully avoided being shot at by RUNNING SCARED. Iskander is another kettle of fish entirely. No, I don't mean his wicker basket is full of my scalps, but that he has some sense of shame. Partly due to the fact that he has rushed my positions with all but the immobile and hides this 'tactic' under the guise of superior commandership. Marlow has somehow managed to sneak up to my last Stuart and plug the exhaust pipe with a potato. No sooner had I given an order to go sniff out his pansy arsed slackers hiding in the undergrowth to the rear, the engine and all of its technicalia came spurting out of the bonnet crushing several of my troops in the process. What's more, the potato broke the sound barrier right next to my most senior commander and has subsequently rendered him babbling like a baby. Moriarty, in a game to the death, has so far done nothing but offer up his juiciest elements to my most potent guns, much like an over ripe baboon offers herself to the leader of the gang. Where ever I look, there it is. No one can blame me for that, surely. I half expect the perpetual LOSER that Wildman is to surrender his revolver to me every time I open his file. That is, WHEN I get a file. I have visions of him, head in hands, sobbing uncontrollably muttering his whinges about this and that to all that will lend an ear (I understand you, Lorak, to hold all the aces in that department. Please go and offer one of those splendid orrifaces to him, will you? Oh, and take a book. A BIG book.) OK, that's my contractual obligation done with for this thread. I may have more news when any or all of the above come to their senses and surrender. StR PS I also have a couple of battles on pause with AWOL members of this tribe. That bum bandit (and my Lord) PansyNZer and the New Yawkor Chinchilla. Please advise Elfen One. [Edited because... well, who cares?] [ 09-03-2001: Message edited by: stevetherat ]

Stika, nice to hear you have an interest in something approaching 'normal' bikes now. Welcome to the third dimension. I mean, those stupid damn speedway bikes were much like those Nascar toys I se on TV now and again. Just round and round, flat, two dimensional racing. Wake me up when it's finished. You may as well play on Playstation! But this dirtbike thing is entirely different. It has that all important third dimension. Up and down. Anyway, those of you who may be waiting on me will be rewarded tonight. After a bitter struggle for my attention, my girlfriend has lost the first round. It was a tough fight. StR

One of my best lines EVER had passed into padlocked obscurity! Yes, the one about Main Boarders reeling back like salted snails. What a picture! Due to the shear number of agrivated complaints (make that, erm... TWO) Kassander's thread was chained up faster than a 'pound man can lash up rabid strays. Soft celled pansies. Updates are pretty uniform, in that my opponents must be snorting Agent Orange through straws and their utter incomptence shines through like the bright morning sun breaks through the curtains of the dark claustraphobic bedrooms of these nerd herds, spod squads and geek cliques. Other than that, sympathies where they are due. StR

Personally, I don't think that's a bad idea. They're lured in, defenses down, ready to reveal their emotions and then WHACK! They reel back and shrivel like a salted snail. What the FECK is that musi... erm... sound? Oh yes, it's jazz. You bastard. I wasted two minutes of my life downloading that. StR

I have a tendancy, however uncomfortable, to agree with Slack Jaw Shaw in his sentiment about SSNs. Only yesterday I presented the swill drinking swines with a superb opportunity to prove their (very unlikely) worth. Not a bite. Not a single bite. Conclusion: Ban them. It's harsh, but only fair. Before they even lay claim to the heady title of SSN they should prove their creative capabilities in a simple test. And not an obvious one either. As they make their presence known, one of the squires should lay down an opportunity, or bait, for them to latch on to. Having been successful, they are permitted to carry the mantle that is SSN. Feedback required please. StR

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: I: I think that was the sound of a thoroughly nice chap renewing a challenge...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> You betcha, ya damn Yankee, tabbacca chewin', bog hoppin' aligator food. This time it's too the death. No more squeezed out draws by jumping the flags while I'm putting the kettle on for a victory brew. Holy Jesus, even SSNs show more cavalier spirit. And they're desperate! Make a will, buster, you're leaving. StR And where's my credit on the sig? Sheesh! You don't stop at nicking my flannelette flags from behind my back, now it's the utter creativity from my soul. My God, boy, you sure do take every inch! (SSNs, you may notice above that I have provided an excellent opportunity for you to outshine your rivals. Study the last paragraph in detail and post your witty replies here. The winner will have the honour of an education in battlecraft from your truly.)

I have been wronged. A great and rightuous victory has been snatched from my rightful and honourable bosom by the very lowest of thieves. Iskander! I uncloak thee for the world to cast stones upon. All was as it should be - my great and stout Arian champions bodly standing their ground against the hoards of capitalist pigs, chewing gum and playing jazz. Then, just before this battle was declared, he rushes my flags like rabid pidgeons around an old haggard woman bringing out her mouldy bread. I cannot believe this scoundrel managed to squeeze out a DRAW! (are you paying attention Lorak?) Barsteward! StR

When do the big boys come out to play? These kids are as annoying as wasps around a picnik.

Oh what fun! There I was, preparing for an onslaught when, in fact, I'm rubbing my hands with glee to such an extent I have removed completely the whole of my palm print! Well, I am back, but catching up (as I like to call it) with life-on-line (sure beats that overrated and thoroughly stressful real-life business) after the Hiroshima-like catastrophe inside my computer not so long ago. The phlegma-based life forms that I am opposing are, in fact, giving me the most restful sleep in years. I have been prone to sleepless nights during the past couple of years and nothing, not chemical or herbal drugs, not even a violent blow to the head with a 14lb sledgehammer, will set me off on sheep counting duties. The fact is, when I have finished chuckling away to myself (and at them) I feel so completely rested that yawning sets in and if I don't run to the bedroom immediately I'm out for the count heaped over the keyboard. I would like to send a heartfelt 'thank you' to those creatures of the deep. And it would not be a proper roll call without mentioning names: Aqua Perido Iskander Marlow Moriarty Wildman (I may have missed one. Please remind me if it is you) However, there are some fellows that have, and still are, causing quite a bit of head scratching. Even worse, these particular blokes are within reach, so to speak. Chupacabra and PeterNZer are both having the type of reaction on my troops as a quart of anthrax would have on a gerbil. Not pleasant, no, not at all. Next time we meet up I will stealthily conceal a large club about my person. Anyway, that's enough work time used up. Back to the drudgery. Have fun folks! StR