stevetherat

Horahhh! The bessed Mr Fixit Bloke has revived my Mac and it's coming home tomorrow! There shall be a tickertape parade along Princess Road if any of you are in the vacinity. You're all welcome. There's a weenie roast too at sunset. BYO booze. That especially goes to you Iksy, as I know you could happily drain the contents of whatever Glen(insert appropriate name here) vat in a single sitting. Immediately after these ceremonious delights I shall set about returning the files I owe (from which many surrenders will return to me, no doubt). It has cost a shade under £300 to get my data recovered and install a brand new 20GB fast HD. A price I shall recover from my retailer, I hope. I still have no offers of representation for this procedure, in spite of the proliferation of legal types frequenting this squagmire of a hole. No loss though, two-a-penny these days. Right, I'm off to hoover the guest bedroom and wash the sheets to prepare for my long lost purple friend. See you, weenie in hand, tomorrow! StR

(Ahem) An update, of sorts, if you will. My computer is still broken. I am forced into writing all of my e-corespondents on the machines of my clients. All a bit dodgy, as you can imagine. You filthy lot being well down the list, this is the latest (but very old) news from the front. Dodgy retailers are the third worst type of being on this planet. I have been trying for weeks to get them to accept responsibility for my blanched HD. Do they? Do they not! Do any of you know what it's like to be un-connected? Hellish. I have no alternative but to issue procedings in a court of law. It's going to get as uncomfortable for them as accidentally thrusting down on a cucumber in the bath. Which brings me to my second statement: Lawyers are the second most vile creatures to walk this precious Earth. I have instructed my leagal team (a bargain at £9.99 per quarter) to issue proceedings against my retailer. I, being the eager beaver who has been wronged, is all fired up ready for battle in the wood panelled battle zone. They, you ask? Well, THEY are quite content to sit there, spending my £9.99 per quarter on the best Scottish single malt while sitting on the extensive balcony overlooking the Thames. Doing SQUAT. Lawyer is now a new swearword in our house (being a light curse previously). In an unrelated, but similarly suited profession, Estate Agents are so bloody disgusting they don't even qualify for membership of the food chain. What motivates these people? I mean, what exactly drives them to crawl out of bed? And what service do they provide that you could't competently do yourself? I cannot go on. My head has just shot off like some Etna molt. I shall resume redecorating your screens with your littered bodies as soon as I can get those fatherless lawyers to do a decent days work. Meanwhile, I have a strange feeling that Panzy, Germaline and Cupasoup have been trying to get hold of me. Leave a message here so I know you're out there and I'll give you my Hotmail addy. Now go, while I can still control my trembling rage. StR

Now listen here, bog hogs. I'm not in the habit of wasting my time scripting one of the most marvelous pieces of prose to cross these pages in years for it to simply go unanswered. Ignored, even. I, of course, am referring to the text below: "That does it. Not only have I been gazzumped by a pair of freckled ginger spods, but my bloody hard disk has now terminally errored. My opponents, if they have the gall to call themselves such, will have to wait while I sue my retailer for a new one. They have the gall to express the opinion that failing to supply me with a product that is fit for its intended purpose is my own problem. Obviously, consumer law is not a forte of theirs, as seems to be selling worthless iMacs to punters that don't know better. While I relish the thought of getting back into the swing of things with the reptilian-insect crossbreeds that I am sparring with, and taking those slimey pile 'em high retailers to the highest court in the land, I am not so content at dealing with... (bless me father for I have sinned) ...Lawyers. I mean, come on, they're hardly carbon-based animals in here (JR Morose springs to mind immediately). God only knows what they're like out there. My 'opponents' (being as loose a term as possible) if my memory serves me correctly are: Aqua Perido Iskander Marlow Moriarty PeterNZer Wildman (if he's still here. If not, chalk up a magnificent win for me Lorak. I have the files to prove it. Well, hopefully I do, if I can recover my data) Have I forgotten anyone? You're probably not worth remembering anyway. Summing up, then, just hold up a while. And maybe I'll see you in court some time? StR" Now, you may think I am some sort of leper, or that bloke on one episode of a sci-fi series (can't remember the name) where he wears a red blob or something, for committing a crime and is 'ignored' by society at large. However, I am considered in these parts a highly commendable part of the community and this silence treatment just won't do. Not at all. Fix or do somefink. You have been warned. StR

He's behind you!

That does it. Not only have I been gazzumped by a pair of freckled ginger spods, but my bloody hard disk has now terminally errored. My opponents, if they have the gall to call themselves such, will have to wait while I sue my retailer for a new one. They have the gall to express the opinion that failing to supply me with a product that is fit for its intended purpose is my own problem. Obviously, consumer law is not a forte of theirs, as seems to be selling worthless iMacs to punters that don't know better. While I relish the thought of getting back into the swing of things with the reptilian-insect crossbreeds that I am sparring with, and taking those slimey pile 'em high retailers to the highest court in the land, I am not so content at dealing with... (bless me father for I have sinned) ...Lawyers. I mean, come on, they're hardly carbon-based animals in here (JR Morose springs to mind immediately). God only knows what they're like out there. My 'opponents' (being as loose as possible) are, if my memory serves me correctly are: Aqua Perido Iskander Marlow Moriarty Wildman (if he's still here. If not, chalk up a magnificent win for me Lorak. I have the files to prove it. Well, hopefully I do, if I can recover my data) Have I forgotten anyone? You're probably not worth remembering anyway. Summing up, then, just hold up a while. And maybe I'll see you in court some time? StR

Greetings dwellers of the deep I have no doubt that you all have missed my presence enormously and, not to disappoint, I have returned for the merest moment to update you all on the house purchase phase of my development. Sadly, we were outbid. We put in a low offer for, although the house itself was cavernous, the garden was the size of a paving slab. We discussed and discussed this issue, burning many a candle and finally decided to run with it. Who the hell likes gardening anyway? Well, just as we decided this, the estate agent (realtor?) called and told us of a counter offer! Excitement at last. The chase was on... They had put in an offer £5k above ours, so we raised to £7k and they, the bastards, rose to £10k! This was more than we could take. There was quiet disappointment between us. None of us spoke for several minutes. Then, in unison; "Ah bollocks. The garden was **** anyway." We fell out of the race contented that we had driven the pice up by nearly 10%. That'll teach the buggers that play with us! Similarly, my opponents in CM are facing a similar conundrum. Take Ibskonder. After building his five battalions up for a massive assault on my firmly held objectives, the plan was halted by a single platoon. In the history of warfare there has never been a result so fantastic, so against the odds, so embarrassing for the foe. My position is littered with Yankee corpes, rotting and bloating in the most beautiful of European landscapes. This time, however, I'm not pulling out. Whatever the cost. StR

...and another thing, some personages appear to be MIA. Please present yourselves. Wildwoman are you still playing games with full-sized models? Send me a file you big kid. Eloped Moke I have heard NOTHING from you since April. Wake up boy, I'm winning. PansyNZer you queen, get back here from your mid-morning TV world and send me a freekin file. For God's sake. StR

Many of you; let me just count these up... Oh, I see, well, none of you may be wondering where (and even what) I am. Allow me to allay your fears and cure your sleepless nights. My girlfriend and I are in the middle of that milestone (or is it millstone?) of buying a house. It's our first and we're taking it very gently. Thus my contributions to this wasteland, having been always short, sharp and shiny, will now be rare, rough and rude. We would like to offer ourselves as sounding boards for any property woes that may have troubled you, particularly in the finding and purchase areas. While smoothing out your furrowed brows it will, as a byproduct, transfer information to us that may help us in our search. Your humble perpetual squire, StR (per-bloody-petual because bastards that have joined AFTER me have been touched by the sword! Bastards.)

Hello folks I'm making this official here, although most of you will have already recieved an e-mail from me explaining. My girlfriend and I are buying our first house. It's a three bed townhouse with an extended kitchen, just what we've been hoping for - and we weren't even looking very hard! Obviously we pounced on it like tigers (the furry ones!) are going through the legal procedures, etc. This is going to take up a lot of time so, regretfully, I have to pull out. I hope you all have a lot of fun and may the best man win. Good luck to you all and thanks for your encouraging replies. Mike, old chum, sorry about any extra work I have made for you but this is an opportunity I can't miss out on. I hope you understand. Good luck all! StR

Correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't MissSphincter in it also? I belive the 'Pool is very well represented!

Ermm. I'm already in that particular compo. As, I believe, is Wildman. Who's stepping up to join the fray?

I hope I'm putting this in the right place. I'll steam ahead regardless. Chaps! I have a minor, but still annoying, problem with my e-mail thingy. I have recieved many challenges from the hoard of baboons in the Tourney II but I am unable to respond. So, here, I respond to your gurgling squeeks in one go: "What? You beat me? That makes me laugh more that 1001 tickly fingers wringling about my belly. Give up now. If you have a face (which is VERY unlikely) you better save it now." In other words, I will respond to all your e-mails as soon as I can kick Outlook back into gear. StR

Pansies.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Moriarty: Using Herr Berlichtingen's "Tank Country" battle map, we square off at opposite ends. No troops of higher quality than regular, no vehicles valued at more than 100 points. Either I can cobble this abomination together, or I'll have a third party do us the honors. What say you?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> While I and Wildman are already dancing on one of Berli's abortions, I am willing to try another (if only to see if even ONE of his maps has ANY sense at all). What say me? I say bring it on. By yours or any other claw-like hand, bring it on. StR

OK, the temptation's too much. I'm in. Having played you before Tree, I know you're a fair bloke. I look forward to it. Come on! Who want's a piece?

Gordon, that was absolutely beautiful! Well done on organising the thing and I look forward to playing again. StR

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Moriarty: ...faux victories ...too scared ...cowardly ...quivering ...kowtow ...send me a setup.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Well, well, well. I do believe buried somewhere in there a challenge was initiated. And by London's arch enemy himself. For the first time in your life you may feel accepted. Unfortunately, not by society at large no, never, but by me. And only your challenge, not you as a 'person' (I'm using that term looser than a diarrhetics rear end). For even the most charitable Christian bleeding hearts would turn from you. I'm feeling rather charitable myself actually, and will offer you your only freebie. I'm going to visit the country this weekend and so will not be able to send a setup before Monday. This is my gift of aid: I will give you the whole weekend to ponder, plan and propogate the most scheming setup your tiny mind can put together and, when I return from my sojourne, I will set about hunting you down like the vermin you are. You may start now. OK Moriarty, consider my Dearstalker donned, my magnifying glass offered up and my pipe smoking. You're going to be Sherlocked. StR

Ahh, wise words have been spoken here. Myself, I feel almost invigourated, like that slight tingle you feel when you take 16 paracetamol with diet coke. It's good to know that lurking behind the curtains there are the 'old school' keen to give a reassuring shove in the back to get you past a rough patch. Or, as I look on them, gentle old folk that line up outside schools and lead the small children to their vans to see some puppies. Even though 'they' have barely a word spoken in my direction, I take succor in the thought that there, omnipresence-like, they wait to place cussions before my fall. I hold a particular warmth for a once sparring partner (of words) jd. And Peng did once say that I was "coming along" or words of similar condescension. Oh bollocks. Who am I trying to kid? Barely I word I submit is read by anyone here, and if it is, by boredom or lack only. Do I care? Absolutely not. It is my only vent to twisted connections inside that pulpy mass wrapped by my hair (though it is much shorter now and I am feeling the chill). Of course, I still get the rush when I'm quoted or responded to but, as a siding to the mainline of CM, it serves its purpose. I'm tired (no, really, it's 12:45am) and I must paint my girlfriend's toe nails. It's pennance for daring to raise my voice against her. See how stupid I am?

Yes, Panty Wetter, you have a point in living life to the full but, my point is deeper. It's all about respect and courage, which our 'yoof' is missing. Anyone today can go out and buy a gun to shoot our neighbour's head off, rape his daughter and steal his car. But who among us has the courage to lend him your mower or help paint his eaves? Not many, I can assure you.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Elvis: no takers?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> I would have loved to taken you up on the offer, bearing in mind the heartfelt community speech I just made, but my honey and I are off to the country for the weekend. I will join you in spirit, however, and raise a toast to the good old days.

I do agree with my 'colleague' (even though he is German) in his thoughts. Sure, I am one of those dippers to which he refers and I make no dive for sympathy. I just want you to know, Munch, that I am right there by your side, holding your hand. Here in Mighty Blighty, we have seen the same thing happen to our rural villages. Once communities, they are now mere shells of their former beauty. The local pubs have been replaced by theme bars filled to the brim with barely teens and thugs. Friendly shops that know exactly what you want have been overwhelmed by the giant out of town supermarkets that stock their shelves with generic, genetic gluten stodge. And the people themselves have been priced out of their own homes by the city slickers who crave the idyll of a country cottage for weekends. It's what they call progress in democracy, old boy, and there's nowt we can do about it except take ourselves off to a second or third world country and start again. Tearfully and reminicently yours, StR

And, Munch, why didn't you fix it for me to get into the second round of your twisted compo? TRAITOR!

Pansies

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: ... I'll give you some scones with clotted cream (down [bi]St. Rat[/bi]!).<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Ahhhhh, the cream, the cream, you mentioned the cream! Now I'm going to face the rest of the day wondering - no drooling - over an imaginative jammed up scone with lashings of clotted cream. You BASTARD! I will send you the bill for cleaning the sodden t-shirt I'm wearing. I'll have to make do with a milky cup of tea until I can get to a supermarket. SEE WHAT YOU'VE DONE! You've made me go fricking SHOPPING! You DOUBLE BASTARD! Changing the subj, my hunny and I are off to the sunny climes of the Midlands. Coventry to be precise. That's the original Coventry, not the hick village you have in yankland. We're off to see HER rellies and chums. While I will no doubt idle away the time twiddling fingers and expelling air from every orifice, she will be contented spewing forth her constant verbal diarrhea into the small hours with her equally chatty girlfriends. Luckily, we're renting a car so, while she and her girly bosom buddies while away their lives 'catching up', I will explore the locale. The city centre is, well, concrete - grey, booooring and dull (after an inspired rebuilding programme brought about by one, Mr Hitler and his aeroplanes). However, I understand the surrounding countryside is a stunner. So, what I am trying to say, in my own twisted and irrelevant way, is that there will be no files from me this weekend. I know, those that have the privilege wait baited-breath for my files knowing that their education continues full apace. Patience students, patience. I wish to extend to you all and each of your families a miserable and rainy weekend. Just like mine is bound to be. StR

Hey Munch, did I get through to the second round? You haven't given me a score yet! Get your finger out and get to WORK you SLOB!