Lars

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: Loser... er, Lars: stop making updates. They're lame, you're an idiot and we don't care.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> But, but, updates are the best part. Otherwise, I have have to read the tripe you post. Iskander, in my spare time I teach gun safety. I take a puppy and shoot him at point-blank range to show children the seriousness of firearms. I like to think of you as that puppy. Gamey, Jumbo buying basturd. [ 06-28-2001: Message edited by: Lars ]

Try the West Point Military History Series. I bought the three volume boxed set long ago. One volume on Europe. One volume on the Pacific. One volume is the Atlas (excellent maps). A separate volume of maps make following the battles much easier.

Game Updates: Iskander The beer goggle game continues. My besotted armored car driver decided to moon Iskander’s AT team and received a zook enema for his troubles. Not a good idea. Apparently he never heard of the “Arrive Alive” ad campaign. Designated drivers now being sought. Mouse Has decided not to attack through the obvious route because it was, well, obvious. Obviously, the obvious can escape him (obviously). Seems his field mice prefer to attack across open ground instead. Not a good idea. Most field mice can withstand impacts of up to .30 cal, but there's no way to be sure without extensive testing. Testing now in progress.

Why? The first bullet is usually the one that does the job.

Been hunting with a K-98. Stamped 1943 with swastika. Nice rifle, heavy as hell though. Wouldn't want to carry one across Russia.

It's always fun watching a new guy find this game. Enjoy, and say goodbye to your social life.

Go with "World at War" for a broad overview. Then you can narrow it down to the theaters, battles and weapons that interest you.

You beat me to it Claymore. Keep in mind these buildings weren’t built to modern codes. Modern buildings are built as light and as cheap as possible, not to last forever. The Church and Large Stone building in CM probably represent a building that’s been around for a few hundred years. They were over-engineered for their purpose due to the material being used and would be very tough to bring down. The frequency of fire should be boosted greatly in all of the buildings due to type of insulation, roofing materials, and heating fuel sources that may be near. These buildings would combust long before they collapsed. However, I love it when they blow up.

Careful, she’s trying to outflank your heart. Next thing you know, you’ll be married and she’ll win all the games.

Would you rather have a “great” web site and a crap game?

Game Updates: Iskander Prefers rye whiskey (a very respectable second choice, no doubt took British kit). Has sent 600 pt. ME setup (or is that a set-up? who cares, set ‘em up again). Playing game with modified view one rule (i.e. one hand over the eye). We are stumbling about in the dark. Very appropriate for these regulations. Mouse Drinks gin (the lonely girl’s friend). Has finally rounded up his chittering Habi-Trail assault teams. The Bourbon-soaked lads have spotted vermin on the move, aerial spraying to begin real soon now. Now I must go find the aspirin, suffering from major dain bramage (have fun with that you twits). Edited because guess why. [ 06-26-2001: Message edited by: Lars ]

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: We shall play by Iskander-Lawyer Rules: neither party is to make any moves without at least three (3) drinks in them.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> It wasn’t meant as a challenge, but: As long as this is clearly understood to be the lower limit. I refuse to limit my consumption or even accept the thought of one on the top end. Now I must stagger down to the Muni to find another couple of bottles. Till this evening then.

Iskander, if you care to put your rye-soaked troops up against mine, send a setup. We’ll see who cares about returning files the least. Whoops, I just poured another, I win already.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Iskander: Maker's Mark. W.L. Walker. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Maker’s Mark in a pinch if you can only afford the cheap stuff, but how can you beat handmade, straight from the barrel, uncut, unfiltered?

Gin, feh. God’s gift to mankind is Bourbon. Is there anything better than a bottle of Bookers? I think not. If you can’t handle it straight, Bourbon Manhattans will put a nice glow on your day in a hurry.

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by lcm1947: OK here's something to think about. If you zero your rifle in at say 100 yards ( meaning it's dead on at that range ) then the bullet will drop 2.3 inches at 200 and 6.4 at 300 yards. Now that's the 30-06, 180 grain bullet.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Standard hunting sight-in for a .30-06 with 180 grain is for a point blank of 293 yards. 0 in. at 21yds. +4 in. at 140 yds. 0 in. at 250 yds. (what you zero the sight for) -4 in. at 286 yds. -20.8 in. at 400 yds. -47 in. at 500 yds. This allows for hitting a 8 in. Vital Zone with no sighting adjustment. 10 mph wind drift numbers are 0.9 in. at 100 yds. 3.7 in. at 200 yds. 8.8 in. at 300 yds. 16.5 in. at 400 yds. 27 in. at 500 yds. Anything beyond 300 yds. I just go get the .225

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Panzer Leader: As a great philosopher once said (can you name him?) "I am what I am and that's all what I am."<HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Popeye was a philosopher?

I didn't say they were useless, I said they were fragile. Positioned where the attackers HE can't get at them, they can be quite useful. That's a nasty trick by the way, I'll remember that one. A flamethrower will do the same thing for less points though.

There are always multiple routes to the flags but usually a open space in front of them that the attacker must cross. It is a risk to buy a bunker since you might get a map that is unsuited for it, but it’s actually less of a risk than for any other large gun. What you are buying with a bunker is a large gun that is damn near impossible to suppress and protected. Placed in a good location, one bunker can completely stall an Allied attack. If the Allies bring some arty to smoke or destroy it, all the better. That’s arty that’s not falling on your infantry. The attacker will run out of arty eventually and that bunker will still be there. Compare the cost, it is a trade a defender will take anyday. If you can get a tank or two with the bunker, that’s the icing on the cake. Here’s a tip for you, site the bunker so it also covers the flags. Now it can influence the end game and must be dealt with. In addition, do not site it so that it covers everything. LOS works both ways. Place it behind something, a building, hill or trees. A bunker that pops up in a unsuspected location can really give an attacker fits. For real fun, buy two, and interlace the fields of fire. If the attacker cannot neutralize them and the bunker covers where he must go, he’s screwed. What you are playing for on defense is time. Time wasted can never be regained. Anything that throws the attacker off balance is to your advantage. There is always somewhere you can put a bunker to good use. If bunkers were totally worthless, nobody would build the things at all. [ 06-22-2001: Message edited by: Lars ]

Game Update: Have applied Kitty’s hamster face mod to set the mood. Have placed “The Nutcracker Suite” in the CD player with “The Battle of the Rat King” set on infinite loop to increase the effect. Have placed large quantities of small bits of poisoned cheese in all forward areas. Have in my GAMEY, CHEATING BASTARD way positioned all troops wherever the computer originally placed them. Have passed out bourbon and cigars to all troops. Moral is high. Have 10 to 15 turns to wait while Mouse tries to convince his littermates to follow him out of the Habi-Trail. Went fishing.

Stevetherat, Get pre-approved. Get a fixed rate. Buy the house you can SELL, not the house you WANT (unless retiring). I have been a landlord for many years (as such, my soul will most likely end up belonging to Berli) and have seen all the property woes there are. Now I must go and reset the timer on the coin-op dryer from 15 minutes to 10. Need the quarters for the weekend poker game.

Claymore said: <BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>As for neutralization of the ATG well.... First choice: avoid those avenues covered by the ATG with your armour and ignore it. Eventually you'll probably get close enough with your infantry to suppress/kill it. If the defender has something with a little infantry killing ability, like a Pak40, then you'll probably want to proceed to step two. Second Choice: Ok...its not a Puppchen or Pack 38 and it's taking the starch out of your infantry as well as your armour. Time to kill it. Avoid the easy answer of applying liberal amounts of artillery to the problem. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE> Wouldn’t masking the firing arc of the ATG with the cheapest smoke available, rushing your attacking force through its covered zone while masked, and then leaving it behind alive but useless work just as well? Essentially what you would do to a bunker. What are your thoughts on the heavier fortifications? I have found the MG bunker too fragile, a Sherman will usually take it out quickly once found. A MG in a building or woods is cheaper and can be relocated. The 88mm bunker is overkill, and although it can certainly ruin an attackers day, I would rather take a Tiger and have a mobile pillbox instead. The 75mm bunker seems to be the best all around choice. If buying a 75mm bunker, I buy a few of the 50mm ATG and spread them out at a oblique angle but covering the same field of fire as the bunker. Site the bunker on a area the attacking armor must pass through on the way to the flags. When the attacking armor comes into the kill sack, the Tac AI will concentrate on the bunker and ignore the ATGs. This gives the ATGs multiple side shots and keeps them alive and unsupressed longer. What you really want to do as a defender is put your opponent on the horns of a dilemma. Give him two choices, both equally bad. [ 06-22-2001: Message edited by: Lars ]

Lars wanders through downtown Minneapolis to find his favorite homebrew store, needing to make more ambrosia of the gods to get him through his day. Looking down, he spots something moving in the gutter. He reaches down, brushes aside a few scraps of garbage, and sees that it is a Mouse. A Mouse wearing a brown streaked Carmen Miranda outfit, lipstick, fishnet stockings, stiletto heels, and a very dazed expression. "Well, look what we have here. Looks like you had a hard night, little fella. Can't leave you roaming the streets. The city rats might find you and lead you down the wrong path. Prostitution no doubt, and the last thing this city needs is you breeding." Lars grabs the Mouse by the tail and drops the Mouse in an empty can of B-Brite. Continuing on his way, he passes a pet store. "Here we go, little fella, they will surely be able to find you a nice home." Lars enters shop, which is staffed by a little old man of Oriental extraction. "Shopkeeper, I found this in the street. Could you do me a favor and take him off my hands?" The old man looks down into the can and recoils in horror. Mouse is struggling to get out of the fishnet stockings. "We no buy, We no buy." The old man tips the can out in an aquarium containing a boa constrictor. The snake perks up, glides forward, flicks its tongue to catch its prey’s scent and immediately goes into writhing convulsions. The old man grabs the Mouse, puts him back in the can, thrusts it into Lars' hands, and tosses them both out of the shop. "You go now, You bad man, You very bad man." Lars picks himself up and dusts off his sleeves. "How rude. I didn't want money. I just wanted a good home for this poor thing. There must be something your good for, little fella. Now let me think what can we do with you. You must not be the pet type, but what could be your place. Hmm… that’s it! Perfect, and you'll be doing a service to all mankind." Lars sets off at a rapid pace, crosses the Mississippi, and enters the University of Minnesota campus. Enters the tunnels and arrives at the bottom level of the Medical Center. He spies a sign that says "Research Center" and heads that way. There is a door with a frosted glass window. On the window is stenciled "Cancer Laboratory - Authorized Personnel ONLY". Lars ignores the sign and breezes on in. A bearded Professor in a lab coat is picking white mice up one at a time and giving them injections. "Excuse me, Professor, but I found this wandering the streets and thought it perhaps might be of some use to you." The Professor turns around, startled. "Eh, who are you? How did you get in here?" Lars sets the can on the counter, next to the white mice. They begin to redouble their efforts to escape, except for the injected ones, which just lay twitching. "It's a Mouse, Professor. I thought that maybe you could use another one. You know, for research." The Professor looks into the can, his eyes widening in shock. Mouse, now hopelessly entangled, has the fishnet stockings wrapped around his neck and is gasping for air. "Where did you get this? I can’t use this, it is already diseased! What ever this Mouse has, it appears terminal. Take it to Pathology, maybe those boys can dissect it and figure out what it has contracted. Now get it out of here before it infects the rest." The Professor grabs Lars and the can, shoves them out the door, and slams it shut, causing a web of cracks to appear in the glass. Lars glares back at the door. “Gosh darn, I do hate pointy headed intellectuals. I guess you’re just not outfitted for a life of academe, little fella. Worse yet, you are keeping me from brewing my beer. I need to get rid of you fast. There is only one thing to do.” Lars walks back to his truck, slightly downcast, but determined. He knows what needs to be done. “I’m going to take you out to my buddy Sven’s and let you go, little fella. You’ll have a good life in the country.” Lars gets into his rusty pickup, slams it into gear and speeds off down Highway 12, double clutching all the way. He pulls into a dilapidated farmstead with a sign out front reading “Sven & Lena’s Mink Farm”. “Hey Sven, how’s it going.” Sven is sitting on the front porch, chewing snoose and cleaning a scattergun. “Hey Lars, how ya been, watcha got in dat der can?” Sven peeks into the can and blanches. Mouse is turning blue, his beady eyes are bulging and he is trying to chew through the fishnets. “Uff Da, Lars, ya been reading dem funny magazines again?” Lars blushes and drags a toe across the ground. “No, Sven, I found him in town and thought I would let him go out here.” Sven frowns, spits a stream of snoose, and puts down the scattergun. “Lars, if ya let dat der ting go here, da field mice will yust have der way wid it, don’t ya know. Ya best loose dat ting fer da Missus sees it.” Lars looks down, chagrined. “What do I do, Sven? I’ve been all over town trying to get rid of it.” Sven smiles, grabs the can and spits a stream of snoose into it, adding more brown streaks to Mouse. “Dat’s a easy one, Lars. I need da feed.” Sven walks over to an outbuilding and unlatches the door. Inside is row after row of cages filled with hungry mink. Mouse quits chewing on the fishnets and begins to squeek in terror. Sven pitches Mouse out of the can, into the center of the room, and relocks the door. “Thanks Sven, I knew you could help!” Sven laughs and spits in the can again. “Dat dere were no trouble, Lars. Next time ya come out, bring some of dat der beer of yours." Lars strolls back to his truck, a spring in his step, a glint in his eye and whistling “An American in Paris”. All is right in the world and soon, very soon, there will be more beer...

Mouse, I see you have done the wrong thing, and accepted. I do not care who else you are playing. I do not care if your wife is mad at you. I do not care if you have no friends. I do not want to be your friend. Moreover, and here is the important thing, nobody else does either. From the large number of people not sending you turns, I can see why you are having trouble keeping up. Rest assured that I will return your files promptly, if only so I can laugh at your tactical ineptitude. I intend to stuff you in a toilet paper tube labeled “Party Favor”, tape the ends shut, and leave you with the afterdinner mints at the Gay 90’s. The setup will be in your mailbox this evening. P.S. You should go do the reading your kaniggit suggested. He is trying to teach you to write with verve, feeling, and wit. None of which was evident in your post. Try putting your mind into motion before putting your mouth into gear. We will work on your spelling abilities later.

THE SCENE: A schoolyard playground. The children are laughing and playing. In the corner of the yard, out of sight of the teachers, the school bully approaches the teacher’s pet. Well, Training Panties, or should I say Mouse, I see you have received yet another rebuke from your esteemed Kaniggit. Pokes Mouse in the chest. You are already on your second Kaniggit. I doubt you will get a third when he gives up on you. Pokes Mouse in the chest again. Berli might take you, but only as a damned soul. You’re well on your way. Pushes Mouse HARD. Some of the children begin to gather round. Nobody here likes you. Nobody here wants to be like you. Nobody wants to listen to you. Trips Mouse up. The rest of the children arrive, shouting “Fight, Fight”. Have you noticed nobody has told me to sod off yet? That’s because I’m picking on you. Jumps on top of Mouse, grabs a handful of sand. They are all waiting to see if you actually have a pair. Stuffs sand in Mouse’s pie hole, grabs more. To even suggest that I (or anyone) would be your boy, in any way, shape or form, shows how pathetic you really are. Stuffs second handful up Mouse’s running nose, grabs more. You came here for all the wrong reasons. You will leave for all the right ones. Stuffs third handful in Mouse’s wax-filled ears, grabs more. You have been challenged. Let me spell it out for you again. Grinds fourth handful into Mouse’s nearsighted eyes, breaking his geek glasses, grabs more. Me, Allies, defender. Pours fifth handful down front of Mouse’s diaper, grabs more. You, Axis, Assault, soon to be more of a loser than you already are. Pours sixth handful down back of Mouse’s now soiled diaper, grabs more. 1000 point QB, village, medium hills, medium trees. Packs seventh handful on top of first handful in Mouse’s mouth, notices sand is running low. Random time, random weather, unlimited force selection. Seizes Mouse’s nose, begins to whip his head violently back and forth. Are you beginning to understand now? Mouse’s nose starts to bleed profusely, spraying blood mixed with sand everywhere, and he begins to cry. Do the wrong thing and send a setup. Or do the right thing, and go away. The children disperse, sickened by Mouse’s complete lack of anything resembling a pair. Now, quit blubbering, and go and change your armor.