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Leeo

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Posts posted by Leeo

  1. I used to play Combat Mission. I used to weigh less. I used to drink less. I used to...

    Appleolololologies to Boo and Nidan1.

    I used to post more. I used to exercise more. I used to... more.

    Maybe I'll again. Maybe I'ldn't.

    Feck. Its Friday, Sunny outside, and I'm going to have cocktails this afternoon with a very good friend. Hell, if you lot were here, I'd buy you a drink as well. However, it's a pretty damn safe promise, what?

    I may just ramble further. Or, perhaps, I'll insert more commas before quietly slipping into a coma.

    Carry on. (You frikken wayward sons(not meaning to exclude the wayward daughters)).

    And. I'm. Spent.

  2. Hell, I gots an extra bedroom with Joe's name on it. I also happens to bee steeped in poison oak and yellow-jacket pheromones.

    Please come stay (for a very limited while) with us. Pretty please?

    I promise to start taking your proclamations slightly less seriouserly.

    See how accomodating I (we, because my better-half would be drawn kicking-and-screaming into any unholy meeting) can be?

    So.

    I know I owe BRadley a turn, as well as Needing-one. Under normal circumstances I'd apple-ologize to each one, but really, that impinges on my schedule a wee bit.

    So.

    It Goes.

  3. I am recalcitrant, and full of remorse.

    I am multitudes, yet have difficulty producing a coherent turd.

    I am now, and as such have already passed.

    I am wallowing in loss, but can still bite.

    I am buying the gloss, and can't contemplate white.

    I am.

    And so soon, others who am, aren't.

    Sometimes aren't is attractive.

    Like glittering wings of abstraction,

    I rise

    and settle again into the wells of reduction.

    I glow, and once and awhile alight others.

    But mostly, I succumb to somnumbulent musings.

    And by so, abide.

  4. I had my car door freeze shut last night. Freezing rain. I couldn't get it open this morning on the driver's side, so I prised the passenger portal open and kicked the driver's side out to submission from the in side.

    Mostly sun, otherwise.

    In other news, Boo is cowardladiddle-dee-lyingly throwing smoke at my tiger on a hill.

    Really, aren't we all just tigers on our separate hills? Don't we all yearn for blastification upon our enemies-of-the-moment?

    Ah, 'tis glorius to be a 'merkin.

  5. Originally posted by PawBroon:

    I may miss Elvis but his wank-by have already occured higher up so I'm done...

    Don't you mean spent?

    I've whizzed many a lead shot in Elvi's general direction myself, though that was truly many moons ago.

    I've brutalized Berli (please don't tell him I said that) and sullied Seanachai, but I've yet to pounce upon (Go straight to hell you gaylord wannabes) said Peng. Thank God!

  6. I'm part Irish, and Damned proud of it. However, I'm also a bit lazy about sending turns. Is that the Irish in me, or is it me in my cups? Is it the liquor in me, or me in the liquor? Do lambs taste like sheep? Do leprachauns have leprosy?

    So many questions, so many Irish who don't give a feck.

    On another related, but somewhat discordant note, I had coned beef and soda bread for dinner last night, and tea and scones for breakfast this morning. I'd love to get blottoed in honor of this fine day, but the doctor thinks otherwise. In any event, it'll be reuben sandwiches for dinner tonight. And maybe a Guinness. Don't tell the Doc.

  7. I have discovered that Gout likes hard-licker better than beer; something to do with the yeast in beer creates more purines in the blood, which leads to sharper crystals in the joints. Really, it's too bad the lot of you weren't a bit sharper in the crystal department.

    Any-Who, I'm finding (again) that though I like beer berry, berry much, VODKA brings a better buzz, without that whole "Messy-and-red-swollen-joints(don't you just love the sixties?)-saturated-with-uric-acid downer. Really, other than the eventual demise of my liver, I'm quite happy without beer. Yes, that's it, I'm happier without beer. I'm happier without beer. I'm happier without beer.

    I've said it three times, so it must be true.

    I just wish I could stomp on Peng's toe, poke Berli in the eye, and put a hole in Seanachai's watercraft.

    I wouldn't ming shoving my thumb into Elvis's carotid artery, either.

    You know, once upon a time, around 8 years ago, I bought Elvis and Hiram a Stella Artois over the internets. I'd pay twice as much to have the bartender give them a wedgie.

    However, I digress.

  8. Originally posted by Seanachai:

    You're not being clever, you know, when you mock my liquor purchases. We all know that I would gleefully distill and drink alcohol from the bloodstream of someone like Leeo in a moment, and especially if I thought he'd been drinking anything good. Not to mention turning the unused fluids into a marinade for steak or pork.

    The uric acid crystals will make that the sweetest long-pork you've ever seen, Sweet-Gnomey-Cheeks.

    Then again, just freeze dry the dregs and snort some purines up your poofter.

    However, quality is quite sporadic, ranging from yer malt lickers to yer expensive to-kill-yas (though more likely mid range, and of course pure rubbing alcohol for the SSNs).

    So, Mr. Paddle Me Gnomish, I think were you to imbibe of my essential fluids, you'd find an aggravated, painful and swollen digit with which to vex away your snowbound hours.

    However, I'd gladly buy you some licker were you to knock on my door, and then there's very few people who wander through the local forest often enough to notice a little fressshhh terned earth, if-ya-know-what-I-mean (and I ain't talkin' averages).

    So, good naught to you, Sweet Prints, and may the day come that finds us together beneath the story tree, cursing an empty bottle and the swollen red pain crystals that make us laugh instead of cry.

    But on the other hand, I couldn't really be bothered.

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