rleete

The best defense of CM to the GF/wife is to have a more expensive, more time consuming and at least equally uninteresting hobby as backup. The more complaints registered about CM, the more time & money gets diverted to the alternative hobby. If drinking and/or long stretches of time away from home are involved, all the better. In comparison, CM appears to be a much more viable use of resources, and has the added benefit of at least being home. So, the next time she whines, get out the golf clubs, fishing tackle, R/C equipment, etc. You'll soon have all the time to play...er, experience CM that you want.

Well, it's about time! After that aborted attempt to palm me off on our dear departed king (the Meeks shall inherit the cess), I was beginning to think I'd have to make a career out of it. I do believe I still hold the record at longest running squire. Had you been kind enough to die from any of your spate of life threatening illnesses (do you have any idea how much it costs to buy those infected postcards?), I'd lay claim to permanent squire. I'll refresh your conviently failing memory. I plastered your British goons all over the landscape (with my oh-so-gamey Hummel) in our first game. Back in the days of CM:BO. Remember, now? *Boom*, house and squad vanish in cloud of blood and dust ring a bell? You only won the last one because I surrendered out of pity for you. I was hoping to earn some brownie points for that, but whoever said you were the nice one has never had to endure you as a squire. Care to be a little less vague? No one has a bladder big enough to cover even a third of the lackwits around here. I will, however, consume some asparagus in order to "perfume" some of the vilest among the crowd. Oh, and Boo? It was the fourth grade, you dolt. Just for that, I'm buying another Tiger in our next game.

Well, it's about time! After that aborted attempt to palm me off on our dear departed king (the Meeks shall inherit the cess), I was beginning to think I'd have to make a career out of it. I do believe I still hold the record at longest running squire. Had you been kind enough to die from any of your spate of life threatening illnesses (do you have any idea how much it costs to buy those infected postcards?), I'd lay claim to permanent squire. I'll refresh your conviently failing memory. I plastered your British goons all over the landscape (with my oh-so-gamey Hummel) in our first game. Back in the days of CM:BO. Remember, now? *Boom*, house and squad vanish in cloud of blood and dust ring a bell? You only won the last one because I surrendered out of pity for you. I was hoping to earn some brownie points for that, but whoever said you were the nice one has never had to endure you as a squire. Care to be a little less vague? No one has a bladder big enough to cover even a third of the lackwits around here. I will, however, consume some asparagus in order to "perfume" some of the vilest among the crowd. Oh, and Boo? It was the fourth grade, you dolt. Just for that, I'm buying another Tiger in our next game.

Okay, someone now explain what an "occilating turret" is. Does it constantly search between targets (never firing on either) like the Tigers in CM:BO? Really, I'd like to know what this means.

On the contrary. OGSF (aka Mouth full of Hagis and other nasty things) had already issued a proper challenge, several threads ago. I was not ready to take on another game at that time. I just sent him an email, letting him know that I was ready to rumble. This was just a formal declaration for the record. Have to keep things all neat and tidy for the Justicar, donchaknow. Well, not really, but it's best to humor the decrepit old folks. Speaking of which, anyone seen Seanachai around?

On the contrary. OGSF (aka Mouth full of Hagis and other nasty things) had already issued a proper challenge, several threads ago. I was not ready to take on another game at that time. I just sent him an email, letting him know that I was ready to rumble. This was just a formal declaration for the record. Have to keep things all neat and tidy for the Justicar, donchaknow. Well, not really, but it's best to humor the decrepit old folks. Speaking of which, anyone seen Seanachai around?

Soddball, did you ever get my email? Are you still getting blocked?

Just remember to bend at the knees if you're wearing that plaid skirt thingie. Wouldn't want to upset the neighbors. Girl's blouse? You mean all smooth and silky, clinging to every schoolgirl curve? Tucked into a delicate waistband...er...ahem. Oh, yes. Setup. Right away. {mutter} Gotta remember to close those other windows when reading the cess{/mutter}

Just remember to bend at the knees if you're wearing that plaid skirt thingie. Wouldn't want to upset the neighbors. Girl's blouse? You mean all smooth and silky, clinging to every schoolgirl curve? Tucked into a delicate waistband...er...ahem. Oh, yes. Setup. Right away. {mutter} Gotta remember to close those other windows when reading the cess{/mutter}

Ouch! That's going to leave a mark.

Ouch! That's going to leave a mark.

Who are you, again? Whatsamatta? Can't handle a good old fashioned personal attack straight to the heart? Maybe you do need that bottle more than the rest of us heathens. Or, maybe I just need to add those verbotten thingies (and be automatically disqualified) to show everyone that a rant is just a rant. This is supposed to be the place for it, right? [ April 13, 2003, 12:22 AM: Message edited by: R_Leete ]

Who are you, again? Whatsamatta? Can't handle a good old fashioned personal attack straight to the heart? Maybe you do need that bottle more than the rest of us heathens. Or, maybe I just need to add those verbotten thingies (and be automatically disqualified) to show everyone that a rant is just a rant. This is supposed to be the place for it, right? [ April 13, 2003, 12:22 AM: Message edited by: R_Leete ]

Wow, hasn't been a poll like this in quite a while. Lot's of old handles missing, though. I'm from Rochester (upstate), New York. Anyone else in the general area? If so, please contact me (addy in profile)

As I remember, The Ladies redecorated the kitchen. So, if in looting the fridge, you make a mess, there will be Hell to pay. Remember, a neat looter is a happy looter.

As I remember, The Ladies redecorated the kitchen. So, if in looting the fridge, you make a mess, there will be Hell to pay. Remember, a neat looter is a happy looter.

Sorry to see you guys go. Many a fine scenario was DL from there. I will always remember fondly playing the Byte Battles. All the best to all who made that site such a great one. We appreciate all the effort involved.

We tried the king gig, remember? Failed, like the puppet they installed in the post. I say we are now free of the dictates of the unholy trio. We no longer need pay homage to the three olde farts of days gone by. Let anarchy reign!

We tried the king gig, remember? Failed, like the puppet they installed in the post. I say we are now free of the dictates of the unholy trio. We no longer need pay homage to the three olde farts of days gone by. Let anarchy reign!

Haven't you dolts read the pronouncement? The Peng challenge is dead, and the MBT is a pale shadow of it's former self. Been on it's deathbed for months, refusing to die quietly. It no longer holds the same twisted charm for it's namesake. Waaa. Cry me a river. Start the dirge, and mourn the loss. Head on over the the general chaos forum. Just be sure to take your thick skins, because we all know that's the place where the neo-cons and the long-haired commie freaks constantly bash their heads against opposite side of the same impenetrable wall. All in the name of "rational discussion". Uh huh, sure. I assure you, the wall is still there, unmoved. If you do decide to post in one of the many threads there, be extra careful to lean as far as you can to one side or the other. Doesn't matter which, you'll find supporters and detractors on both sides. As well as a healthy sprinkling of trolls. If for some unfathonable reason you take the plunge and initiate your very own thread, plainly show your own personal bias, but couch it in terms that are ambiguous and vague. Backpeddling when called out on it is mandatory. Anyway, we're all supposed to dig deep and wrack our tiny brains to come up with the mother of all posts. All to entertain the mighty twit who's handle adorns our little clubhouse. Lookie, lookie, {ook, ook} I've been gone for months, and now I miss the old days and all the mental masturbation of having my name in the top thread, and everyone hanging on my every word. Oh, woe is me, I have to hurry up and whore myself out to some deluded ponces on an ego trip. And this for a shiny prize! Oh, goody; an overpriced bottle of cleaning fluid. You, too, can wrest rhymes from your underused and overtaxed synapses. String together words and phrases to move the hearts and minds (or possibly bowels) of the self-agrandizing fools who take it upon themselves to judge you. Well. Was that 500 words? I don't give a rat's ass. Count 'em yourself, if you have nothing better to do. Or, write an essay and show the world what a sorry, pathetic loser you are. All in the name of competition, of course. Prance and sing for the trio of Lords. All bow to the princes of garbage.

Haven't you dolts read the pronouncement? The Peng challenge is dead, and the MBT is a pale shadow of it's former self. Been on it's deathbed for months, refusing to die quietly. It no longer holds the same twisted charm for it's namesake. Waaa. Cry me a river. Start the dirge, and mourn the loss. Head on over the the general chaos forum. Just be sure to take your thick skins, because we all know that's the place where the neo-cons and the long-haired commie freaks constantly bash their heads against opposite side of the same impenetrable wall. All in the name of "rational discussion". Uh huh, sure. I assure you, the wall is still there, unmoved. If you do decide to post in one of the many threads there, be extra careful to lean as far as you can to one side or the other. Doesn't matter which, you'll find supporters and detractors on both sides. As well as a healthy sprinkling of trolls. If for some unfathonable reason you take the plunge and initiate your very own thread, plainly show your own personal bias, but couch it in terms that are ambiguous and vague. Backpeddling when called out on it is mandatory. Anyway, we're all supposed to dig deep and wrack our tiny brains to come up with the mother of all posts. All to entertain the mighty twit who's handle adorns our little clubhouse. Lookie, lookie, {ook, ook} I've been gone for months, and now I miss the old days and all the mental masturbation of having my name in the top thread, and everyone hanging on my every word. Oh, woe is me, I have to hurry up and whore myself out to some deluded ponces on an ego trip. And this for a shiny prize! Oh, goody; an overpriced bottle of cleaning fluid. You, too, can wrest rhymes from your underused and overtaxed synapses. String together words and phrases to move the hearts and minds (or possibly bowels) of the self-agrandizing fools who take it upon themselves to judge you. Well. Was that 500 words? I don't give a rat's ass. Count 'em yourself, if you have nothing better to do. Or, write an essay and show the world what a sorry, pathetic loser you are. All in the name of competition, of course. Prance and sing for the trio of Lords. All bow to the princes of garbage.

And would that be the dead anorexic one or the geeky piano playing one? Seanachai, get yourself a roto-rooter, and clear that problem right up. Intestinal blockage is nature's way of telling you that you haven't been drinking enough alcohol.

Why? Has OSGF (aka mouth full of marbles) stolen yours to make that dreadful hagis? Maybe you can get Lars to gut out a deer for one. Oh, right. He has to get one, first. {Edited to bold the infidels} [ April 09, 2003, 06:20 PM: Message edited by: R_Leete ]

Do you care to be a bit more specific? Your statement applies equally to any Kniggit.

Ah, yes. Back in the civilized world. Relatively speaking of course. Still a bit soggy in here, though. Ice storms suck. No electrical power for almost four whole days. Do any of you lower level primates realize what that means? No heat. No TV. No internet. No friggin' coffee maker!. Did I mention ice storms suck? Well they do. Big time suckage. Like what's-her-name in that film... Oh, nevermind. Ice storms suck, take my word for it. The nearest "convienience store" (read: legalized robbery for sub-par products) is ten minutes away, and I can't get my damn eyes open enough to drive that far with out some coffee. Screw the meals-on-wheels, what about us caffeine deprived junkies? Ask dalem about going cold turkey. Not that he ever has. I brave the elements, narrowly avoiding running down anyone stupidly walking in this weather. Hey, not my fault, the old truck just doesn't handle well enough to get the faster ones. Stop flapping your gums at the old duffer in the moth-eaten woolies (was that Joe Shaw I wonder?). I need my fix, now, lady. What the hell do you mean, decaf? It's no wonder you work in a pit of despair like this, asking someone at 8 AM if they want decaf. No, dammit, I need industrial strength, super size the drugs, stand your spoon up in it coffee. To add insult to withdrawal, No light, except for those foofy candles the wife is constantly frittering away my slave wages on. Gad, what a miserable choice: stumble around in the dark, or gag on the sickening stench of scented candles. Like day old corpses rotting on the battlefield. Sweet to the point of making you weap. When is someone going to make manly scent candles? You know, motor oil and gunpowder flavors. Maybe one with a hint of old tackle box, or golf club bag. There's a business model for one of you. Four days of that crap. Asked if I wanted friggin' decaf every damn day by the same snaggle-toothed harpy behind the counter. Dense as an outerboard ladder master, that one. At least the beer was kept cold by the sub-zero temeratures. Mostly in the living room. No power equals no heat, remember? Have I mentioned lately how much ice storms suck? You want your turns? Well, suffer. You'll get your turns when I've slaked my thirst for information and another hot, black java. Six months it's been snowing and sleeting and freezing. And now the latest little show my mother nature. She sucks, too. And in case I forgot, Ice Storms SUCK.