Lurkur
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Posts posted by Lurkur
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I suppose that it's theoretically possible for this to occur, but if you start playing people you will need to develop a somewhat perverse appreciation for entropy....start playing other folks, get that rush when somefink works you put together, ...In the beginning, your plans will come apart at the drop of a hat. Enemy assets will appear exactly where you don't want them to be at the worst possible time. And don't forget the giddy prospect of really, really bad luck. In a current game I had both members of a BIG Arty FO team killed with a single shot by an oblivious tank using area fire on the building they were in.
So in the beginning frustration will be your prime mover. Then you will have the little wins, like knocking out an opponents übertank. Those little successes will keep you going until you develop your tactical sense. Victory will be that much sweeter when it comes.
Enjoy!
Lurk
[ August 23, 2002, 10:19 AM: Message edited by: Lurkur ]
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[Pours boiling oil on both Terence and Buzzsaw]
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Yes, but what grass mod will the demo be using?
wOOt!!!
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Uh... Treeburst,
Now that Roxy is really gone you may want to change out of that dress...
Lurk
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Hey Persephone, How's this?
My Uncle Walter goes Waltzing with Bears,
It's a most unbearable state of affairs,
Every saturday night he creeps down the back stairs,
Sneaks out of the house and goes Waltzing with Bears.
Chorus: He goes Wa-wa wa-wa-wa Waltzing with Bears.
Raggy bears, baggy bears, shaggy bears too.
There's nothing on Earth Uncle Walter won't do
So he can go waltzing, wa-wa-wa waltzing
So he can go waltzing, go waltzing with bears.
I went to his room in the middle of the night,
Tiptoed inside and turned on the light.
But to my dismay he was nowhere in sight,
My Uncle Walter goes waltzing at night.
I bought Uncle Walter a new coat to wear,
But when he comes home it's all covered with hair,
And lately I've noticed there are several new tears,
I'm afraid Uncle Walter's goes Waltzing with Bears.
We told Uncle Walter that he should be good,
And do all the things we say that he should,
But we know he'd rather be off in the woods,
We're afraid we will lose him, we'll lose him for good.
We begged and we pleaded, "Oh, please won't you stay?"
And managed to keep him home for the day,
But the bears all barged in and they took him away,
And he's dancing with pandas and we don't understand it,
But the bears all demand at least one waltz a day.
Waltzing with Bears
Attributed to: Dr. Seuss, Eugene Poddany, and Dale Marxen
I'm sure Great Fred would approve
Lurk
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Ouch! I bet that left a mark.I lost a 6 tigers to a single regular 37mm AT gun.......... -
But of course, only it will be a red camouflaged pointy hat.Persephone asked: Will he have a red pointy hat?Lurk
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I too, would like to thank Roxy (spelt correctly but not bolded 'cause I have no idea what proper protocol is anymore) for showing up. She was clever, could push back, and was willing to take on Grogdom in honorable combat. Also, there is a weird and yet satisfying sense of irony that our already effeminate poolboys (not that there's anything wrong with that) were gushing over a guy the whole time. he hehehe HA! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!
On the other hand, that whole cabana imagery was getting out of hand. Had it continued, we would have ended up with a bunch of slack-jawed, badly dressed outerboarders hanging out by the pool drinking their little froo-froo drinks and taking home stupid souvenirs for their kids saying, "My Dad went to the Cesspool and all I got was this lousy T-shirt!" To this possibility I say, "NEVER!"
The Cesspool needs to remain a place of fear and amaze, where those who wander in carelessly are never heard from again. A dark place, warmed only by the dying flames of the guttering torches. A place where iron sharpens iron, or the wet sewage rusts it out completely.
So, in honor of Roxy's brief visit and partially to get that now corrupted pool-boy imagery out of my head, I submit as proper homage to the lady in waiting, the comic book version of herself. Based on the few clues (and by clues in mean lies) dropped about clothing, Stiletto heels, skin-tight leather, blonde (or Red-head). Roxy, I always imagined you as the Emma Peel ala The Avengers type.
Enjoy.
Lurk
Look for the upcoming "Combat Gnome" in the near future.
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Ya know, when I read Croda's original post on this, a dread, cold tingle ran up my back. I would just like to say: NNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!Sir Boo_Radley exclaimed, with sweat on his brow:Here, I've got a deal for you. How's about we get my squire, Lurker-the-Laidback to do the CrodaburgTM Dance with him and you and I can have a go at something else? Yeah, that's the ticket!
I've heard about that one! Jabos still has me waking in the middle of the night!
fit of uncontrollable shivering
What I meant to say...[looks at the door for a moment, loses all hope and continues]...if it pleases mi'lord, have that bloody, bloated hemorrhoid on a Mandrill's butt known as Buzzslob send me the feckin' set up. He shall know the wrath of the Nefarious Legions! Or at least their mild irritation.
Lurk
leaves muttering
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Hiram
Your sister, you, and your family are in my prayers.
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I read something like that on a fortune cookie once, except the english was better.
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Nice work my liege! (Note the absence of brown-nose prompts) I've been moved to bless the rubber-stamp tool out loud more than once.
Lurk
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Oh, and one more thing. In my Gamey-as-You-Wanna-Be match with Sir Harv, I just witnessed one of his Super Pershings put a shell through the front of my King Tiger at a range exceeding 1000m!
I was ready for a "gun damaged" hit or perhaps a lucky flank shot, but it felt immoral and unnatural to see a King Tiger go down like a paltry Pzkw IV, the gamey bastige!
On the other hand, he tried to run a Jumbo Sherman down the barrel of my JagdTiger, hehehe...
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Speaking of alterations, I know we have at least three Photoshop users. What was your favorite RealLife™ Photoshop job?
I had one where I was doing some photos for a churches centennial celebration. They had this great shot of a warm and friendly priest among the laity that they were just aching to use. One problem: it wasn't their priest. It was some visiting clergy guy.
The solution: Take some photos of the real priest and stick his head on the other guy's body (good thing they all dress alike).
Best of all, I actually got to tell the designer on the project to "bring me the head of the priest."
Lurk
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Holy Moly!
Turn your back for a few days and get buried by the posts!
Let me belatedly congratulate Athkatla on the successful conclusion of his shameless, whorish campaign to make squire. In honor of the event our family has started referring to the vomit-soaked hairballs our cat occasionally leaves us as "athkatlas."
I would also like to belatedly welcome Roxy to the 'Pool. Nice to have some more of that feminine rapier-wit amongst all the blunt instruments that loiter about here.
Updates!
Sir Harv and I are playing some "Gamey as You Wanna Be" slugfest on a map the approximate size of Montana. Too early to tell. Doubtless the heat of central Kentucky has melted his thinking bits to mush, so it may be a while before I get a turn. Take your time, you sun-stroked Saskatewtwit!
Simone and I are playing with a heavy dose of splodey things. I got to watch my veteran Stuart tank top over a hill to take on a Lynx, spot and identify a PANTHER at 700m+ and engage in a standing duel against the big cat! There were two survivors, whom I will shoot myself to ensure that they don't breed.
Every time I read one of Shaw's posts I hear Sousa music in the background.
Lurk
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flippin "back" button...
[ July 19, 2002, 03:07 PM: Message edited by: Lurkur ]
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Afflictka,
You dense, obtuse , brick-headed maggot. Subtlety must not be a strongpoint of yours. I realize your style is "straight over the top and at 'em boys", but occasionally it pays to use a flanking maneuver, even in taunting. The point was to cast aspersions on Harv's status you insipid dolt! Now while you are waiting for your would-be donkey master to return your affections, why don't you continue doing that thing you're doing with your own excrement and hair down-wind over there?
Oh, and a *BOOT* for just for being you!
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Sir Boo,
Don't get me wrong. I'm not completely falling all over myself with "Oh, I am not worthy" and such. I just don't want it to be another "pity knighting" like Harv got.
Lurk
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Flippin' double post...
[ July 19, 2002, 10:01 AM: Message edited by: Lurkur ]
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I actually have to agree with Berli here. I am still rather new and finding my voice. I thank my liege for putting my name before the Olde Ones, and likewise thank Seanachi for the recommendation. But I think one must maintain high (and by high I mean low) standards, and only the "worthy" should attain Kaniggethood.Berli harumphed:Absolutely NOT!
I would rather remain a squire in good standing than to have a suspect Kaniggethood, and worse, open the door to the possibility of the even riff-raffier lackwits that have been appearing here of late to attain any semblance of legitimacy.
Lurk
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Sorry, Got one already. (No offence, Berli!)Seanachi wrote:Will he accept Great Fred as his personal saviour?
However, Fred is welcome to my mortal frame once I am done with it.
Mr. Gomez the Chicken at least seems to have grasped the concept of challenging an individual. How I live for the moment of recognition. When you see the light of comprehension dawning in the eyes of a lower life form it really is a special moment. Evolution in the making, as it were.
I have to believe his comment about his er, "emu eggs", because they're obviously putting severe pressure on his brains (Which must be located just aft of the afore-mentioned "eggs").
It's a pity that he has no willy to go with the set.
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Mr. Gonads-a-roasting,
You no doubt are in for a royal lambasting when this side of the globe wakes up. Being relatively new here myself, I am almost sympathetic to your puzzlement of knowing how to step in. If you are serious about waiting until someone presents themselves to you, then you are in for a wait of Kafka-esque proportions. Think man! If we cared one fig who was the best player here, we'd belong to a real ladder group thingie. This is a different kind of place that requires you to think differently.
Read the rules for entrance into the MBT. There you'll find valuable clues (and perhaps some coupons) as to how people are expected behave in here. Read them carefully, out loud if it helps, and then come back. You see, from our perspective within these dark, brackish grottos, you don't exist. At this point you are nothing more than the buzz of an insect. We have no reason to take an interest in you, no reason to believe you are worth the time for a response, (well, perhaps a few pokes with a pointy stick and some verbal abuse), let alone commit to a month-long PBEM game. So show us what you're made of. And maybe have someone hold your arms behind you while some hairy, tattooed guy named Otto slugs you in the stomach repeatedly. It will be good preparation for what is surely to follow. Truth is, I will likely catch it for being so nice to such a pristine example of SSN-ness. So you have been warned. Expect multiple hearty "Sod Offs" to come your way soon.
Don't know where the rules of the pool are? Let me help you get there. Look that way and if you lean over you can just make them out on page one. That's right...
*BOOT*
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I have completed 3 battles against Sir Harv (Pah!) and lost all three. Well, four actually if you count Jabos!
brrrrr, Jabos!
I defeated Noba with my green troops as part of my quest.
Also as part of my quest, my Greenies defeated me, and Simon took credit.
Finally, I was utterly defeated in my attempt to write Mormon Justice. Not actually a battle, but it had all the humiliation and scorn of one.
[ July 17, 2002, 03:44 PM: Message edited by: Lurkur ]
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[A disheveled figure covered in grime and straw staggers in.]
Did you call milord? I would apologize for my tardiness except that it would be seen as a sign of weakness and the jackals that prowl here would rush in. Suffice it to say that I have been tag-teamed by my RealLife™ opponents: Too-Much-Work and the nefarious Home-Improvement-Chores laid on me by SHE WHO WILL NOT BE DELAYED. I had to take on crack tasks using only my green and conscript carpentry skills. I was victorious, but it was not pretty. Have you a task for me?
Alas, I must confirm Slime-on's victory over my South Dakotan pig-raised corn dogs. The Greenies just didn't have it in them to fight for more than 30 seconds at a time. How often I heard, "What? MORE Germans? That's it, I quit!" And moments later they would be gunned down while the Huns laughed like orcs. Oh, and here's a hint for all you kids out there from your uncle Lurkur. Unlike regular artillery, which tends to land in an area clustered around a specific point, Green artillery tends to land in the pattern of a doughnut, neatly falling all around the thing you are trying to hit! On top of this, my opponent was able to purchase some slings and arrows of outrageous fortune (By the way, where *does* one purchase that in CMBO? I kept looking under artillery but couldn't find it). My favorite moment was when my two 155 arty observers went from okay to dead in 2 seconds trying to cross a 20 m stretch of ground and coming under fire from a machine gun and a sniper from 400+ meters out. Unbefeckinbelievable. In short, my green troops were unworthy on my tactical brilliance. That horrid Mr. Illwind has agreed to a rematch, only this time I will be using real troops, and can manfully lose the match proper-like.
Slimon Elfin-you dreadful, bloated hemorrhoid. Your weaseling ways of warfare will not save you this time. Gird yourself for battle, for this time I shall play the role of the vicious, hobnail-jackbooted bosche, assisted by the comely überspy Nadia, and you shall be the tea-sipping, parade-ground prancing, "Don't bleed on me good uniform" Pommies. Prepare to have your spleen ripped from your bowels, watch it be fashioned into a bagpipe and be forced to dance at your own defeat!! I will be sending a setup! I'm thinking armoured meeting engagement, gaminess levels to be discussed.
Harv and I are playing a little match. He has artillery-I have none. He has tanks, I have none. My set up area is a thin line around the edge of the field of battle. In short, it is the tactical equivalent of "How Not to Be Seen," the part where there are three bushes. And he gloats about doing so well, the pustule. Speaking of Harv, make that Sir Harv, I am pleased as punch to see him de-elevated to the stature of Kannighit. I used to call him a gravy-sucking pig out of pure contempt. Now I call him a gravy-sucking pig with all the respect that is due his office. Pah!
Lurk
[ July 17, 2002, 12:50 PM: Message edited by: Lurkur ]
The All New Newbie Tournament: Fellowship of the Newbie
in Combat Mission: Beyond Overlord
Posted
What?! GWDWD is back!? I thought I killed him off. Next time I'll bring the wooden stakes AND the silver bullets...
Lurk