Lurkur

So how did the Cheerleader thing work out, Boo? Those young and nubile girls overly impressed that you work with Photoshop? Yeah, I get that all the time too. Some lovely young thing says, "Oh, you're an Illustrator? Let me sit on your lap while you tell me all about it!" And that doesn't take into account the many times I've been in public and some desperate soul shouts, "Is there an Illustrator or a Retoucher in the house?!" To manfully walk forward, all eyes on you, and capture the moment in a true yet aethstetically pleasing manner. The gratitude of the people, the "Well dones" and shouts of "Huzzah!"; those are the things that make all those years of doodling in class seem worth it. Yep, the Illustrator. The Art Grunt. The Draw Boy. It's a high and rewarding calling...

Why not? Seems like every time I'm the Allied player the Axis has so many Panthers they line up to get shots at my Shermans. You of all people should know that, maggot. [snip] GRARGHRARRGHRARRGH!!! :mad: :mad: :mad: </font>

I think you should go one step further. Not only does the loser stay out of this maggot-ridden brood pit, but they must endure their exile in the Cesspool! Let Kitty have some Panthers too. She'd like that.

I took some artistic license so the Mask of Shame No. 15...for Men would show up better. Besides, you know how touchy certain Olde Ones are on the whole issue of "size." <font size=2>No gnomes were killed or injured in the making of this image. Can't say the same for Mace.</font>

That's not effluvia, it's sheepskin, if that helps identify the otto-man..

This should be formalized into an event! Instead of Dwarf Tossing, we should have a semi-annual Cesspool Drop-Kick-a-Gnome-inna-Fork competitions. It would be worth it for the trophy alone.

We interrupt this gnome crisis report for a brief dip into the arts, followed by a pledge drive. As official portraitist of the MBT, I frequently struggle with the issue that most of you are so butt fugly (ladies excepted of course) that the paint keeps sliding off of the canvas in despair. Fortunately, fate has smiled, or at least smirked on us and reunited us with a fiery spirit from the west...or the east depending on where you live. Anyhoo, it was that spirit that captivated me, and in response, I now request that the Queen's permission to display the following portrait in the Hall of Notable Personages. We now return you to the gnome crisis. I believe they are attempting to talk or push him off of the bridge. Lurk

You haven't lost too many Shermans. In fact, if you lost all of them it would only be "just enough" dead Shermans. Losing too many Shermans means that they've been blasted into their sub-atomic particles and exist as a vapor in the atmosphere. Then I'd grant that you lost too many! Until then, keep pushing them into the ravenous maws of my Panthers and die! <font size = 5>DIE DIE DIE all of you ill-bred, moose-bound, under-stimulated, overly-hyphenated Canadian tank lemmings!</font> <font size = 1>Is that an airplane? Crap! Gotta go!</font> Lurk

Preserve grog!

Congratulations all. It's good to stop and savor these rare moments when the universe actually rewards one's hard work and genius. ... Okay, that's enough savoring, now get back to work! The next masterpiece isn't going to code itself, ya know!

Dave, If you have time to post you have time to throw more Shermans into the teeth of my Panthers! <font size=5> Bwuhawhahahahahaha!</font>

No. Next!

[sound of crickets chirping]

GGGAARRRRRRRGGGHHHHH! [pop] Sweet oblivion take me in your loving embrace....

[cue the orchestra]

Berli must be close, as we seem to be in The Devil's Triangle. Harrrrrr...Them's that die will be the lucky ones. My Queen, I have re-thought the whole Dalem/Jack disguise: you may be on to something. My Queen, have you any orders for me and my fleet of Viking longboats, or shall we wait for the rest of the fleet to arrive so we can properly stage the final battle at sea, complete with the wit-studded swordfight between Meeks and Berli? your obt. svt, Lurk

Once again the pool has lost focus. The Queen is not rescued yet! Or at the very least she's wearing really hot attire and we're not there to see it! Follow me! For the Queen, Death and Glory! [The wind blowing his hair back and his semi-buttoned shirt open, Lurkur manfully blows the Horn of Doom™. As he does so, the longships of the Nefarious Legions glide with lethal ease out of the fiord and head south.]

Har mateys! Perhaps the next volly should be buckets o' cess instead of cannon balls. We'll see what happens to that prancing Captain's freshly pressed lace then! Arrrrghggghhh!

While we're figuring out the cannons and all, a jolly sing song might do the trick—everybody join in now: CHORUS: Up, up, up your premium. Up, up, up your premium. PIRATE: [singing] Scribble away! CHORUS: Up, up, up your premium. PIRATE: [singing] And balance the books. CHORUS: Up, up, up your premium. PIRATE: [singing] Scribble away! CHORUS: Up, up, up your premium. PIRATE: [singing] But manage the books. CHORUS: Up, up, up. PIRATES: [singing] It's fun to charter an accountant And sail the wide accountancy, To find, explore the funds offshore And skirt the shoals of bankruptcy! It can be manly in insurance. We'll up your premium semi-annually. It's all tax deductible. We're fairly incorruptible, We're sailing on the wide accountancy! PIRATE: [singing] Sail away! CHORUS: [singing] Up, up, up...

A weary horse trudges up to the entrance of the Brood. A knight, weary and slumped, is in the saddle. Behind him a shapeless form is draped over the rump of the horse. His armour is dented, with a few nasty gashes here and there. he moves stiffly in the saddle, as though he is in great pain. At the gaping, smelly mouth of darkness he stops. He turns with great effort and nudges the bundle behind him, and it slides off of the horse with a loud thud and a soft grunt. "Ho there, maggotty waffle eaters! I have bested your Dave H in mortal combat. He lies here dead at my hand. T'was but a minor victory, and he fought and died well, which is to say, horribly and in vast quantities. Even better, I got some really nasty-looking dents in me armour." "Actually I'm not really dead" a voice from the bundle pipes in. "Oh shut up! You're practically dead. Don't go saying that you're not!" "I've had worse." "You were bested in fair combat!" "Fair combat!??!? You had flippin' tanks, flamethrowers and demo charges against my partisans and you barely squeak out a win? Eww we're all really impressed!" "Shut up. Shut up! Shut up or I shall have to kill you again." "As if you could..." "Roight then! Back to the battle with you, laddie!" The knight turns the horse around, the cheeky bundle being dragged by a rope. At a dip in the road the knight loses his balance and falls out of the saddle, his right foot still in the stirrup. He moves to get up, but is too wounded to do more than flop limply back onto the road. The horse continues on, dragging the two inert forms along with it, the clop clop clop of it's hooves punctuated by the occasional "ouch" and "shut up!" "No you shut up!"

Merry Christmas, Kitty! [Tosses catnip wrapped with a bright ribbon towards feline female, and then backs away carefully, behind Shaw, avoiding sudden movements]

Gamey Update! The forces of all that is right and true, the Nefarious Legions of House Morse-Croda, have triumphed in a Major Victory of Mssr. Boggs! His Shermans huddled together for safety, as they crept forward. My cunning plan placed a single Panzer to shoot and scoot at him until his men were all jittery! Then I cleverly crept the remaining panzers forward, into a bog! This mind-boggling tactic turned into a real boon-doogle for Boggs, as he drove headlong into the teeth of my panzers, and after a short and desperate firefight, I had two tanks left, and he had one immobilized can o' ready to make Instant and Horrible death-aroni! Boggs, with his plans bogged down, hoped to do unto me as I had just done unto him, and undo me as I drove to meet the last tank. Alas for poor bugger, that boggled Boggs! It was not to be, as his last tank burst into flame like a happy, screaming and writhing bonfire. Let the shrill denouncements and recriminations begin! Lurk

So I was catching up on some old reading and stumbled over this little nugget about CMBB (and I'm assuming CMAK)- "HE reduces the effectiveness of minefields." Has anyone had experience with this? Is it worthwhile to target minefields with HE or a waste of time and ammo? Lurk

Now this is just pathetic. Let it go Seanachi, Let it go. If you keep replaying it over and over it will only get in the way of you recognizing your true hater out there. Cabron69 was all wrong for you; too fickle, too easily impressed and distracted by "flashier" posters, like Emrys. There's a whole wide world of human debris out there, and I'm willing to bet that most would hate you if they could only get to know you. So just relax, be yourself. It will happen. It's Christmas soon, and you should be getting all forms of hatred disguised as Christmas cards soon, right? See? I hate you more than I did when I started writing this post!

Nope, can't see a thing.