Lurkur

Unless my doom encompasses your armor... was that something Lenakonrad would post?...I can never tell anymore. Actually, I'm willing to let them be difficult kills, just as long as they all die. I await your onslaught, milady. Lurk

D'oh! Yes ma'am...

Gamey Update! MrSpkr (remember him?) and I called for a cease and desist fire in our Rune-inflicted dance of death called Fall Blau, which, as all you German-speaking folk know, means "Play with a really crappy set of worthless units over way too much space to cover until you turn blue and pass out." We decided that a ceasefire would be the most humane solution, short of poking Rune with a pointy stick. The game awarded me a Major victory, and my unworthy opponent a corporal punishment. Of course, there was nothing major about the game so even a crushing defeat would still be insignificant. Lady Moraine and I have engaged in mortal combat, with me dispatching her T-34s in a most unchivalrous manner. There has been a pause in the action, as well as the correspondence, so I await her next assault with glee and anticipation. We now return you to whatever meaningless activity fills your sorry lives. (ladies excepted, of course) Lurk

Be careful, I believe that is a capital offence on a boat-load of Australians. At the very least it narrows down the selection of "who gets eaten first when the food runs out." Oh, and belated congratulations on being demoted to Knight... Lurk

This Sir Lurkur reporting from a PBY Catalina somewhere over the South Pacific, we have spotted the Australian canoe and are dropping six packs... Several near misses... Ah, one has struck the aft. The helmsman is picking it up...drinking one..another Too early to see results... The canoe is starting to veer, going in no particular direction now circles...the rowers have stopped and seem to be singing vulgar songs... advise you send in heavier stuff armed with half and full kegs...over...

Can't we simply nuke them all? just askin'...

My guess is the hospital orderly with the next batch of meds.

My liege, Many thanks for your patronage and tutelage. My capacity to annoy, cajole, taunt, and coordinate my wardrobe (thanks for the spats) and harass has increased exponentially. I will do my best to maintain the impossibly high standards of House...er, did we ever land on that one? Morse/Croda/Whatever. Oh and by the way, it's spelled "Lurkur."

So, I was cleaning the stables at Chez Croda when Boo summoned me. "Lurkur my lad, do something useful, anything. Try your hand at one of those überbabe thingies that you do" So I wandered off to the attic studios (with the good light) and contemplated the times: The outerboards are full of neocons, defcons, and now we face the Rubicon. Militant idiocy rampages everywhere. And yet it barely creates a ripple in the 'pool. What the times call for is a pool-centric image for all right-thinking pooligans to rally around, an icon that all of us, regardless of where we come from or what we believe, can proudly thrust into the face of grogdom, whingers, and polito-baiters of all persuasions. Then inspiration struck. The room spun and went black. When I regained consciousness, my head hurt, my wallet was gone (inspiration was apparently low on cash), but I had my image:

A Modest Proposal The following is a public service announcement form the House of Croda. It has been my observation that SSNs (aka "Fluffies") frequently wander into the 'pool in small herds. Rarely are we able to give the individuals the treatment that they so richly deserve and often beg of us. Research studies completed at CrodaLabs* may bring us the solution. Allow me to demonstrate; I require a volunteer. You there, the SSN with the red shirt whose name we may or may not have heard. Yes you. Put on these goggles; safety first, you know. Okay, stand here. Ladies and gentlemen of the MBT, (may it ever prosper) I present to you a new, efficient means of testing the mettle of SSNs. I bring you: the chain saw! BWWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR!!!!! Simply apply the chainsaw to the abdomen of the SSN in a back and forth motion. Note how I angle the chainsaw away from myself, creating a lovely red stipple pattern on my lab coat. Unfortunately, there is no way to avoid getting one's hands bloody, but we assumed that most of you had blood on your hands long before you ended up here. This technique allows the operator to flense and gut a subject in under a minute. BRRRRAAAAAARRRRWWWWlublublub. Now, you all (with the likely exception of Berli) are probably asking yourselves "What's the advantage of doing this?" There are, in fact, many compelling and scientific advantages over the old method of letting the SSNs come in and post at will: It's more entertaining. Our studies found that the agonized screams of hapless SSNs were, on average 175% more entertaining than anything that they posted. It's friendly. "Sod off" has practically become a bureaucratic nicety. It has all the warmth of getting your driver's license updated. By caring enough to take the time to put a chainsaw into the thorax of a SSN, it guarantees that each one who comes in here gets some personal, "face-to-face time. It will be the experience of a lifetime. It's fair. Face it, the cesspool is an anglo-centric community. Many players of CMBB do not speak english, some are from Australia, many are unfamiliar with English and American pop culture and literature. Very few have Lenakonrad's gift of writing seppa-haiku. Using this new method, language is not a barrier to see what a person is "made of." It's fast. We can all remember the ones who "didn't get it" and wouldn't go away. Now we can resolve the matter quite quickly. It's painless. None of our chainsaw operators ever complained of fatigue or cramping.1 Some performed a couple dozen tests in a single day and were quite insistent about wanting to do more. It lets us use the word "flense" on a regular basis. It takes advantage of the excellent drainage facilities of the 'pool . Most important, it tests moral fiber. Afterwards we can see how the SSN responds. Do they simply fall apart, go to pieces? Do they sulk off somewhere to "stuff themselves?" Or have they the guts to pull themselves together? THAT's the SSN we are looking for! Our advice is to use this method whenever two or more SSNs show up in the 'pool at the same time. You'll be amazed at how much you'll look forward to the next SNN bumbling through the grate. 1 None of the subjects were available for interviewing after the tests were completed. *CrodaLabs-Going against the flow for a better Cesspool. Many, many SNNs were killed and maimed in the filming of this movie.

"Billy don't be a Penger Don't be a fool with your life. Billy don't be a Penger Come back and make me your wife. And as he started to go, She said, 'Billy don't sink so low. Billy don't be a Penger, Come back to me.'"

When it rains it pours. For example, my design firm is working on a Guide to Health care, and yesterday was the day to focus on "safe sex." We had an impending deadline and therefore the designer, a large hairy Greek guy, decided to work along side me as we designed the layout and illustrations for the spread. The people for whom we are doing the work sent a bunch of statistics, and therefore to sort through it, I was having dictated to me out loud all kind of unsafe things that people can do or have done to themselves. It is a surreal and profoundly uncomfortable experience to have the professional sanctity of one's workspace sullied by a peer editing out loud over and over a pithy way to describe stuff that people don't talk about with close friends. The kind of stuff that makes you want to jump out of your chair and shout to the air, "You people should be ashamed of yourselves!" I got to wade through a bunch of terms like "brachioproctal manipulation" and a host of stuff I won't even hint at. (Not that there's anything wrong with that, I just don't want to hear about it right before lunch, thankyouverymuch!) I had just finished applying the psychic disinfectant of that whole experience when I walked into the cesspool to see Mace tossing his clothes about and waving his naughty bits in everyone's general direction. Where's that hopper of angry scorpions where you need it? Oh wait, it's right here. [Lurker pulls rope and a shower of angry black scorpions drop onto Mace, clinging, pinching and stinging at will] Now if anyone needs me I'll be in the fetal position under my desk. Oh, and Lady Moraine, you owe me a set-up. I realize that most of your gender feel unfettered by the the notion of timeliness, but your liege did command a contest of arms, to be followed by the bathing suit and talent competition. I have no doubt that I shall utterly crush your pixeltruppen like old grapes, but you still might win the "Miss Anthrope" title. Lurk

Shades and I just finished a white knuckle match, where we came up with two, count 'em, two draws. He edged me in points 99-93, and so I congratulate him on two games well played and wish him well in the next round. I'll save the bitterness and recriminations for the AAR... Lurk

Okay, caught up with the threads after another massive dose of RealLife™ and discovered that I have a small part in this passion play. M'lord Boo, I would remind you that war is an art, and not simply an excuse to wear khaki. And likening anyone to the French is, under UN charter 183.b, grounds for sanctions, war, or at least having "Joanie loves Chachi" broadcast non-stop into the homes of the offenders. Need I say more? I will gladly meet Dame Moraine on the field of honorable combat. Not that this is an issue of her honor, or that I have any myself. Hmm, a taunt is in order, but nothing over the top. Regardless of the people with whom she associates, she remains a Lady of the Pool. "I wave my hand at you and your puny, silly girlish notions of total war. Hah! If you can keep your troops from playing "he loves me, he loves me not" with the daisy-chained mines then this may be worthwhile. Lowly squire I may be, yet still a member of the Nefarious Legions. We need no excuse to trample the lowly and weak. My House was spawned from a lawyer, established by a Croda, and is now run by Boo. You think you have anything that can make a dent in me after that?" Madam, you may send me a set-up, how 'bout something urban from 1945? Gotta love that Gotterdämmerung. Just a suggestion. Lurk

In fact, there are several Austrian Habsburg Archdukes still living. Not much power but they still have the floofy, hyphenated names. Perhaps you should invite a few to your coronation party. Lurk

Aussiejeff, You and your family will be in our thoughts and prayers. May all of you find yourselves touched by many small mercies in the midst of this dark, hard season. Lurk

To say nothing of his habit of flinging feces when he's mad! Actually, my family has always sung that version after the traditional one. On my daughter's fourth birthday we had the extended family together and sang that verse. She had always enjoyed singing it to other people, but for some reason it hit her what the words meant, and that all these people were singing it to her. She ran screaming up to her bedroom and slammed the door shut. The rest of us just stood there around the birthday cake in stunned silence looking at each other. Took me a half an hour to get her out. She developed a sense of humor shortly thereafter. Many happy returnns on the day, M'lord! Lurk [ February 12, 2003, 10:35 AM: Message edited by: Lurkur ]

I would like to add my heartiest congratulations to Nidan1 on reaching the lofty status of Kaniggut of the Cesspool. Normally, I would wellwish for greater achievements in the future, but I imagine "once a Knight" is about as good as it gets. Lurk

[The sounds of coconut halves being clapped together at a regular beat fades into the darkness]

Found in a discarded book in a chamber in Moria: Lost the last week of available time before Christmas to too much work. Discovered that we will be hosting family Christmas celebration. Awoke a dark evil hidden in the deeps as to how much extra work this was going to make for us. Holiday spirit died on the stairs defending against assault of rampant commercialism and sensory overload. Drums. Guests making plans. We're committed. We cannot escape. Setting up last defense around Christmas tree in living room. They are coming... .......... If I owe you a turn I will do my best to get it to you, but for a while they will be slower than Panzer Leader's wit, which in theory would require you to send turns to me, if you get my meaning. Simon: I have sent you the last turn twice in the last few weeks: are you as busy as I or should I resend? Happy Holiday of your choice, cretins! Lurk

Ecclesiastes 1:18 "For the greater my wisdom, the greater my grief. To increase knowledge only increases sorrow." Scripture and Berli seem to agree. Heading to the bomb shelter in the mountains with all due haste.

Perhaps you'd like to complain to Steve about the imbalanced point purchase system? Hehe, I didn't think so.

How ironic that you used that Keystone Kop analogy. I have an ambush of a dozen T-34s hiding behind a single telephone pole.

[Cue patriotic music] [No, the theme to the Three Stooges is NOT patriotic! Got anything by Sousa? Wagner? Beethoven? Well what DO you have?] [i refuse to make this announcement to Muskrat Love. No, not Billy, Don't be a Hero either. No, Loving You is completely innappropriate. The theme to Three's Company is right out. PUPPY LOVE?!!! Damn you, that's it!] [BLAMBLAMBLAM] [Cue patriotic crickets chirping] I am able to confirm that the forces of Chez Boo, under the able command of Squire Lurkur, have dealt that yarble-less whelp, Pansy Bleater a TOTAL DEFEAT (88-12)! I would like to say that it was my superior tactical skills that won the day, but all I really had to do was encounter my desteemed foe and he did the rest. Having been the first of my comrades to get to the Pee-El bunker, I was disgusted and bemused to find Panzer Leader's dead and burned body lying in the corner, the stench of dead flesh, garbage, and...pardon? He isn't dead? He's like that all the time? You must be joking. The Pantser did get away, as none of my henchmen seemed all that eager to lay hold of him. Good luck to my comrades in the Nefarious Legions! Success and TOTAL VICTORY is only a matter of time. Lurk

They say it hurts morale to give the enemy a human face. Boy were they ever wrong! I would like to point out that it was House Croda/Morse/Whatever that declared TOTAL WAR on Pantsare Leaking weeks ago. We continue to live out the highest virtues of cesspool integrity, doing the right thing long before it's fashionable. The rest of you Johnny-come-latelys are welcome to follow in our footsteps, and crush PL under your fashionable but practical iron-shod jackboots, but if my battle with the aforementioned carbuncle is any indication how my comrades are doing in their games, there's not going to be much left when you get there. Lurk