Jim Boggs

1) TRY THE DEMO!!! :mad: 2) BUY THE GAME!!! :mad: 3) PLAY PBEM WITH A MAGGOT OF YOUR CHOICE!!! :mad:

You may build infantry corps or armies, tank groups, air fleets, strategic bombers, subs, naval ships, rockets. Units are placed in or within one hex of a city in home country. They may also be placed in occupied cities, but not adjacent. Yes. Cost is 250 MMP to buy one research point. I cannot remember all tecj available but from memory: Heavy armor-tanks Improved AT-infantry Jets-air units Industrial Capacity-Reduces unit purchas costs Subs-Subs Heavy Bombers-Bombers Rocket Tech-Rockets Gun laying radar-naval units Improved Sonar-naval units TRY THE DEMO!! :mad:

MPP's are generated by cities and resource locations shown on the map. Each city and resource center is individually added to come up with each nation's MPPs. When conquering a country you receive "Plunder" of various amounts as a one shot reward. Thereafter their cities and resource locations add up to 50% of their original value to you MPPs. Not in SC. Map is limited to Ural mountains in the east, eastern coast of North America to west, southern tip of Scandinavia in north and northern bit of Africa in the south. You can gain their city resources and resource location MPPs. The conquered MPPs are deducted from the original owning power as well. No. Battles are resolved one unit at a time. You move a unit and attack. After casualties are taken, you move another unit and attack. You may continue to move units until all units have been moved. Attacking must be done as part of move or else attack opportunity is lost. No stacking of units is allowed. Try the demo! :mad: [ June 07, 2004, 04:39 PM: Message edited by: Jim Boggs ]

Emrys If you had a lick of sense you'd...

Very touching and gracious. Thanks for not only sharing your experience, but your thoughts as well.

Bah! I wave my hand at the sun! Only weaklings clinging to the failed promises of an outmoded diurnal system pay any attention to the sun. </font>

Emrys & Shaw bring to mind another song title: Cry me a River Sheesh! This is the MBT not Little House on the Prairie. BTW-Joe, you better get a <big><big>BIG</big></big> hanky when you get your next turn. You'll be wishing you were still at work.

Shouldn't you be falling off your boat or something? I imagine you'll never own a PDA until they make one that can survive total immersion </font>

Well, maybe. Seems a little mild, though. </font>

Speaking of song titles, do you recall the Eric Clapton title: After Midnight? Sadly I cannot sleep til noon, LIKE CERTAIN OTHER POSTERS!! </font>

Speaking of song titles, do you recall the Eric Clapton title: After Midnight? Sadly I cannot sleep til noon, LIKE CERTAIN OTHER POSTERS!!

Okay, I have devised a new rating system in order to classify certain opponents turn-sending rates. I have decided, in order to placate the grogs to use a comparison that they can understand: Rate of Fire of weapons. 1) Boo Radley MG42 2) Joe Shaw BAR 3) Lars M1 Garand 4) dalem Boulder Yep, that's about it.

Plagiarizing? Hardly that, honoring rather. You're just jealous because you aren't me and you were proven wrong in the last thread ... but I don't want to bring up that painful memory for you again. Joe </font>

Rule 61 - dalem always makes the best Thread Titles. </font>

Yes, right then. Listen up rune. Is there an issue with near-sightedness in your family? The last two of your... offerings were set at night with limited (60m) visibility. Now along comes Evil, Jr. with *gasp* a daytime scenario. I couldn't believe it. I was shocked, but pleased. Then I opened the file and found myself in the middle of a sandstorm. Visibility 80m. I sense a trend here. Regardless, the Younger One shows great potential, and I'm sure we would all agree that the sooner you retire and turn over the family business to Junior, the better it will be for all concerned.

Okay, that's it. No more Mr Nice Guy (Officially sanctioned Sissy of the MBT as ordained by Peng himself). dalem You have strutted your slut on the General Forum long enough. Rather than doing the honorable and proper thing (ie; SEND A TURN) you are playing cheeky-cheeky grab my pinkie with CMplayer. Enough of this tomfoolery lad. Quit showing off the stain in your underwear and claiming it gives you special insight. Believe me, they are not laughing with you. Now then, a turn?

Is that anything like the Mallet O' Understanding"? </font>

Brilliantly expounded. Concisely edited. Word for word one of the most powerful examples of pure and vivid persiflagiosity I have seen in print anywhere in the civilized word. It is an honor to bear the rake of the utterer of these noble words. </font>

Brilliantly expounded. Concisely edited. Word for word one of the most powerful examples of pure and vivid persiflagiosity I have seen in print anywhere in the civilized word. It is an honor to bear the rake of the utterer of these noble words.

Oh, and what are you, then? Australian? African? Antarctican? Admit it, you bloody Canucks and Brazzies and Argies, you all are just Americans! You live on a continent named after an ITALIAN!!! BWAHAHAA!!!!!!! </font>

Publish and be damned. </font>

Hmmmm... I sense the presence of a Melancholy Gnome. So a Story is what you want, very well: Lars and the Pic of Doom Once upon a time there was a Danish barkeep who stumbled across an ancient picture of someone who was clearly an important and noble personage. On the back of the picture was a warning stamped in bold letters: Do not release for viewing without permission!! Nevertheless the Dipsomaniacal Dane was so enamored of the wonder and splendor of the picture that he could not restrain his desire to share the vision of greatness with others. Disregarding the very specific warning, Lars began showing the picture to his few friends and acquaintances. The awe and admiration that was displayed at each showing bolstered the good Dane's self-esteem to the bursting point. To have in one's posession such a wonderful piece of art was perhaps the greatest achievement of his sordid existance. But then, things began to happen. Strange things. Enjoying his new found fame, Lars went to dinner with several of his newly won female admirers. Carefully selecting his all-white, tailor made, Armani suit, he suited up for an evening of stimulating conversation and excellent cuisine. After the delightful meal, he ordered coffee, as was his habit. Somehow, the coffee cup overturned, spilling the dark hot liquid squarely into his lap, the stain spreading across the entire frontal nether region of his crotch. Embarrased, he tried to slip out unnoticed, but with little success. The other diners gawked in silence, then turned away politely to avoid laughing in his face. The humiliation was great upon him. Arriving at his home, thoroughly dejected, he recalled the warning from the picture. He shook his head and banished the thought from his mind. The next day, while performing his morning relief, the toilet seat mysteriously came crashing down in mid-stream, splattering him with the yellow stain of regret. Quickly changing his clothes, he set off to work. Enroute, his car began hissing and blowing steam from under the hood, before finally coming to a halt, miles from the nearest town. Now Lars once again remembered the warning he had so callously disregarded. While looking in the trunk for a tool with which to fix his car, he accidently spilled a quart jar of honey on his pants. Cursing his misfortune, he grabbed a towel and began wiping the gooey mess, only to see it spread into an even larger stain. Then he heard it. The sound of wild Alsatian pigs, come looking for breakfast. Running with all his might, Lars raced to the nearest tree and barely managed to make it to the first row of branches before the wild pigs arrived and surrounded the base of the tree. Snorting and rooting as pigs are want to do, they settled in for the siege. "Why, oh why did I ignore that warning?" the suddenly very scared Dane asked himself. "How can things get any worse?" Then, from the edge of the clearing came the clear deep-throated growl of a very angry and very hungry bear. The pigs ran off squealing with fear as the giant bear ambled up to the base of the tree. Lars knew now that there was no escape. Soon, he would be just another light snack, (albeit very sweet thanks to the honey), for the ravenous bear. He looked to the heavens and begged forgiveness for ignoring the sacred warning etched on the ancient picture. He closed his eyes and felt all around him going dark and dank. Awaking with a start, Lars sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat dripping from his furrowed brow. It had only been a horrible dream. Or had it been a final warning? Lars took the picture and once again read the warning on the back. He had been given a second chance at life. The picture remained unpublished and unseen. Clearly there was much danger involved in the unauthorized viewing of it's wonder. Given this reprieve, Lars knew what he had to do.

Ah yes, I understand. Do that a lot in Alsace? Can't say I've ever fed a pig, but I did allow Lars in my house. Pretty much the same I suppose.

*Sighs* Your big moment to rise up and taunt, and this is the best you could come up with? It's not even original!!! Ah yes, the French! The wit, the passion, the flowery prose. From the heart and soul. Magnificent. Now then, when are you going to start exhibiting these noble traits in your posts?

Sheesh Joe, you gonna adopt him as well? You sound more like his mother than his Liege Lord. I must confess, the style suits ya. Listen up thar Joe Joe. Was it my guys that wandered into that 120mm mortar barrage? Nope. Was it my FO that got whacked trying to run down that hill? Nope. Is it my scout car that hides behind the crest of that hill because he's afraid of getting shot at? Nope. So enjoy your brief stay at the Boo Hilton. I can assure you the eviction will be most painful and thorough.