Kobal2

Innuendo senses...tingling...

Hmmmm...no rules. No "Challenge" in the title. No dissing SSNs. No despising Wafflers. This is, as a made-in-Taiwan Rolex or a Lars strategy, a fraud.

Hey, don't pick on Seanachai, c'mon the fellow is...is...buggered if I know. He's one old donkey cuddler, that's for sure. I mean, the bloke's been there long enough to become furniture. Of course, he does sing. But have you ever, I mean *ever* had singing furniture ? Even if it's singing make you think of a cat clawing through a frying pan ? And of, course, there's his writing. But I kinda like his overwordiness. He's like a little drunk furry politician, with the added benefit that, at least, he ain't stealing money. Not mine, that is, I wouldn't know for you slimey idjits who have the common idiocy to let him in. So, all in all, he's a fair bugger, if you just get him to shut his trap.

Aannnd that's another tank out the map. And yet another minefield. And Lars's planes strafing his own grunts. In other words : more of the same. I'll win, eventually.

(didn't I warn you about Seanachai coming back with a brand new répetoire of atrocities to murder our ears with ? Didn't I ?) (On a lighter sidenote, Lars managed to have his forces strafed by his own planes. My dear Shaw, I do believe he's on his way to murder you setup. I *will* win this game of silly buggers.)

None whatsoever, unless you have some heavy duty stuff (rockets, 150+ guns) AND you are lucky enough to get a direct hit. And when you do have such heavy stuff, it comes expensive and in short supply, so it's not worth wasting against a bunker in the odd hope that it will blow.

So, where's the suffering part in your absence, pray tell ? Ah. Now I get it. It's the prospect of you coming back from a folk festival (Is that like, a Renaissance Faire with less goth chicks wearing bustiers that up their breasts right under their chins, and more fat old pished wannabe Irish/Scotsmen ?) with a fresh load of new songs to sing at us drunk and out of tune, isn't it ? That *is* painful, I'll grant you that. But not really more so than, say, playing Lars, dealing with rleete's antics or Shaw's megalo-centered diatribes foam-mouthed in my general direction. In time, you just get used to anything. Even a rabid pack of lackwit mongrels revelling in their own filth and licking the occasional pool of month-old vomit like these here MBT dwellers.

Monday night, haven't slept since friday night, mostly because of those stoopid things I call "friends", those blue patches under my eyes reaching my chin, drunk as a scotsman on his wedding day, I feel it's time for a little sing song. All in good fun. Yo, this one goes to my homey Lars, the turn-monopolizing amoeba, y'know what'm sayin' ? You must die I alone am best! I hope ya flip some guy the bird He cuts you off and you're forced to swerve In front of the Beatles' tour bus A Bookmobile and a Mack truck Hauling hazardous biological waste The light turns red you have no brakes And "Hard Copy" gets it all on tape So you can see the look on your face Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die I hope your Pinto begins to spin Takes out a disabled Vietnam Veteran Mows down a Nobel Peace Prize Winner And maybe some orphans having Christmas dinner Perhaps even the British Royal Family And the Rabbi that's clutching the bottle-fed puppy And we can't forget the newlyweds And those Jerry's Kids are as good as dead I hope this helps to emphasize, I hope this helps to clarify : I hope you die ! I hope your cellmate thinks he's God But C.N.N. refer to him as "Bowling Ball Bag Bob" Serving time again for abuse of a corpse Only this time the victim's a Clydesdale horse While he masturbates to photos of livestock He does the "Silence of the Lambs" dance to Christian Rock Eats feces and quotes from "Deliverance" And fights with his imaginary playmate Vince Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die Die I hope he grins like Jack Nicholson And forces you to play a game called "Balls On Chin" And whatever happens next is all a blur But you remember "fist" can be a verb And when you finally regain consciousness You're bound and gagged in a wedding dress And the prison guard looks the other way ‘Cause he's the guy ya flipped the bird the other day I hope this helps to emphasize, I hope this helps to clarify : I hope you die ! The Bloodhound Gang - I hope you die.

Well, the fight has pretty much stopped to a lull, after Lars ran out of arty - but boy, did he pelt that sandpatch. Probably a reminiscence of Dune - did he try to lure a sandcrawler into attacking my panzers ? Only him and God know. And I'm not that sure for him, either. On my side, the action is all about carefully navigating around known minefields and into unknown ones. But I got one through, DAMMIT !

Awwww, kawaiii ! So young, and already drunk with violent hatred...Warms an aging heart, it does. Yet another thing to remember me I'm growing a year older today. To misquote Garfield : I hate birthdays. One step closer to the grave. And, more importantly (and more depressingly), one step closer to overall Seanachayness. The poet was sooo right..."Mourir, mourir la belle affaire, mourir cela n'est rien, mais vieillir..." (Dying, dying, petty thing, dying's nothing, but growing old...)

Isn't Seanachai always too drunk to do anything but singing bad songs off key ?

Size don't matter, or so I'm told I too tend to like smaller battles, with a company sized inf force and a handfull of AFVs - more and I get confused and/or sloppy

Arch-henchman ? ARCH-HENCHMAN ? Now we know you've lost your last shred of lucidity. Lars couldn't tie his shoes without written instructions and color-coded shoe laces, let alone put Shaw in a half-nelson. If he was to be an evil henchman, he'd be the first on the list of "people who died in the mutated sea-bass tank". He'd probably drown before the fish noticed him, too.

Aren't Shaw and Radley cute ? In a "monkey jacking off in front of kids" cute sense, of course. WAKE UP ! Lads, calling each other stoopid is a bit like Manson calling Hannibal Lecter a "not so nice guy". @Kitty : I always thought of Seanachai as a stupid bitch myself. Only he understands "love you long time" as an invitation to swing over to your place a 3 a.m. to recite schlecht poetry and bug you all day long with endless tirades on the theme of "why don't you like meee ? pleaaaase ? please please please love me please please please with a cherry on top !", the "long time" part obviously referring to how hard it is to get f*cking rid of the midget bugger.

The MP-41 is the one with dual mags, right ?