Wolfp MkII

{Day 2:Pass 6} - 13.2kb/s, 681mb, and only an 11 hour (est) d/l time...I'm going in hot, wish me luck...Well...maybe not so hot, more like luke warmish, but wish me luck anyway. I WILL PREVAIL!!!

At least this time a reason was provided...I imagine the preponderance include no specification, but an understood "just because". You should sleep better tonight.

A homage to my internet connection: Electron cantaloup Forced through a cocktail straw I need a sledgehammer Twenty-four hours no luck It is a conspiracy Where is the commo Failure yet again Cache write system buggered I am depressed

Justicar, I truly am speechless. Here, I have teased forth the subliminal text for the remainder of this august...or is it December?..body to digest. I believe your words are spot on...Well said, well said. Big whoop, so you have a date now. You know, identify theft is a no, no. No need to volunteer...See above.

Hah!...Sand?..Shows what you know, which, unsurprisingly, is still nada. I have four walls, a roof, three computers, a swivel chair, a bed, matress, and sheets. When I do decide to ride forth and tussle with the locals, its in an armored HMMWV with heating and air. The greatest threat I face day to day is heartburn from the fare served by the fine folks of KBR. Now...Where was I? Macediddlesdingos...No...Berliissogirlie...dammit!

You wouldn't happen to be travelling the long way around by say, the Gulf of Aden?..I'll alert the Somali's to expect your imminent arrival.

...Nidan1suckshisthumb...No!..Yeknodisafecklesssod...No, but funny...

Joe has the chemical compound found in abundance around your neck of the woods dried your brain to jerky? One would think, if I were clever enough to email BFC for my old u/n, I would also ask them...to...reset...my...password...Hey, wait a minute.

{strolls by while whistling a jaunty tune} Whoa! Ya gotta be kiddin me...It's me...or it was me then...Glory be, hallelujah, praise the lord, pass the ammo, bring in the cat, throw out the baby, someone find me a burning bush cause I need to lite something on fire! MMMMEEEEEEMMMMMMOOOOORRRRRIIIIIEEEEESSS...{sniff} Now, what was that freakin password...BooRadleystinks...no!; Stukaisasastupiddoes...nah, didn't even know the twink then; rleetehassmellyfeet...uh, uh; JoeShawsticksinmycrawl...CRAP!

Dance puppets...Dance! Who but a true Knigget could cause so much mayhem in such a short amount of time; you can almost smell the ozone from the trons flying thither and yon. Hmmmmm, this weak offer of demotion two steps down, with an additional "S" in SSN to sweeten the pot, intrigues me (if for no other reason then all the bad guys are on the Hajj, so I have some extra time to burn.) I cannot prove who I used to be, except that I know who I am now, which is who I was then, and who I will still be, which is what you are asking me to verify today, to confirm my yesterday, in order to move forward tomorrow; but, would any Knight willingly shed the moniker so easily, which would be proof positive to the naysayers that I am not who I say I am, nor was I ever, or could be again...AHA!..A conundrum. My feckin pw is four years old, and at this point in my life, I consider myself lucky if I can remember what I had for breakfast, or whether I ate at all for that matter. So, that route is definitely fubar. I shall have to go straight away to jack steele and get my big on whilst giving this some serious consideration. In the mean time...Boo "nanner" is a perfectly acceptable idiomatic form of "neener" in these here parts. You just have to say it with a phlegmy sound emphasized on the second syllable.

*sigh!* Why is the return of a prodigal son always an unhappy affair? Never a door opened to the scene of hearth, home, and companionship, but always one of withered, dottering old men, aimlessly wandering about dressed only in black knee socks and prune juice stained skivvies, repeatedly insisting that someone removed the TV remote from its proper place on the coffee table, railing against the gods for this ill fate visited upon them, when all along, it is carried in their left hand. Each of you should have your medicare/medicaid policies reviewed by your court appointed caregivers to determine if the purchase of Namenda is covered; that or Cyanide (quicker and more humane than you deserve!) Boo - Seriously...Have you regressed so far, so fast that your sole rejoinder is one of second grade pottie humor? Very well...I am rubber, you are glue...nanner, nanner, nanner! Puka - Does Boo allow you to wear a cute little pirate hat on that parrot head of yours when you perch upon his shoulder and squak?

Ah Joe...Dear, sweet, senile Joe I ask simply that you do but one thing...the ON/OFF switch located on that single cell in your cranium, go ahead and flip it into the up position...No, the up position...Toward the North Star...OK, the ceiling then...That's it. Function test...Is it on?..testing...testing...1,2...1,2. Do try to keep up sparky, as I weave my tale. If I progress too rapidly, simply grunt, and that will suffice as a signal to throttle back so you can catch up: A long, long time ago in a galaxy far, far away...Wait, that's copyright infringement. Let's try a different opening. Once upon a time in the days of yore (that means a while back), I was but a simple SSN, who tripped and fell into this cesspool...THE CESSPOOL...I found, much to my chagrin, that no matter my attempts at escape, I continued to be sucked back in (just like Al Pacino, only he said it better). One day, an epiphany, the only way out must be upward through the ranks. As I navigated this Byzantine Labyrinth of intrigue, infighting, backstabbing, and general churlishness, I was taken on as squire by one Berlichtingen. Being of quick mind and rapier wit, it was not long until the title of Knight was bestowed upon me. But alas, my plan went awry, instead of escape, I sank every deeper into this mortal rendition of Purgatory. Salvation came to me unexpectedly one day in the form of orders. I was sent straight away to a land down under (dont get excited you Aussie twits; I wouldn't venture to a land whose chief attraction is poisonous varmints and weird marsupials)...Argentina, where wine and beef are cheap, but the internet aint so much. As my travels continued, I began to wonder, are any in the CESSPOOL still alive? Imagine my disappointment when a resounding YES! was my answer. I heard the sirens call once again, but couldn't remember my password for my old username (I drank a lot of wine, I mean gallons), Wolfp. So what you see before you today is a reincarnation, a retooling, a bigger, stronger, faster, now armed with a Masters Degree Wolfp. I have risen from the ashes like a Phoenix taking on my new form...Wolfp MkII! MUWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! And I still loathe you all equally: Mace-Hate! Joe-Hate! Nidan1-Hate! Stuka-You're a twit! I am sure I will grow to hate you as well. Lars-Hate! Leeo-Hate! Dalen-Apparently dead, but still hated Michael-Hate! Berlichtingen-Junior's home papa...Whom shall I hate for you? Noba-Nice opening, wanker! Imagination on the fritz? Hate! Boo-Double hate with a cherry on top! Ladies of the Pool-Utmost respect! The Rest because its 0130 where I'm at and I need to hit the rack...HATE! So there you have it Joe, the epic outlining my journies for the last 4 years. To quote that famous army guy who did whatever in the Southern Pacific, "I have been away for a long, long time but now I'm back to free you people from oppression" or somesuch.

Well, this seems familiar and still doesn't fail to disappoint. Glad to see some things never change.