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Joys an Fears of E-mail


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I just noticed this trend of mine over the last week or so. Since I've been playing PBEM's for awhile now, I seem to load up my Outlook Express looking for CM turn replies with either a sense of eagerness or a sense of trepidation. One feels like "I hope that bastage didn't send me anything today" and the second being "Hurry up u muther!, I'm clushing your head, I'm clushing your head". So I sat down today and analyzed this extensively for all of 45 seconds and found the following conclusions:

I feel trepidation when I'm getting my snapper whacked.

I feel eagerness when I'm finally beating somebody over the net (or at least it appears so).

Can't really say why I do but just thought I'd put that out for y'alls consumption. Might be others feeling the same way. We could maybe start a support group or something.

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Thanks for Athskin!

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Guest Michael emrys

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Grognerd_Fogman:

...So I sat down today and analyzed this extensively for all of 45 seconds and found the following conclusions:

I feel trepidation when I'm getting my snapper whacked.

I feel eagerness when I'm finally beating somebody over the net (or at least it appears so).

Can't really say why I do but just thought I'd put that out for y'alls consumption. Might be others feeling the same way. We could maybe start a support group or something.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Sounds to me like you are a typically craven, vindictive, savage, cowardly, conniving, bloodlust-driven, timorous human being. Welcome to the club! biggrin.gif

Michael

"When it comes to high-velocity metallic objects, 'tis better to give than to receive."

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My trepidation overfloweth. Send that turn so I can trepidiciously ping the heads of your remaining panzer-sissies.

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As I walk through the Valley of Death, I will fear nothing, for I am the meanest mother*#*#** in the valley. (George S. Patton)

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As the smoke rises to the ceiling my brain sizzles over some of the larger maps. Taking another guzzle from my handy jug, I attempt to focus on the possible possible's. Targetting lines blur the landscape in a pattern vaguely reminiscent off my drive home, I stumble through the hotkeys M, F, T, N, S. Will that ****ing bird never stop???

Soon I am brought back by a soft ding announcing a returning file. Stunned I look back through our email discussion wondering who's been sending files for me...

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