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Peng, I Am Still Taking Our Bloody Challenge Public


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

No, you're not.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

That is the funniest thing I've read all day.

Hey Peng'sAlterEgo...How is the reunification bout with the ex-Hamster going. I haven't noticed an update in quite some time.

And morse, you VT wielding bastard. I'll call off the 20mm trucks if you call off your VT.

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"Nuts!"

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GiT!

Seems that I have seen you out there at Rugged Defense spreading a few wild oats about, letting your seed fall on other ground so to speak. You talk of faithfulness yet you expend your precious bodily fluids on other harlots....where are your loyalties, you cad!

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Kniggit of the Old Pool, Official 3000th poster to the original Peng thread and present at it's demise

[This message has been edited by jdmorse (edited 11-13-2000).]

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Hiram Sedai:

Sir Seachai, I am saddened to see that you are indeed bereft of testosterone. I had thought that living in the land of the "Vikes" would have toughened you up by now, But it would appear that your effeminate nature is truly indominateable and pervasive. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Yeh, but it's a sport where the so-called men have to be padded up, isn't it (not that I give a rats)?

Why can't you guys play real a decent sports game like Rugby or Aussie Rules, where the prime goal is to beat your opponent into the ground, and cause at least one limb breakage or fractured skull during a session?

Mace

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

GiT!

Seems that I have seen you out there at Rugged Defense spreading a few wild oats about, letting your seed fallo on other ground so to speak. You talk of faithfulness yet you expend your precious bodily fluids on other harlots....where are your loyalties, you cad!

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Are you...talking to me?

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"Nuts!"

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

Why can't you guys play real a decent sports game like Rugby or Aussie Rules, where the prime goal is to beat your opponent into the ground, and cause at least one limb breakage or fractured skull during a session?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Why mace, isn't that what we are playing? Speedbumps in the way of the KT's I beleive you called yourself.

Croda does not equal GiT by any stretch of the imagination, unless your Jungian unconscious is manifesting some sort of puerile confession perhaps? Hmmmmmmmmm?

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>My inner Croda says it has a growing foundness for you.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>-Pawbroom

[This message has been edited by jdmorse (edited 11-13-2000).]

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

Why mace, isn't that what we are playing? Speedbumps in the way of the KT's I beleive you called yourself.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Damned lawyers, you tell them something and they use it against you for perpituity (and no doubt financial reward)! wink.gif

Mace

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Himom I'mgay - Your dea...er..."map" is ready.

The map is quick and dirty and most likely unbalanced, the force mix is probably wildly unrealistic, and the briefings are a snotty attempt to be semi-humorous.

I love it.

The working title is Chupazuma's Revenge, and you two poor bastards get to stumble through it like the headless chickens you so admire. Ha ha ha! Silly man-animals!

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Grand Poobah of the fresh fire of Heh.

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

Yeh, but it's a sport where the so-called men have to be padded up, isn't it (not that I give a rats)?

Why can't you guys play real a decent sports game like Rugby or Aussie Rules, where the prime goal is to beat your opponent into the ground, and cause at least one limb breakage or fractured skull during a session?

Mace<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Oh.. you mean that game where a bunch of skin kneed girly men (weighing in around 180 pounds) run around and tap enough other on the head? Sort of like a vicious game of duck, duck, grey duck?

Perhaps you are to naive and you forget, Mace, that the average line backer in American football weighs in 230-260 pounds and you defensive linemen weigh in close to 280-300 pounds.

The guys that play that wussy sport called rugby wouldn't last 5 minutes in the NFL. Your femme rugby lads would look awful funny stumbling off the field with a set of cleat tracks up and down their ass, trying in vain to pick up their teeth with broken fingers.

Jeff

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

Damned lawyers, you tell them something and they use it against you for perpituity (and no doubt financial reward)!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

I recall no assertion of privilege, now bring those MBT's (snigger, snort, guffaw, roll on the flow, stop it you are killing me) and let's go mano a mano!!

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>My inner Croda says it has a growing foundness for you.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>-Pawbroom

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The Re-Kniggits ride again.

"Tell the townsfolk that me and my pompous bunch of yellow-bellied cowards will save your town from the evil hordes."

'I want to have faith in you sir...or ma'am but I have heard that it is more important to your bunch to talk of exploits amongst yourselves than it is to actually go into action.'

"We are like Vikings. (mmm WoW)Come here little Re-kniggits and pat me on the back. Oooh, that's it. A little higher. AAAh, right there young squire."

Later in the town;

'Daddy we're being burnt alive. I thought you went for help.

"I did, but all I could find was The Re-Kniggits ."

Some Kingdom

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Herr Oberst:

Poor Jeff, he still doesn't get it...

It is neither my position nor my duty to report on any incidents in our battle that reflect badly on moi.

I am however, supposed to brag [sNIP]

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Are you fur%$%^@!!#$%% stupid?!

I'll give you something to brag about. I have taken minimal casualties while you have sustained 25% losses if not more and we are ONLY in the 5th or 6th turn?

I am going to gut you from scrotum to sternum and yank out your intestines with a grapefruit spoon!

Mark my words old man.. You are going DOWN! (Sit DOWN, Bauhaus!)

Jeff

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Now that Meeks seems to be gone, it appears that his rage

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>I am going to gut you from scrotum to sternum and yank out your intestines with a grapefruit spoon!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

and egomania

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>I'll give you something to brag about. I have taken minimal casualties while you have sustained 25% losses if not more and we are ONLY in the 5th or 6th turn?<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

(unfortunately not his talent for stringing words together)

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>

Are you fur%$%^@!!#$%% stupid?!

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

have been reincarnated in The Bastard. Nice to see it around.

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"Nuts!"

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Oh stop your simpering you worthless sons of bitches, I'm back. You see, for some time now I've been unable to put together a good, solid string of insults. I'd pull up a response to one of your many pathetic posts and I'd start it off well enough, you know with lots of mention of obscure body parts being used in even more obscure dishes, but then I'd be struck by 'Pool block.

So I tried the Seanachai Way, which is something akin to: They post a sentence, you post a library. They send one of your boys to the Webster's dictionary, you send one of their's to the Library of Congress. The words came, the theories expounded, I railed against the apparent uselessness of the 'Pool vs. the obvious quality of resultant wit in it but when I got to my ultimate theory of what the 'Pool was, I ended up writing that it was a jungle gym for adults. What the hell? I felt like Michael Jordan playing baseball.

So I thought hell, just wait till the inspiration comes. Then I thought, what the hell?!?! If one of my infantrymen told me he had Rifleman's block I'd run the man through with a barber's pole. If, one day, Hiram sent me an E-mail saying he had CM block, I'd hunt him down and use his ligaments for my violin. A pox on all blocks, except for the kind that gives the Raiders a good running game and the XK found under the hood of a classic Jag. Now on to the pissing on my opponents:

Elvis: Lucky in love, unlucky in everything else. Wait, just checked on that love thing, he's not lucky in that, either.

JDMorse: Luckiest piece of donkey spunk ever to have walked the Earth. I hope his children are born with flippers. More than likely it will be hooves.

Peng: Whomever put the forces on this map, Chup I think, is neither cruel nor dastardly but rather just incompetant. Peng stood no chance on Rd. 1 and has managed to go rapidly downhill. I've met Rodney Dangerfield, I'm a friend of Rodney Dangerfield and I must say, Peng, you are Rodney Dangerfield.

Seanachai: Hasn't sent me a turn in about 2 months. No worries, when he does send turns there's about as much excitement. Still scared of the fact that I've got the Duke, I'd wager.

Jefe: Gifted with the most lopsided random force assignment, EVER, Jefe has managed to piss away every advantage and wrestle himself into a position of failure. His performance against me is, without a doubt, the worst I've seen since I played that one-legged chihuahua from Greece.

Croda: Doing a very good job of going against all tactical doctrine taught for the last 3000 years. Croda's pre-Sumerian battle plan is decimating me. My men are looking for iron weapons with which to fight him and have begun forming phalanxes, though I'm starting to fear it is too little, too late, too often with too many toos to do anything.

Chrisl: Demonstrating once again why Assault is the most pathetically evil setting in CM. I have destroyed, at last count, roughly three companies of armor and at least a full division of infantry. I have lost one platoon of infantry, a couple M8s and a duck, leaving me with fourteen mimes to defend against Chrisl's remaining 8 regiments of horse-drawn, thermo-nuclear warhead dispensing, invulnerable God-Kings and their supporting 4th Imperial Storm Wing of Tie Bombers and Tie Defenders. I am confident that he will be defeated.

Hiram: My inner Croda tells me Hiram should surrender and weeps at the continued slaughter of his men. My men are unable to do anything but kill Hiram's men and have done so using 32 methods all ready, including the rare and poorly modeled, "Death by large rock" and the better modeled but equally rare, "Death by larger rock."

PeterNZer: Demonstrating the reason why it is detrimental to leave the Pool for any period of time, PeterNZer has slandered me over and over again, playing what I assume is a different game than I. He has, firstly, no grasp of tactics or proper use of any unit within CM and this results in his clucking about killing or KOing conscript infantry and vehicles. I hold all VLs with, roughly, 37,000 conscript soldiers, and do not much worry that he will be successful assaulting said positions with green limeys. It made me weep with happiness to learn that this utter fool, this horse's ass, this animated troll doll PeterNZer managed to fight the reprehensible Lewis to a draw. I do not like Lewis, he strikes me as a little man and I will say no more about him, other than that I have it on good authority that he peruses goat porn in his leisure hours.

OGSF: Still my favorite Next Generation 'Pooler, he fights well and curses even better. Our game has just started but, from prior games I can expect horrendously bad luck and massive, massive slaughter. If you all decide to kill me and distribute my titles like so many pieces of taffy, I would like OGSF to be the first to stab me.

Have I missed anyone? Andreas doesn't respond to me, taking offense at my stance on free speech. Berli hasn't sent me a file in years. Goanna's made me an offer I can't refuse but also can't quite understand, though I'm still chuckling about the hacky-sacking of Warsaw. Poetry is still for cripples and homosexuals. I am the Dillinger. Brush. Roborat, send me a set-up so that you can feel some real pain. Past performance is indicative of future return. Too bad about the CC5 debacle. Don't use crack, mushrooms are better.

Also, I need a new sig, so shape up you rat bastard sons of syphillus infected monkey**** loving whores and write something that's wry.

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I've got far more annoying things than that up my sleeve.

-Meeks

You must wear awfully loose shirts to fit an oompah band up your sleeve.

-Chrisl

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Meeks is back once again.

This equals - The "Long Dong Silver of CM" is back amongst us. This feels almost as good as a Penging, boys and girls. Remember those days when Peng had a pair of cojones and didn't cite poetry? I had a drive-by Penging a while back. (Not that far back, we know Germanboy) Now, the pool is a puddle and I feel I am partly to blame. I long for the days of the Seanachai expository essays on placing a boot to someones' hindquarters.

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Did someone compare this to the Peng thread? I've apologized for less.

-Anonymous

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Elijah Meeks:

Jefe: Gifted with the most lopsided random force assignment, EVER, Jefe has managed to piss away every advantage and wrestle himself into a position of failure. His performance against me is, without a doubt, the worst I've seen since I played that one-legged chihuahua from Greece.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

You mother lovin' SOB! Bend over, grab your ankles and get ready to sing "Moon River", cause I am gonna give it to you so bad you are gonna wish it was the LAPD back there with a plunger instead of me.

I am gonna roll your forces up like a cheap cigar and find more creative things to do with them than Bill Clinton ever thought of. Am I making myself clear, Mr. Leaks?

Jeff

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Been away from the board for a bit, so how about a game update.

In the process of losing to:

Broon (shelling but not doing much), Hiram (nope, no lurking Jumbos here) and Peng (must've bribed the AI with booze to catch those breaks). Started out well against all three, but the fickle gods of war have changed their allegience. Mebbe I'll have to send 2 cases of Scotch next time.

too early to tell:

Blousemouse ... looking good now but too early; Gerbiltoy ... still wandering around the woods; morsels ... he's gotta be on this map somewhere; sasquatch ... let's hope he keeps running his troops dead on into zippos and SMG squads.

surrender imminent:

Berli, 'nuff said.

games pending:

Working out details with goatmunch; awaiting Geier's return from the RW.

To those beating on me now or who will be beating on me in the future, I quote the steamed MrPeng: "Feh!"

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"I came to Casablanca for the waters."

[This message has been edited by Moriarty (edited 11-13-2000).]

[This message has been edited by Moriarty (edited 11-13-2000).]

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Hiram Sedai:

Mewling remarks about how nice it is to see people you've never met but respect and secretly desire.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Oh shut up you little sissy. Every ****e post about the quality of the 'Pool is a ****e post that lessens the quality of the 'Pool. Post something like this, you little girly-man:

Mensch: New opponent, left him out because he's not prepossessing at all. Nothing of any real interest has happened. I can only assume that he is an inveterate psycho, intent upon using my fat to fuel his stoves as he cooks my beating heart to serve to his marmot-faced children. Good god, this man scares the bejesus out of me.

Still looking for that sig you bunch a losers.

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

A homoerotic tale suitable for posting on the alt.crazypschogaymenwhoplaycm.binaries involving Jefe and an unwilling target of Jefe's affections. The tale is poorly written but very well thought out, indicating Jefe has all ready tested it out on various subjects, listed in order of likelihood: A duck, a bison, a bricklayer named Vinnie, a schoolmarm, a protesting but not altogether unwilling salmon, George W. Bush.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Jefe, let me just state the particulars of the situation. The random force assignment, in 29m visability, mind you, gave me barbed wire (That you could see from round one) a roadblock and 4 infantry guns, one of which refuses to fire due to the fact that 29m is within it's minimum range. You have managed, with a real force advantage of roughly 300%, to get yourself slaughtered everywhere, to have entire platoons routed by 1-man HQ units and otherwise prove yourself to be the CM equivilent of Larry Munroe, the only Keystone Cop to be cut from the squad for being too bloody stupid. You sir, have all the tactical skill of a vagabond jellyfish and smell like Halibut slime, to boot.

Where's that sig, goddammit!

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Ejakulating Mooks:

Mensch: New opponent, left him out because he's not prepossessing at all. Nothing of any real interest has happened. I can only assume that he is an inveterate psycho, intent upon using my fat to fuel his stoves as he cooks my beating heart to serve to his marmot-faced children. Good god, this man scares the bejesus out of me.

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

no worries there my sweet mooksy, Qu'uaal'tukan my personal demonette and I are arranging something warm for you.. an hot fudge its not.. were going to reach deep inside you and grab your gonads from the inside and pull them out from your nose, causing all the cute little girl guides near by to scream in horror dropping all thier little cookies too!

your going to have to go around in life after this battle wearing undershorts on your head or have a hard time explaining to the chicks why your nose looks so .... distrubing.

------------

<a href="http://www.geocities.com/greg_mudry/sturm.html">Der Kessel</a >

Home of „Die Sturmgruppe“; Scenario Design Group for Combat Mission.

[This message has been edited by mensch (edited 11-13-2000).]

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Elijah Meeks:

Jefe, let me just state the particulars of the situation. The random force assignment, in 29m visibility, mind you, gave me barbed wire (That you could see from round one) a roadblock and 4 infantry guns, one of which refuses to fire due to the fact that 29m is within it's minimum range. You have managed, with a real force advantage of roughly 300%, to get yourself slaughtered everywhere, to have entire platoons routed by 1-man HQ units and otherwise prove yourself to be the CM equivalent of Larry Munroe, the only Keystone Cop to be cut from the squad for being too bloody stupid. You sir, have all the tactical skill of a vagabond jellyfish and smell like Halibut slime, to boot.

Where's that sig, goddammit!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Are you actually this stupid or are you pretending? It doesn't take a tactical genius to place crack soldiers in ambush and then be surprised when they can easily route regular troops.

I am going to win this little battle of ours. And if you at all are taking any gratification or smugness in the fact you dropped arty on my mortar brigade I just want you to know that that whole mortar formation was a joke. Hell, what else am I gonna do with them at night. I was laughing the whole time they actually came into use. And the fact I can sneak 60 men with mortars within visual range and then have them proceed in barraging the hell out of you made me almost wet my pants.

Some people are actually good at being megalomaniacs. You Meeks...you're just annoying.

Jeff

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Guest Germanboy

<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by Elijah Meeks:

Have I missed anyone? Andreas doesn't respond to me, taking offense at my stance on free speech. <HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Nope, just busy. I do not take offense at reasoned statements and thought, it is stupidity that gets me.

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Andreas

<a href="http://www.geocities.com/greg_mudry/sturm.html">Der Kessel</a >

Home of „Die Sturmgruppe“; Scenario Design Group for Combat Mission.

[This message has been edited by Germanboy (edited 11-13-2000).]

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Meeks, you may be stranger than a wading pool full of peyote-abusing Mexican Elvis impersonators, but surely you're not so godawful pathetically unimaginative as to not be able to think of your own bloody tagline?

Hell, if you're that hard up, take my old one. Or go back to selling the Street Signature News, begging for signature busfare, and scrounging half-eaten signature calzones from the signature dumpster out back of the nasty Korean-owned signature pizzaria, I don't give a damn.

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Grand Poobah of the fresh fire of Heh.

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