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Some points:

i) Flammthingys were brought back by troops returning from R&R. Something to do with Brothels and STDs.

ii) that knife/spoon/can opener/close combat gut ripper-outer is perhaps the greatest weapon ever invented by the British.

Now, Sod off, I'm grumpy I have to return to work tomorrow! :(

Mace

[ 04-16-2001: Message edited by: Mace ]

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

I must say that MY FECKIN' HEART BLEEDS FOR YOU!!!! Now, slacker, why don't you go to work today like the rest of us<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Oh you're so sweet, Berli!

As much as I wanted to go to work today, it was a public holiday and my place of work was locked down tighter than David Atkin's Sporran!

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

As much as I wanted to go to work today, it was a public holiday and my place of work was locked down tighter than David Atkin's Sporran!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

So, you live in a country of slackers... and anyway, you should have broke in and worked anyway

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Bloody "public servants". You should see this place on Easter Weekend. Libraries are closed, banks – even though they're not public utilities – are closed, trains – even though they were privatised years ago, seem to have forgotten, and – aren't running on time (no hang on, they never do), and the postal service has already been on strike about five times this year, so they don't get a holiday, but I think they're taking one anyway.

Damned useless British infrastructure!! I pay my income tax, savings tax, council tax, road tax, sales tax – sorry, "value added tax", har har, at 17.5 per cent!!!!!, and that's only the taxes I can remember off the top of my head, and what do I get in return??? Bloody screwed over, that's what!! Oh, but I can rest safe in the knowledge that I am subsidising university places for all those poor little kiddies whose parents only earn 50 grand a year, and hospital treatment for all those who can't afford food and have to live on nothing but cigarettes, beer and deep-fried Mars bars, and think of all those people who simply can't muster the energy to get up and go to work – where would they be if I didn't pay for their food and accommodation?

At work, god damnit, or preferably DEAD!!! Bah.

I hereby renounce citizenship of this ridiculous country. I am an independent. I tell you, if I didn't pay tax, I would have more than enough money to pay for my own services.

Grumble grumble. I'm so disgusted, I could, I could... join the Police!!!

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by David Aitken:

.

Grumble grumble. I'm so disgusted, I could, I could... join the Police!!!<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Time to form the Auchtermuchty branch of the Scottish Libertarian Party. Time to take Scotland back to its roots. Hoots man, Adam Smith lives!

Oh, and you could hire Sophie Wessex to do PR for you.

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

How utterly Evil!

A 'thingey' that spits fire? Good god, will those dastardly jerries stop at nothing? We have ubertanks, nebelwerfer whatsits and now Flammthingeys.

And to think, the most innovative thing the Alies came up with during the war was a knife/fork/spoon combination that fitted neatly together.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Keep my thingys out of it!!!!

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

... in my hometown of Worcester, Massachusetts...<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

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

Ooohhhhh, so you're from WORCESTER (that's pronounced "WUSTah" for the rest of you lot).

<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Ahh, Croda, croda, croda. I have tired of the Crawdad moniker for you. These two previous posts, and that so-called victory you won have rejuvenated my revulsion for you. So now a new nickname for you, in honor of your hometown:

If you're going to pronounce it that way, you should spell it that way...

I hereby decree that your new nickname shall be Wuss-ter.

And I believe that I owe you a setup this time around. Let me go see what the neighbor's disease-ridden, worm-laced dog has left in the yard for inspiration...

[ 04-16-2001: Message edited by: Herr Oberst ]

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I was going to post scathing remarks to many of my old Cesspool buddies, but when I logged in here, I realized that there are only a few of you that I know, or care to know, anymore.

Mesrs. Dalem and Herr, I am indeed from Worcester (made that post from Worcester as a matter of fact) and you have the pronunciation dead-on. You now understand the pain my inner Croda feels and the scarring that it has undergone.

Hairy Oberst, send a setup if you find the time. I have 15 games going and am returning turns with much less frequency than I have in the past. Should you chose to play me, you will still lose, yet slower than normal. Don't make the game too big.

I have scenarios for anyone who wants one.

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

....Don't make the game too big.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Is this the same Croda of old who scorned anything under 5000pts? BTW waitingfor a turn former squire of mine.....

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Ellros, as predicted, has met a swift destruction. After laying a smokescreen for my benefit, he kindly laid out his armour without infantry support to give me target practice, and his men were soon surrounded and decimated.

ellros_win_1a.jpg

My men dash through Ellros's smokescreen

ellros_win_1b.jpg

My right-flank platoon sprints past the Sherman they just despatched to positions behind Ellros's troops

ellros_win_1c.jpg

Behind his lines, they flush out the M10 TD which nailed my StuG (top right, the Sherman, and my surviving flak truck)

ellros_win_1d.jpg

The M10 advances to join its beleagured infantry, only to run into my trap

Lorak, I don't know if Ellros qualifies for your rankings yet, but you might like to chalk this up:

Ellros: Wondering what hit him.

Aitken: Wondering when the fighting starts.

Final score: 77-23.

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Ahh, another damn monday.

Tome update:

David-win

Elvis-loss

Auga-win

Deke-loss

Peng-win

Hiram-loss

PeterNZ-win

Elvis-loss

Leeo-win

David-loss

Sigh.. What a boring week at the McGarvey household. Through some strange twist of fate I wasn't brought up as Catholic. Oh No! I am one of those Irish-Moravians. What the hell is that you ask? No one knows. some strange Bastard thought it would be funny to grow up Irish and go to a German based church. What it means to me is this. Getting up in the middle of the night and wandering around the graveyard until sun-rise. Sadly all this does is remind me of how poorly I am doing in all my PBEm games. Fate is indeed a fickle bitch and she does in deed hate me.

For my sad little Game updates.

Moriarty and I are still playing this Bastard scenario designed by Berli. I can imagine the twinkle in his eye as Moriarty fills him in on the details at work. My take on it. After about 20 turns, (out of 60), I am as lost as I was when it started.

Elvis threw a nice little Meeks made nightmare my way. Lessons learned. German assault troops are damn deadly at close range (even without ammo). I suck, it shows.

Iskander has found out that when I dig in...I dig in. I'm dying, he is too. He has more men.

Mace has decided to wait for me to blunder into him before he starts blowing my guys all to hell. Sounds like a good plan. One I'm sure I'll help him out with very soon.

Croda has taken a small vacation. Thats fine by me. Longer he takes... the longer I can hold out hopes that I don't embarass myself.....again.

Hakko and Goanna are still in prison it seems.

I believe the rest of my games are with non-poolers. So they don't count. Lucky for me ! Because I am just as bad playing them as I am playing you.

Remember with us people of Irish blood, Death is not just a obsession or a hobby, it is our genepools passtime !

Lorak the loathed

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Thankyou kind sir Lorak. However, upon consulting with your records, I find my ranking at odds with my own records.

Yours says: 3/2/0

Mine says: 3/1/0

That's a win against Babra, Elvis and Ellros, and a loss against Leeo. I have a further 1 win and 1 loss against Meeks, but AFAIK we haven't told you that, because we're doing a best-of-three. So if you wouldn't mind, I would be most grateful to see this minor oversight corrected.

Once Meeks has surrendered we'll decide whether to award myself two wins and him one, or just myself one overall win.

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<BLOCKQUOTE>quote:</font><HR>Originally posted by David Aitken:

Whoops, almost forgot:

Lorak, please record:

Aitken: Digging the bullets out, trying to find any that are actually German.

Leeo: Finding the rain quite refreshing.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Sir Stuka, Sir Stuka! I'd proudly like to present you with the skull of Aitken for your piss-bucket. Unfortunately, I'm afraid it will be of little use to one as gloriously gifted with the volume of golden flow such as yourself. I regret to report that after hollowing the cranium, there is nary the room left for you to dribble in, kind (but otherwise negligent: Wait; did I say that out loud?) and beneficent kaniggit. However, you can put this on your newly acauired shelf of oh-so-collectable piss-buckets, to which I intend to add post haste.

This poor Aitkinses was sorely confused by my ever-present knowledge of his where-abouts. Amazing what a few veteran, shadowing sharpshooters (Damn that Fenkle! I've been once again been infected with unintentional alliteration) can accomplish in a low visibility scenario. They made contact, and kept contact with his manhoovering troops for most of the game. That, in association with creating listening posts from injured squads in strategic locations, turned a rainy night into tactical daylight. I even had one sharpshooter sneak along within one of his platoons for about three turns. I will bring you his skull again, so that you may have a matching set of bookends, since his occipital volume precludes the use of his skull for relieving thyself.

I am here to serve, Sir Stuka the absent mentor.

[ 04-16-2001: Message edited by: Leeo ]

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Any of you other regulars care to add my skull to your trophy wall? Send me a setup.

Elvis said:

Eat me Ellros...your name is too close to mine to interest me in any way.

Send me a setup and we'll see who has left the building smile.gif

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

Mesrs. Dalem and Herr, I am indeed from Worcester (made that post from Worcester as a matter of fact) and you have the pronunciation dead-on.<HR></BLOCKQUOTE>

Be careful of my cousins.

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Day 5 in the Pool has ended for this newbie, and I am coming to detest the vile, under-handed, mess that are Mr. Shaw's tactics. He chooses to avoid honorable combat, relying on flyboys and skulking artillery spotters. As I advance boldly forward, I am faced not with an enemy, but with artillery barrages and aircraft-delivered rockets and bombs. Lo these many turns, Mr. Shaw has succeeded in one thing: creating a parking lot of my vehicles. However, greasy plumes of smoke mark most of those vehicles. Mr. Shaw, you clearly have the morals of a $5 lady-of-the-evening (and the skills of same!). Enticing an innocent, fresh-faced, naïve newbie into the Pool and giving him this scenario to play. Be aware, that with karmic certainty, you will be repaid!

Iskander continues to whine about the lack of action. He should know that I am simply putting my troops in order, so that when the inevitable showdown occurs, I will not muddy my boots overmuch!

Speedbump

[ 04-16-2001: Message edited by: Speedbump ]

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