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This is the Peng Challenge that never ends....It goes on and on my Friends....


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Yes Boo, Teeth staring. You know this strange and stupefying power, nay, ability the limeys have to walk with their nose upwards to the sky, daunty and snob, as if to say "Huf ! *I* jolly don't talk to peasants, my good man !", and, (and that's the rub of it) *staring down at you through their horse-like teeth* ?

That's "teeth staring".

Makes'em look like flaming gay inbred monkeys, the lot of 'em, but apparently, they believe it makes them look posh and distinguished. Mintreeking streaks of puke, I swear to Me.

EDIT : Lars, my good man, won't you jolly well SOD THE FECK OFF AND SEND ME MY TURN, YOU MINELAYING PANSY, if it's not too much of a bother ?

[ June 14, 2004, 11:32 AM: Message edited by: Kobal2 ]

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I knew it "He cannot possibly be this dumb" I thought, "he is probably just lonely and acts all provocative to find a new victim to stalk.

See I have this all figured out, you are very much like that bullied dreadful kid in school who used to chase all the girls around with a booger on his finger. The more they ran the more excited he was because of all the attention he was getting. Well, I can picture you now, sitting there infront of your computer with a devlish grin on your face, sweating heavily from your upper lip as you feverishly hit the refresh-button waiting for another reply from me..."your enemy".

But no, I will not be your mortal enemy Seanachai I will not give you that much attention, because I know you will only become worse after that. Sure it will start with some innocent posts in here, followed by some innocent e-cards with some hidious poem...but then the emails will start ...and eventually maybe even a setup will arrive in my inbox, a hideous setup, the kind of setup you would expect to see from someone who never ever played CM but instead works full-day as a tender of stillborn sheep... The kind of setup where someone has bought nothing but 3 pillboxes and placed them facing the wrong way in his own bottom left corner of a huge woods-only, 90 turns, night-map...and then plays at 1 turn/week pace...just to piss the other one off when he 90 weeks later realizes he has spent 90 weeks playing pbem solitare...

But that is not enough...I know your type you liberal swine

...sooner or later, sooner or later I know you will stand outside my door dressed as a Bulgarian folk-dancer with a bottle of $5 whiskey in one hand and a sleeping bag in the other, wanting to move in with me, with vauge promises of lan games, folk-dancing and free whiskey dripping from your lips.

it aint gonna happen

so you might just as well look for another target for your perversions.

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48_6950.jpg

Hortlund was nice enough to send me this recent picture of himself, with his latest conquest from the singles bar.

Seanachai, how could you possibly consider this socially challenged, inept individual as a mortal enemy? Perhaps you have a softness for Nordic types?

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Originally posted by Leutnant Hortlund:

Shouldnt you be returning turns btw Nidan1?

Had a very busy weekend, but now the work is done, and I am free to sit on my ass in front of the computer.

Turns will go out when I get home from work this afternoon, yours however, I may hold on to for awhile, you seem to be having too much fun advancing on me. Those smiles will change to shreiking terror quite soon, I'm afraid, as my pixel GI's hunker down in their defensive positions, and range in their weapons.

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Originally posted by Leutnant Hortlund:

I knew it "He cannot possibly be this dumb" I thought, "he is probably just lonely and acts all provocative to find a new victim to stalk.

Hatred, my little lamb, is not where you find it, it's where you put it. No matter how drunk I may someday become, I always know where the hatred is.

Originally posted by Leutnant Hortlund:

See I have this all figured out, you are very much like that bullied dreadful kid in school who used to chase all the girls around with a booger on his finger. The more they ran the more excited he was because of all the attention he was getting. Well, I can picture you now, sitting there infront of your computer with a devlish grin on your face, sweating heavily from your upper lip as you feverishly hit the refresh-button waiting for another reply from me..."your enemy".

Ewww. I never ran after girls, and certainly didn't pick my nose, fer the love of God. Girls were...magical. Got all stuttery and tongue-tied, I did. Blushed, even. Haven't blushed in 40 some years. Trying to remember what it was like. Ah, I remember! It's similar to that hot and flushed feeling you sometimes get when you're ashamed! Got it.

But I was, in fact, reviled, and I was constantly beaten up. I mean, it's not like I enjoyed being punched out. I just wouldn't shut up. And after a while...people didn't want to hit you anymore. They just looked bad.

Oddly enough, there was very little satisfaction in making them stop punching you. Oh, yes, the surcease of pain was wonderful, and the look of disquiet on their faces was pleasant, and the fact that after the last punch they made lame jokes and then scrubbed their hands on their jeans like someone trying to make it all go away, and looked at their shoes, was morally uplifting, but there was very little real satisfaction in standing there, all bloody, and staring at them while they tried to laugh and make it all your fault for not being strong enough or violent enough to defend yourself. Rather like what the people who hadn't the sense to be born in the World's Only True Super Power feel, I imagine. Except that their children die, whereas I just got to make some more jokes before losing a tooth.

Sorry. You can't grow up wanting for nothing but respect without having a thought for those who have nothing. Or so I imagine.

Originally posted by Leutnant Hortlund:

But no, I will not be your mortal enemy Seanachai I will not give you that much attention, because I know you will only become worse after that.

Damn right. Don't encourage the Gnome. Bloody good policy. Haven't any fault to find with that, you Swedish bugger.

Originally posted by Leutnant Hortlund:

Sure it will start with some innocent posts in here, followed by some innocent e-cards with some hideous poem...but then the emails will start ...and eventually maybe even a setup will arrive in my inbox, a hideous setup...

Here now. The only git I've sent any of my poetry to is that bugger Emrys, but I can't be caught out there, because I've tons of his poetry to retaliate with! Don't matter that his poetry is actually rather good, and mine is...mine! What matters is, I've got it! And I can't ever remember inflicting my poetry on you, you...ummm, well, you've expressed and opinion against me calling you all sorts of vulgar and perfectly true names (haven't any of you buggers wondered what it was costing me to not swear like the horrible little man I've always been?! Even just using 'feck' is killing me...), so I won't call you anything like the progeny of an unsanctified marriage, because I imagine your...er, supposed parents were very much in love, and stood under a wonderful, doubtless Lutheran arch and declared their love for each other, and to all the world, and joined their lives together you sodding bastard.

Originally posted by Leutnant Hortlund:

the kind of setup you would expect to see from someone who never ever played CM but instead works full-day as a tender of stillborn sheep... The kind of setup where someone has bought nothing but 3 pillboxes and placed them facing the wrong way in his own bottom left corner of a huge woods-only, 90 turns, night-map...and then plays at 1 turn/week pace...just to piss the other one off when he 90 weeks later realizes he has spent 90 weeks playing pbem solitare...

Oh, well. I didn't realize you'd actually played a game against MrPeng. I've tried to put my own spin on the nightmare by only returning turns about once a month, but there's nothing that can compete for horror against that first game against Peng himself.

Mind you, I've never played a 'Ker Dessel' scenario. But no one capable of doing up the velcro straps on their 'about town' helmet has either.

Originally posted by Leutnant Hortlund:

But that is not enough...I know your type you liberal swine

...sooner or later, sooner or later I know you will stand outside my door dressed as a Bulgarian folk-dancer with a bottle of $5 whiskey in one hand and a sleeping bag in the other, wanting to move in with me, with vauge promises of lan games, folk-dancing and free whiskey dripping from your lips.

Well, yes, but that's going to happen whether you like me or not, so just get over things.

And besides, I never show up at anyone's door with less than a $40 bottle of whisky. Mind, you'll not have any of it, it's just for me, but I won't be defamed.

Now, tell me I have lovely eyes...

[ June 14, 2004, 12:32 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

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Originally posted by dalem:

ASL stands for Advanced Squad Leader.

'Dalem' stands for; Dumb Amiable Lunatic EveryMan.

What? I didn't say it was an acronym. You all just leapt to that conclusion.

In Serbo-Croat it means: 'Your zipper is undone.'

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Just wanted you all to know that through the wonders of technology, I've checked my IN box back at the "Casa De Boo" and found not one single turn in it.

I hold you all responsible singularly and as a group.

I hold you all as I would hold a venemous snake; right behind the head as I run shrieking out of the room.

I hold you all as I was forced to hold my water when the nuns FORBADE us to leave our desks until the last reverberation of the bell faded completely away.

I hold you all like a salt filled pancake laid upon the body politic of a great nation.

And I find it bitter.

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Sorry. You can't grow up wanting for nothing but respect without having a thought for those who have nothing. Or so I imagine.
You don't have to be sorry, Grampa. Them as can do, has to do for them as can't. And someone has to speak up for them as has no voices. (Of course, choosing to do so in the den of unbelievable knuckleheadedness that is the Peng is questionnable).

Oh please, please Grampa, before we go to bed, tell us another story, a real story, a story from when you was young and innocent (back in them days where you wrote the yeardate with three digits only) and had the perma-running nose all little toddlers have no matter how many sodding tissues you stuff their pockets with. Stupid brats.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

Mind you, I've never played a 'Ker Dessel' scenario.

Further proof that you're a poofter. I not only playtested them, I did so with the one and only Mensch. Yes, Mr. treefullofrats hisownself. Flampanzers at night in heavy fog. 50 zooks with one round each against a dozen PzIV's (also at night), in the rain. Ah, the good old days when jeep rushes were not only expected, but required so as to not be labeled a forking attritionist. Disparage the single decent scenario designer at your own risk.

Whatta you know. Trolling again for a mortal enema, you dottering old posterboy for the unemployable? Seems like only yesterday that I prodded and poked at you, until you blurted out hateful things to me. Damn near got yourself a time out on that one, too, if memory serves. And then got all apologetic when I turned it around on you, and made you look like the bad guy all along. (heh, heh. So easy it was.) Come into the Holy Thread (may it always be here), and I'll show you what for, you said. Wasn't the last time you went whoring on the GF and brought back something you'd caught.

Took me to squire, and I immediately bit the proffered hand. Tried and tried to kick me upstairs to Kniggit, but I refused. And you relented. Wussy. Mace's sheep show more spine.

When you were blackballed by the folks at BFC for using naughty words (did it make you feel all growed up?) who was the first to spit on your chair, and laugh at you when you couldn't respond? Who is the first one to take a shot at you when you haven't posted in a while? Which among us always flings poo, knowing you just have to respond, and usually in kind?

I'm having my boy circumcised. Shall I save you the foreskin, so you can have something usefull to aspire to? C'mon, you Olde Farte; I'm spiteful, politically incorrect, and woefully ignorant. Worse yet, you can't make me go away. Your worst nightmare is right here, and you know it. Troll all you want, I'll still be here to stab you in the back if I wish to stoop that low.

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I hate Boo,

Not for all the obvious reasons that make children, women, and incontinent men run screaming from the room;

I hate him because his sneaking, slouching stormtroopers surround simply stellar soldiers sent swiftly slinking silently southwards.

Egads, did I just alliterate? SOMEBODY SHOOT ME!

(This message brought to you be Deke Fenkle and VODKA!)

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Before stikky beats me to it:

I am an annoying no-turn sending pillock who prefers to whore it up on the MBT (and it will always be here) when everyone else is asleep. Speaking of Vodka, I tried the new 42BELOW Manuka Honey Vodka on the weekend - it was beautiful stuff! AD8.jpg

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

And after a while...people didn't want to hit you anymore.

So it does wear off after a while? I guess I'm just not there yet.

And besides, I never show up at anyone's door with less than a $40 bottle of whisky.

No, you never show up at anyone;s door without the intention of drinking a $40 bottle of whiskey. I have yet to see you bring your own though.
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Originally posted by Leeo:

there's some irony there for those smarter than I.

Anybody want to field this one? it's a freebie.

On the way in to work this morning, I was listening to Dr. John and Ricky Lee Jones sing a version of "Making Whoopie".

Very nicely done.

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