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Secret Weapons of the Peng Challenge


dalem

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Originally posted by rleete:

The buck definitely does not stop here.

You're weak. Weak as water.

All I need do is walk into the woods and simply demand that the deer walk up and lie down. And they do.

Pity I don't hunt deer. The bastards actually follow me around, demanding that I 'harvest' them. Annoying buggers. Venison sausage is delicious, though.

'Course, I'm a follower of the Goddess, and you're just some neo-con simp who can kill trees.

Next year, just send me the money you paid for your deer license, and I'll put it to better use by getting Dalem and Lars drunk enough to shoot each other.

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Originally posted by MrPeng:

If a centipede a pint,

and a velocipede a quart,

how much could a precipice?

It could piss as much as prescience showed it should

The centipede as ever much it could

The velocipede no measure that was found short

And questioned on capacity, they each had their retort.

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Originally posted by dalem:

How much wood

Could a Seanachai chuck

If a Seanachai took a brickbat in the windpipe?

You long for my approval. And to hit me in the throat with a brick.

My father always told me: Figure out what people want, and you can manipulate them with it.

Well, it was either my father, or Machiavelli. Me Dad made more money, so it was probably him.

Of course, it's hard to put his advice into complete execution when what people want most is to kill or maim you.

But I carry on...

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Originally posted by Moraine Sedai:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Boo Radley:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Michael Emrys:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Boo Radley:

Idiots.

Says someone who can't even spell 'competent'. What a hoot!

Right, because usually the compentent don't wait that long. (Jerry Pournelle)
Michael </font>
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Speaking of centipedes.....we are still speaking about centipedes?

One night, in Vietnam, I am lounging in my foxhole, well lounging may not be a good discription...but with the passing of time the stories soften a bit. So I'm lounging in my foxhole, there is a full moon, and everything around me has an iridescent glow to it. Its as quiet as a morgue, the only noise is made by the beating wings of some large insect flying around the area.

I notice a brief movement near the lip of my cozy foxhole..... cozy, I dont think so, but as I said before..... well anyway I notice something moving, so I peer over the edge, and I see this thing, a centipede or millipede, couldn't count the legs in the dark, it was a thick as the spring on a garage door. I took my Ka-Bar, and chopped the thing up into three pieces, all of which happily scurried off in different directions.

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Originally posted by Nidan1:

Speaking of centipedes.....we are still speaking about centipedes?

One night, in Vietnam, I am lounging in my foxhole, well lounging may not be a good discription...but with the passing of time the stories soften a bit. So I'm lounging in my foxhole, there is a full moon, and everything around me has an iridescent glow to it. Its as quiet as a morgue, the only noise is made by the beating wings of some large insect flying around the area.

I notice a brief movement near the lip of my cozy foxhole..... cozy, I dont think so, but as I said before..... well anyway I notice something moving, so I peer over the edge, and I see this thing, a centipede or millipede, couldn't count the legs in the dark, it was a thick as the spring on a garage door. I took my Ka-Bar, and chopped the thing up into three pieces, all of which happily scurried off in different directions...

...where they lived happily ever after.

THE END

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Originally posted by Elvis:

Wankers.

Hmm, a little something for the guy who deleted the v1.01 executable just a bit too early...

How sweet to be an Idiot,

As harmless as a cloud,

Too small to hide the sun,

Almost poking fun

At the warm but insecure, untidy crowd.

How sweet to be an Idiot,

And dip my brain in joy,

Children laughing at my back,

With no fear of attack,

As much retaliation as a toy.

How sweet to be an idiot. How sweet...

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I'm off to California, only a day trip but an important one as I'm up for a promotion and have an interview today!

Amuse yourselves at my expense if you like by imagining how YOU'D conduct the interview, how you imagine I'LL comport myself or by posting "Letters of Reference" to the interviewers on my behalf.

Consider it my Christmas present to you.

Joe

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Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

I'm off to California, only a day trip but an important one as I'm up for a promotion and have an interview today!

Amuse yourselves at my expense if you like by imagining how YOU'D conduct the interview, how you imagine I'LL comport myself or by posting "Letters of Reference" to the interviewers on my behalf.

Consider it my Christmas present to you.

Joe

Reference letter for Mr. Joseph "Crazy Legs" Shaw

Dec. 7th, 2004

Dear Sir or Madam or Ms. or Polyunsaturated Hermaphroditic Lifeform,

I first met Mr. Shaw back during this nations most uncivil Civil War. He was a callow boy and a beardless youth, both of whom had high aspirations of mediocrity. Toward this end, I gave him his first job as a dancer in my flea circus.

Oh, how the marks and rubes loved to watch him strut and prance! And, I think, it was his innate gracefulness that led to his eventual position as Head Mahout of the East Florida Manatee Dance Ensemble and Mortgage Banking Extravaganza.

It was here that Joe wore many hats. Not out of need, mind you, but rather because of an escalating follicle migration. They were migrating from his head to the bathtub drain.

Oh, of course you could say that he could always try a toupee, but living, as he does, on the windswept, lofty plains of Utah, they were always coming off, flying through the air, leading to headlines in some of the tabloid magazines of 'GIANT ALIEN TARANTULAS SPOTTED FLYING OVER SALT LAKE CITY'.

This is not to say that he must ALWAYS wear a hat! No, when indoors he will either wear a flowered bathing cap, or for very important meetings, a fashionably styled toupee with a chin strap.

Would Joe be right in the position you are offering? Better to ask if a camel can pass through the eye of a potato or if when a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear, will it be daylight savings time?

I hope this helps in your decision making process.

Regards,

Dr. Fancy Shmidlap,

Ph.D, D.D.S, L.S.M.F.T, P.D.Q Bach

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Originally posted by Nidan1:

Speaking of centipedes.....we are still speaking about centipedes?

One night, in Vietnam, I am lounging in my foxhole, well lounging may not be a good discription...but with the passing of time the stories soften a bit. So I'm lounging in my foxhole, there is a full moon, and everything around me has an iridescent glow to it. Its as quiet as a morgue, the only noise is made by the beating wings of some large insect flying around the area.

I notice a brief movement near the lip of my cozy foxhole..... cozy, I dont think so, but as I said before..... well anyway I notice something moving, so I peer over the edge, and I see this thing, a centipede or millipede, couldn't count the legs in the dark, it was a thick as the spring on a garage door. I took my Ka-Bar, and chopped the thing up into three pieces, all of which happily scurried off in different directions.

See? It's stuff like this that makes me wonder if people are crazy when they get all dreamy-eyed over saving jungles and rainforests - don't they know what's in there?

I mean hell's bells, who wants to save a jungle only to find out it's full of Nidan's in holes?

Bonkers, I tell ya.

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Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

I'm off to California, only a day trip but an important one as I'm up for a promotion and have an interview today!

Amuse yourselves at my expense if you like by imagining how YOU'D conduct the interview, how you imagine I'LL comport myself or by posting "Letters of Reference" to the interviewers on my behalf.

Consider it my Christmas present to you.

Joe

The Interview

Interviewer: Mr. Shaw, spelt but not bolded, I understand you are up for a promotion...

*Joe quickly stops scratching, pauses, and decides against sniffing... *

Joe:"Why yes sir, that I am..."

Interviewer: So can you tell me in no particular terms why I should choose you over the multitudes of other candidates that are equally qualified... Candidates like, say, Joe the Cat? Hmmm???

Joe: Well, I never eat centipedes... and I too have my very own toothbrush...

Interviewer: I see. Next question. The mortgage banking industry is governed by a great deal of legal strictures... Do you or do you not believe in the Order of Law?

Joe: By Law, would you mean something like Rules? Aah rules... Why yes sir, yes I do. You see, the rules are the only things that keep chaos at bay. Yes, if we did not have rules, what would happen to my beloved Cesspool? Odious scum sucking newbies posting all over the place... no proper challenges... insults to the Ladies... cats and dogs living together... Rules. I live for rules... In fact, just last week I had to play my role of Justiciar yet again...

Interviewer: Excuse me... you had a role as a carrot? Was this your child's school play?

Joe: No, not a carrot... I was in the role of Just-i-ciar again

Interviewer: So you were a car in your child's school play?

Joe: No no no... a Justiciar. You know, a high judicial officer in medieval England...

Interviewer: Oh. Medieval England you say? Aren't you a bit old to be running around playing Monty Python...

* at that moment, the door to the interview room would burst open, and three figures enter wearing old red robes, two tall and one of more gnomish stature*

Joe: *eep*

Peng: NOBODY expects the Cesspool Inquisition... Our chief weapon is The Brick... The Brick and Coventry... Coventry and The Brick... Our two weapons are Coventry and The Brick...

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My Mother, Nancy, trod this Earth with a determined will and powerful mind. She did many things to change many peoples lives for the better. She was also among my best friends, and I love her dearly.

She died peacefully early yesterday morning with me holding her hand.

Nancy, April 24, 1939-December 6,2004.

Turns out eventually.

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