What the Peng is wrong with my Challenge Thread? (USA)

[Kobal2]

He ain't all there, is he ?

As to that one true thing, I've always smiled when hearing that old Hindu tale.

There was a time, long long ago, when the world was young, a time where all men were the equals of the Gods, sharing divine power with them. But man abused of his power so much, that the Gods became angry, and Brâhma, the Lord of Gods, decided to take away the divine part of man from him, and hide it where he would never reach it again.

He gathered his council of minor gods, to adress the question : Where should they hide it ?

One said "We shall bury it deep inside the Earth, where he will never find it", to which Brâhma answered : "No, because Man will dig, and dig, and dig again, and will find it."

Then another said "We shall throw it away in the deepest of seas, where he will never find it.", to which Brâhma answered : "No, because sooner or later, man will explore the sea, and will find it."

A third one said "We shall fling it away towards the sky, through space, to the edge of the Universe, where he will never reach it.", to which Brâhma answered : "No, because sooner or later, man will know how to fly, and will find it."

"Then what shall we do, if neither the Earth, nor the Sea, nor the Sky is the answer ?" chorused the gods.

Brâhma thought about it, then smiled a wily smile. He said "Here's what we'll do with man's divinity : we shall hide it deep inside his heart, for it is the only place where he will never think of looking for it".

And ever since then, man has traveled all around the Earth, and climbed mountains, and explored the seas, and dug the ground, always searching beyond the horizons, looking for something that's buried within himself.

Pretty little story, isn't it ?

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by Kobal2:

Pretty little story, isn't it ?

Indeed, lad, but as we both know, life isn't all pretty little stories.

But, generally speaking, the songs are good. And the stories, if told properly, lift the heart.

For the rest, there's always the combat between sad old men, and boisterous newcomers. Send us a setup, lad.

I'm thinking of beginning to play again. I've been a bit weary. But I think life is still life.

[Nidan1]

Thus we see that the all-important thing is not killing or giving life, drinking or not drinking, living in the town or the country, being lucky or unlucky, winning or losing. It is how we win, how we lose, how we live or die; finally, how we choose. We walk, and our religion is shown (even to the dullest and most insensitive person, are you getting this Boo? ), in how we walk. Living in this world means choosing, and the way we choose to walk is infallibly and perfectly expressed in the walk itself.

[ June 02, 2004, 07:14 AM: Message edited by: Nidan1 ]

[Speedy]

I always thought the all-important thing is alcohol.

[stikkypixie]

No, no, the all-important thing is always being right, even when your wrong. That and the FIFA World Cup of course.

[Lars]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

I'm a fatuous old fool, what am I, eh?

A little Gas-X will fix that old man.

In other news, dalem has been utterly smited in the rune scenario "The Most Offensive". Er, or somfink. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes.

Despite dalem's gamey use of laser sighted Stuarts and Fireflys, despite his desperate gamey first turn rush towards the town in the center with clanky troop carrying things, despite his spite, I have crushed him like he hasn't been crushed since being turned down for the prom.

By his mother.

rune, you wanted a write-up on the scenario, here it is.

Needs more cowbell.

[Jim Boggs]

Hmmmm...

I sense the presence of a Melancholy Gnome.

So a Story is what you want, very well:

Lars and the Pic of Doom

Once upon a time there was a Danish barkeep who stumbled across an ancient picture of someone who was clearly an important and noble personage. On the back of the picture was a warning stamped in bold letters:

Do not release for viewing without permission!!

Nevertheless the Dipsomaniacal Dane was so enamored of the wonder and splendor of the picture that he could not restrain his desire to share the vision of greatness with others.

Disregarding the very specific warning, Lars began showing the picture to his few friends and acquaintances. The awe and admiration that was displayed at each showing bolstered the good Dane's self-esteem to the bursting point. To have in one's posession such a wonderful piece of art was perhaps the greatest achievement of his sordid existance.

But then, things began to happen. Strange things.

Enjoying his new found fame, Lars went to dinner with several of his newly won female admirers. Carefully selecting his all-white, tailor made, Armani suit, he suited up for an evening of stimulating conversation and excellent cuisine.

After the delightful meal, he ordered coffee, as was his habit. Somehow, the coffee cup overturned, spilling the dark hot liquid squarely into his lap, the stain spreading across the entire frontal nether region of his crotch.

Embarrased, he tried to slip out unnoticed, but with little success. The other diners gawked in silence, then turned away politely to avoid laughing in his face. The humiliation was great upon him.

Arriving at his home, thoroughly dejected, he recalled the warning from the picture. He shook his head and banished the thought from his mind.

The next day, while performing his morning relief, the toilet seat mysteriously came crashing down in mid-stream, splattering him with the yellow stain of regret. Quickly changing his clothes, he set off to work. Enroute, his car began hissing and blowing steam from under the hood, before finally coming to a halt, miles from the nearest town.

Now Lars once again remembered the warning he had so callously disregarded. While looking in the trunk for a tool with which to fix his car, he accidently spilled a quart jar of honey on his pants. Cursing his misfortune, he grabbed a towel and began wiping the gooey mess, only to see it spread into an even larger stain.

Then he heard it. The sound of wild Alsatian pigs, come looking for breakfast. Running with all his might, Lars raced to the nearest tree and barely managed to make it to the first row of branches before the wild pigs arrived and surrounded the base of the tree. Snorting and rooting as pigs are want to do, they settled in for the siege.

"Why, oh why did I ignore that warning?" the suddenly very scared Dane asked himself. "How can things get any worse?"

Then, from the edge of the clearing came the clear deep-throated growl of a very angry and very hungry bear. The pigs ran off squealing with fear as the giant bear ambled up to the base of the tree.

Lars knew now that there was no escape. Soon, he would be just another light snack, (albeit very sweet thanks to the honey), for the ravenous bear.

He looked to the heavens and begged forgiveness for ignoring the sacred warning etched on the ancient picture. He closed his eyes and felt all around him going dark and dank.

Awaking with a start, Lars sat bolt upright in his bed, sweat dripping from his furrowed brow. It had only been a horrible dream.

Or had it been a final warning?

Lars took the picture and once again read the warning on the back.

He had been given a second chance at life. The picture remained unpublished and unseen. Clearly there was much danger involved in the unauthorized viewing of it's wonder.

Given this reprieve, Lars knew what he had to do.

[Lars]

Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

Given this reprieve, Lars knew what he had to do.

Publish and be damned.

[Kobal2]

So, this picture is kind of like those chain-letters, those who mention that "If you break the chain, your wife will run away with your sister, your dog will eat your children, you'll catch smallpox, your penis will become gangrenous and your lawyer will grin at you in a calculating way" ?

Lars, watcha waiting for ?

[Jim Boggs]

Originally posted by Lars:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

Given this reprieve, Lars knew what he had to do.

Publish and be damned. </font>

[Snarker]

Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Lars:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

Given this reprieve, Lars knew what he had to do.

Publish and be damned. </font>

[Boo Radley]

Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Lars:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

Given this reprieve, Lars knew what he had to do.

Publish and be damned. </font>

[Speedy]

News just to hand the evil Lars and his horde of smelly Germans have eked out a tiny little victory against my assaulting squad of UBERless Aussies.

This is obviously a major bug in the game system, BTS please fix or do somefink!

[dalem]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

Do you know, there's always something to be learned, always something to be gained. I'm a fatuous old fool, what am I, eh? Rleete mocks me, all abuse me. But I remember...everything.

Bah! You can't even remember to not be such a towering stack of idiocy half the time.

[Boo Radley]

Is he indeed a towering stack?

And don't you owe me a move?

And doesn't Boggsy owe me a set up?

And don't you all owe me a debt of gratitude for being the wonderful person that I am?

[Joe Shaw]

Originally posted by Boo Radley:

Is he indeed a towering stack?

And don't you owe me a move?

And doesn't Boggsy owe me a set up?

And don't you all owe me a debt of gratitude for being the wonderful person that I am?

Now see that was my thought as well ... not the part about the wonderful person, you CLEARLY intended to say "the wonderful person that Joe Shaw is" ... no problem, you were blanking.

No I was questioning the Towering Stack. A slumping heap perhaps, an untidy mound, a steaming pile naturally comes to mind but a towering stack ... I think not.

And speaking of turns being owed ... {Joe taps foot impatiently.

Joe

[dalem]

To be sure, the physical manifestation of The Seanachai that we see as a 3-dimensional extrusion of quavering ineptitude is a lumpy, short, and gnomish thing. But the full gigantitude of The Seanachai that extends throughout multiple dimensions is indeed huge. Current theories predict that the sheer immensity of The Seanachai's decrepit uselessness will soon threaten to eclipse even the power of persiflagiosity.

[Joe Shaw]

Originally posted by dalem:

To be sure, the physical manifestation of The Seanachai that we see as a 3-dimensional extrusion of quavering ineptitude is a lumpy, short, and gnomish thing. But the full gigantitude of The Seanachai that extends throughout multiple dimensions is indeed huge. Current theories predict that the sheer immensity of The Seanachai's decrepit uselessness will soon threaten to eclipse even the power of persiflagiosity.

Sheer twaddle dalem, twaddle wrapped in psuedo-scientific gobbledegook that MIGHT fool an outerboarder but will fool no one HERE ... with the exception of Jim Boggs of course.

Seanachai is, at best, an odiferous, malformed heap shot through with voids and impurities ... I'll brook no dissent on this lad.

Joe

[dalem]

You are demonstrating that The Seanachai is strong in you, Joe.

[MrSpkr]

Originally posted by dalem:

You are demonstrating that The Seanachai is strong in you, Joe.

That's a bloody awful mental image, dale.

Thanks for waiting until AFTER lunch to post it.

Steve

[Jim Boggs]

Originally posted by dalem:

To be sure, the physical manifestation of The Seanachai that we see as a 3-dimensional extrusion of quavering ineptitude is a lumpy, short, and gnomish thing. But the full gigantitude of The Seanachai that extends throughout multiple dimensions is indeed huge. Current theories predict that the sheer immensity of The Seanachai's decrepit uselessness will soon threaten to eclipse even the power of persiflagiosity.

Brilliantly expounded. Concisely edited. Word for word one of the most powerful examples of pure and vivid persiflagiosity I have seen in print anywhere in the civilized word.

It is an honor to bear the rake of the utterer of these noble words.

[Joe Shaw]

Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by dalem:

To be sure, the physical manifestation of The Seanachai that we see as a 3-dimensional extrusion of quavering ineptitude is a lumpy, short, and gnomish thing. But the full gigantitude of The Seanachai that extends throughout multiple dimensions is indeed huge. Current theories predict that the sheer immensity of The Seanachai's decrepit uselessness will soon threaten to eclipse even the power of persiflagiosity.

Brilliantly expounded. Concisely edited. Word for word one of the most powerful examples of pure and vivid persiflagiosity I have seen in print anywhere in the civilized word.

It is an honor to bear the rake of the utterer of these noble words. </font>

[dalem]

Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by dalem:

To be sure, the physical manifestation of The Seanachai that we see as a 3-dimensional extrusion of quavering ineptitude is a lumpy, short, and gnomish thing. But the full gigantitude of The Seanachai that extends throughout multiple dimensions is indeed huge. Current theories predict that the sheer immensity of The Seanachai's decrepit uselessness will soon threaten to eclipse even the power of persiflagiosity.

Brilliantly expounded. Concisely edited. Word for word one of the most powerful examples of pure and vivid persiflagiosity I have seen in print anywhere in the civilized word.

It is an honor to bear the rake of the utterer of these noble words. </font>

[Jim Boggs]

Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Jim Boggs:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by dalem:

To be sure, the physical manifestation of The Seanachai that we see as a 3-dimensional extrusion of quavering ineptitude is a lumpy, short, and gnomish thing. But the full gigantitude of The Seanachai that extends throughout multiple dimensions is indeed huge. Current theories predict that the sheer immensity of The Seanachai's decrepit uselessness will soon threaten to eclipse even the power of persiflagiosity.

Brilliantly expounded. Concisely edited. Word for word one of the most powerful examples of pure and vivid persiflagiosity I have seen in print anywhere in the civilized word.

It is an honor to bear the rake of the utterer of these noble words. </font>

[dalem]

Hmm. Apparently Joe's increasing powers of The Seanachai are even more disturbing than previously thought. According to my agents, he has the power to choke the life out of a conversation from across the room, and can control his own lung capacity for vast amounts of hot air.