Can You Articulate Exactly WHY you Challenge Peng?

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by dalem:

And congrats to you and your sister Seanachai.

We will toast her good fortune on Saturday. Even if Papa Khann can't make it, you and Lars & I can.

Papa Khann will never let us down. We're like gods to him. Where would I be without my Papa Khann, I ask you?

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by Leeo:

Goddamit! I love you guys (feckin' vodka! I knew it would be my undoing).

Leeo has shown us all the way. Let us now review our blessings.

Bless the Cesspoolers, Oh Thou That May or May Not Be. Bless them each singly, and together. Bless their many dependents, including girlfriends, boyfriends, wives, children, beloved relatives, pets, bartenders, waitresses, and bail-bondsmen.

Bless them as a group of annoying individuals, and as the industry that they represent.

Bless the songs they love, the spirits they drink, the food they eat, and the thistles.

Bless their taunts,their curses, their mockery, and their laughter. Bless the Squires, the Knights, the Seniour Knights, and, most of all, dear Potentially Holy Almighty, bless the SSNs, without whom all of this would not have been necessary.

Bless the Goodalers. Bless the Outerboarders. Bless the Moderators, who have caused us to lie down with the lamb, and the lion, and who show up on cue to clean up after both.

Bless, by dint of your strength and ultimate goodness, the Australians. Bless the sodding Kiwis. Accept, Oh Ultimate Being, the blessing of the fecking Finns. Bless the 'Freedom Nation' that was formerly known as France. Bless the Argentineans. Bless the sodding Limeys. Bless the Canadians, eh? Bless the South Africans. Bless the Spanish. Bless the Belgians. Bless those bastards, the Dutch. Bless the Asians (sorry, Oh Lord, but bless them en masse, as we Westerners can't tell them apart). Bless the goddamn Swedes. Also, possibly, the Norwegians and the Danes. Bless the Poles. Bless the Latvians. Bless All the Peoples of the World. And Bless the Americans, Lord, because otherwise they'll send an airstrike right up you holy bum, because they're the World's Only SuperPower. They, if anyone does, needs your blessing most of all.

Bless them each and every one, Oh Lord.

Bless the Irish whisky. And the Single Malt Scotch, and the Rum, and the Vodka. Bless the beer, Oh Lord, and keep it coming! Bless the wine (well, hell, you always bless the wine, now don't you?). Bless Boggs' peace pipe, and bless the Bo Tree, Oh Lord.

Bless the Ladies, Lord. Be they tough as nails, or soft as a prayer. Or both together. And they always are.

Bless the soldiers who fight for what they believe, and bless those who believe that soldiers should never fight again. And bless the idea that one day they'll all meet for a really great barbecue and kegger.

Bless those who believe in you, Oh Lord, and those who don't, and those who're a bit conflicted on both points, but believe that it never hurts to believe in something, even if all they believe in is belief.

And finally, Supreme Inconsistency and Possible Master of the Universe, bless Peng, who is my buddy, and Berli who is also my buddy, and if you've got a spare moment, and I haven't been all that fecking annoying lately, maybe give me a bit of a nod, as it were. And bless this space, that isn't otherwise worth a randy ****e in the big scheme of things, but makes me somewhat happy.

Oh, and bless Boo, God. Because thuggish henchmen are starting to be at a premium, what with the economic recovery passing over everyone who didn't actually need it. And I'm not spending a penny more on thuggishness than I've already put down, thank you very much.

[Papa Khann]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

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

And congrats to you and your sister Seanachai.

We will toast her good fortune on Saturday. Even if Papa Khann can't make it, you and Lars & I can.

Papa Khann will never let us down. We're like gods to him. Where would I be without my Papa Khann, I ask you? </font>

[Seanachai]

Oh, Joy incarnate. I shall spend Saturday night with the Minnesota Miscreants.

Wait a mo'...

They're a lot of pillocking tossers!

Oh, well. They make me happy. So I shall recite to you all a story:

harp music throughout

Now it's said and said truly

of the hero Finn MacCool

that if one day goes by

without his name being mentioned

the world will surely come to an end.

So judging by the ways things have been going

its lucky that I'm mentioning him here tonight

Finn was a great hero all together

and it was said of Finn MacCool's generosity

that his house was the stranger's home

and if the leaves of the forests of the world were red gold

and the waters of the world white silver

Finn would have given them all away.

Well Finn was hunting once

he was very fond of hunting,

and why wouldn't he love it,

his own nephews were hunting dogs under enchantment

boys under enchantment as hounds, you know

the greatest hunting dogs in the world they were

and their names were Bran and Skilaine

But its not the story of Bran and Skilaine

that I'm telling you tonight —

'though I do know it

Finn was out hunting one time, and he had with him

one of his greatest friends

a man by the name of Conan Maoile

That means Conan the Bald

They called him Conan the bald

for he had no hair on his head

but had that much on his back and his legs and his arms

that they used to shave him once a week

and all the stockings and gloves of all of the heroes

that Finn had with him ever wore

were made out of wool from Conan Maoile.

Conan Maoile — he never saw an open door

but he thought it his duty to walk through it

he never saw a man frown

but he thought it his duty to strike him

but it's not the story of Conan that I'm telling you tonight.

Finn had with him this time

also another great hero by the name

Diarmuid of the Love Spot.

and Diarmuid had a mark on his face

and he had to keep that covered with his hat

For if any woman saw it

she would fall passionately in love with him.

And he was one of the greatest hunters in the world

but he would never hunt wild boar

but it's not the story of Diarmuid that I'm telling you.

These three men they were hunting one time

In the island of Erin

Erin that is in the Clyde

God bless and keep it for ever

Maybe they were hunting the white stag of Erin

but whatever they were hunting they did not catch it

but the dark of the night caught them

hungry, weary and far from home.

They saw a wee light twinkling in the distance

twinkling and winking away across the moors

and they made their way towards that light

then knocked on that door...

and the door creaked open

and there on the steps was an old man

with long white hair down to the heels of his feet

and long white eyebrows like brushes,

he looked up to them and he said

'Oh I see you standing there in the pouring rain

but you'll just behave yourselves like gentlemen

if you're going to come into my house

I'll have no shenanigans from the likes of you."

Well Conan looked at Finn

and Finn looked at Diarmuid

and very surprised they were to hear

themselves spoken to so harshly

by this little sprig of man

sprig of an old man

and them the highest heroes in the land

and they followed him meek enough

into his front room.

And there was a wee white goat

frisking about that room

and the old man said

will you just tether this white goat

to that hook on the wall

and he handed Conan a long grass rope

and he left the room.

Well Conan tried to tether that white goat

but he couldn't get near it

Diarmuid tried and Finn himself after him

but not one of them did better then the other

till at last the old man came back into the room

and he tethered that goat

as easy as you take one step after another.

It was at this time that a beautiful young woman

came into the room as well

a very very beautiful young woman,

and not to make too long a tale out of it

for her hair was like the midnight

and her eyes were like the morning,

not to make too long a tale of it

they were all smitten with love for her —

or something like it.

And Diarmuid, whom all women loved,

said to her 'bright pulse of my heart

and apple of my whole understanding

how can I ever pass one lonely hour of my life

in the absence of your sweet company?'

and other such things

that young men say on these occasions.

But with an angry flash of her eyes

she spun on her heels and left the room

saying 'truly once I was once your's

and little enough you cared for me then'

well she slammed the door behind her

and was gone

and there's little enough sleep they got that night

for pure curiosity.

And in the morning before they took their leave

Finn said to the old man

'Sir, why was it

that you could tether the white goat

that none of us could catch

and why was it you spoke so sternly to us,

the highest heroes in the land

and why was it that beautiful young woman spoke so harshly to Diarmuid,

saying that once she had been his

and he had cared not for her then,

for truly neither he nor we

have ever seen her before

and what is her name, at all?

And the old man said

'Her name — is Youth

and there's little enough

that any of you cared for her

while she was yours

until she was gone

and the name of the wee white goat

is the World

and there's none can bind that but me.

and my name — is Death.

Finn In the Old Man's House

-Robin Williamson

[Speedy]

Originally posted by dalem:

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

I don't think I ever fully appreciated the Australian gift for poetry.

And I think I still don't.

Wow. You learn something new every day.

Not only can Australians read, but they have also apparently mastered electricity.

Wow. Next you'll tell me that they've discovered running water.

-dale </font>

[Herr Oberst]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

Oh, and let me remind you, lest you forget, that I've beaten you like a gong in every game you've bothered to finish...

*sigh* Yes, we all have our crosses to bear... I suppose that the concept of self-sacrifice is beyond your ken, or have you ever considered the fact that I might just be losing these matches on purpose... that the old Boy Scout training of "Do a good turn daily, 'cause God knows Seanachai needs one" could be the cause of your victories?

It is that same sentiment which provided you several heartfelt "Hallmark card" moments as delivered by the postman what seems aeons ago... sadly the post office balked at my attempt to send a live poisonous reptile through the mail...

Consider those victories a boon. Just so that I can provide you the smallest brief glimmer of hope in your otherwise wretched life and cause you to go onwards... such a small sacrifice on my part to save a miniscule portion of a tree which would otherwise surely be used in a newspaper to hold your obituary... such a waste of a tree... I can't bear the thought...

Kaa

P.S.: Great news about your sis...

[Noba]

So what IS it with these "out-of-the-woodwork-partimers" lately?

First Moriaty gets bitten by something that woke him up, and makes him post again... now Her-Oh Blast! flops hisself down in front of a device that he can barely comprehend, (to read the MS-MD sheet that the previous occupant obviously would have had to have left)... and foists his pathetic musings upon us all. Place is gone to ruin. You low number types are really Neandertals. Your time is past. Begone.

It's bad enough putting up with Shaw. (Although we can be thankfull in his case that 'road trips' are frequent).

Noba.

[Lars]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

harp music throughout

Finn was out hunting one time, and he had with him

one of his greatest friends

a man by the name of Conan Maoile

That means Conan the Bald

They called him Conan the bald

for he had no hair on his head

but had that much on his back and his legs and his arms

that they used to shave him once a week

and all the stockings and gloves of all of the heroes

that Finn had with him ever wore

were made out of wool from Conan Maoile.

Folk music is just soooo sick and wrong.

[stikkypixie]

Originally posted by Lars:

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

harp music throughout

Finn was out hunting one time, and he had with him

one of his greatest friends

a man by the name of Conan Maoile

That means Conan the Bald

They called him Conan the bald

for he had no hair on his head

but had that much on his back and his legs and his arms

that they used to shave him once a week

and all the stockings and gloves of all of the heroes

that Finn had with him ever wore

were made out of wool from Conan Maoile.

Folk music is just soooo sick and wrong. </font>

[Boo Radley]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

Oh, and bless Boo, God. Because thuggish henchmen are starting to be at a premium.

Funny you should mention that. Since the whole "Thuggish henchman' role has taken off, I've decided to incorporate. I'm calling us "Thuggish Henchmen R Us". I'm working on an advertising program right now. Maybe go with something about thuggish henchmen through the ages (I'm just spitballin' here, you understand), start with Romans whipping and scouging (very Mel Gibson), attribute the phrase "Going medieval on yo ass" to us and bring it right up to Bush and the whole SwiftBoat thingy.

I'll have price breakdowns for whatever you might want us to break down.

I'm even going to hire a cadre of qualified thuggish-like henchmen to be on call 24-7. Dress them all in black T-shirts and jeans with black sneakers...that kind of thing. Make us look even more evil, as it were.

I was even going to hire rleete and then give his job to a bunch of undernourished Sri Lankans just to piss him off.

I've thought this through.

[Nidan1]

in this proud land we grew up strong

we were wanted all along

I was taught to fight, taught to win

I never thought I could fail

no fight left or so it seems

I am a man whose dreams have all deserted

I've changed my face, I've changed my name

but no one wants you when you lose

don't give up

'cos you have friends

don't give up

you're not beaten yet

don't give up

I know you can make it good

though I saw it all around

never thought I could be affected

thought that we'd be the last to go

it is so strange the way things turn

drove the night toward my home

the place that I was born, on the lakeside

as daylight broke, I saw the earth

the trees had burned down to the ground

don't give up

you still have us

don't give up

we don't need much of anything

don't give up

'cause somewhere there's a place

where we belong

rest your head

you worry too much

it's going to be alright

when times get rough

you can fall back on us

don't give up

please don't give up

'got to walk out of here

I can't take anymore

going to stand on that bridge

keep my eyes down below

whatever may come

and whatever may go

that river's flowing

that river's flowing

moved on to another town

tried hard to settle down

for every job, so many men

so many men no-one needs

don't give up

'cause you have friends

don't give up

you're not the only one

don't give up

no reason to be ashamed

don't give up

you still have us

don't give up now

we're proud of who you are

don't give up

you know it's never been easy

don't give up

'cause I believe there's the a place

there's a place where we belong

Peter Gabriel 1986

[MrSpkr]

Wonderful news about your sister, Seanachai. I hope she recovers from her present illness as quickly as possible.

You, however, are still a git (and you forgot to ask for God's blessings on Texans, and faux-Texasn, even though we don't really need them because Oklahoma and Texas are God's Country, but still).

Steve

[Papa Khann]

Originally posted by MrSpkr:

... even though we don't really need them because Oklahoma and Texas are God's Country...

Of course they are. Who else would want them?

And even in God's case, it's plausible that God is only accepting them so that he/she/it can claim exclusive rights to them. That way God can auction them off to an another deity (admittedly, it will take a deity that hasn't toured this part of the cosmos much) at a universe fire sale. Most likely right after life as we know it on this planet ends.

With some luck, perhaps God will decide not to wait and just pack all you tossers off to the highest bidder now...

Papa

[Boo Radley]

Originally posted by Nidan1:

(Song snipped for the sake of brevity)

Peter Gabriel 1986

I can see you singing Kate Bush's part.

Quite fetching.

[Yeknodathon]

[enters from the gloom, dramatically, with ears flailing in wide, sweeping arcs and a wierd, nasal squeak]

Out on the wiley, windy moors

We'd roll and fall in green.

You had a temper like my jealousy:

Too hot, too greedy.

How could you leave me,

When I needed to possess you?

I hated you. I loved you, too.

Bad dreams in the night.

You told me I was going to lose the fight,

Leave behind my wuthering, wuthering

Wuthering Heights.

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I´m so cold!

Let me in-a-your window.

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I´m so cold!

Let me in-a-your window.

Oooooooooooooooooooh, it gets dark! It gets lonely,

On the other side from you.

I pine a lot. I find a lot

Falls through without you.

I'm coming back, love.

Cruel Seanachai, my one dream,

My only master.

Too long I roam in the night.

I'm coming back to his side, to put it right.

I'm coming home to wuthering, wuthering,

Wuthering Heights,

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I´m so cold!

Let me in-a-your window.

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I´m so cold!

Let me in-a-your window.

Oooooooooooooooooooooooooh! *snort* *honk* *snort* Let me have it.

Let me grab your red, pointy hat away.

Ooh! Let me have it.

Let me grab your red, pointy hat away.

You know it's me-- a donkey!

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I'm so cold!

Let me in-a-your window.

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I´m so cold!

Let me in-a-your window.

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I´m so cold!

Seanachai, it's me-- a donkey.

I've come home. I'm so cold!

AHHHHHHH YAAAAA YAAAA OHHHH YAAAAAAA *honk* *honk* *snort* *honk*

[Jim Boggs]

Stupid Donkey!!

Just use the door like everybody else.

I swear, get your bum all puckered up and your brain stops working.

Hmmmm....

Must be some internal connection...

[Hiram Sedai]

http://www.armorama.com/modules/photopost/data/500/4718PershingSide.jpg

[Boo Radley]

Oh, goody! Let's have us a Kate Bush marathon!

And now, a song for Mace.

And dream of sheep

Little light shining,

Little light will guide them to me.

My face is all lit up,

My face is all lit up.

If they find me racing white horses,

They'll not take me for a boy.

Let me be weak,

Let me sleep

And dream of sheep.

"Attention shipping information in sea areas...Bell Rock, Tiree,

Cromaty, gale east...Malin, Sellafield..."

"Come here with me now."

Oh, I'll wake up

To any sound of engines,

Ev'ry gull a seeking craft.

I can't keep my eyes open--

Wish I had my radio.

I tune in to some friendly voices

Talking 'bout stupid things.

I can't be left to my imagination.

Let me be weak,

Let me sleep

And dream of sheep.

Ooh, their breath is warm

And they smell like sleep,

And they say they take me home.

Like poppies heavy with seed

They take me deeper and deeper.

Now those are lyrics that'll make you stop and think.

And then be very noisily ill.

[Leeo]

Originally posted by Hiram Sedai:

http://www.armorama.com/...

Egads, Hiram, I didn't know you'd perfected the shrinking ray! Well, judging by the size of your brain I should've guessed, but...

[Joe Shaw]

I have returned from the wilds of Albaqueque, triumphant but weary. Now I work, tonight I work for tomorrow I must drive the daughter to Logan, Utah, those two hours away so that she can partake of a mandatory training session for her job when she returns to school.

So my joy at returning is tempered by the work I must do tonight (when I get off the board that is) and the knowledge that I must travel again tomorrow regardless of the workload piling up.

And what do I find ... I find Seanachai blessing the ENTIRE WORLD, to include, for the luv of GAWD the SSNs ... and not a single word for ... The Justicar of the Peng Challenge Thread.

So I slink off to my work ... sad and disconsolate ... but warmed by the knowledge that ... that ... oh the hell with it ... SOB.

Joe

[Jim Boggs]

And a wise move it is Joe.

Work. Good Hard Work.

Does a body good.

Loosens the sinews.

Dampens the blow of complete and utter rejection.

Yes, work.

Good idea Joe.

[Leeo]

I and my Vodka are back. Oh, the scathing remarks I will make. The mighty will tremble! The lowly shall quiver. The disconsolate shall find hope. The incontinent will find dryness. The sheep shall quiver anew. And the SSNs, my friends, shall shirk their duty to renew us. After that, I take a long freakin' nap.

[Moriarty]

Originally posted by Noba:

So what IS it with these "out-of-the-woodwork-partimers" lately?

First Moriaty gets bitten by something that woke him up, and makes him post again... now Her-Oh Blast! flops hisself down in front of a device that he can barely comprehend, (to read the MS-MD sheet that the previous occupant obviously would have had to have left)... and foists his pathetic musings upon us all. Place is gone to ruin. You low number types are really Neandertals. Your time is past. Begone.

It's bad enough putting up with Shaw. (Although we can be thankfull in his case that 'road trips' are frequent).

Noba.

Somebody has to lead the way. Obviously this lot needs direction.

[Leeo]

It seems I have a penchant to snore.

[dalem]

Originally posted by Boo Radley:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Nidan1:

(Song snipped for the sake of brevity)

Peter Gabriel 1986

I can see you singing Kate Bush's part.

Quite fetching. </font>