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Peng Challenges the Minnesota Miscreants For The Wild Card Playoffs!


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Meeks, ye festerin' boil ain a pigmy hippo's laift nostrril. Sae, ye've cam snivellin' back at lang last, hopin' tha ye had ootstayed ye flame-throwin' nemesis OberGruppenBloodyStompinSicFeuhrerBastardABCDJimmy! Waill, feckin' HA!! tae yoo mon! Ah may bae busier than a one-laigged frog ain a snake pit (noo tae bae confused wi' a frog ain a stankin' bucket), but Ah'll see yoo Jimmy ain tha feckin' feild o' battle whain ye gi' ye poxy sailf organized.

Gi' mae conscript troops ain mah squire match wi' Hiram (Knock! Knock! Feck off, Ah alrraidy go' some) Sedai wid ye!?

Pillock.

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Peng, you rotton SOB, don't you dare vomit at my return--it's so... gauche. I tell you, man, I walked through pits of hell and climbed across miles of barren dessert (And even ate hectares of barren desert) and swam through the festering gobbiness of a hundred tons of rusty scaffolding just to be here, with you, right now!

!!

And this is the thanks I get?! A couple of malignant growth references (Real original, guys; proving again that Boo Radley is just OGSF when he takes his sanity medication*) and some vomiting and a goddamned monologue by the ice-blooded one about my goddamned failings**? I mean, Christ, you people and your psychological need to torment and destroy people, to flay open there psychic flesh and play chopsticks on their very soul, to corrupt and wallow with such single-minded, robotic adandon. It makes me want to weep at the beauty of it all. It's so good to be back. Well, except for that sticky thing, I don't likes it, not one bit. It smells like YK2 covered in a glazed sauce made of bad earth-worship.

Soon, soon it'll be a time of reckoning, when all the old debts are called in, with interest, compounded against and back-dated and with a couple a oh's tacked on, one for OGSF, another for "Oh ****, I wish I'd appreciated my time in the Pool when I, but a little fish, was not constantly reminded of my inferiority by that great shining beacon of ubermenschitude known as Meeks was around".

Speaking of Mormon-wife-whoring, genetic retrograding, pea-eating, horseshoe-ing, wumpus-hunting, cretinous rectors of anal rectitude, where's Iosef Shaw'in?

*Sane away the day with Insansity. Brought to you by the helpful scientists at Merck, who have yet to be proven to have been inspired by Mengele and those crazy Japanese doctors in Section 227 (or somefink). Insansity, it'll clean up that nasty Scotch-type head injury in a second. Warning: Insansity has been known to cause bovine spongiform encephalitis, irritable bowel syndrome, syphaherperhea, poor posting and dementia precox.

**So, Gaius Geier, when did you become my own personal Freudian accountant, you evil-minded, soft-fisted son of a motherless goat.***

***Meant with all due respect, sir, please note that on my sentence.

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[... continuing with the analysis, now several days long...]

... of course it really didn't matter that me complex feelings were all askew. No, when one gets a right thumping complex life becomes very difficult. Take yer thistle. There it is fresh and stout in the morning sun, ripe 'n' ready for the taking, all Boo and Radley. Then *honk*! One is just consumed with an all-embracing sense of doom...

[rubber gnome slowly keels over onto its side by some hidden hand of nature]

...and then some malaise knocks on me door, steps in and makes me fungal infection flare up. Did you get that? That was very important. Do yer need a new notepad?

*sniff*

... now I'm not complaining but one really can't enjoy a morning thistle or even a Boo with an impending sense that existence is futile. I mean, what exactly is the point? I think that should be noted down... did you get that?...

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Meeks coming back to the Pool is kinda like when Vader and Obi-wan square off on the Death Star and Vader tells him he should not have come back and stuff.

Except instead of the return of a respected Jedi, we have Meeks, who is more like a pile of respected lawn clippings.

Still, for all of that, I would welcome the chance to cut him in half.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Elijah Meeks:

Peng, you rotton SOB, don't you dare vomit at my return--it's so... gauche.

SILENCE, APOSTATE!

So, back for tumpty-tumpty posts so far, and you haven't even groveled before me.

I should give you such a kicking... </font>

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Everyone here makes vomiting sound like a bad thing.

In some cultures it's a frequent and welcomed practice, and a far better alternative to the stomach pump.

Btw Meeks is getting a PhD huh?

I thought they closed down the website one could buy those things from!

Mace

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Originally posted by Mace:

Everyone here makes vomiting sound like a bad thing.

In some cultures it's a frequent and welcomed practice, and a far better alternative to the stomach pump.

Btw Meeks is getting a PhD huh?

I thought they closed down the website one could buy those things from!

Mace

He turned up with a brick, and they let him in....

Noba.

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Originally posted by Yeknodathon:

[... continuing with the analysis, now several days long...]

did you get that?...

So tell me, Mr. Donkey, how long have you had these vague and variable delusions? Have been sniffing herbs from "Special Thistle Garden" again? Have you been sniffing the rubber crotch of your gnomish effigy, again? Maybe it's the polluted water in your trough. I told you about THAT little peccadillo of yours ...

No. I can see that the only sure cure is quite easy to accomplish.

First: Ditch the rubber gnome. Ceremonially burn it, attached to a cross, on a pile of faggots.

Second: Shave all body hair. (Makes it easier at the knackery, afterwards)

Third: Leave the paddock on a dark and stormy night. Make your way to the nearest rail line. Find a suitable bridge and jump in front of the 5am express from Waterloo. (Make sure you blindfold yourself, can't have you anticipating...)

On second thoughts. Just offer your body for experimental medical science. They'll take it. Now.

Noba.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Elijah Meeks:

Peng, you rotton SOB, don't you dare vomit at my return--it's so... gauche.

SILENCE, APOSTATE!

So, back for tumpty-tumpty posts so far, and you haven't even groveled before me.

I should give you such a kicking... </font>

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What the feck is this, this… Meek (spelt?bolded?spat upon?) guy?

Coming in here mocking the Belgian (insulting that frigging wannabee-Frenchified crushed scrotum is my job), writing about make belief San Francisco (I suppose you moved to SF from Never-never-land) and its ‘university’, getting all uppity when Peng blessed his shoes with regurgitated holiness and exclaiming! all! the! fecking! time!!!

Exactly how long will it remain here?

I tell you it is a bad omen.

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Originally posted by Elijah Meeks:

English!! Do, you, speak, it?!?!

I have been known to speak a few words of English now and then.

Originally posted by Elijah Meeks:

Geh! Out, out of my house, foul pest!! Out of my family's manor and back, into the woods and darkness that spawned you, foul filth. Begone, lest your sticky (Spelled with a 'c', like your GED average!) corpse be used to mark this place off-limits to your ilk.

I don't know what a GED average is but, I'm sure I didn't work hard to get it.
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