Speedy Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Mace: On behalf of my sheep, Grue and I. Oh and that Queensland place I'm supposed to rule, I pledge alegiance to her most royal highness, Emma that Scot shiela. Long may she rule. I look forward to her proclamations...and her most royal braces. and the Royal wine partaking. Oh and if she doesn't mind...a Dukedom would be nice. Perhaps Australia? Duke Mace. It does have a nice sound to it. Your Majesty *bows and grovels* Mace Your Majesty, may I make the humble suggestion that you award Mace with a Dukedom befitting his station. Personally I think making him Duke of Broadmeadows would be most appropriate. Your humble and adoring servant, Speedy [ November 03, 2003, 12:42 AM: Message edited by: Speedy ] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mace Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Aces_and_8's: Thankee Hey Aces and 8s, a query if I may? Is licking batteries a prerequisite for being a Marine Corps Officer? Originally posted by Berlichtingen: </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by PondScum: Berli can smile? </font> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speedy Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 God Dammit, isn't that Victorian province 'Queensland' enough for you? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mace Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Of course not. Mace Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Speedy Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Hey it's 2AMish on the thread and there is no sign of Seanachai? Do you think he's OD'ed? Or is he just hiding from us Aussies? [ November 03, 2003, 02:42 AM: Message edited by: Speedy ] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mace Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Speedy: Or is he just hiding from us Aussies? I think we put the fear of Berli in him. PS Got that game yet? Mace Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Noba Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by YK2: Congratulations Grandad Noba ... Here... Chucks a bag of very large gold coins to Noba .. Enjoy your day .. Why, thankyou my Fair Queen. That coinage will certainly make wetting the baby's head a loooong drawn out affair. To the rest of your well wishings, I thank you. (my Daughter has but little knowledge of your [sHUDDER] esteemed [/sHUDDER] selves, and I intend to keep keep her blissfully unaware of THE TRUTH). Meanwhile, it should be noted that Boo Radley has not mentioned that in our lastly completed fracas that he did only manage a measley tactical win, after squandering an immense amount of troops and ordnance that the Motherland graciously gave him. I believe the incompetence meter was so far off the scale that the local Commissar couldn't figure out to shoot him, or cry. Grandpa Noba. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Noba: Meanwhile, it should be noted that Boo Radley has not mentioned that in our lastly completed fracas that he did only manage a measley tactical win, after squandering an immense amount of troops and ordnance that the Motherland graciously gave him. I believe the incompetence meter was so far off the scale that the local Commissar couldn't figure out to shoot him, or cry. Grandpa Noba. Boo says "Poo on you". The first 60 seconds of my attack was brilliant! Brilliant, I say. If it all went south upon meeting the enemy, well, you have to accept these little life lessons... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Leeo Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 All Hail Her Royal Highness Fair Emma !! May her reign be long and glorious. Coleslaw for everyone! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lars Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Ah, Seanachai, bringing misery everywhere you go.... Warning: he'll knock £500 off the value of your home It is the subject of ridicule and jibes over taste, but now the garden gnome has suffered a fresh blow with a new study that claims its presence in a garden can knock £500 off the value of the house.Should have seen what he's done for urban decay in Minneapolis. In other news, having a wee little e-mail problem... SSN Hint Of The Day: Bring 85 things to the dressing room. Now sod off. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SirReal Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Boo Radley: Boo says "Poo on you". Your poetry skills are even worse than your pixeltruppen leadership, which is saying a lot. /SirReal Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Boo Radley Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by SirReal: </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Boo Radley: Boo says "Poo on you". Your poetry skills are even worse than your pixeltruppen leadership, which is saying a lot. /SirReal </font> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
SirReal Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Boo Radley: I don't see you making any mad dashes for the VL there, Sparky. Why's that? Could it possibly be that I have all your little Borsht-breathed Neanderthals pinned down? Could be. And is your E-mail fixed yet, Bubba? My email was fixed 12 posts and a page ago, Bubba. Is your reading skills on the decline already? Since my hamsterspanking skills are unequalled, it was only a matter of time before it was fixed. Unfortunately they were hiding this time, so I had to find them before I could get them pedalling again. /SirReal Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
BFCElvis Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Wankers. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
dalem Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Elvis: Wankers. Is your sig E.C. quote supposed to be "...cirles" or "...circles"? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lurkur Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Over the weekend my wife, who is recovering from bronchitis and pneumonia, gave me the option of playing Scrabble or else. I've seen else and wisely decided to play Scrabble. The first four letters that I drew spelled "PENG". I don't know how you did it, but you will all pay. Lurk Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lars Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 But did she let you use it for that triple word score? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lurkur Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Lars: But did she let you use it for that triple word score? Alas, no. She insisted that "Peng" was not a real word. in her weakened condition, I didn't have the heart to tell her the truth. [ November 03, 2003, 02:19 PM: Message edited by: Lurkur ] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mouse Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Berlichtingen: Attend me, swine! Meeks has failed Us. We, by divine mandate, dethrown the bastard Now, swine, bow down (you! face in the dirt!) and do homage to your Queen! Give praise that We bring before you a glorious Queen to tread upon your worthless backs. All Hail Her Mutha Beautiful Majesty, The Faire Emma. Upon first read of the new title, I was expecting pictures of Peng in drag or sumfink... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Buzzsaw Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 And now, the final chapter in The Adventures of Serf Buzzsaw in the Hermit Kingdom. Ohhhh, the cruel and unnatural things that the slave drivers made me do with their box of enchanted sand! How could an instrument of such joy in my homeland, a portal to both the Cesspool and countless hours of Combat Mission rapture, be twisted into such a wicked and tortuous device? In deference to the Ladies of the Pool, I will spare you the details of the unholy acts I was made to perform. Such delicate and sublime creatures should know nothing of the trials that mortal men must endure to provide for their every desire. Forsooth, should the Dames of the Pool learn the particulars of my debasement, I would be too ashamed to endure their gaze. Know that I protested vociferously, but that the fierce lash of the slave driver’s whip on my abdomen was more than I could endure. As I worked, I learned more and more about my captors, and I marveled at the reach of their awesome power. This confederacy of dark wizards is known to outsiders only as a humble manufacturer of sub-standard automobiles, but, I assure you, they are far more. Their foundries produce all manner of goods: from automobiles to high-quality xylophones, from breakfast cereals to the very diapers I wear on my head. Why, even without their technological stranglehold on the Internet, they could shut it down instantly by crippling the world’s supply of ramen noodles, thereby starving countless thousands of Systems Engineers. “Great Lord”, I thought. “What terrible purpose are these madmen pursuing? What evil master stroke requires simultaneous control of semiconductor trade and bear gall bladder trafficking? What does the manufacture of jet engines have in common with the fabrication of soy-based breast enhancements?” And then I realized it: the means WAS the end! As surely as I slaved over my keyboard, some other poor captive was toiling over a plastic bag filled with mashed soy beans. These wicked warlocks meant to enslave the entire human race! And how could I, a lowly serf, hope to overcome these powerful wizards when their sole aim, the focus of all their terrible powers, was my very enslavement! Oh, how I wept that night – bitter tears sprung from the bottomless well of my despair. I truly believed that I would never again reach the beloved waters of the Cesspool, or worship at the feet of my one true master, Lord Rune. Then, one pale and humorless morning, when hope had long since fled, the chief slave driver, a swarthy brute as mean spirited as a sober Joe Shaw, announced that we would begin User Acceptance Testing. Confused, as always, I watched in amazement as this bizarre pagan ritual commenced. Many stout trolls emerged from the bowels of the palace. They were angry. There was much gesturing and shouting, most of it between the trolls and slaves drivers, but then, to my horror, I noticed that the focus of eveyones ire had shifted to your humble Buzzsaw. I could smell to nicotine and hot sulfur on the trolls’ breath as they pressed closer and closer, forming a tight circle around me. They were beating their chests, and flailing their arms wildly. “Heavens above”, I though to myself, “This gruesome ceremony will surely end with my sacrifice on their pagan altar!” My strict diet now made perfect sense: my body was now well-cured by generous helpings of pickled roots, and I was to be eaten raw! But then, just as the frenzy was reaching a howling crescendo, one of the slave drivers held aloft a scroll of yellow parchment and a sudden and eerie hush descended. “Behold”, he cried “the long lost Requirements Document”. And then he began to read aloud from this hitherto unknown sacred text. The trolls were much distressed, and seemed to dispute the authenticity of the text, but the slave drivers were relentless, and threatened to brand the trolls as heretics if they did not submit to the teachings of this arcane text. As everyone listened in rapt attention to the readings from the parchment, I saw my chance for escape. The trolls were fond of taking breaks to meditate while holding smoking sticks of fire in their toothy jaws. They had forgotten to lower the palace portcullis after the last such break, and I made my break, slipping away unseen. I ran, and ran, and ran; breathing the sweet air as only a free man can, but still anxious to return to my homeland. Finally, I found my way to the gathering place of the great Metal Dragons, where I bargained with their keepers for transport across the Great Water. I boarded the giant metal beast, and as she gently lifted me heavenward, a great peace washed over me. I gazed sleepily out the window upon the beautiful countryside. The scene was idyllic: shepherds tended flocks of dun-colored dogs as they grazed peacefully in verdant minefields. “Hmmm, best that Mace never visits this place”, was my last thought as I drifted into a deep and restful slumber. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrSpkr Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Mouse: Upon first read of the new title, I was expecting pictures of Peng in drag or sumfink... The frightening part is, you were so overcome with despair when you learned such pictures were not (thank the heavens) forthcoming that it took you nearly two days to respond. Pillock. Steve Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mouse Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Joe Shaw: I remain ... Joe Damn! And I've flushed several times... Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Mouse Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by MrSpkr: </font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Mouse: Upon first read of the new title, I was expecting pictures of Peng in drag or sumfink... The frightening part is, you were so overcome with despair when you learned such pictures were not (thank the heavens) forthcoming that it took you nearly two days to respond. Pillock. Steve </font> Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
MrSpkr Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Mouse: Unlike some others of you, I had other matters to attend to in the past two days, which for the calendar-challenged among you, included weekend, and a festive one at that. Full of alcohol, costumed revelers, and more alcohol. Ahh, a sweet mousie-kins she was, tall and lithely proportioned... set my whiskers aquiver she did. Some of us don't have to get our women drunk to have fun with them -- they come to our beds willingly. Neither we nor they feel any particular need to obtain beer goggles to enhance one another's beauty, either. Pillock. Steve [ November 03, 2003, 03:29 PM: Message edited by: MrSpkr ] Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lars Posted November 3, 2003 Share Posted November 3, 2003 Originally posted by Buzzsaw: “Heavens above”, I though to myself, “This gruesome ceremony will surely end with my sacrifice on their pagan altar!” My strict diet now made perfect sense: my body was now well-cured by generous helpings of pickled roots, and I was to be eaten raw! The only part of the narrative that worked for me. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Recommended Posts