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Why not the Cheery Waffle Thread?


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Okay, BDLRM maggots, I have received scenarios from Snarker, Thermopylae, and PseudoSimonds. Turns are already out to them. Which means the rest of you mouth-breathing sresol are not paying attention! Axe, this means you! Mike, I don't care if today is a lovely autumn Wednesday or whatever it is for you upside down people, get to it! Teddy, stay in England long enough to select your units! That goes for the rest of you, too! How many days does it take each of you to pick 1,500 points of Allied units? What are you doing, channeling MasterGoodale (the maggot)? GRARGRARRGHARGRAARGH!!! :mad: :mad: :mad: :mad:

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GRATUITOUS PENGUIN JOKE!!!!

The Seven Dwarfs go to the Vatican, and because they are "the seven dwarfs,"

they get ushered in to see the Pope.

Dopey leads the pack.

"Dopey my son," says the Pope, "what can I do for you?"

Dopey asks, "Excuse me, Your Excellency, but are there any dwarf nuns in

Rome?"

The Pope wrinkles his brow at the odd question, thinks for a moment and

answers, No Dopey, there are no dwarf nuns in Rome."

In the background a few of the dwarfs begin giggling. Dopey turns around and

gives them a glare, silencing them.

Dopey turns back to face the Pope. "Your Worship, are there any dwarf nuns

in all of Europe?"

The Pope, puzzled again, thinks for a moment and then answers, "No Dopey,

there are no dwarf nuns in all of Europe."

This time all the other dwarfs burst into laughter. Once again, Dopey turns

around and silences them all with an angry glare.

Dopey turns back to the Pope! and says, "Mr. Pope, are there ANY dwarf nuns

in the whole world?"

The Pope answers, "I'm sorry, my son, there are no dwarf nuns anywhere in

the world."

The other dwarfs collapse into a heap, rolling, and laughing, pounding on

the floor, tears rolling down their cheeks as they begin chanting:

"Dopey screwed a penguin!" "Dopey screwed a penguin!"

Kitty

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Originally posted by Kitty:

It's getting harder and harder to pick a fight around here. *slinks away* =(

Kitty

You bitch. Kneel at my feet, and acknowledge me your master.

Ignore the smell of dying crustaceans and rotting seaweed that otherwise permeates this shallow, silly, and useless place.

Normally, one doesn't need to come to some sort of vulgar tide-pool of incompetence to meet a women of your quality.

How 'bout a game, then, Kitty-kins?

Jesus! What's that smell?! How many Goodaler's have curled up and died here, then, eh?

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

Normally, one doesn't need to come to some sort of vulgar tide-pool of incompetence to meet a women of your quality.

Normally one doesn't need to recycle poor "Arthur" jokes to meet a man of your apparent lack of originality.

Kitty

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