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Bugger The Demo, Sod Pre-Ordering, Read In Order To Let Seanachai Know You Hate Him


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Go, thou Australians, and pronounce it amongst thy tribe: To hate Seanachai, and send him the postcard of hate.

Go, all thou Cesspoolers, and proclaim it to your non-Cesspooler friends: A card filled with hatred for Seanachai answers all.

Go, thou Grogs, and...

Oh for Chrissake, would all you sodding people send me a postcard filled with venom? I've got a sodding full wall mural to erect here!

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So how about an update, you spiteful little man.

How much of the hole have you got to fill? How bout a digital shot of the progress? Perhaps one of the other propellor heads from Minnyscrotum can come over and get one for you to post, since a dole bludging filthy layabout such as yourself could never afford a digital camera or the developing.

I suppose you'll be asking for a second round from the faithful anytime now. Bloody liberal scum.

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Yes, by all means, send Seanachai scrawled messages of hate. Scream out your black bile with a Ticonderoga #2 or an El Marko. Compose your message so that it grates across his eyes like ragged, dirt encrusted fingernails on a chalk board in the schoolrooms of your deepest nightmare. The one where you don't know the lesson, your homework is missing, you're naked and all the little children point and laugh.

I may send him another and another after that. It may become my new hobby, telling Seanachai how I loath him. Why?

The answer's in my new sig.

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Dear Seany-babe,

Hatred is such a clumsy thing. One cannot maintain dignity with all that needless panting and unnecessary aggravation of the body's muscles. No, one must maintain a disdainful composure and merely glance across (or down) at the offending particle that dares to deflect me ruminations.

As one artist to another, I must confess jealousy and envy knocking at the paddock gate. Like Nobbits in the night, they are casual visitors that serve only to annoy before they scamper off to drown in some forgotten pond or tip over carefully placed obstacles. So are these fleeting feelings normally driven from me bosom.

But Seany-babe, I find that they return with increasing vigor. And let me tell you they are a nuisance of a magnitude that me hooves can hardly bare. Do I not have enough burdens? Do I not struggle enough?

*Sigh*

So be it. A postcard so vile will be purchased (at great cost) and forwarded to Minnyiota detailing every aspect of me burning jealousy. Of course, it will be a tour de force in taste and artistry that only a few could begin to comprehend but I will try to make things obvious for me audience.

Regards

Yeknod

[ September 21, 2002, 03:09 AM: Message edited by: Yeknodathon ]

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Originally posted by argie:

This can be a full shift work. <Sigh>

Thanks to argie for his manfully Argentinian efforts to keep this thread properly, er, exposed.

A reminder for those so filled with hatred that their vision is blurred, their hands are shaking, and the audible grinding of their teeth has scared family pets from the room: You do not need to search or read this whole thread for my address. It is posted in the very first post of this thread in order to facillitate the orderly transmission of your hatred.

[ September 23, 2002, 01:05 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

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As the game hasn't arrived in Indonesia yet, I have time to hate you Seanachai.

Just to show how much I hate you, I will send you a postcard from Bali, where my wife and I are going this weekend, to stay in a small, luxury, boutique hotel, eat fantastic food and relax.

Meanwhile you will be in the dreary midwest, unemployed, friendless, cold and bitter. I should have pity for you, I really should. But instead I have venom and bile. And a postcard

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Originally posted by Wisbech_lad:

As the game hasn't arrived in Indonesia yet, I have time to hate you Seanachai.

Just to show how much I hate you, I will send you a postcard from Bali, where my wife and I are going this weekend, to stay in a small, luxury, boutique hotel, eat fantastic food and relax.

Meanwhile you will be in the dreary midwest, unemployed, friendless, cold and bitter. I should have pity for you, I really should. But instead I have venom and bile. And a postcard

That's the spirit!

See, lads? See how easy it is?!

And Wisbech will actually spend a few minutes of his time in paradise hating me!

It makes it all worthwhile, somehow.

Now, as I've said, go to the first post of this thread to find my address, and then send me a letter, card, or postcard filled with your hatred of me.

[ September 25, 2002, 04:59 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

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Sorry, you lot of useless rubbish (albeit I hold you all in the very highest esteem), but the flood of letters, cards, and postcards is beginning to fall off again.

Those received so far are much appreciated, and some are even quite imaginitive.

Others, of course, take the more normal form of 'Seanachai, if I could reach up your arse and pull your heart out and show it to you before going off to wash my arm, I could die a happy man'.

All good, of course, all brilliant, but there's still not enough.

You see, we're now (friends here in town have gotten involved; quite enthusiastic they are, in fact!) intent on making an Hatred Quilt!

Yes, send on your letters, cards, and postcards filled with how much you hate Seanachai, and see your hatred entered into the Minnesota State Fair next year!

As always, should you need info on how to post your hatred, go to the very first post of this thread for MY ACTUAL HOME ADDRESS!

That's right, it's not being sent to some drop-box or business site! That's where I live!

Assassins should note that it's a multi-family dwelling, so care should be observed in the expression of aggressive hatred, so no innocents are harmed. On the plus side, Minnesota does not have the death penalty! If successfully carried through, your non-postal hatred should result in simple incarceration, with early release if you show the parole board some of my posts.

[ September 30, 2002, 02:36 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

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Seanoochi, my hatred for you is such that I cannot express it on a postcard. I have written out a nineteen page essay on the subject and fed it to my dog. I've given him directions to your house, so if he catches up to you in the next three days, he'll deliver my expression of hatred for you in an appropriate fashion.

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Originally posted by 109 Gustav:

Seanoochi, my hatred for you is such that I cannot express it on a postcard. I have written out a nineteen page essay on the subject and fed it to my dog. I've given him directions to your house, so if he catches up to you in the next three days, he'll deliver my expression of hatred for you in an appropriate fashion.

Lovely thought, I just love doggies, but it's not enough, you see.

I'm simply not receiving enough hate from Outerboarders.

This means, I guess that I will have to spend a whole lot more time on the Outer Boards, posting, getting to know Grogs and such, interacting with all you fine individuals in order to induce you to send me the letters, cards, and postcards that I so richly deserve.

So, it seems that the only solution to my Quest to Amass a Huge Pile of Hate Mail is to leave my beloved Peng Challenge Thread, and post freely, often, and at great length amongst the general populace of the CMBB Forum.

Of course, if I was busy reading all my new letters, cards, and postcards filled with venom, then I imagine I wouldn't have time to make a career of posting constantly in every thread on the CMBB Forum.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

Oh for Chrissake, would all you sodding people send me a postcard filled with venom? I've got a sodding full wall mural to erect here!

Pardon me, but I seem to have wandered in here by mistake. This vortex of vapidity isn't some mutant off-shoot of the MBT is it?

Sorry if I couldn't bother to wade through the entire sodding thread (just got a new pair of Bruno Magli's, doncha know, and wouldn't wan't to take the shine off).

So, what's this all about then?

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I was thinking of sending you a postcard depicting the ugly and junk infested high-rise buildings of northern Gothenburg. But then I realised that, doing that, would have meant that I would have made an effort to grant you your wish. Screw that. I went to the toilet and took a **** instead.

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