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The Peng Challenge Thread....Drunken Shotgun of the Gods


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Damn! I LIKE that thread title!

The rules are as follows, you horrible, little man.

We don't like you or your little dog, too.

We don't care about your opinions, even if you have any.

We will never, ever like you, but kiss up all you want.

Go away. Go far away. Let not the night find you where the day left you. Seek ye far horizons where we aren’t. And then keep going.

Still here? Damn. Very well, if you must post, try to show some wit and vinegar. Challenge someone. Operative word is ONE. Single one person out and construct a creative taunt to entice them to the field of battle. Anything less will be met with scorn, derision and more scorn. Don’t bother the Olde Ones or the Knights or even the Squires, for that matter. Challenge either an SSN like yourself, or a serf.

Sound off like ya got a pair. NOT about your pair, because we really couldn’t care less.

The Ladies of the Pool are sacrosanct. Don't go there or you'll discover Coventry fast. Coventry you ask? It's our special way of dealing with those we really don't like.

Leave your personal hang-ups and prejudices at the door. We have no use for your mind numbing ignorance here.

If you do not have an E-mail address or a general location in your profile, you ain’t tall enough to ride this ride.

Now, if you understand and agree to all that’s been said here... SOD OFF!

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Originally posted by Noba:

Ultra-Gamey-Hull-Down-On-a-Bank-position..

Originally posted by Stuka:

And who is attacking with crews now hmmmm?

Well let me number the reasons...

Their tanks are minus a few parts wot make them move under their own power and they didn't want to push them so the Commissar promised them lots of vodka if they would like to just finish off the few poor German defenders. Or sumfink.

Turns out tomorrow.

And those rules suck.

Noba.

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Originally posted by Egbert:

Dearest, sweet, sweet Bo,

Even the melodic, lilting rant about manly men wanting to smack ass was better than that.

The title, though the product of your SWMBO (an apt description of your last hunt, no doubt) is acceptable. That's how we know the real authoress.

And once again, it's apparent that Q-Bert has been copping hits off the tailpipe of a Greyhound bus.

I have to hand it to him though, he truly knows how to take incomprehensibility to lofty heights indeed.

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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

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

Dearest, sweet, sweet Bo,

Even the melodic, lilting rant about manly men wanting to smack ass was better than that.

The title, though the product of your SWMBO (an apt description of your last hunt, no doubt) is acceptable. That's how we know the real authoress.

And once again, it's apparent that Q-Bert has been copping hits off the tailpipe of a Greyhound bus.

I have to hand it to him though, he truly knows how to take incomprehensibility to lofty heights indeed. </font>

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Originally posted by Egbert:

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

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

Dearest, sweet, sweet Bo,

Even the melodic, lilting rant about manly men wanting to smack ass was better than that.

The title, though the product of your SWMBO (an apt description of your last hunt, no doubt) is acceptable. That's how we know the real authoress.

And once again, it's apparent that Q-Bert has been copping hits off the tailpipe of a Greyhound bus.

I have to hand it to him though, he truly knows how to take incomprehensibility to lofty heights indeed. </font>

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Once upon a time in my misspent yokel-fied youth, I quite angrily dealt random violence and mayhem upon innocuous postal receptacles along dark country roads. Though the lens of time has made me regret many such youthfully misplaced outlets for teen angst, to this day I would happily, with abandon and a 2lb. hand sledge, forge a fecking speculum out of Boo's mail box with which to pry apart that massive noggin of his to finally make clear for all and sundry to see that a slug is at the helm of that endomorphic, protein puppet erstwhile known as Boo.

Or sumfink like that.

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Originally posted by Leeo:

Once upon a time in my misspent yokel-fied youth, I quite angrily dealt random violence and mayhem upon innocuous postal receptacles along dark country roads. Though the lens of time has made me regret many such youthfully misplaced outlets for teen angst, to this day I would happily, with abandon and a 2lb. hand sledge, forge a fecking speculum out of Boo's mail box with which to pry apart that massive noggin of his to finally make clear for all and sundry to see that a slug is at the helm of that endomorphic, protein puppet erstwhile known as Boo.

Or sumfink like that.

Yes, yes, yes, right, right, right. Pick a number and get in line. But more importantly... don't you owe me a turn?
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Originally posted by Leeo:

Once upon a time in my misspent yokel-fied youth, I quite angrily dealt random violence and mayhem upon innocuous postal receptacles along dark country roads. Though the lens of time has made me regret many such youthfully misplaced outlets for teen angst, to this day I would happily, with abandon and a 2lb. hand sledge, forge a fecking speculum out of Boo's mail box with which to pry apart that massive noggin of his to finally make clear for all and sundry to see that a slug is at the helm of that endomorphic, protein puppet erstwhile known as Boo.

Or sumfink like that.

Can I egg his house?
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Originally posted by Patch:

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

Once upon a time in my misspent yokel-fied youth, I quite angrily dealt random violence and mayhem upon innocuous postal receptacles along dark country roads. Though the lens of time has made me regret many such youthfully misplaced outlets for teen angst, to this day I would happily, with abandon and a 2lb. hand sledge, forge a fecking speculum out of Boo's mail box with which to pry apart that massive noggin of his to finally make clear for all and sundry to see that a slug is at the helm of that endomorphic, protein puppet erstwhile known as Boo.

Or sumfink like that.

Can I egg his house? </font>
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Boo, my incarnation of the Thread was better. My rules were more manly, and Peng had a meltdown. Silly bastard.

I WILL BE HERE, MANO A PENGO, TO MOCK, BELITTLE AND DEBATE WITH PENG.

Do you think that because we are both Olde Ones, that He, himself does not need to answer to Me?!

Peng! I call upon you to respond to me, the Seanachai, another Olde One of the Peng Challenge Thread!

I call upon you to discuss America!

You've been talking big, Bucky! You've been hating big!

NOW TALK TO ME!

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I'm tying to get caught up on the last incarnation of the Thread, but I'm tired. Most if it is giving me the red ass.

I was out celebrating a good friend's 40th birthday tonight, and I'm tired. Also, half in the bag.

Is rammer4250 still posting here? I read his response to me, and he missed the most obvious point. I don't care about his politics. I just didn't like him. Still don't, so far as I've read. But he didn't come in here to make friends. He came in here to to win points for the perfection of his vision of Reality.

I don't give a good goddamn about anyone's politics. I hate Mankind. But I like people. If I like you, I'll deal with what you think. I'll listen, I'll take it in. One finds the Truth in the most surprising places.

You almost never find the Truth where you expect it. Mankind plays 'three card monte' with Truth. One day it will be with Dalem, the next with Peng, the next on a men's room wall in southern Idaho.

Truth is like that. Everyone has a piece, but no one owns it. No one with one piece should call jihad or crusade upon someone else who has another.

Truth is a jigsaw. Everyone gets a piece. For most of mankind, they don't even realize they're putting together a puzzle. And until they realize they don't hold all the pieces, the most they'll ever have is a little twisty piece of Truth, the possession of which will make them arrogant and angry, until they realize how much they need everyone else to make the Picture.

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Curse this insomnia, that makes me continue to post long after I'm exhausted!

Curse this sense of fairness, that makes me give everyone a shot at being a fool!

And curse this sense of wanting, ever wanting, to be amazed.

Joe, Eternal Servant of the Peng Challenge Thread (you git), I will now stand in, and I will propose the utterly unlikable rammer4250 to be a serf of the Peng Challenge Thread.

I don't like him, I doubt that I will ever agree with him on anything, but, if he will still post here, I will support him as serf.

Kinda won me over with the whole 'Gilligan's Island' thing. Didn't like it, don't like him, but he's doing the thing. And now he's writing full posts, and not just boring one-liners.

Don't always like Abbott, either, but I think we'd be poorer without his almost magically halfwitted posting.

It's amusing to me to realize that if people like himself realized how truly Conservative Berli is, they'd be abashed.

We are not a Political thread. We are The Thread.

Liberte. Fraternite. Arseholery!

[ November 12, 2007, 10:39 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

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I feel like indulging in a manly exchange of insults. Not with any purpose, but simply to posture, pose, and revile another. Of course, to do so with most of you lot would make you cry.

So, who's man enough for me to revile?

Nidan, you're a big girl's blouse. I would be willing to venture the opinion that in your entire lineage, there isn't a single son of any mother who could put a name to their real father. Words pour from your mouth like spittle from the mouth of a dog, and puddles in the dirt, making as much sense as the mud thereby produced.

You're a big, square-headed goof. I could, without breaking a sweat, overturn your musclebound self and make you cry 'enough', while you were still trying to figure out how to place your feet.

I feel somewhat better.

You haven't sent me an email in ages. You mentioned trouble at work. What's that about, fella? I may be scum, but you are never alone, Nidan. I am always with you.

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Dammit. Who's for a jolly singsong, then, eh?

He is skating on a river

That's been frozen since December

He's a soldier on a river off to war

And he just received his orders

They're in his pocket with his quarters

But they never cut his leave like this before

And his buddies know he's crazy

But They'll meet him by the bridge

And he has the light of more than half the moon

He skated nights when he was younger

Though he always knew the danger

But it seems so much is here and gone so soon

And the ice talks to the river

And the geese talk to themselves

Will they fly all night if there's no place to land?

A place to land is open water

And open water he can't use

When it's hard enough to find a place to stand

When the ice gives in beneath you

You know it changes how you dream

And you will never be the same again

He's going where there is no winter

The only ice is in his veins

He may kill someone who's face he'll never see

He always knew he'd be a soldier

Since his parents could remember

Now he's skating down this temporary road

He is skating on a river

That's been frozen since December

He's a soldier on a river off to war

Temporary Road

-John Gorka

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Originally posted by Stuka:

I'd vote for you Seanachai.

Then I'd park myself in a hull down position on the 'grassy knoll' and wait.......

Bah! They blew Kennedy's brains out! Anyone who knows me knows that that is my least vulnerability.

You need to climb into the goddamn limo, Stuka, stake in hand, or you might as well just go off and get totally pissed!

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