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Once Upon A Peng Challenge


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Originally posted by Seanachai:

...I am probably the smartest son of a bitch in North America today...

Not even close. You haven't even gotten past me yet. I will concede that you probably possess more of a certain low, underhanded, evil cunning than I do, but even that does not add up to smart.

...I don't know everything.
Right.

And that, although I very often come close to knowing everything...
Oops. You slipped out of the saddle again there, Bucky.

He was mine to redeem.
Baloney. He was for he himself to redeem. It's that way for all of us. Others can help in various ways, or harm for that matter. But the essential work we do on our own.

Michael

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Baloney. He was for he himself to redeem. It's that way for all of us. Others can help in various ways, or harm for that matter. But the essential work we do on our own.
Not necessarily true Michael, I recall the days when you could redeem coke bottles for five cents and they didn't have to be yours. So you could, at least then, redeem something that wasn't yours.

Now in the case of Grog Dorosh I'm confident that the redemption value would be less than that for a coke bottle ...

Joe

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Originally posted by Stuka:

Alas poor Dorosh, I knew him well......

what that really means to say is that it would be nice to hold his skull in my hands one day and then punt it between the goal posts of some forgotten sports field only to leave it lying forgotten in the tall grass until one day a mouse decides to take up residence in the cranium until, after several months of crapping in the nasal cavity it decides to leave due to the smell.....the end.

Such a colourful little story. This place has seen its share of colourful stories and, indeed, colourful characters, eh.

Some characters are like the dusty blue walls of the spare bedroom that you called your own during the summers that you spent at Grandma's house as a child.

That welcome blue colour that changes shade slightly with the light of the sun as it goes across the day sky. That welcome colour of blue that, regardless of the shade it may take on due to the light which shines upon it, is a colour that's always fondly familiar and, in that, comforting.

Then there's the neon orange colour of the flashing sign outside the window on the east side of the cheap motel at which you rented a room back when you were a starving college student who needed a place to stay one night because your roommate threw you out of your shared flat because he found out that you messed with his girlfriend.

That annoying neon orange colour that manages to permeate through your closed eyelids. That neon orange colour that forces you to lie on your right side, with your back to it, facing the wall. That neon orange colour that, even then, while facing away from it, still manages to permeate your closed eyelids as it reflects off the wall in front of you.

Sure, that flashing orange neon sign spells out the truth: TAKE-OUT===>

Indeed, there is take-out to be found there. But you don't respect the neon orange sign just because it says there's take-out to the right of it. You don't like the neon orange sign. You accept it as 'one of those things that just is'.

That neon orange colour will always have a place in your memories. But not a good place. It's that neon orange colour that you know you won't miss if you were never to see it again.

Ah, but it's that familiar dusty blue colour that you welcome warmly when you see it again. You welcome it because it belongs. It, too, will always have a place in your memories. And it's a good place.

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Originally posted by Bugged:

Then there's the neon orange colour of the flashing sign outside the window on the east side of the cheap motel at which you rented a room back when you were a starving college student who needed a place to stay one night because your roommate threw you out of your shared flat because he found out that you messed with his girlfriend.

I don't know you, but somehow now you're more appealing.
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Back in my college years, I had a second floor apartment downtown, that had a neon sign right outside of my living room window.

As I was above the electic company (No, not the kid's TV show), the sign included the "Redi Kilowatt" character with his glowing lightbulb nose.

The whole place had a film noir kind of quality. There was a bar right across the street and there was usually a fight or two every weekend. I really felt I should walk around the apartment, clutching a glass of bourbon, but as I was only 20 years old, it had to be 3.2 beer.

Kind of wrecked the mood.

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Originally posted by Papa Khann:

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

Back in my college years... (blah, blah, blah) ... but as I was only 200 years old ... (blah, blah, blah) ...

You left out a digit. I fixed it for you.

Papa </font>

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Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

I recall the days when you could redeem coke bottles for five cents and they didn't have to be yours.

And do you get little misty eyed recalling those days, Joe?

How about when you recall the days when you and your kin went out to hunt woolly mammoth?

Papa

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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Papa Khann:

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

Back in my college years... (blah, blah, blah) ... but as I was only 201 years old ... (blah, blah, blah) ...

You left out a digit. I fixed it for you.

Papa </font>

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Originally posted by Bugged:

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

I prefer orange to blue......

After reading your other post - the one about playing a sport - I know we have one thing in common, anyhow. </font>
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Originally posted by Papa Khann:

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

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

I prefer orange to blue......

After reading your other post - the one about playing a sport - I know we have one thing in common, anyhow. </font>
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Originally posted by Papa Khann:

You both suck at sports?

Papa

I can only speak for myself when I say 'yes'.

I'm sure I've punted a football once or twice in my life with little success. I guess I just wasn't inspired enough. But ya know, practice makes perfect and even if it took multi attempts, I'd be willing to try my hand at the sport that Stuka mentioned.

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Originally posted by Lars:

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

If I only ever speak up for people I like, or who I think like me, or support me, then what have I become?

Silent? </font>
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Originally posted by MrSpkr:

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

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

If I only ever speak up for people I like, or who I think like me, or support me, then what have I become?

Silent? </font>
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