God Mode for the Peng Challenge

[MrSpkr]

Originally posted by Boo Radley:

He looks a bit like an old roommate of mine from college. But smarter.

Like that narrows things down. On that description, we could be talking about the cockroaches infesting your linen closet.

Steve

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by Boo Radley:

Got an E-mail from Seanachai where he sent a quote from Guliani... but failed to send a turn. Then, I just got another E-mail from him where he promises to send a turn tonight, but only if I tell him that he is my stars and my moon and generally the sunshine of my life.

I thought we'd finally weaned him off his nitrous oxide addiction, but it appears he's backslid.

You might want to consider that my current job ends August 29th, you swine, and that the people I was working for were paying me like a prince. This means I will suddenly be at loose ends, with money in hand, and a powerful need to enact rage on everyone who has angered me.

Let's face it, Boo. I could make the worst day ever spent next to your West Virginian, Trailer Trash neighbours look like high tea with the Queen Mum, if I decide to get liquored up and head for Northern Ohio.

And I've gotten liquored up and driven to Northern Ohio on a whim before. Well, Central Ohio, but that just involves a minor course correction that Sulu is fully capable of, while 'LA Woman' by the Doors blasts out of every speaker.

So you better get right, and tell me that you revere me. The turn is already in your in-box.

I'm waiting.

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by NG cavscout:

Who else has had their Chief of Police refer to them as "the miracle man"?

Strange, he sent me a letter and used that same term about me for getting you to take me to breakfast when you weren't on patrol.

Now that you're back from serving our country without getting your ass killed, I can finally tell you the Truth:

You're a Horrible Little Man, and if it wasn't for your wonderfully cute kids I would drive to fecking Beloit and lay a trap of donuts near your favourite place to sleep on duty, and run your arse over when you got out of your squad car, looking around like a nervous goddamn ferret, to brush the road-dirt off them and eat them.

So, whatever became of that game that you destroyed 6 different, Army paid-for laptops in order to stop losing to me?

I'll tell you what happened. I've got still got it.

But I wouldn't want to drag your vile carcass back through the puddle of piss you'd made of that one, so why don't you just send me something new?

Something you think you can handle. Something you think you can do. Something that, if God were to actually reach his hand down and slap you on the back of your wooden head, you could actually win.

Oh, and by the by, you know that 'Beloit' is the sound that a quarter makes as it drops into a toilet, don't you? No real surprise there. I mean, I've been to Beloit.

Originally posted by NG cavscout:

There was a Czech citizen from the town of Budweis, and he said that when he tasted American Budweiser "There is something missing, oh yes, it is the beer taste".

Typical European arrogance and pretension. It's that Old World sense of craftsmanship and delight in experience that's made them into a bunch of feather-boa clad female impersonators who have to jabber at each other about 'union' and 'cooperation' in the vain hope that they can somehow tighten their failing grasp on Relevance long enough to somehow make 'History' equate to 'Power'.

At the same time that America, through it's un-rivaled industrial know-how and unbelievable alcoholism, has managed to produce a profusion of local breweries creating excellent beers, Europe has either destroyed their best breweries by attempted over-production, or simply sold their best and brightest off to franchising and 'remote production under license'.

The production of unique, quality alcohol products of superiour craftsmanship was one of the final bastions of European culture. Their grasp on that brass ring is but the sound of fingernails sliding off the prize. Where we could not surpass them, we have compromised and destroyed them.

A bit like Microsoft.

Seriously. When I buy a bottle of Pilsner Urquell, and it's brewed in CANADA?

Europe: Get stuffed. Your time is past.

America's ability to surpass and/or destroy Europe's Alcohol superiority has shrunk it to a very narrow margin. Scotland and the Champagne region of France may be amongst the last hold-outs.

What's the line from that old Leonard Cohen song?

First we take Manhattan

Then we take Berlin...

I say

First we take Berlin

Then we take Australia...

You're next, Australia. What we can't better, duplicate, or seize...

We'll destroy. Pretty soon you bastards aren't only going to know how to spell 'XXXX', but you're going to have to pay us royalties for the right to sound it out, dead drunk, in a goddamn men's room in Melbourne, while people piss on your shoes.

[ August 17, 2007, 10:20 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

[Seanachai]

Berli's asleep (Goodnight, Berli!), Peng is AWOL (Goodnight, Peng!), and Joe Shaw won't reply to my emails (Goodnight, Joe!)

Hey, Bugged, I went to the iTunes store and bought that tune you shared with me...seems like a long time ago.

I hate it when I have insomnia, and all you cocksu-- when all you guys are asleep.

Job is coming to an end. It happens, yes it does. It happens.

Me Old Da' always told me (drinking, up North in the Canada cabin, with his partner, my godfather), that if I'd gone into business with them, I'd have been a millionaire by 30. It wasn't talk. I would have been.

Hell, they had to shuffle every three years between millionaire and desperate fecks scrounging to make payroll. But they always came right side up, and did the dance so well that guys in the industry still come up to me, 15 years after his death from cancer, and tell me 'I knew your Dad. He was a great man.'

Just figure I never had the aptitude, or desire. Not to mention that me Ol' Da' and I spent my early adult years snarling at each other like junkyard dogs looking for a throat-hold. And that I wouldn't have worked for him if God the Father had stooped down from on High and tried to sort us out.

Now, of course, I kind of wish I'd gone with the whole 'You'll be a millionaire' thing. Then I'd have the money to travel pointlessly around the country pissing in the yards of you lot.

If I'd known wealth could bring a sense of satisfaction with it, I'd have gone for it.

[Paul AU]

If only you could use your powers for good, instead of (the other thing).

[dalem]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

And I've gotten liquored up and driven to Northern Ohio on a whim before. Well, Central Ohio, but that just involves a minor course correction that Sulu is fully capable of, while 'LA Woman' by the Doors blasts out of every speaker.

So you better get right, and tell me that you revere me. The turn is already in your in-box.

I'm waiting.

We could both go.

[dalem]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

We'll destroy. Pretty soon you bastards aren't only going to know how to spell 'XXXX', but you're going to have to pay us royalties for the right to sound it out, dead drunk, in a goddamn men's room in Melbourne, while people piss on your shoes.

People that have never met Seanachai may not realize that he talks like this for real.

All the time.

I had an unexpected run on my humidor tonight, so we'll be heading to Sarna's tomorrow night.

[Seanachai]

There's a sort of beauty, a sense of peacefulness, when you post here, in the Peng Challenge Thread, late at night, iTumes cranked up loud, an Onyx aglow in the ashtray...

It's a cool night outside, down into the 50s tonight, cool for this time of the summer in Minnesota. Next week I go up North, up to our cabin on an island in Miles Bay, Lake of the Woods, Canadian side. I'm taking a friend up there who spent this year beating cancer, done with Chemo, in remission from Leukemia. She never got to go up there with me and our friends, before, for one reason or another. Hell, I never made it up there myself, last year.

So I owe her, and although everyone else that was going to go up has dropped out, we're going up. We will kayak, and drink some beer, and maybe some wine with dinner, and eat well, and enjoy the fact that we are both still alive. I will smoke some truly massive and impressive cigars. She will be indulgent. We will talk, and maybe drink some more wine, and listen to the loons calling, that nest on Clyde's Island, across from our island.

It's not officially 'Clyde's Island'. That's what our family and friends call it. Because my Dad always wanted to buy it, and build on it. But the Canadian Government shut off sales of land on the lake; first, to Americans, and then later, to everyone.

When we get tired of watching a beautiful darkness on the lake, we will go inside, and watch Monty Python, and Boston Legal, and whatever else we bring up on DVD. And we will listen to music on the stereo. All courtesy of the fact that we have our own generator on this bay miles from civilization on Lake of the Woods.

I helped build that generator shack when I was in college. Me and the son of my Dad's partner, who also has a cabin on the island. His son's name is Troy. He's a hunting and fishing guide in the Boundary Waters now, living in Ely.

We ran an 18 foot fishing boat all over that goddamn bay, shoveling and screening sand off of the one or two sand beaches in a lake dominated by glacier-planed granite islands, hauling it in five gallon pails. We shoveled up hundreds of pounds of gravel/small stones from other beaches. And we hauled both, by hand, up from the dock to be mixed into concrete in an electric-powered rented mixer. And then we hauled the gorram concrete, in wheelbarrows, up to the site where the concrete and brick-layer foremans from my Dad's construction crew were building the footings and 6 foot long, by 3 foot wide, by 6 foot high pads for the 3 generators.

It was back-breaking, hot, wet work. The best sand and gravel came from about 1-2 feet of water. And once the concrete was mixed, we wheeled it up to the footings and piers, along several hundred feet of rocky trail.

It was the hardest I've ever worked in my life.

We began at 6 AM, and we worked like dogs until 4 in the afternoon. Of course, there were the boat trips to gather sand and gravel, which were a break while we were in transit. We sang songs. We told stories. Two guys just busting their ass to feed a small, strange construction operation.

Every evening we'd knock off, and the skilled guys, the concrete and brick-layers (two of each) would sit on the patio with my Dad, his partner, Craig, and Craig's wife, Lois (both family friends since I was fecking 4 years old), and they'd have cocktails and talk.

But me and Troy, we'd go...fishing.

That is, we'd go out and pursue his desire to catch a really big muskie, and I'd run the boat. And we'd drink Labatt's Blue. I will never not have a spot in my heart for Labatt's Blue. He'd cast, and I'd run the boat. We'd crack beers. And we'd sing a bit, and talk a lot, and we'd stay out every night until it was almost dark, after a hard day of hard work.

And then we'd go in, and Lois, his Mom, would have prepared us all the best working man's dinner ever. Meat and potatoes. Baked beans. Salad. Fresh baked bread. We'd have red wine with dinner, because when you're a goddamn working man up North, you have red wine with dinner. They'd wait for me and Troy to come in, every night, before putting dinner on. Usually we'd eat at 9 or 10 at night.

After dinner, we'd stay up and listen to music, stuff like Gordon Lightfoot and Bob Dylan. And we'd play cards, and drink more beer, and talk. We'd go to bed at midnight, when it was finally fully dark, because we had to get up and work hard the next day.

And that generator shack took shape.

When it was almost complete, me and Troy got a day off, and we decided to go to 'Lost Lake'. He knew, roughly, where it was. It wasn't on the maps, at that time. It was a ways back in the Aulneau Peninsula. We gathered up our fishing gear, and a minnow bucket, and we struck off through the woods.

We knew, kind of, that the closest resort had, supposedly, some fiberglass boats back there.

When we got there, we found two row-boats about as big as bathtub floats. One was so badly holed that it was clearly unusable. The other seemed okay. Until we got it into the water, when it was clear that there was a a huge crack in the fiberglass in the front of the boat.

But we found that, if we sat in the back, side by side, and didn't move around too much, the front end remained elevated and we didn't take on water. And that there was a coffee can with the boat, that could be used for bailing. So we loaded ourselves, our gear, our minnow bucket, and we headed out on to a lake that probably wasn't fished more than once a year since Time ****ing Immemorial.

We paddled out about 50 feet from shore, and, since we couldn't troll, we dropped bobbers. We found that the damn lake was fairly deep, and we had to set the bobber with about 20 feet of line out. We were using live bait.

Almost immediately, we got strikes. Imagine Peng Challenge Thread members at an Open Bar. We had walleyes and large mouth bass hitting the lines so constantly that we could barely believe it. The walleyes were all in the 3-4 pound range, the bass were in the 2-3 pound range. We'd hook one, and try to reel it in, whooping and hollering, and groping after the net. Since we were both getting constant hits, we were fumbling after the net, and while we were trying to boat the fish, the front end kept going down, and the cockleshell boat kept filling with water.

So one of us had to be bailing with one hand, while reeling in a fish with the other, and screaming at each other not to make the front end go down too much. Add to this the fact that, because the water was so deep that the bobber was far up the line, we could only reel in the fish a few feet, and then we were pulling the line in hand over hand, and boating fisht that were larger than anything we would normally catch on 'the Big Lake'.

It was a complete fecking howl, that went on for two hours, and we caught our limit of fish that probably weighed 50 pounds. We were whooping, laughing, screaming, bailing, almost sinking, pulling lines in hand over hand. We only kept the walleyes, we threw back all the bass, in keeping with the dictates of our upbringing.

When we finally bailed from the lake, we loaded the fish onto a stringer strung between two paddles, and headed out. It was late enough at night that the Vampire Mosquitoes were out, and we actually RAN along the path to where our boat was, slapping with one hand, cursing and laughing, and then went home. I think I lost about 2 pints of blood.

No one believed the amount of fish we brought back. It was a fecking Marvel.

The last night we were there, the work all done, me and Troy went down, as you always have to do, at night, on Lake of the Woods, to double check the boats, check the skies, and see what's going to happen.

And when we got out there, we were presented with the most spectacular display I've ever seen. We ran back to the cabin to get everyone else. And then we stood there, on the dock, drinking Labatt's Blue Label, and slapping mosquitoes. Because what we had was this weird front, moving in over Miles Island, so that the whole Eastern sky was filled with thunderheads, big, white and weird, with an almost constant flash-flash-flash of heat lightening, no sound, with at any given moment 3-5 flashes of lightening occurring at once. And as the sky darkened, we had a 360 degree around the center of the sky display of the Northern Lights, so that at any given moment you had that going on overhead, and the weird lightening show on the eastern horizon.

It was one of the most beautiful natural displays I've ever seen. It was almost 30 years ago, and I remember it as vividly as when it occurred.

I'm pretty sure I retell this story every year or two. I hope I did a good job with it this time. It bears constant re-telling

On Thursday, I will go back up to that most perfect of settings.

I simply can't imagine a more beautiful place than Lake of the Woods.

My sister's ashes are there. I want mine to be there, as well.

It would be way cool if mine were scattered, and the goddman gulls swooped in to eat them off the surface of the water. That would truly freak out my Mom, and make my sisters laugh.

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by Paul AU:

If only you could use your powers for good, instead of (the other thing).

What other thing, you bugger?

WHAT OTHER THING?!

Fecking Aussies.

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by dalem:

People that have never met Seanachai may not realize that he talks like this for real.

It is true. I speak the way our ancestors did, in the before times, when we sat around a fire and wondered about where the lightening came from, and if it was going to run up our arse.

Originally posted by dalem:

I had an unexpected run on my humidor tonight, so we'll be heading to Sarna's tomorrow night.

Never fear, lad. We know how to get to Sarna's.

[Seanachai]

Originally posted by dalem:

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

And I've gotten liquored up and driven to Northern Ohio on a whim before. Well, Central Ohio, but that just involves a minor course correction that Sulu is fully capable of, while 'LA Woman' by the Doors blasts out of every speaker.

So you better get right, and tell me that you revere me. The turn is already in your in-box.

I'm waiting.

We could both go. </font>

[dalem]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

I helped build that generator shack when I was in college...

All that Garrison Kielor stuff was nothing more than a fever dream you had one night after you got hung up on a barbed wire fence doing road work for the county, Reepicheep. In reality the orphan-masters flogged you with telephone cable every night and fed you moldy bread until the screams faded.

[Joe Shaw]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

Berli's asleep (Goodnight, Berli!), Peng is AWOL (Goodnight, Peng!), and Joe Shaw won't reply to my emails (Goodnight, Joe!)...{snipped}...

Well I would you know if, if only ... IF ONLY YOU'D ACTUALLY SENT ONE ya faux Irish goof ya.

Sheesh, ManySodans ... there're ought to be a law.

Joe

[Nidan1]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

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

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

And I've gotten liquored up and driven to Northern Ohio on a whim before. Well, Central Ohio, but that just involves a minor course correction that Sulu is fully capable of, while 'LA Woman' by the Doors blasts out of every speaker.

So you better get right, and tell me that you revere me. The turn is already in your in-box.

I'm waiting.

We could both go. </font>

[MrSpkr]

Could you take that trip NEXT summer, Seanachai? Our scout troop is considering a trip to the Boundary Waters, and knowing that you were at least 1,000 miles away could be considered a "selling point."

Oh yeah -- send a turn, ya git.

Steve

[ng cavscout]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

...

So, whatever became of that game that you destroyed 6 different, Army paid-for laptops in order to stop losing to me?

I'll tell you what happened. I've got still got it.

But I wouldn't want to drag your vile carcass back through the puddle of piss you'd made of that one, so why don't you just send me something new?

You mean the game I asked you to send me your next turn for like 35 times? That one? Ok, we can start a new one, I think you had somehow managed to eek out an edge in that one anyway.

Originally posted by Seanachai:

...

Something you think you can handle. Something you think you can do. Something that, if God were to actually reach his hand down and slap you on the back of your wooden head, you could actually win.

...

Originally posted by Seanachai:

[QB]

Which god you Polytheistic poseur?

[Stuka]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

We'll destroy. Pretty soon you bastards aren't only going to know how to spell 'XXXX', but you're going to have to pay us royalties for the right to sound it out, dead drunk, in a goddamn men's room in Melbourne, while people piss on your shoes.

Roight Seanachai!, with your ill-concealed awe of the Australian nation clear for all to see, I think it only fit to point out the flagrant errors of the above post as part of your continued re-australionification process.

First and foremost Melbournians wouldn't and indeed can't pronounce XXXX, as Melbourne is in the state of goddamned steenking VICTORIA you ignorant ponce!

Victorians enjoy Victoria Bitter (VB) or even Melbourne Bitter even though its brewed directly from the Yarra river right downstream from the ****e ponds and dog turd refinery.

XXXX on the other hand is the chosen beer of Queenslanders and though I am one, I wouldn't pour that cat piss on you if you were on fire as I have too much respect for you.

XXXX tastes like 30 industrial chemicals allied with 5 heavy metals mixed with uric acid and provides a hangover to match.

Do try to keep up.

Nice fishing story by the way, I bet you and troy were naked in that little, cramped, leaking boat weren't you? and had to cuddle together as protection from the mosquitos.

[Mace]

Originally posted by Stuka:

First and foremost Melbournians wouldn't and indeed can't pronounce XXXX, as Melbourne is in the state of goddamned steenking VICTORIA you ignorant ponce!

Victorians enjoy Victoria Bitter (VB) or even Melbourne Bitter even though its brewed directly from the Yarra river right downstream from the ****e ponds and dog turd refinery.

XXXX on the other hand is the chosen beer of Queenslanders and though I am one, I wouldn't pour that cat piss on you if you were on fire as I have too much respect for you.

Yeh but the dog turds give VB it's body (as do the remains of executed drug pushers, discarded syringes, and food wrappers)

And it's illegal for us Victorians to spell 'YYYY' (alternative letters used because it's illegal) because basically that shyte destroys brain cells and has been thus declared a WMD. (take a good look at the mental 'capacity' of Queenslanders...it's obviously true!)

Still it's just as well you didn't mention Tooheys **spits on the floor**

And before I go, I'll leave you with a symbol of excellence

<font size = 1>pssst. I really prefer a Stella Artois because that suits my social status as General Public ass kicker, but don't tell anyone.</font>

[stikkypixie]

This thread needs more Alizée.

[Boo Radley]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

Let's face it, Boo. I could make the worst day ever spent next to your West Virginian, Trailer Trash neighbours look like high tea with the Queen Mum, if I decide to get liquored up and head for Northern Ohio.

I don't know about that...

I have to live next door to these Road-apple scholars.

You, I could just whomp over the head with a coal shovel the second you step out of your car, toss you into the trunk and then drive over to L.A. (Lower Akron), where questions are seldom asked.

[ng cavscout]

Originally posted by Seanachai:

You're a Horrible Little Man, and if it wasn't for your wonderfully cute kids I would drive to fecking Beloit and lay a trap of donuts near your favourite place to sleep on duty, and run your arse over when you got out of your squad car, looking around like a nervous goddamn ferret, to brush the road-dirt off them and eat them.

So, whatever became of that game that you destroyed 6 different, Army paid-for laptops in order to stop losing to me?

I'll tell you what happened. I've got still got it.

But I wouldn't want to drag your vile carcass back through the puddle of piss you'd made of that one, so why don't you just send me something new?

Something you think you can handle. Something you think you can do. Something that, if God were to actually reach his hand down and slap you on the back of your wooden head, you could actually win.

Set up is on the way, along with pictures of the two youngest, which you don't deserve you little mushroom.

And not even the good kind of mushroom like Morell's, you are the nasty little white mushroom, the kind that destroy your internal organs and lead to an agonizing death if you are unlucky or stupid enough to ingest one.

[Abbott]

Originally posted by NG cavscout:

And not even the good kind of mushroom like Morell's, you are the nasty little white mushroom, the kind that destroy your internal organs and lead to an agonizing death if you are unlucky or stupid enough to ingest one.

Shhh, I sent him a basket of those for his salads.

[Joe Shaw]

We can't let the MBT fall off the front page and we CERTAINLY can't have Abbott as the last poster ... where DO these "Others Recognized" get the idea that they're real people?

Joe

[Abbott]

Redneck carnival ride.

After our vacation to Michigan it was time to come home and get a bit of work done around the place, as not to lose the rest of summer. Pulling stumps, spreading gravel, grading (filling holes the stumps left) and some brush removal.

Some of the crew decided it would be in their best interest to go for a joy ride.

I hollered "dump 'em"!

Much to my surprise the crew was not dumped! As the Road Boss didn't get the order. The hour she insisted on first hand supervision evidently took its toll.

[Joe Shaw]

You see lads, he's even taken to HIRING children to pretend that they're his! These Others Recognized simply do not understand that they aren't REAL people. Why even Grog Dorosh is posting wildly on the outerboard AS IF HIS OPINION MATTERS! Of course the SSNs out there don't know him as we do and take his rantings to be the voice of reason.

Something must be done, it's Seanachai's fault of course. It's all part of his lunatic democratization campaign in which he believes, against all reason, that the SSNs he entices in here with promises of candy will somehow then LIKE him. Again, they don't know him like we do.

Lads, I've warned you before about this but it's even more evident now ... OUR PRECIOUS BODILY FLUIDS ARE IN DANGER! Let's keep the Mutha Beautiful Thread PURE and separate from the chaff of the outerboard. Only eternal vigilance will keep UNDESIRABLES from infiltrating!

There's not much we can do about those who are ALREADY so recognized, but we can continue to put the SSNs through the unforgiving and stern crucible of the Peng Challenge Thread.

Joe