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The Peng Challenge Thread Wishes You All a Merry ... No We Don't!


Joe Shaw

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Nope, wasn't the screenie I was going to post, but the powers that be put a kabash on the one I was going to do, since things are still being worked on.

This is, of course, a screenshot of kwazy's work. Now, knowing rune evilness, guess how many t-72s were ready to take on a poor Stryker Company?

However, I broke the game and Charles is now calling me names.

Rune

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Originally posted by SirReal:

Poodlepuddlers. In the spirit of the holiday season, I'd like to wish you all a better personal hygiene, less warts, and the capacity to tie your shoelaces without drooling. But I have better things to do, so I won't.

Go sort your feces collections by smell, you lice-covered hairballs, you deformed platypus fornicators. I hate you all.

I thought I smelled Swede. Happy holidays to you as well
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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

I don't know why, but for some reason, you remind me of "Lumpy" Rutherford from the old "Leave it to Beaver" show.

Go figure.

Your beaver and what you leave to it are none of my business. They shouldn't be your business either. As a matter of fact, your business should focus solely on acquisitions. You know, getting things? Acquiring things? Like, perhaps, a clue?
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Originally posted by Michael Dorosh:

You left out "nong". As in "you're the nongiest."

Michael, you are quite right. Regrettably, I failed to label you a nong. "You, Michael Dorosh, are a nong."

I had thought others had made it painfully clear during your career record of nearly 24k vapid posts that you were a nong, but obviously I was overestimating the capabilities of "others."

So, to make the record painfully straight, you, Dorosh, are a nong. A nant. A pant. A puling puller of private protuberances. A running sewer of inane commentary. A near black hole of fun.

I hope this clears things up?

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Originally posted by Leeo:

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

I don't know why, but for some reason, you remind me of "Lumpy" Rutherford from the old "Leave it to Beaver" show.

Go figure.

Your beaver and what you leave to it are none of my business. They shouldn't be your business either. As a matter of fact, your business should focus solely on acquisitions. You know, getting things? Acquiring things? Like, perhaps, a clue? </font>
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Originally posted by Leeo:

None of your pity, none of your gratitude, NOTHING, but your hate. Maybe a dance, maybe some pants, but never, mind you, never, your thanks.

What are you now, Dr. Seuss? Nice rhymes. Considering I've always thought you might be a pedophile, that's more than a little disturbing.

"Maybe a dance, maybe some pants?" I might suggest you wear said pants while you hang out across the street from the local Jr. high school, scouting for your next victim. But whatever happened to that part of your parole that said, "Not to go within 100 yards of any school?"

Then again, why would you need pants when you already have, indeed already ARE a Leeotard?

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Originally posted by Prinz Eugen_2:

]I like you, do you like me ?

No.

Shut the hell up. Scurry off into a corner and do something repulsive to yourself. It's not as though you need encouragement. But try and do it where we don't have to witness it. Just for a change of pace.

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'Ever' six weeeks or so,' Boo 'them does would throw a litter, so we'd have plenty of rabbits to eat an' to sell. An' we'd keep a few pigeons to go flyin' around the win'mill like they done when I was a kid. An' it'd be our own, an' nobody could can us. If we don't like a guy, we can say: "Get the hell out," an' by God he's got to do it. An' if a fren' come a long, why we'd have an extra bunk, an' we'd say: "Why don't you spen' the night," an' by God he would. We'd have a setter dog and a couple stripe cats, but you gotta watch out them cats don't get the little rabbits.'

Do you understand, Boo? It's important that you keep the farm cats away from the baby rabbits.

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You know, I wish that I could be Henry II and simply mutter something like 'Will no one rid me of this troublesome Finn?' and have a gang of rightwing nutters ride off and slaughter someone.

I wouldn't even come over all coy later and make out like they misunderstood what I said. When asked if it was my intention, I'd be very upfront and honest, and say: "When I muttered 'will no one rid me of this troublesome Finn', what I meant was 'If anyone nearby is paying attention and wants my Royal Favour, they will immediately take themselves off to Finland and kill the stupid sod with a great deal of violence, bloodletting and pain. Extra points for torture and gratuitous hacking off of bits.'

But this is a degenerate age we live in. There's only about a 2% chance that someone will actually hare off to Finland and kill the bastard for me.

Still, keep a good thought. There's a barony in it for anyone mentally unbalanced enough to do the right thing.

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Originally posted by MrPeng:

Youse guys just wish yiz were as rugged and individualistic as HeyAbbott!

One time I ran a wire coat-hanger up 15 bluebills while standing in snow and pulled their guts out through their arse before going in for a meal of spaghetti.

I remember me Ol' Da' passing me the coat hanger before he went off to the cabin to smoke cigars and drink whisky, and I asked him: Is there any trick to this?

And he told me: 'Yeah. Don't get any on your boots.'

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Good evening Story Teller , another Saturday night alone? It must be real horrible, especially during Christmas time. I just popped back over from my neighbor's house...too many feckin' children...all ages up till about 17 are represented. I have no patience for them anymore.

I am teaching my neighbor's youngest to play chess. He is nine, and very smart for his age. I kinda picture you that way at that age, Seanachai . The vocabulary of a much older person, but maintaining the pre-teen attention span....able to concentrate on one thing for as long as 12 nanoseconds.

He is a great little guy though...on a sadder note my other neighbor's little son had to undergo a liver transplant about 2 weeks ago. His liver suddenly went south very quickly, not sure of the malady that caused this. He was lucky to receive a liver from a deceased 55 year old man, in fact the liver was used in two seperate transplants. Its amazing what they can do. The little guy has to spend Christmas in the hospital, but at least he is alive, he wouldnt have been if it wasn't for the generosity of a complete stranger.

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Alone? I suppose. But I am never alone, really. All of you lot are always with me. And I have my small friend, Emma.

I'm currently after watching the best Christmas Movie ever made.

'We're No Angels', with Humphrey Bogart, Peter Ustinov and Aldo Ray.

I imagine I've said this before, but I figure Berli for Bogart's character, Peng for Aldo Ray, and me for Peter Ustinov.

It's a simple principle of the Universe that Mythical Combinations come in threes.

For anyone familiar with the movie, I figure Stuka for Paul. Joe Shaw would be the Father. I figure Bugged for Isabelle.

But who for Cousin Andre? Dorosh?

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