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I Never Stopped Hating You: The Peng Challenge Thread Story


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Originally posted by Lars:

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

And now for a jolly winter singsong!

What Power art thou,

Who from below,

Hast made me Rise,

Unwillingly and slow,

From beds of Everlasting Snow!

See'st thou not how stiff,

And wondrous old,

Far unfit to bear the bitter Cold,

I can scarcely move,

Or draw my Breath,

Let me, let me,

Freeze again to Death.

You were here in Minnesota last week? </font>
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Originally posted by Michael Emrys:

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

cartridges for my new carbine

Doesn't scan. One syllable too many. You might consider changing 'carbine' to 'gun' although I suppose I can understand how you might be reluctant to do so. Your call.

Michael </font>

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Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

On the first day of Christmas

my best dog gave to me

a 12 pack of Bud

And some cartridges for my new carbine

On the second day of Christmas

I forgot that it was loaded

And I shot my fool head off in the snow.

See, MUCH better now.

Joe

Your expertise with poetry is only surpassed by... well... just about everything else in the whole damn universe, actually.

The pole vaulting skills of Zebra mussels far outdistance your poetry abilities.

I would imagine that if we were to measure your poetic aptitude against, say... Stikkypixie's chance of dating hot babes, he'd leave you in the dust. (Of course, Stikkypixie could never, ever REALLY get a hot babe in real life, but it just goes to show how far into the realm of complete fiction I had to go to even find something that wouldn't blow you out of the water in the first nanosecond.)

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A priceless line in an email...from Boo.

When asked if he wanted to try another scenario because my wandering artillery was dealing random death. (Damn stuff hasn't dropped on target once !)

This is after 7 turns (out of 30).

Nah, I'll hang tight until it becomes totally hopeless.
Game should be over very soon.

Noba.

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Originally posted by Noba:

A priceless line in an email...from Boo.

When asked if he wanted to try another scenario because my wandering artillery was dealing random death. (Damn stuff hasn't dropped on target once !)

This is after 7 turns (out of 30).

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Nah, I'll hang tight until it becomes totally hopeless.

Game should be over very soon.

Noba. </font>

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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Joe Shaw:

On the second day of Christmas

I forgot that it was loaded

And I shot my fool head off in the snow.

See, MUCH better now.

Your expertise with poetry is only surpassed by... well... just about everything else in the whole damn universe, actually.</font>
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Originally posted by Noba:

A priceless line in an email...from Boo.

When asked if he wanted to try another scenario because my wandering artillery was dealing random death. (Damn stuff hasn't dropped on target once !)

Better get hold of a big bucket of water, because YOUR PANTS ARE ON FIRE!!!!!

If you are attempting to target my troops and you are indeed hitting them, then, by definition, you ARE on target.

This is after 7 turns (out of 30).

I can't check now, as I'm at work, but I thought we were further along than that.

We probably are and you're probably lying again.

You make Baby Jesus weep. And so close to his birthday, too. Swine.

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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

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

A priceless line in an email...from Boo.

When asked if he wanted to try another scenario because my wandering artillery was dealing random death. (Damn stuff hasn't dropped on target once !)

Better get hold of a big bucket of water, because YOUR PANTS ARE ON FIRE!!!!!

If you are attempting to target my troops and you are indeed hitting them, then, by definition, you ARE on target.

This is after 7 turns (out of 30).

I can't check now, as I'm at work, but I thought we were further along than that.

We probably are and you're probably lying again.

You make Baby Jesus weep. And so close to his birthday, too. Swine. </font>

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Originally posted by Patch:

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

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

And now for a jolly winter singsong!

What Power art thou,

Who from below,

Hast made me Rise,

Unwillingly and slow,

From beds of Everlasting Snow!

See'st thou not how stiff,

And wondrous old,

Far unfit to bear the bitter Cold,

I can scarcely move,

Or draw my Breath,

Let me, let me,

Freeze again to Death.

You were here in Minnesota last week? </font>
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I am filled with a Great Sadness. For today, I was informed that that most consummate of all humourists in the English Language, Terry Pratchett, has told the press that he's been diagnosed with a rare form of early onset Alzheimers.

What a cruel blow to literature, and what a sad joke for Fate to play on a man of such invention, imagination, and wit.

In his statement, he says:

"Frankly, I would prefer it if people kept things cheerful, because I think there's time for at least a few more books yet. I know it's a very human thing to say 'Is there anything I can do,' but in this case I would only entertain offers from very high-end experts in brain chemistry."

Not yet gone, and never to be forgotten.

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Senachai said, with maximum belligerence:

Paul AU, no one gives a rat's arse that BFC knows who you are.

Well, that’s unintelligent.

If I or you cross any Lines, BFC will be the ones to know. So Rat’s asses are and always keenly involved.

Are you really so dim as to not have understood what I said and why I said it? Should I say it again, in stupider terms?

Sure; I'd like you in my e-mail every day. Only an idiot would expect any decent person to supply an e-mail address to... well, people like you. And you expect that.

I can’t say it any stupider than that. I’m a decent person.

If you still don’t understand… well; (actually I have no advice on that score. (“Seek professional, help” has such an Oprah Winfrey sound that I would never say it)).

Your weird and (if I may say) ridiculous idea that saying what I said, requires some form of validation, based on a house address? Is - ridiculous.

What ever made you think you were in charge here?

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