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Peng Battles With The Video Challenge Thread


Speedy

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Originally posted by Speedy:

That would be right you want Maces' turn but not mine, I feel so used.

I want yours too Aussie Boy, but I have to say you are far more reliable than your neer do well countryman...I dont feel I need to remind you constantly to send turns, or do I?
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Originally posted by Speedy:

Here we are with the all new Peng Thread now with toilet paper.

edit- Oh yeah, I'm an Aussie I don't do rules.

I was watching some bull riding from Australia the other night on T.V. when I noticed them bulls were rather small compared to what I consider normal bull riding. What's up with that? Are you guys short feeding them critters?

Originally posted by Lars:

Nah, pimps gots money.

In-house cheap tipper.

As in cow-tipper? Hell I dint know Aussie’s kept them doggies in the house. I only bring em in when it dips below zero! Them Aussie’s must be quite neighborly.
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Originally posted by Nidan1:

Hey Mace , now that your world travels are over and you are back in that Penal colony that you call home....can you send a turn please, unless you have conceded to my superior small unit tactical acumen....or somefink.

I'm still basking in the after-glow.

But okey dokey then (now where did I leave that last turn)?

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Heres one from the other side that has a title with a nice ring to it.

Good ol boy

I got a job but it ain't nearly enough

A twenty thousand dollar pickup truck

Belongs to me and the bank and some funny talkin' man from Iran

I left the service and got a G.I. loan

I got married bought myself a home

Now I hang around this one horse town and do the best than I can

Gettin' tough

Just like us

I was born in the land of plenty now there ain't enough

Gettin' cold

I've been told

Nowadays it just don't pay to be a good ol' boy

Been goin' nowhere down a one-way track

I'd kill to leave it but ain't no turnin' back

Got the wife and the kids and what would everybody say

My brother's standin' on a welfare line

And any minute now I might get mine

Meanwhile it's the I.R.S. and the devil to pay

Gettin' tough

Just like us

I was born in the land of plenty now there ain't enough

Gettin' cold

I've been told

Nowadays it just don't pay to be a good ol' boy

I hit the beer joints every Friday night

Spend a little money lookin' for a fight

It don't matter if I lose or win

'Cause Monday I'm back on the losin' end again

Gettin' tough

Just like us

I was born in the land of plenty now there ain't enough

Gettin' cold

I've been told

Nowadays it just don't pay to be a good ol' boy

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not much of a wink-tiddler myself, however I once knew a girl who, well...that story's really not for the youngsters...

anywho

if someone tells me what game we're playing, I'll consider entertaining a setup, though you must realize that my crushing perpitude will outweigh whatever gamey jeep-rushing, non mg-running, zook-camping, flank-shunting strategism any of you may deign toss at me.

in other news...

2 years ago I began working on part 1 of the next great American WWII novel. Part 1 centers on Team Desobry at the Battle of Noville (he of you that once paid attention may recall my wife's grandfather being a member of the 10thAD). well 3 days after I started, I discovered online card playing and have immersed myself in flops turns and subsequent rivers ever since (yes, I'm ahead).

I'm feeling the need to get my proverbial ass back in proverbial gear, so if anyone is interested in reading what I have and commenting, shoot me a mail at mcreelman@yahoo.com and I'll send you what I've got (it's 10 pages and almost as cool as Crodaburg, so watch out).

what I'm looking for is a couple of things:

1) I liked/disliked what I read (+ details)

2) the level of military detail was (un)realistic for me (+details)

3) the smoking gun picture of Mace with the Joey

I'm not really looking for story suggestions (that may come later as I try to figure out how to transition this story into the Battle of Crailsheim. this is intended for a general audience of people who enjoy the genre...not specifically hardcore historians and tacticians, nor specificially joe 6pack who know nothing more than shooting at deer and will believe anything I tell him. it's supposed to be an historical fiction based on accounts of the Battle of Noville.

looking to get myself kickstarted again, so if anyone cares for a quick read, let me know. your comments may get me motivated. the few people who've read it have liked so far.

that's that

taunt taunt fizz fizz oh what a loser dalem is.

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I'm feeling the need to get my proverbial ass back in proverbial gear, so if anyone is interested in reading what I have and commenting, shoot me a mail at mcreelman@yahoo.com and I'll send you what I've got (it's 10 pages and almost as cool as Crodaburg, so watch out).

what I'm looking for is a couple of things:

1) I liked/disliked what I read (+ details)

2) the level of military detail was (un)realistic for me (+details)

3) the smoking gun picture of Mace with the Joey

I would be pleased to read it. E-mail is in my profile.

Edit: My mad reading skillz are now in play, I will e-mail youse!

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Originally posted by Croda:

in other news...

2 years ago I began working on part 1 of the next great American WWII novel. Part 1 centers on Team Desobry at the Battle of Noville (he of you that once paid attention may recall my wife's grandfather being a member of the 10thAD). well 3 days after I started, I discovered online card playing and have immersed myself in flops turns and subsequent rivers ever since (yes, I'm ahead).

I remember this one time, Croda and I were running down this dirt road to nowhere at 2 AM, with the oil light flickering on and off and the steering so fecking shot that the slightest twitch to the wheel would send the goddamn pickup skittering across the road like a drunken monkey.

We were running 45 minutes late to a drug buy in a landscape that looked like the far side of the moon with scrub pine and Anti-Abortion wooden billboards that read 'It Stops a Human Heart'. Croda kept softly singing show tunes to himself, and down-shifting at really inappropriate times.

I was so stoned that I was pouring honey directly down my throat from one of those 'honey bear' squeeze bottles, when Croda hit the carcass of a dead deer. I was blinded in one eye by the spray of honey, and began to choke as the viscous stream of ****e hit my lungs.

Have you ever taken honey directly into your lungs? I imagine it's a lot like taking a solid shot of mustard gas.

I was coughing these horrible, rending coughs; sick and wet and painful, and Croda put both our lives at risk by taking one hand off the steering wheel and lamely patting me on the back, like a fecking raccoon attempting to reassure its young.

I remember the truck skittering off the road and plunging through a goddamn 'Native Plants of North America' field guide worth of vegetation, jigging just enough left and right to avoid anything that would have wrapped it up like a horseshoe, with me coughing and Croda patting me and going 'there, there'.

We took a freaking stream-bed at 45 mph, water spraying up in huge rooster tails to either side, and broke the tie bar when we hit the shelving shore on the far side. Croda was wrenching the steering wheel back and forth, with only the left wheel responding, and the truck slewing wildly around and attempting to mount itself from the rear.

When we finally came to a stop, it was on top of two fecking Puerto Rican coke dealers armed with AKs who had been crouched behind a screen of dwarf lilacs, with the truck's headlights shining on our trembling Hmong contact, 'Steve', who was looking at us with horror.

He started shouting 'No kill, no kill' in a steadily rising voice rife with complete hysteria.

And I looked at Croda through my one good eye, and drew as deep a breath as I could through the thick, viscous fluid coating my lungs, and said: 'Have you ever woke up with bullfrogs on your mind?'

I'd tell you the rest of the story, as Paul Harvey Keitel would say, but the truth is, the Statute of Limitations never runs out on some crimes.

Originally posted by Croda:

I'm feeling the need to get my proverbial ass back in proverbial gear, so if anyone is interested in reading what I have and commenting, shoot me a mail at mcreelman@yahoo.com and I'll send you what I've got (it's 10 pages and almost as cool as Crodaburg, so watch out).

Oh, joy. So, if I read it all, I can lop off at least 10,000 years in Purgatory?

Originally posted by Croda:

looking to get myself kickstarted again, so if anyone cares for a quick read, let me know. your comments may get me motivated. the few people who've read it have liked so far.

I'll be your huckleberry. Send it along.

Are you still wading through the court system about the rental of that pickup truck?

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Oh, and by the by, the other night I was at Dalem's, and the bastard made himself a Bombay Sapphire martini with vermouth, shaken, and spent the next hour explaining to me that he was 'really, really drunk'.

Worse, he kept asking me 'Why he was drunk'. I kept explaining to him that, after four fecking hours of drinking rum at a steady but acceptable pace, suddenly knocking down 4 oz.s of gin and vermouth in a 20 minute period while discoursing on the ultimate weirdness of the drinking behaviour in the movie 'Killer Shrews' was enough to make even the most hardened drunkard stagger and become confused.

But the truth is, he's just a fecking pansy.

Young people today. Bring me a baseball bat...

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Do you know, every now and then, I feel not merely the need to write, but the need to confess. Witness the bit about Croda posted above.

But what's the point? Is there actually anyone out there who really wants to hear from me? Does anyone want to know the Truth?!

I think not.

By the by, you all look very handsome in your little sailor suits. Smiling and shuffling. The perfect answer to those who wanted a daughter, but had to acknowledge that sometimes there are testicles.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

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

I never got the whole story on this. Actually, I never got any of the story on this. What the hell?!

Why was Mace in the New World? If he went to Canada, why didn't he come to Minnesota? We would have put the fecker up. </font>

Apparently, he made a top secret trip to the western provinces of that country just north of us...what's it called now???.....er ahm....you know, the place where Dorosh lives, damn the name escapes me.
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