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A Pengly Pastafarian Challenges The Notion of Spaghetti Monster Side Salads


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I owe everyone turns. For weeks and weeks. Of course, many of my opponents are Foreigners. Outer Boarders.

I'm not sure how that happened. Kiwis, Latvians, Anesthesiologists... weird idjits of all persuasions.

I simply haven't been able to play. I am in despair.

Oh, and Joe? It's a Temporary Job. But it pays the bills.

I had a dream the other night. I was young again, and making all my Choices for the First Time.

It was an interesting review. They were: Pagan, Northfield, Jewish, Bob Dylan, International Relations, Australia, LSD, Ferlinghetti, Lenny Bruce, America, Red Wine, A Confederate General From Big Sur, Doggie Style, Finnegan's Wake, Marijuana, Bagpipes, Ohio, Chevy Monza, Ireland, 19, Rum, the Drug Bund, Hunter S. Thompson, Samhain, Special Export, Cyrano de Bergerac and Amanita Muscaria mushrooms.

In no particular order.

I'll send a bottle of Finest Whatever to anyone who can properly attribute them all.

Radley! Change your goddamn sig line!

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Seanachai

Well, good, excellent.

Because I want to ask you something.

Do you ever find yourself alone, deeply drunk, pasted in front of a TV screen, not quite paying particular attention to anything internal or external...?

..and sense the faceless nameless sense of someone that enters your abode with no effort?

You are a passive observer that has accepted silly numbness as a tolerable sacrifice for being yourself in your own life.

But you still sense an entity or presence beyond yourself if not vaguely?

Weak, ignored, dismissed at first; But now, grown stronger? suspected gone, known a bit? felt and secretely feared?

You are not quite exactly focused on the entity/event. Even at this advanced age. Its as if the shadow that creeps in your peripheral vision/awareness is somewhat 'accepted'/ignored. You know its partly you and there is a life's list of 'line-items' that are suddenly, un-poetically, boringly and terminally due?

Brushed/Ignored off at a certain 'sober' level to maintain yourself. But it returns just like a 12 pack buzz?

Can you?, with your experiences and wit, really tolerate it without an internal scream of sorts? Is it not worse than anything imagined? You are in arrears? On so many levels that a grim reaper needs support troops?

It mocks you much as an old 'loved' cat will.

I pity you and your sad dry soul.

I challenge you to a game of Comblat Mission.

PS Do not call me 'lad'. You are just a fresh hen and will be dragged to Hell as you should.

[ November 23, 2005, 01:37 AM: Message edited by: shlitzzlipzz@hotmail.com ]

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I think he'll find it difficult to play

Originally posted by ****zzlipzz:

Comblat Mission

against you, considering that no such game exists. Besides, read the rules: an SSN such as yourself may not challenge one of the Olde Ones, only a fellow SSN or perhaps a serf (like myself). And as long as we're on the rules, I'm not sure how well "hell USA" qualifies as a location.

Also, do try and correct your grammar a bit. Makes life easier for all the old chaps that can't read so well anymore, and for the foreign-types that don't know their English so well.

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Thirdly (am I on third?), he can call you whatever he pleases, be it "lad", or "youngling", or "scrabblepuss". And though Seanachai will likely take a direct route to hell when he goes, I wouldn't be surprised if they kind of wanted to get rid of him down there. He'd enjoy it all too much, and ruin everyone's good time.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

Until Boo acknowledges my righteous wrath regarding his bloody sig line, I shall not post here again.

Stop teasing us, you old whore.

And hey, Dr. Memory? We agreed that we'd do a Blood Hamster. So you can hang your hopes on changing my sig line on that. I had asked if you wanted to start a new game (which would mean I'd get to keep my sig line like... forever, or until I changed it of my own volition) or if you wanted to make the game we're playing right now the Blood Hamster.

Of course I never got an answer, what with your hummingbird on methamphetamine-like attention span.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

Radley! Change your goddamn sig line!

<big><big>HELLO???</big></big>

Are you deaf or just stupid?

If it's the former, here... I'll spell it out in sign language

(Makes several violent and arcane movements with his hands, consisting mostly of extending the middle finger straight up while scrunching up his face and biting his lower lip in the internationally known version of the "Feck Face".)

If it's the latter, the best we can hope for is that if you decide to run for office, you stay out in your corner of the midwest.

Just a reminder: Blood Hamster... present game or new one... change sig line... kick you so fecking hard in the wossnames you get a job as the vocal coach for the Vienna Boy's Choir.

I swear, you make me want to go out and buy up all the garden gnomes I can find just to run them over with my car.

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Originally posted by juan_gigante:

I think he'll find it difficult to play

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by ****zzlipzz:

Comblat Mission

against you, considering that no such game exists. Besides, read the rules: an SSN such as yourself may not challenge one of the Olde Ones, only a fellow SSN or perhaps a serf (like myself). And as long as we're on the rules, I'm not sure how well "hell USA" qualifies as a location.

Also, do try and correct your grammar a bit. Makes life easier for all the old chaps that can't read so well anymore, and for the foreign-types that don't know their English so well. </font>

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And now for a sing song.....

*Turns up the music full blast and dances around the MBT *

My my, at waterloo napoleon did surrender

Oh yeah, and I have met my destiny in quite a similar way

The history book on the shelf

Is always repeating itself

Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war

Waterloo - promise to love you for ever more

Waterloo - couldn’t escape if I wanted to

Waterloo - knowing my fate is to be with you

Waterloo - finally facing my waterloo

My my, I tried to hold you back but you were stronger

Oh yeah, and now it seems my only chance is giving up the fight

And how could I ever refuse

I feel like I win when I lose

Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war

Waterloo - promise to love you for ever more

Waterloo - couldn’t escape if I wanted to

Waterloo - knowing my fate is to be with you

And how could I ever refuse

I feel like I win when I lose

Waterloo - I was defeated, you won the war

Waterloo - promise to love you for ever more

Waterloo - couldn’t escape if I wanted to

Waterloo - knowing my fate is to be with you

Waterloo - finally facing my waterloo ,,,,,,

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What? :mad: Where am I? Where the hell are the angry smilies and the cheery waffles...?

Oh Gods.. I've stumbled into the Peng thread...

Cripes! My eyes! What the hell is that smell?

Must.. stay.. on.. target.. follow the trail of bread crumbs out of here... oh Jeebus, the trail's ended - Dammit! Boo's eaten my bread crumbs..! :mad: Bad hamster!

Wait.. what's this.. fresh air, blowing from the west... the sun.. oh cripes no, it's a true blue Utah blue angel.. awgh!

Consciousness fading... I see a bright light.. pa, is that you..? That's amazing, my pa isn't even dead yet... Dear God, is that a 1986 Skoda? With none other than Mr Peng at the wheel? WTH?

Wait! An idea! Must climb uphill... past the bitching moaning and griping threads... back to... yes.. this is it, the waffle thread - oh thanks be to God!

Smell ya later cesspool! :mad:

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