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Could Germany have defeated the Peng Challenge Thread? I say NO!


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Remember, remember the fifth of November,

Gunpowder Treason and Plot,

I see no reason why gunpowder treason

should ever be forgot.

Guy Fawkes, Guy Fawkes, 'twas his intent

to blow up the King and the Parliament.

Three score barrels of powder below,

Poor old England to overthrow:

By God's providence he was catch'd

With a dark lantern and burning match.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, make the bells ring.

Holloa boys, holloa boys, God save the King!

Us Yanks could learn a thing or two from ol' Guy... how many kegs do we need to get under the city of Washington anyway?

To our British friends and those in former colonies that celebrate it, have a great day

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Two things:

Arf. Me Small Celeste was born on this day, ten years ago, right around this time. We got to the hospital early because she was a scheduled C-section because she was LATE by a week and during that week had turned herself arsebackwards. She has made a point of being contrary to her mother every day of her life since. I cannot thank her enough.

Woof. Yesterday was our last soccer game of the season, and was a W with a score of 3-1. My Madge scored the last goal in the last game of the season. Her first of the season. She was due after a bunch of blown chances last week. The field was a muddy mess, but as it was the last day of the season we were allowed to play. It was hilarious. Near the end of the game they were all so tired from trudging through the swamp that they would all kind of just look at the ball as it lay in a squishy mess a few feet away. "I'm not gonna kick it. YOU kick it." "OK, I'll kick it." The middle of the field was a mess.

I could be heard advising from the sidelines "Take it outside, Maddy's open outside, go outside with it. That's it... er no the OTHER outside." as the ball went splat back into the middle of the swamp.

The second goal we scored was simply brilliant. The right middie passed up field to the right wing (My Nat) she one-touched to the center who one-touched to the left wing who settled the ball with one touch and shot and scored. A mutha beautiful play. Like they practiced it or somefink.

It was about 35 degrees out too. Cold, wet, mud. Yay.

So we went .500 for the season. 6-6. Could have been better, I think the team was much better than our record. They were a great bunch of kids, with only a little of the girly, petty crap that girls of that age do to each other. There is no-one on earth so ready to take offense than a tweenie girl.

So now we go riding on our new horse 'Friday,' or as I like to call him, 'Mr Phartworthy,' this morning, celebrate C's birthday this afternoon, and then I am off to Nashville this evening.

Piss off, the lot of you.

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Originally posted by Abbott:

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

For example as much respect as us East coasters treat Western Australi... oh ummm never mind.

What, sentence them to death by hanging? </font>
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Originally posted by Speedy:

Is Noba a relation perhaps?

A relation.

Certainly.

But of no one whom would want to know you.**

Bloody Eastern Stater. Havn't you got some daylight to save..? Or Sumfink.

Noba.

** THAT took a while to close to being "correct".

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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

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

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

There are some things Canadians just shouldn't be allowed to do.

That would be breathing.

Noba. </font>

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Originally posted by Mace:

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

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

There are some things Canadians just shouldn't be allowed to do.

That would be breathing.</font>
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Originally posted by Noba:

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

Is Noba a relation perhaps?

A relation.

Certainly.

But of no one whom would want to know you.**

Bloody Eastern Stater. Havn't you got some daylight to save..? Or Sumfink.

Noba.

** THAT took a while to close to being "correct". </font>

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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

OK, does anybody from the correct hemisphere understand a damn thing the bloody Aussies are saying?

That hemisphere is down here, Mate. From where we sit, you're upside down. (Some people say that the effect of beer gives the impression), I'm not so sure. You still look arse-up when I'm sober.

Noba.

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Originally posted by Noba:

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

OK, does anybody from the correct hemisphere understand a damn thing the bloody Aussies are saying?

That hemisphere is down here, Mate. From where we sit, you're upside down. (Some people say that the effect of beer gives the impression), I'm not so sure. You still look arse-up when I'm sober.

Noba. </font>

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My Deer Hunt

The Scene - A Cold November Morning. What else, it's Northern Minnesota. Duh.

The Time - Opening Morning, 5:45 AM, shortly before shooting time at sunrise.

The Place - A POSTED No Motorized Access Trail in the Chippewa National Forest.

I walk in at about 4:30 in the pitch dark. Went down the trail about 300 yards, got settled in, was going to do a little stalk later after sunup sometime. Sat there for a while, letting the woods get nice and quiet around me.

All is peace.

At the aforementioned 5:45 time, along comes a goddamn truck and a goddamn mini-van with about eight guys in them pulling goddamn four-wheeler trailers with four goddamn four-wheelers on them. They park 20 goddamn yards away, drop their goddamn metal ramps, back off the goddamn four-wheelers and start the mothereffers up, making all kinds of goddamn noise.

At this point, there ain't a f*cking deer in the same goddamn county anymore.

Then, the d*ckheads drive right effing by me…and never even saw me. I'm sitting on the ground 5 effing feet off the trail, wearing a blaze-orange suit, and the c*cksuckers never even saw me! Kee-rist.

To say I'm pissed off might be a little bit of an understatement.

After they've gone down the goddamn trail, I get up and walk back out to the truck. Dig around in the glovebox, looking for a pen and paper so I can write down the plate numbers and call the effing game warden. Can't find a goddamn pen or paper. ****. Go drop the tailgate, sit on that, figuring I'll just watch the goddamn dirt road for the morning, hoping to catch something crossing, and light up a smoke. F*ck it.

At that's when I saw the cross wrench.

Anybody need lug nuts?

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Originally posted by Boo Radley:

OK, does anybody from the correct hemisphere understand a damn thing the bloody Aussies are saying?

Let me rephrase this for you since you are too deft to get it right, "OK, does anybody from the correct hemisphere CARE about what the bloody Aussies are saying?"

Forget understanding them, they just need to tend to their sheep and stay silent.

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