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Peng is Challenged by a T-90....and wins!!!!


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Already making with the excuses for losing hey Joe?

I've found a CMAK scenario that I'll send to YOU so that YOU can pick the side so that YOU can't complain* about being 'set up'.

* which you no doubt will anyway

Don't do it, Stukes! Halfway through the game, he'll get bored and wander off.

Isn't that right, Pshaw?

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Don't do it, Stukes! Halfway through the game, he'll get bored and wander off.

Isn't that right, Pshaw?

It's all a matter of who I'm playing ... in your case, yes I did get bored ... very early ... and consistently but then I'm sure you're used to people getting bored in your presence.

Joe

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Bugged, don't leave. If you leave, then all we'll be reading about is trucks and cigars.

I don't think she's leaving, I think she's just brushing her hair. I believe she simply decided to leave the mud-wrestling to the professionals.

If she goes, who am I going to get those new songs from? Nidan? I'm pretty sure he's part of Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band.

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My apologies.

I shall leave it up to those who do it best to do it at all.

Bugged, don't leave. If you leave, then all we'll be reading about is trucks and cigars.

Nah, I didn't mean I was leaving the thread. I meant that I'll let those who are cut from a more, uh, colourful cloth deliver the smack-down on those who deserve it. Much like the lip-synching Chinese girl in the opening ceremonies of the Olympics, it's "in the National Interest". Or somesuch.

Still, I could have sworn that I heard a man call out 'GIRL FIGHT!' while he was attempting to stroke my hair. Next thing I knew someone was nipping at my ankles. Then that man fired his pistols at the feet of another while gleefully yelling, "Dance, Redneck! Dance!" And the Redneck danced.

'Course it's all kinda blurry. Maybe it was just a bad dream. I dunno.

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And in other news, guess who just got the "Kid in a Candy Store" job?

I'm now working part-time at the local Muni. Seems the dumb Swedes in this town thought it would be a good idea to put a Dane in charge of their booze supply. Bwahahahaha!!!!

Spent last night sampling a nice Russian Valley Pinot Noir, then the Moosehead gal came in to give out free beer, and finally, tried a odd little beer made from sorghum. Rather nice, sorta like a wheat beer.

Tonight, we're giving away some more samples. Don't remember what, really, but every day is an adventure, eh?

Did I mention the 20% employee discount yet? Think I'll pick up a nice sticky for afters...

Wonderful, wonderful. So Dalem, Papa Khann and I are going to have to spend the end of summer/beginning of fall installing a rail-line from your house to the Muni, just so we can keep your arse alive so that we have access to a pontoon boat, your wife's superlative cooking, and your suddenly not much larger liquor cabinet (can't fill the reservoir with that large a hole in the dam, don't you know)?

Look, I know that the chances of the cops pulling you in for DWI out there in Mound would be like trying to spot one starling in a flock that darkens the sky, but let's be honest, Lars. You're an over-achiever. It's a lot easier to spot that one starling if it's painted itself blue, is singing a vulgar song at the top of its lungs, and is waving while flying backwards.

So we're going to have to build a stinking tramway for you, aren't we? Something removed from the normal street system, with no ability to do anything except follow the rails to its destination. Well, that's what my ancestors spent a lot of time doing when they first came to this country.

Well, I guess I'll have to put Papa Khann to work acquiring the necessary easements and right of ways from the local home-owners between your place and the Liquor Store. And I'll break out a pickaxe, sledge, and the other tools necessary.

And Dalem? He'll buff up his tin star, and get ready to deal with anyone unwilling to give us a right of way over their property. I can hear him now: "Mound? Yeah, this used to be such a peaceful town..."

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Then that man fired his pistols at the feet of another while gleefully yelling, "Dance, Redneck! Dance!" And the Redneck danced.

'Course it's all kinda blurry. Maybe it was just a bad dream. I dunno.

Nope, not a bad dream... worse. You've allowed Seanachai to slip into your consciousness. You should probably do something about that

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Still, I could have sworn that I heard a man call out 'GIRL FIGHT!' while he was attempting to stroke my hair.

I did no such thing. Call out, that is.

Next thing I knew someone was nipping at my ankles.

I'm not that short. Er, 'sort'. I'm not that sort. And, in any case, I was simply being playful. And ankles are safe. I got that from the HR department. Unless, of course, you go on endlessly about 'ankels', and it turns out you have 2 or 3 hundred megabites of pictures of 'ankles' on your hard drive.

Then that man fired his pistols at the feet of another while gleefully yelling, "Dance, Redneck! Dance!" And the Redneck danced.

'Course it's all kinda blurry. Maybe it was just a bad dream. I dunno.

As for getting a Redneck to dance? Have you ever seen them dance? There's your bad dream, lass. They have two basic styles: either like steers bumping up against each other in a paddock, or a sort of 'choreographed by a Gay version of the Wehrmacht' line-dancing thing that will make you shudder every time you contemplate white people getting rhythm.

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Spent last night sampling a nice Russian Valley Pinot Noir, then the Moosehead gal came in to give out free beer, and finally, tried a odd little beer made from sorghum. Rather nice, sorta like a wheat beer.

Tonight, we're giving away some more samples. Don't remember what, really, but every day is an adventure, eh?

Don't remember eh? You must be knocking a few back then!

Free samples eh? My address is......

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Nope, not a bad dream... worse. You've allowed Seanachai to slip into your consciousness.

You have to admit, that's not as bad as her giving me access to her sub-conscious. I can raise all sorts of weird hell when I get lodged there.

You should probably do something about that

Good to see you posting again, you feck. The Land does not know its shape when we do not walk it, and tell it our stories.

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,,,{snipped}...

Good to see you posting again, you feck. The Land does not know its shape when we do not walk it, and tell it our stories.

Look who's talking Mr. I'lldropbyonceafortnightandpost6timesandthenwanderoffagain ...

And it you think it was easy to type that without hitting the spacebar well you can just think again there Mr. ... uh ... well you know.

Joe

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You have to admit, that's not as bad as her giving me access to her sub-conscious. I can raise all sorts of weird hell when I get lodged there.

I bet. If you ever got into my sub-conscious I'd consider blowing my brains out trying to get to you.

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Which brings me pause; Why red, and why the neck, Hmmm? I have ideas, but I'd like to hear the ideas of you'se all's.

The term originated in the south and was used to describe certain ignorant rural types who in fact had red necks from being sun burned after being out in the fields whipping the negroes or having intercourse with the livestock or whatever else they did out there. In other words, a very low and contemptible sort of person.

Michael

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200px-Pepper%27s.jpg

"Picture yourself in a boat on a river........."

"We were talking - about the space between us all

And the people - who hide themselves behind a wall of illusion

Never glimpse the truth - then it's far too late - when they pass away."

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You're the one with the flower on your profile..

I'ts not a flower you Noo Yawker goofball it's ... uh ... it's an ancient symbol of virility. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Now I'm off to Des Moines for a glorious, fun filled three days of sitting in a conference room arguing about PowerPoint slides ...

{SIGH}

Joe

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Wonderful, wonderful. So Dalem, Papa Khann and I are going to have to spend the end of summer/beginning of fall installing a rail-line from your house to the Muni, just so we can keep your arse alive so that we have access to a pontoon boat, your wife's superlative cooking, and your suddenly not much larger liquor cabinet (can't fill the reservoir with that large a hole in the dam, don't you know)?

Look, I know that the chances of the cops pulling you in for DWI out there in Mound would be like trying to spot one starling in a flock that darkens the sky, but let's be honest, Lars. You're an over-achiever. It's a lot easier to spot that one starling if it's painted itself blue, is singing a vulgar song at the top of its lungs, and is waving while flying backwards.

So we're going to have to build a stinking tramway for you, aren't we? Something removed from the normal street system, with no ability to do anything except follow the rails to its destination. Well, that's what my ancestors spent a lot of time doing when they first came to this country.

Well, I guess I'll have to put Papa Khann to work acquiring the necessary easements and right of ways from the local home-owners between your place and the Liquor Store. And I'll break out a pickaxe, sledge, and the other tools necessary.

And Dalem? He'll buff up his tin star, and get ready to deal with anyone unwilling to give us a right of way over their property. I can hear him now: "Mound? Yeah, this used to be such a peaceful town..."

Already been covered, as they just finished paving the old rail line. Oddly enough, it runs right through downtown and right by my place. What luck, eh?

Sept 20, I will be wheeling a keg on a handcart down it, that should be a bit of a lark. Oh, did I mention the discount? Also, free tap and no deposit, either.

Please feel free to be on the delivery end, and do notify the usual swine.

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