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Gaudete! It's A New Peng Challenge Thread!


Boo Radley
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Alright, campers! I sold a kidney over the Holidays, and now I have a brand new HDTV!

It's small, of course. But it's wide screen! And it's an off-brand... unless British Guiana has suddenly become a major player in the electronics market. And all the inputs seem to be coded to a different colour scheme... and alphabet... and devices, than anything I've seen elsewhere. But it's mine!

After an investment in an antenna that cost almost as much as the television itself, I discovered that to get some of the low-power digital stations that the networks are going with in the face of the Government forcing them to keep broadcasting 'on air' so that poor people can't complain about the 'digital initiative', you actually have to hold it above your head and spin like a dervish, and then stop at just the right point.

But I am now current with the Government Mandated switch to digital TV! And I have got the High Definition TV, as well, me!

And, as I watched a station from some weird-arsed backwater out-state Minnesota station that I could actually receive without getting up and doing a cossack dance with the expensive, 'amplified' antenna, I was, for the first time, able to watch 'Hogan's Heroes' in High Definition Digital Television!

What can I say? It was like seeing every shade of Wehrmacht gray for the very first time!

After about ten minutes, though, I started to pay attention to the program, and eventually turned off the TV and went off to get fecking hammered as a memorial to all the years I spent watching complete ****e.

So, as near as I can tell, the Digital TV Initiative is a complete success, and will once again make America great!

The TV's been great for watching DVDs though. I was watching 'A Bridge Too Far' in widescreen, and I now realize that all this time those Brits were shooting at the Germans. I thought they were just using the 'Piat' to try and intimidate the Low Countries into adopting 'Guy Fawkes Day' as a Holiday...

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I see that Stupidity Never Dies, and will take this moment to remind anyone who might forget that when the Justicar and the Olde Ones (and anyone else with the sense to pour piss out of their boot) sends someone to Coventry, they are GONE.

For Death, there is always Reincarnation, if you believe hard enough and have your ducks in a row. For Coventry, the only option is to get really chummy with all those unbaptized children and ancient philosophers in Limbo. Maybe there are Monster Truck Rallies. Best place for them, when you come to think on it.

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Did you hear the one about changing the dead battery at -19F?

Good thing I have a garage, as the wind chill is -34F. Wee bit parky out today.

Still, I hate it when the socket wrenches stick to your fingers.

The gods are punishing you for not playing 'Sword of Rome' lately, you daft, drunken bastard.

Do you know that I have a whole set of friends who have met Dalem, and Papa Khann, but who regard you as a mythical creature?

They figure I made you up to try and distract from my drinking.

Oh, and just so you know, I did the 'Underpants Dance of Victory' at Dalem's the other night. One guy ran out into the snow, and one guy pulled his sweatshirt and coat over his head while chanting 'No, No, No!'. And, while I danced, I sang the 'Zamboanga' song.

You need to come to Town again, man.

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Oh, and just so you know, I did the 'Underpants Dance of Victory' at Dalem's the other night.

I hope you have the decency to wear only your newest, cleanest, bestest underpants whenever you go there to play the game.

Like this young man does...

underpantsonhead.jpg

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I hope you have the decency to wear only your newest, cleanest, bestest underpants whenever you go there to play the game.

I put upon my head the underpants that the gods had seen to grace me with that day.

In deference to the fact that I was dealing with The Weak, I made sure I wore them outside out. And I put my damn pants back on before I danced out there to punish them.

I could have done otherwise.

I could have left my pants on the floor of the bathroom, and capered and pranced through the living room with nothing on but my shirt and the underpants on my head, singing weird songs.

I could have broken their minds like so many dry sticks snapping. I am, after all, an Olde One of the Peng Challenge Thread.

I am a Horrible Little Man.

Try me, at your peril.

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So, I think we can acknowledge that I am a strange old bugger.

But I have very good Small Friends.

Oh my gods, they are becoming a difficult handful! How does one deal with TWO small friends who are becoming more clever and demanding by the day?

I have not written about my two small friends, Small Emma, and Smaller Nora, for some time. Small Emma is now five, and Smaller Nora is now two and a half.

Small Emma is now a little dictator. She is as imperious as any Princess. "Grandma Steve, I need to go to the bathroom. Come stand here by the door until I am done!". Or "Grandma Steve, I am going upstairs to put my pajamas on, come with me!". She needs to be attended by her short, stout quasi-adult henchman everywhere she goes. Her Mom tells me: 'You shouldn't do everything she tells you, fer chrissake!'

And I tell her: 'How can I not? She is my Small Princess.' I am the only adult who does what she says. She already has adults who tell her what she should do, and how to behave, and who want her to be what she should be. And she is becoming a good little person because of all that. But I am the big person who says 'okay, we will do that, it will be fun'.

So she gets to be that much bigger, in a world of rules and good behaviour, because she has someone who thinks she's a big person too. Sometimes, we conspire against the Rules. Sometimes, someone gets a cookie, even though they didn't eat all their dinner. As long as they did their best job. Sometimes, we play one of her strange, endless games, even though Mommy said we should be reading a book before bedtime.

One night, Small Emma, the Great Negotiator, told her Mom: "But we want to play a game, and can we play the game instead of having a bedtime story? I will go to bed right afterwards, instead of having a book read."

And her Mom, who was tired and trying to get two kids into bed after a long day, told her 'No! You pick out a book and decide who you want to read it to you, Mommy, Daddy, or Grandma Steve!'

And after her Mom left the room to deal with little crazy girl (that's Smaller Nora, who's weird and willful), she stood there straight as a little stick, looking sad, and said 'We should get to decide things for ourselves!'

I asked her 'Emma, what do you mean?'. I was the good henchman, quiet in the corner, letting Mom set the rules of engagement before leaping to it.

She told me 'We should make the rules for ourselves.'

Five years old, and she wants a say in what The Rules should be. Does my heart good to see it. There are the Rules, and there is You.

And there is a short, stout, white-haired guy perched on the bed who says 'Well, lets read some stories, okay, and another night we will play a game' So we read the horrible, dreadful 'Barbie Mariposa' and 'Diamond Castle' spin-rack books that she loves, lately, even though they are complete sh*te, and make your brain hurt because they are so awful.

The next night her Mom was at a class, and Dad was reading to Smaller Nora, and even though we were supposed to be reading books, we played the 'Princess captured by the Evil Witch who puts her into the dungeon, but her magic dragon Puff rescues her and her dogs and they escape by boats through the wishing well, but the evil bear guard tries to take them captive, but he can't because Puff puts a spell on him' game. We played it until her Dad was done singing good night songs to Smaller Nora.

It was pretty good. There was a lot of laughing and bear guards flying into the air. Sometimes, there's the Rules, and then, there's You.

And, at least until the gods take me off to answer for all the bad and stupid things, there's a short, stout, white-haired guy who will play really weird games, and laugh, and do the voices for an Evil Witch, and a none-too-bright Evil Bear Guard, who is glad to help a Small Princess slide a bit around the Rules, a bit, because, when you get right down to it, it's all about You.

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I put upon my head the underpants that the gods had seen to grace me with that day.

You could always bring a spare pair. Back in the good old carefree days, when I had hair down past my shoulders and wore jeans with a waistline of 30, packing for the weekend consisted of jamming a pair uf underpants and a toothbrush in the pockets of my army surplus coat and grabbing my keys.

You should always be prepared.

In deference to the fact that I was dealing with The Weak, I made sure I wore them outside out. And I put my damn pants back on before I danced out there to punish them.

I could have done otherwise.

I could have left my pants on the floor of the bathroom, and capered and pranced through the living room with nothing on but my shirt and the underpants on my head, singing weird songs.

Genitals flopping wildly... there's a picture to go with my coffee...

I could have broken their minds like so many dry sticks snapping. I am, after all, an Olde One of the Peng Challenge Thread.

I am a Horrible Little Man.

Try me, at your peril.

Can I instead try your patience?

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The gods are punishing you for not playing 'Sword of Rome' lately, you daft, drunken bastard.

Do you know that I have a whole set of friends who have met Dalem, and Papa Khann, but who regard you as a mythical creature?

They figure I made you up to try and distract from my drinking.

Oh, and just so you know, I did the 'Underpants Dance of Victory' at Dalem's the other night. One guy ran out into the snow, and one guy pulled his sweatshirt and coat over his head while chanting 'No, No, No!'. And, while I danced, I sang the 'Zamboanga' song.

You need to come to Town again, man.

Ok, but you have to promise not to sing.

I'd try to ban the underwear dance, but we both know that's hopeless.

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[sNEER]Wind chill ... [/sNEER] ... wimp, talk to me when the TEMPERATURE gets down to -40.

Well, that didn't take long.

At about 8 a.m., temperatures were minus 40 in International Falls and minus 35 in Roseau. Farther south, Minneapolis hit 18 below zero with a wind chill of 32 below and black ice was blamed for numerous accidents.
Supposed to get colder tomorrow. Probably -25F to -30F here on the outskirts of town.

Always doing our best for you, Joe.

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It only got down to 6 F here in Pennsyltucky. Positively balmy. I still don't like it. Not after a week in Fla. 75 perfect degrees of cloudless glory. Goddammit I hate winter. It's a bloody nuisance. Sort of like you lot. Only without the chapped arse.

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Just make sure you understand the consequences. For example Rule 6 is quite clear ...

Giving me the lie OR striking me can have critical results as you can see, however some lesser offense may allow additional options.

Joe

Although I do dread having to read your drivel on a regular basis, nidan1 here is not exactly sending sending the turns at the speed of light, although ironically that is exactly what he's doing if he's using fibres. I think I'll risk it, my super-duper free webmail account still lets me add more email filters.

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Although I do dread having to read your drivel on a regular basis, nidan1 here is not exactly sending sending the turns at the speed of light, although ironically that is exactly what he's doing if he's using fibres. I think I'll risk it, my super-duper free webmail account still lets me add more email filters.

We've talked about you just typing random thoughts, haven't we?

You need to stop it.

And get off the crystal meth.

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