Faced with the overwhelming military might of his adversaries Birman was forced to attack them at a place not of his choosing known as The Golden Chopstix II, a fine family dining establishment owned and operated by Dragon Lady, a well known and greatly admired sportswoman, celebrity chef, entrepreneur, raconteur, fryfisherlady and ninja, who was assisted by many of the crack shots, crackpots, and hangers on from the SGF @ AR, who were the deadliest bunch of crat killers and storytellers ever assembled in one establishment up to that time, unless it was the old Paradise Club on the outskirts of___________City, where many of the boys had vacationed in their youth, while awaiting a ride back home. The victorious allied cat offenders shot Birman to pieces to the effect that he simply disappeared off the crt for all practical purposes, while legends and epochal tales of trick shooting, knife throwing, and the rike smoke arts of the ninja circulated widely in the zone of the unknown, or at least in the inner outer space area between the ears or at least the beers of many of the participants. Then an imposter called birman xo appeared in a bumbling and arrogant manner, making all kinds of ludicrous threats and utterances of destruction, claiming herds of cat followers and hareem subjects, both of which were well known to be outright stupid statements in view of the facts that cats are not herd capable, or hareem capable for that matter. This b-xo frittered what little initiative he had away jousting with a killer dog, who cleaned his clock, various posters, his own helpers and just turned out to be a real dingle off a berry in a litter box. So the second battle, to be called the Battle of Caterloo never happened.

Can I take some classes on run-on sentences at your school NS? A new standard has been raised, one I dispair to equal, even in the presence of others of the Crat Blasters Clan, known to hang out in the ether of cybespace, or in 10-Forward aboard the Enterprise, consorting with Klingons, Cardascians, Vulcans and Tribbles, sharing Thulosian Wine(Star Date 2603-84) and dining on Campbell's Pork and Beans from the MRE's.

Dan

Pres. TYHC

http://www.WellToldTail.Ned

Truly in the style of Sir Edward Bulwer-Lytton (think of Snoopy and his "It was a dark and stormy night....").

Bravo N.S Bravo!
Stories like that can be handed down for years to come!!

quote:

Star Date 2603-84) and dining on Campbell's Pork and Beans from the MRE's.

Would those be MRE's circa 1960s?

Could be, some things never change, and Army chow is more immutable than the Rock of Gibralter.


Dan

PRes., TYHC

http://www.Yuk.Tooie

I always liked c-rats, except for ham and M.F.'s. That was the nastiest concoction ever put in a can ...

Of course, getting stabbed in the chest with a P-37 is no fun either ...

I still have like 3 or 4 nasty scars from mine, which became infected in the field.

Then I switched to using my Ka-Bar. Truly a better can opener has yet to be invented.

I was at work last week really wishing I had one of those p-37's as I woefully looked at my can of dinty moore beef stew that had prevailed over my p.o.s. turn key opener,and was pondering how many metal filings I was going to eat if I ground the top off with the bench grinder When a co-worker walked in and I saw his gerber wonder pliers hanging on his belt,,and shure as shoot'in it had a can opener Clay

In my memory, they were P-38s, but I might have slipped a digit or two.

quote:

Originally posted by dustoffer:
In my memory, they were P-38s, but I might have slipped a digit or two.

You might be right, dustoffer ......

My memory isn't what it used to be ....

I'm starting to think I'm the man I remember I was.


.............. who are we talking about?

Yessir, to the best of my recollection, that would be a P-38, sometimes referred to as a John Wayne...... But I might be wrong as I spent a great deal of that time drunk.......

no shit sherlock. you are correct that the battle never occurred unless you consider the drumken ranting of failed miserable humans to be reality. we very much prefer to wait until you idiotic humans have intoxicated yourselves into oblivion, then helping you finish the journey. if you think the infections from your simple tool is serious, i can assure you that when my soldiers get finished with you that infection will seem like a simple case of the clap. our weapons are loaded with toxins not cured by a simple shot. continue to amuse yourselves all you like, but we are well beyond the critical tipping point where we shall dominate your kind. fools.

purrrrrrrrrrr time to go howl up another willing mother for my soldiers.

That's Non Sequitur Sherlock if you must know, numbnuts. The Joke is on you!

Mr. Rast Prace Pussy, you smoke much Park Lane. Maybe you hang out Nguyen Quai Sporting Palace someday. Missy Quai teach you howr. BAH! You are furr of worm! You howr because berry hurt! HA HA! Enjoy beau coup misery Mr. Fat Berry! HA HA!
Rate at night when you sweat in bed and bug crawr on face, that when Dragon Lady come for you. Brack as night, make no sound. You feer sting when katana srice and dice. But onry for rittre whire. Best Li can do for sorry pussy rike you, but think too good. Maybe Li use durr P38 instead. Gunny show Li this trick one night when he kirr whore battarion of numba 10 NVA. You remember this sorry pussy, Li come for you.

Hey teflon--

How's that song go? "I'm not as good as I once was, but I'm as good once as I ever was." Sort of sums it up for me right now.