Ihz's ohn!!

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

Continuing our glorious battle from this thread comment...
http://www.scottsigler.com/node/1110#comment-81273

Having just realized in the last few days what being a pusher was, as we congratulated our lady belladonna on that occasion most auspicious, I too yearn with unbridled passion for that status as well. Your own idle attitude towards advancement belies your laggard's nature. Lighting a fire under you was not intended as an act of encouragment! Nay, 'twas intended as immolation must foul.

Yes, I showed up and changed your world. This appears to have come to a shock to you, as I  caught your pitiful tribe by surprise. You now try to rally your wretched folk in some pitiable defense against the coming onslaught. This is not news to me, though. My introduction and presence has that sort of affect on flora and fauna alike. Athansonia is not the first, nor will it be the last to succumb to my irresistable charm. Force! I mean force! Irreststable force. This latest conquest will shine as yet another trophy on my mantle. I refer you to the battle of Staigue Fort: http://web.mac.com/bigjohnv/Ireland/Ireland/pages/page_172.html.

You may rape all the cattle you feel necessary, though I don't quite understand your village's customs. If you plan to spoil the land before I purge you of it, that's to be expected. Please just make sure the cattle are of a suitable age, and parental consent, though not required, is at least requested.

My own 6-foot-1, 240 pound frame appears well matched against yours. Our battle will surely fell many misguided warriors fighting in your defense. Those poor souls indeed will spend eternity in Hel, while I watch from on high, having left you far, far behind as I reflect on this trifling conquest. You may seek entrance to Valhalla, but since I've already taken over the place, I'm closing its doors to you and yours. The Valkryie and I have an...arrangement, which includes visitation and 15 football games per year.

In the meantime, as I prep for battle and unleash volley after volley, you'll find yourself gradually losing ground. For your advancement at this stage is one of logrithmic increase; I jump leaps and bounds with ease, leaving more and more junkies behind in my advance, while you struggle and struggle to crawl just one more position.

Overtake you? Inevitable.

Win? A foregone conclusion.

Sharpen your blade, sir. The battle commences.

BigJohn

I knew what a pusher was.  I was content on getting there as He (the almighty evil lord of evilly evil, the beloved FDO) saw fit, his will be done, and all that other bullshit I’m pilfering from preexisting religious sayings and prayers.  My goal was to live harmoniously with those around me and reap the benefits of toil, backbreaking labor, and intermarriage with the locals.

But you had to fire the first volley at the peaceful folks of Athanasonia, and I quote, “I'm riding the crazy crack train up from the bottom of page 2. I'm gunnin' for ya, athanas!”  At no time did anyone threaten you.  At no time did anyone throw a stone at you, call you a smell doo-doo head, or offer you a cigar that exploded in an unsuspecting yet hilarious fashion.  You, sir, were the aggressor, so lament to no one when the Smackdown Bomb™ obliterates your castle built in the swamp.

My people have rallied against your “threat” and will soon stomp you out, forcing you back to whatever dregs birthed you in the first place.  This “charm” you speak of is nothing more than the funk of week old cheese left in a rotting ‘possum’s gullet that you appear to have stepped and tracked along the floor, sullying the proper medicinal growing soil that I’ve created here.

Nor was I bragging about my features; that was to merely show you that while you speak of Valhalla and Ragnarok, generations of viking blood flows through my veins giving me insight from the ancients, noble savages and warriors whose sole purpose in life was to create me to stand against your uprising. 
And while I am trained in viking broad sword combat (yeah, for real; was with a historical recreation society for a bit and learned how to fight with a viking sword) I will need not a blade to best you.  My fists, arms, and groin are registered as deadly weapons in any country that doesn’t use chickens as currency.  I am a submission wizard and while my broadsword will be used to disarm you, the real pain will come from stretching your joints in ways they weren’t meant to bend.

You will obviously pass those lesser than me on your ascension as I will do the same.  The day may come where you are listed right below me.  The day you are listed above me?  Preposterous.  Impossible.  Unachievable.

Accept your status as “lower than athanas”.  You will find peace much sooner that way.

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

Break the crack hit barriers before you! It is the most awesome feeling you can imagine. In doing so, beware the trap of posting nonsensical posts just to post and feed your crack addictions. Posts like that have been know to be eaten by digital ANCESTORS that hide in the background of the site. And as some of us know, I first hand, It hurts most painfully to have your CH's eaten and removed from your tally.

But really, the best feeling, the very best feeling, is reaching the highest heights of crackwhoredness to then give just give them all away and start the epic trek again. That is, once the Crack Hit a giver starts working again..... 

[flickr-photo:id=3718433600,size=m]
KISS'd by Sigler.  Honored recipient of the "Iron Man" Award. Pusher twice over.

UNdead Advisor to the King Of UNdead fo

This could end up being reminiscent of the great mumo00 vs. wallerdad showdown that also merited it's own thread. ;)

"Urban legends go well with parmesan and horror. In fact their name is conveniently one and the same: Stevie." {UNdead GirlCo Knight for Sigler}

Let the games begin! We can always use some good flamery and insults to laugh at and join in on. But these guys are using some pretty big words for me. :p

Hey IBS, sorry I didnt stop and say hi to you at Norman. I didnt recognize you as I think (smack me if I'm wrong, you know how men or a least I am about things like that) you changed your hair style?

[flickr-photo:id=3718433600,size=m]
KISS'd by Sigler.  Honored recipient of the "Iron Man" Award. Pusher twice over.

UNdead Advisor to the King Of UNdead fo

while it may be white collar now, I have a feeling this will end up quite low brow before it's all said and done.

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

I will await the time that It becomes low brow enough for my participation. That is if its not a private party! :)

[flickr-photo:id=3718433600,size=m]
KISS'd by Sigler.  Honored recipient of the "Iron Man" Award. Pusher twice over.

UNdead Advisor to the King Of UNdead fo

My intial statement was no call for attack, simply a stating of the obvious. Consider it a friendly ring-ring on my plaid bicycle's bell as I politely alert you to the oncoming traffic of mindless blathering. But did you step to the side, as would be the polite thing to do? No. You took it as a personal attack, as befits your Viking ancestors. Fearing ducks everywhere they looked, they fled their cozy nordic homes in search of places without the monstrous fowl that caused them to cower and quake so. That genetic quirk (quack?) pervades your soul even today, as you overreact to the slightest breach of normalcy or hint of progress. I'm embarrassed to say I saw you in the grocery store just the other day, unwilling to offer your place in line to the kind, little old lady with only the peppermint toothpaste to purchase, forcing her to wait behind your mountains of toilet paper, hemorrhoid cream, toe fungus medicine, cheap kentucky bourbon and Bit-o-honey by the pound.

In the name of progress, I implore you to step aside and renounce your fuddy-duddy ways! We're in the 21st century now; those who stand still or meander without purpose will stagnate and wither (apparently you, judging from the rank, malodorous stench wafting in a cloud around you, may have reached a stage of composting heretofore unexperienced by eco-knight and forest floor alike) shall be trampled by the youthful mob, moshing their way ever fore- and upward. Had you been content to merely step aside whilst I pogo'd by, this bloodshed, mental torment and rapacious caterwauling might never have happened.

So don't blame me for your misplaced attachment to the past. I guarantee you that the new order will be happy to place you and your lethal body parts into a museum of quaint antiquities, ever to be polished to a bright sheen for tomorrow's youth to glance at on their way to duddies even fuddier than you. They may (though I find it unlikely) see fit to impart their tired, chewed gum onto the edifice of your pathetic diorama, and you'll be happy for the attnetion, brief and fleeting tho it may be.

Find yourself an appropriately sized hole in a tree, and wait for the storm to pass you by. You probably can find a knotted hole large enough to fit you, but feel free to use your Athanas Kung-Fu Grip upon the trunk to expand the space to accommodate your oversized head, filled to near-bursting with self-important aggrandizing. I promise to leave all the trees alone as I barrel through your forest. I won't disturb your slumber, nor will I taunt you with repetitive knock-knock jokes when I discover your hidey-hole.

Sleep on, athanas. Good night to you. When you awaken, the faraway storm on the horizon will be closer still. You might think of the comforting rain to come, but don't forget that storms have a way of tossing little sticks about.

BigJohn

Just like Gallagher!!  But without the hammer and watermelon, and with much, much more (I hope) blood!!!!  How do I get front row seats to this bad boy?!?!?!?  Or should I say bad boys???

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Pusher and [flickr-photo:id=3938763689,size=m] & the Gutter Sistren.

A new flame space!!
I see BigJohn saying and I see athanas saying and it all ending with
Sweet!!
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I am Gmork, professional multitasker and smorker

In 4 southern states of the US, saying "I'm comin' for ya" constitutes hostilities and not only will you be exonerated for doing so, you are legally obligated to shoot that person 18 times.  Trying to say "it's all a joke" after the fake doesn't change the fact that you're still dead, son, half-past or otherwise.

Mindless blathering I will give you as your prose can be likened to a herpetic Jane Austin hepped up on quaaludes and malt liquor.  Entertaining, to be sure, but not worthy of a NY Times Best Sellers slot.

As for your misinformation in regards to the vikings, I will have to correct you post haste.  Tired of raping and pillaging their own villages (this would be like you saying "Hey, it's Tuesday, let's go steal Bill's TV and pull a train on his wife") they had the testicular fortitude to redefine long distance ocean travel for the sake of carnage, carnal lust, and getting paid by limp wristed Frenchmen who were none to keen on being the object of their affection.  My friend, that is a society of ass whippers and the art of ass whippery runs through my blood.  you will feel it's full effect as it's blasted across your face (and if you give me a minute or two, I can easily blast you again).

And again, you're back to my ass.  I'm beginning to wonder what you're going on about and if you were really more into Lion-O than you were Cheetara.  not that there's anything wrong with that, and I'm really quite flattered, but I must turn down your advances.
Maybe this is why you're showing such hostilities; you want to be with me, yet that will never be.  It's okay, you can quit me.

I have no fuddy duddy ways.  At a prime 28 years of age (29 as of March 18th; mark your calender, as I expect plenty of presents and/or adulation) I am far more cynical than my years, but a fuddy duddy, I am not.  I drive too fast, love too hard, and fight to deadly to be considered an FD. 
 
One thing I will give you, however, is I have a ginormous nugget.  Seriously.  Donkey Kong ain't got shit on my head.  I feel sorry for my mother as I wasn't a C-section, and that had to suck.

And I will sleep well as I spent a splendid evening with a lovely young woman ingesting far too much $1 sushi at the local parlor tonight.  And that rumbling of a storm you think will be coming will just be your indigestion as your insides will begin to curdle knowing that no matter what you do or how hard you try you will NEVER beat me.

Tomorrow shall be round two and a further test of styles.  Sleep well, you'll need your rest.

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

a fly in my ointment.
or a small frog in my bag of salad.

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

I think you know where my mind went....to the gutter!  

[flickr-photo:id=3718433600,size=m]
KISS'd by Sigler.  Honored recipient of the "Iron Man" Award. Pusher twice over.

UNdead Advisor to the King Of UNdead fo

The bloodshed is so damn entertaining!

• Proud Member of GirlCo, Evil Incarnate, and Pastry Princess

can someone get me a towel?

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

Dawn of a New Day

The sun is up, minutes pass

Big John, where are you?

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

I'm here, don't worry.

If you're afraid of the dark,

I will hold your hand.

BigJohn

Dark, schmark, it’s daytime

I was afraid you’d run off

Fearing your demise

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

"get my box stuffed"!!! 

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Pusher and [flickr-photo:id=3938763689,size=m] & the Gutter Sistren.

I was distracted

when stepping so gingerly

over a junkie

BigJohn

Or was that a request?

BigJohn

constant distractions

lie everywhere.  only true

champions forge through

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the trick to staying sane is to just out-crazy the world

Beware, athanas:

Your tenuous, shrinking lead

Is now eleven

BigJohn

Time to watch your back

Your friends are my agents, like

Your well-armed monkey

BigJohn