Hating on the $EC - Mostly Alabama (and a little Georgia too)

[Wild Hoss]

It is certainly clear what buttons pushes AA.. talk about taking things out of context.

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Little bit, yeah.

Keep an eye on that red button.

[AlabamAlum]

Yeah, no. No buttons. Just theater. Never take any of my message board diatribes seriously. They are always out of boredom. Always.

Or maybe I am really mad!

[hack]

I did love the chess/cigar story. But why are all you people such incorrigible liars?

[AlabamAlum]

Liar? No, I was at the chess tournament. I merely embellished a part of the event. It's all degrees. Speaking of degrees. I have a degree of sadness today. A dark anniversary. Here's the story:

I spent my formative years on the subcontinent, as my father was a major in the British Army and stationed in India during the Second Opium War. Once, while he was away on campaign, I was tasked to eliminate a streak of rogue tigers who had been killing the villagers in a place called Bharatpur. My houseboy, Culay, was my faithful servant on this expedition. The journey was a hard day's travel and we made a hasty camp to get some rest. But before I could finish my tea, a village woman named Qaddie ran in and shouted that tigers were attacking. We quickly followed and after killing three of the beasts, I set my sights on the fourth -and last- but unfortunately my gun jammed. Thinking and moving on instinct, I drew my knife and leapt on the back of the behemoth. My blade found his carotid, and dealt a mortal blow, but not before the tiger had mauled poor Culay. As the tiger fell, I rushed to my servant's side and surmised that his wounds would likely prove fatal.

Nonetheless, I thus began a frantic search for help when I happened upon Sgt. Gunny McDonald, a deserter from the Scottish regiment that had been under my father's command. Gunny thought I was a part of a team to bring him back, so he attacked, but I kept my wits about me and killed him with a Kimura Lock.

Afterwards, I rifled through the dead sergeant's supplies to find something -anything- that would help abate Culay's pain, and found a bottle of Drambuie among Gunny's things. I ran back to my camp faster than I had ever ran before, but upon arrival I found that Culay had died while I was gone. Grief-stricken, I sat down and drank the whole bottle before making my way back to the base.

Now, every January 5th, I toast a glass of Drambuie to the memory of Culay. As god is my witness....

[hack]

My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon; luge lessons. In the spring we'd make meat helmets.

[AlabamAlum]

Great quote. made the movie worthwhile.

[Wild Hoss]

Yeah, no. No buttons. Just theater. Never take any of my message board diatribes seriously. They are always out of boredom. Always.

Or maybe I am really mad!

You are a complicated fellow. A Picasso-on-bath salts. A four-dimensional maze. A one-color Rubic's Cube.

[AlabamAlum]

HOW DARE YOU!

A one-color Rubik's cube is not complicated.

[Wild Hoss]

Sure it is....you never know if its right. Or wrong. Its like calling pass plays for Trace McSorley.

[AlabamAlum]

It is always right. It can never be wrong.

Unless, the monochromatic cube is the wrong color.

[Wild Hoss]

Depends on your definition of right and wrong; if "right" is its initial, out-of-the-box state, it would be quite difficult to achieve once altered, with same-colored squares. But that rarely happens anyway, so yes, a better metaphor is required.

[AlabamAlum]

Hmmm...

[iam416]

Cede not an inch to the Mississippian lest he feed thee thy own guts by the yard.

[entropy]

wait... is AA saying being the same color is always right?

[Wild Hoss]

wait... is AA saying being the same color is always right?

I'm not touching that one.