“A difficult night personally. The sounds of Motorhead Europe and Black Sabbath certainly helped though. One of those games where I felt like I was caught in the middle and could not gain ground as I was getting knocked down too much when I wasnt rolling. Sometimes the bar he eats you. I feel like we may need to make a change to our quorum rules going forward if three of our illustrious group intend to sire further greasy spawn in the not so distant future. So long as Marty can hold out and refrain from reversing his earlier no touch procedure it looks like he and I may be the only regular attendees unless at this advanced age all these prospective fathers will be able to better assert themselves than we were able when we were young pups in our 20s and 30s. My jukebox requests for next game at Shanes place are Scorpions Boston and Grand Funk Railroad.”
“Dilemmas. Stay put and fight from the South America homeland. Spread myself too thin flushing out the widespread North American black. Or use my mass against the blue mass of Europe. I could have got black or blue cards but then pink would own them the next turn... Slow flight to Australia. How will it turn out. So slowly... Then breakout against the apparently demoralized and diminished blue. Apparently demoralized and diminished. What a stand. It left me demoralized and diminished. Nothing against the pink and black barbarians at the gate. So black moves misses Afghanistan MISSES AFGHANISTAN and narrowly wipes out Australia. But ACCIDENTALLY LEAVES AN ARMY IN SIAM. AND...AND...uses the advance to India and WINS ONE ON ONE for the elimination.”
“Well...It was one of those games... 15 attack kills but I was made to feel like I was doing something wrong when attacking so I stopped...no more...strategy above all else from here on out... Feelings be damned... I hope not... But fuck it... Its just a fucking game... Fuck it... Right in the pipes....”
