( ´ω`) hello again, kids!

(・∀・) That was an awesome 1000GET, Grandpa!

(　･ิω･ิ) Hey there dad, junior. Where's Igewal?

　 _ 　∩
(　ﾟ∀ﾟ)彡　three weeks! three weeks!
　⊂彡

( ´ω`) I thought it was 5 weeks.

>>2 ( ´ω`) Thanks, Junior. I wanted to end it with me exploding but I couldn't find the AA in time.

　 _ 　∩
(　ﾟ∀ﾟ)彡　You mean! Two weeks!
　⊂彡

(・∀・) By the way grandpa, I forgot to ask before, but... life, internet, before etc?

( ´ω`) You're not making sense! What are you trying to get at?

( ´ω`) Wait! I think I get it...

( ´ω`) You're lusting for my manmeat, aren't you?

(・∀・)

(・∀・) WHAT WAS LIFE LIKE BEFORE THE INTERNET YOU FUCKING GEEZER

( ´ω`) PEOPLE USED TO READ BOOKS AND WATCH TV AND GO PLACES AND HANG OUT WITH THEIR FRIENDS AND HAVE REAL SEX INSTEAD OF MASTURBATING TO THE INTERNET YOU FETID LITTLE CROTCH DROPPING.

(・∀・) oh.

(・∀・) ...I see...

(・∀・) CAPSLOCK RLY IS CRUZ CTRL 4 KUL!!!!

（´ワ｀） Hi guys!

（´ワ｀） Who is the boss here?

(・∀・) I'm the boss of you!

>>13
( ´ω`) Treat others as you would be treated, zipperhead.

(・∀・) Grandpa, you know about the Dead Milkmen?

（´ワ｀） Hey boss, buy me a beer!

( ´ω`) No, I don't about any dead milkmen; and if anyone asks you don't either!

(・∀・) Grandpa, can we get 1000GET in 3 weeks?

( ´ω`) It's possible, but you'll really have to pour on the stupid questions, kiddo.

( ´ω`) Anytime, Junior...

　　　　（　　　）　))
　　　　（（⌒ 　Sorry, Grampa. I have a bit of a problem here!
　　　(⌒(（⌒)）　　））　,
　　（⌒（　⌒ ）　⌒　）
　 　（　(（ ⌒ ））　）　　　　　
　　（(´・∀・`)　⌒）） 　　　
　　从ﾉ.::;;火;;;从;; 从））ﾞ　crackle　
　从::;;;;;ﾉ 　）;;从;;;;;从　　　　　　　crackle
从;;;;;::人 ；ﾉ;从;;;;;从人￣|
￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

　　　　　　　（　　　）　))
　　　　　　　（（⌒ 　Help me?
　　　　　　(⌒(（⌒)）　　））　,
　　　　　（⌒（　⌒ ）　⌒　）
　　　　 　（　(（ ⌒ ））　）　　　　　 　　　　Λ,,Λて
　　　　　（( ´･∀･)　⌒）） 　　　 　　　　 (´ω`； )そ
　　　　　从ﾉ.::;;火;;;从;; 从））ﾞ　burny　　(|　　　|)
　　　　从::;;;;;ﾉ 　）;;从;;;;;从　　　　 　　　　|　　　|
　　　从;;;;;::人 ；ﾉ;从;;;;;从人 　　　　　　　し' ` J
￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

　　　　　　　　　　（　　　）　))
　　　　　　　　　　（（⌒ 　I was trying to make breakfast...
　　　　　　　　　(⌒(（⌒)）　　））　,
　　　　　　　　（⌒（　⌒ ）　⌒　） 　　　　　　　　　　　　quit following me!
　　　　　　　 　（　(（ ⌒ ））　）　　　　　 　　　　　Λ,,Λ
　　　　　　　　（( ´･ω･)　⌒）） 　　　 　　　　　 ( ；´ω`)
　　　　　　　　从ﾉ.::;;火;;;从;; 从））ﾞ　sizzle　　　 ヽ⊃　⊃
　　　　　　　从::;;;;;ﾉ 　）;;从;;;;;从　　　　　　　　　人　Y
　　　　　　从;;;;;::人 ；ﾉ;从;;;;;从人 　　　　　　　　し' `J
￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　（　　　）　))
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　（（⌒ 　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　(⌒(（⌒)）　　））　,
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　（⌒（　⌒ ）　⌒　） 　　　　　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 　（　(（ ⌒ ））　）,,Λ　　Dammit Jr.!　　 　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　（(´･∀･)从 ´ω`)')　　　 　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　从ﾉ.::;;火;;;从;; 从））ﾞ　scorchy scorchy　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　从::;;;;;ﾉ 　）;;从;;;;;从　　　　　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　　从;;;;;::人 ；ﾉ;从;;;;;从人 　　　　　　　
￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

( ´ω`) Okay Junior, time to turn the TV off now.

(・∀・) Awwwww.

(・∀・) Grandpa, what goes in the email field?

( ´ω`) Fusianasan. It deletes shit threads like yours.

(´ω`) Nothing, since there is no email field.

（´ω｀） What happend to my eyes?

（´ω｀ ）Junior, where is my walking stick?

(・∀・) I broke it, lol!

( ´ω`) ...

(・∀・) Tell us a story, grandpa

( ´ω`) As the time for the attack on Hitler's Europe approached, General Omar Bradley gathered in Exeter in southern England, the officers of the U.S. divisions that were to make the assault landings in Normandy.

Bradley's purpose, no doubt, was to let us meet the man who would command the American ground forces. In the course of his talk, he sought to rouse us to the occasion by pointing out that we would have a front-row seat for the greatest military operation in history. For a few seconds there was silence. Then a roar of laughter swept across the room.

Bradley looked about, clearly puzzled. A professional soldier, he was approaching the greatest moment in his career. Most of us, however, were civilians in uniform. We were well aware that we were about to participate in a historic event. We were all concious, however, that a number of us would not witness the end of the first act of the drama that was to unfold, let alone the final curtain.

When the 4th Division, which I had joined two years earlier, went ashore at Utah Beach, on June 6, 1944, I doubt that it ever occurred to me that we could fail. After several years of intensive training in the United States, the division went to England in early 1944. There, we made a number of practice landings on the south coast at a place called Slapton Sands. This area was chosen because of its similarity to Utah Beach and its hinterland.

As the level of training intensified, so did the level of tension. Finally, the 29th Field Artillery Battalion in which I was a 24-year-old assistant intelligence officer, moved to its assembly area near Dartmouth. Those of us who had already been informed of the plans for the landing briefed the rest of the battalion.

At last the day arrived when we went to our embarkation point in the river Dart. By this time, our battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Joel F. Thomason, decided that several of us would go on the same landing craft as Colonel James Van Fleet. He commanded the 8th Infantry Regiment which made the initial assault on Utah Beach.

Van Fleet's headquarters for the crossing of the English Channel was an LCT (landing craft tank), a flat-bottomed boat just large enough to hold 4 tanks. In addition to the boat's crew, the only person who got a cabin was Van Fleet. The rest of us made out as best we could on the upper deck.

As we sailed from Dartmouth on June 4, we all assumed that the next morning would find us in France. We had not counted, however, on the weather, which, when we were at sea, turned foul. As a result of General Eisenhower's decision to delay the landing a day to allow the weather to improve, we found ourselves bobbing around in the wind and rain for an entire night. Slowly but surely seasickness took its toll. Even though I was on of the happy few who did not succumb, I was as relieved as the others to see the French coast in the gray morning light of June 6.

( ´ω`) All around us were thousands of ships and landing craft that had made their way across the Channel undetected. The reason for that, as we later learned was that the Germans had not sent out their patrol boats in the belief that no one would attempt a landing in such terrible weather.

Although we were too far out to make out what was happening on shore, the sound of loud explosions from aircraft bombs and naval shells left no doubt that the beach was an inferno.

As soon as Colonel Van Fleet got word by radio that the first waves had secured the beach and were driving inland, he announced that he was going ashore.

The run into the beach in a smaller landing craft, to which some of us transferred, was a bizarre experience. Most of us were happy to cower behind the little protection provided by the metal sides of the landing craft. One officer from regimental headquarters, however, insisted on sitting in a chair above us, where he was exposed to enemy fire. Arms folded, he announced that he did not want to miss a moment of this spectacular show. (A few weeks later, under similar circumstances, he collapsed with a bullet through his head.)

When the landing craft hit the beach and the front ramp went down, I waded through some shallow water and ran to the shelter of the seawall that ran along the beach - barely glancing at several soldiers who were lying on the sand as though asleep. I could hear rifle and machine-gun fire beyond the dunes, and some mortar shells fell not too far away.

My task, once ashore, was to guide our three artillery batteries to firing positions that we had selected in England from a detailed foam rubber relief map of the beach. After crossing the sand dunes that lay just beyond the seawall, I was unable to figure out where I was. When I asked an infantry officer to help me, he laughed and said that the Navy had landed the first wave several thousand yards south of where we were supposed to land.

Fortunately, Brigadier General Theodore Roosevelt Jr, who had joined the 4th Division shortly before the landing, had volunteered to go in with the first wave. He later told some of us that he had gone forward to reconnoiter the beach: Finding that Major General Maxwell Taylor's 101st Airborne Division, which had dropped during the night, had captured the causeways over the inundated area behind the beach. Roosevelt decided that to try to move the landing northward would only cause confusion.

As it turned out, the Navy's error was forunate. The beach on which we landed was much more lightly defended than where we were supposed to have landed and the German resistance was relatively easily overcome.

When I went back to the beach, I told Colonel Thomason that I could find only two firing positions, not three in the limited area between the sand dunes and the inundated area. As calmly as if we were on a practice landing, he said, "It's alright. We'll only need two.
B Battery hit a mine on the way in and the landing craft sank."

Before I could think too long about the 60 men on the boat, Thomason told me to get moving and guide the other batteries to their firing positions.

( ´ω`) After the batteries were in position, Thomason suggested we go inland to find the infantry. After crossing a causeway over the inundated area, we found ourselves in the middle of a field. We froze when we heard a soldier on the other side of the field shout, "Don't you fools know that you are in the middle of a minefield."

After discussing our predicament, we agreed to separate, so that if one of us stepped on a mine we would not both be blown up. It was along way to the other side of that field. Discussing this incident not long ago, Thomason and I agreed that the soldier was right. We were fools. We should have had someone clear a path out to us with a minesweeper.

Late in the afternoon, after our batteries had moved inland to support the infantry, the clear blue sky was filled with colored parachutes. From these were suspended boxes of supplies for the paratroopers. Colorful sight turned to horror, however, when the gliders, loaded with soldiers and equipment, started to circle and land. Unnerved perhaps by the German anti-aircraft fire, some of the pilots crashed their gliders into the headgerows that surround the samll field of Normandy.

Whenever I recall that scene, I can still hear the screams of pain that filled the air around me.

My last memory of that day is watching multicolored tracer bullets arch through the sky over St. Mere Eglise which had been captured by our paratroopers but was still surrounded by German forces.

I fell to sleep well after midnight in a ditch by the road - a road that would lead us first north to St. Lo. After that, we participated in the liberation of Paris, the nightmare of the Hurtgen Forest, and the crushing of the German mid-winter offensive.

After crossing the Rhine, we fought sporadic engagements until we found ourselves south of Munich. There we stopped simply because there were no more German units left to f

(-∀-) ...
(・∀・) ... I fell asleep again. Sorry. Can you start over?

( ´ω`) As the time for the attack on Hitler's Europe approached, General Omar Bradley gathered in Exeter in southern England, the officers of the U.S. divisions that were to make the assault landings in Normandy.

Bradley's purpose, no doubt, was to let us meet the man who would command the American ground forces. In the course of his talk, he sought to rouse us to the occasion by pointing out that we would have a front-row seat for the greatest military operation in history. For a few seconds there was silence. Then a roar of laughter swept across the room.

Bradley looked about, clearly puzzled. A professional soldier, he was approaching the greatest moment in his career. Most of us, however, were civilians in uniform. We were well aware that we were about to participate in a historic event. We were all concious, however, that a number of us would not witness the end of the first act of the drama that was to unfold, let alone the final curtain.

When the 4th Division, which I had joined two years earlier, went ashore at Utah Beach, on June 6, 1944, I doubt that it ever occurred to me that we could fail. After several years of intensive training in the United States, the division went to England in early 1944. There, we made a number of practice landings on the south coast at a place called Slapton Sands. This area was chosen because of its similarity to Utah Beach and its hinterland.

As the level of training intensified, so did the level of tension. Finally, the 29th Field Artillery Battalion in which I was a 24-year-old assistant intelligence officer, moved to its assembly area near Dartmouth. Those of us who had already been informed of the plans for the landing briefed the rest of the battalion.

At last the day arrived when we went to our embarkation point in the river Dart. By this time, our battalion commander, Lieutenant Colonel Joel F. Thomason, decided that several of us would go on the same landing craft as Colonel James Van Fleet. He commanded the 8th Infantry Regiment which made the initial assault on Utah Beach.

Van Fleet's headquarters for the crossing of the English Channel was an LCT (landing craft tank), a flat-bottomed boat just large enough to hold 4 tanks. In addition to the boat's crew, the only person who got a cabin was Van Fleet. The rest of us made out as best we could on the upper deck.

As we sailed from Dartmouth on June 4, we all assumed that the next morning would find us in France. We had not counted, however, on the weather, which, when we were at sea, turned foul. As a result of General Eisenhower's decision to delay the landing a day to allow the weather to improve, we found ourselves bobbing around in the wind and rain for an entire night. Slowly but surely seasickness took its toll. Even though I was on of the happy few who did not succumb, I was as relieved as the others to see the French coast in the gray morning light of June 6.

( ´ω`) All around us were thousands of ships and landing craft that had made their way across the Channel undetected. The reason for that, as we later learned was that the Germans had not sent out their patrol boats in the belief that no one would attempt a landing in such terrible weather.

Although we were too far out to make out what was happening on shore, the sound of loud explosions from aircraft bombs and naval shells left no doubt that the beach was an inferno.

As soon as Colonel Van Fleet got word by radio that the first waves had secured the beach and were driving inland, he announced that he was going ashore.

The run into the beach in a smaller landing craft, to which some of us transferred, was a bizarre experience......zzzzzzzzz

( ´ω`) zzzzzzzz

( ´ω`) We heard the imperial walkers before we saw them. The slow, relentless thumping of their heavy can-shaped feet slamming into the snow and permafrost shook us to our bones (as did the bitter cold). Speeders zoomed overhead toward the enemy in a desperate bid to slow the attacking walkers down while we evacuated.

If it wasn't for the courage of our fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost.

(・∀・) ... Um, Grandpa...

( ´ω`) Don't interrupt me while I'm talking, Junior!

( ´ω`) We opened the crate, and wouldn't you know it? The goddamn panda was dead!

(・-・)Grandpa, did you forget your meds again?

( ´ω`) Sorry what was that?

( ´ω`) Anyway, we were pinned down by hostile fire, and there was no other way out, so we hit M and brought up the map and clicked on our home town and were transported back. The mission was a failure, but at least we didn't die.

( '=_=) Grandpa... Give me a French Kiss. Sluuuurrrp!

( ´ω`) Why should I, when I can 51get

( ´ω`) Anyway, then the bombs started dropping. My face was covered with mud and matt next to me was lying in a pool of blood. I knew I had to live!

( ´ω`) ... Ehem.. Junior I need to go to bathroom, where is my walking stick?

(・∀・) I broke it, remember?

( ´ω`) s/™/™

(・∀・) ZOMG ROFL! YOU STILL USE 70@s technology gramps.

( ´ω`) I'll crush you with my cabinet stereo, you little scamp.

( ´ω`) When ah think 70's, juniah...I suddenly feel lie singin'...

( ´ω`) Well, it’s one for the money,
( ´ω`) Two for the show,
( ´ω`) Three to get ready,
( ´ω`) Now go, cat, go.

( ´ω`) But don’t you step on my blue suede shoes.
( ´ω`) You can do anything but lay off of my blue suede shoes.

( ´ω`) Well, you can knock me down,
( ´ω`) Step in my fazZZZZZzzzzzzZzzzz

( ´ω`) ZzzzZzzz

(・∀・) o O (Grandpa's asleep... now time to sneak out....)

( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω`)
( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω`) <Hello, kids!

( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω`)
( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω)( ´ω`) <Did we ever tell you about our experiences training agent smith?

( ´ω`) Junior, did I ever tell you about my experiences as the hottest gay porn star of the 1950's?

(・∀・) But grandpa, I thought homosexual stuff was outlawed back then?

( ´ω`) Erm, yes...

(;´ω`) ...

(;´ω`) ...I did not have sexual relations with that man

(;´ω`) ...or that dog, or that goat....

(・∀・) Grandpa, this Welsh Corgy is at the door, claiming to know you from way back. What should I tell him?

( ´ω`) We were all very drunk, and in the dark he look just like one of the female Windsors.

(・∀・) Grandpa, you need to listen.

(´ω`) I've always been fond of dogs.

( ´ω`) What's the problem, junior? Don't you like dogs?

(・∀・) I don't like it when you ask me to pretend to be one, grandpa!

( ´ω`) Nonsense. You enjoyed it enough last thread. Now put on the collar!

(・∀・) Make me do it you wrinkled leather!

( ﾟ ヮﾟ) Hey did I ever tell you that I was a professional dominatrix before getting into the mitten business?

( ﾟ -ﾟ) No, wait...

(; ﾟ -ﾟ) ...

(ﾟ- ﾟ ) ...

(・∀・) wtf is dominatrix is anyway???

(;´ω`) It's what my wife was, back when she was actually attractive..

( ´ω`) Ah... those were the days...

( ´ω`) ...

(；´Д｀)ﾊｱﾊｱ

(　･ิω･ิ) Not in public, Dad, please...

>>72
http://www.crueldominatrix.com/splash_pix/we1070.jpg

(・∀・) I don't mind. I do it all the time.

(；´Д｀)ﾊｱﾊｱ (；´Д｀)ﾊｱﾊｱ Dual Action!

(・∀・) Excuse for my post but I do not have money to buy meal to my children. Forgive me please.

(・∀・) Excuse for my post but I do not have money to buy children. Give me to my meal please for.

( ´ω`) That was a sneaky 80get.

(　･ิω･ิ) You're grounded, young man.

ヘ(・ω・　）...
　　　ヽνヽ:::... 　
　　　　＜　＼;::...

( ´ω`) Look at Clonepa scurrying around like an idiot. Guffaw, guffaw!

(・∀・) Grandpa, any advice for the current American administration?

( ´ω`) Jam it in.

( ´ω`) Juice it up.

( ´ω`) Get jiggy wit' it.

( ´ω`) Jack it and stack it.

(・∀・) So you're saying that's the best way to run a country?

( ´ω`) Huh, I thought you said the "current American administration"?

(・∀・) Ahahaha how witty!

(・∀・) Grandpa! Grandpa! The Easter Bunny came and left chocolate and jellybeans! Did he bring you anything?

( ´ω`) Yes; make-it-yourself rabbit stew.

(・∀・) Phew, for a moment there, I thought you meant hare stew, suggesting that you ate the easter bunny.

( ´ω`) I still have its foot if you want a lucky charm, kiddo.

(・∀・) Never mind that, grandpa. I went to Yoshinoya.

( ´ω`) Did you get me some ramen, or did you go through the usual hassle of ignorant folk there, not getting what you wanted?

(・∀・) I got just what you asked for! It even has the little octopus bits in it!

( ´ω`) Yummy!

(　･ิω･ิ) 100get.