Warpcon?

well your not really going to use the alcohol unles you real realy need to right?
try ripping up beer mat into tiny tiny teensy peices and using instead of the flour.

IF you really only have alcohol best it be something flamible and create a ring of fire,
or a great ring of wetness and hope it slips on it's invisible ass or watches for splashes in the puddles.

or get hamered close your eyes and listen
you will either hear it and kill it or you will never see it coming for you and die
quietly.

Sarky wrote:

Yeeeeeees...

But what if you only have alcohol?

Tsk. Everyone knows that if you drink enough alcohol, you can see things that aren't there...

More Galwegians than I knew we had are signed up and ready to go. Mmm, fun.

I'll happily meet all the boardsie types for a drink. Or possibly a game together. Who knows?

It can't be an Epic camera then. You'll need a few million more gold pieces.

I am recording the events of the whole weekend in haiku form.

I also met Nesf, Thaed, and Specky. Nesf is currently handing my ass to me on a plate in Dawn Of War.

I'm having fun...

It turns out I met Al][en as well, but only after Boardsie fell tit over arse. Nice folks, all of you.

Behold, Warpcon in haiku form!

Fine, so some of them aren't real haikus. OK, most of them aren't. But you'd be amazed how boring the bus home is when you can't get to sleep because Tank Girl is playing on a really dodgy telly and won't let you sleep... Most of them are joint written by myself and a fellow called Bryan, except for one or two cases dealt with later.



Like winter's gloom,
Pot Noodle's not for eating,
Ages in the loo.


Life of a sandbag,
Damp and gunshot absorbant.
Can I be one too?


Turned volume up full!
Sorrow for lack of talent.
Tolerant busman.


Sometimes murder's good;
If I hear one more cover,
Hitler's second Spring!


Beamish Red awaits,
Alcohol is own reward.
Quick as Spring, to pub!


Wet floors stink of pee,
The dryer blows wint'ry cold air.
Porcelain horror.


As the sparrow flies,
Yet it craps upon my head,
Vine held coconnut.


Winter sun blinds me!
Must I gouge my eyes out?
Or someone else's?


Dwelling of red brick,
Holding Autumn-gold treasures,
And perhaps a duck.


Finally in Cork!
The horror, Jim, the horror,
It'd melt your face.


Much innuendo!
"Will game for food", says her shirt.
Fozzle strikes again.


No Beamish Red here!
My Murphy's is gone so flat,
I fear I may weep. *


French hostel man,
Where is the Beamish Red, huh?
"Je ne sais pas rien!"


When's the table quiz?
What the hell is the delay?
That shower o' bastards...


Why did I come here?
I could be playing Four Swords.
Oh yeah, It's Warpcon! **


Fifteen minutes late,
The table quiz still absent.
Blood may just be spilled.


What is our team name?
I had a good suggestion,
But I forgot it.


George Lucas at work?
Dopplegangers posing in bar!
Attack of Brian's clones.


It's a half-ork life:
Hilarious D&D,
With Storm Giant toddlers.


Meet John Kovalic,
A very, very nice man.
He signed our card games.


Such embarrassment.
"Keep back, she's got manflesh! Oops..."
Again, poor Fozzle.


Edel, Mac and Mike,
Appearing in the old bar!
Alas, we are shunned...


Meeting many people,
Some are nice, others moreso.
"Come to Itzacon!"


Spectres: Ancient Hordes!
A nice game by Diddlysquat.
GM amused by me.


Crust, gold as Autumn,
Wondrous treats await inside,
Glorious toastie.


I won some prizes!
As did much of Galway crew.
We cleaned up again.

*Written by Fozzle

**Written by Mikey (Not a boards member).