It is done. Red A and Cueball Malv thought they could challenge the strategic capabilities of Michael and I. When all was done, Russia had crumbled like a cheap cookie, and America had flailed its fleets about impotently in the Pacific to no effect. As they left my house, Red A muttered about the need for "more chickens", in what I assume was a reference to his Santeria practice. Malv cried like a little girl after losing, then went home to put on his favorite pink sun dress, and play with his dolls. I hear that's what he always does when he is blue.
Best lines of the day:
Red A: They changed all the pieces. This doesn't look anything like an American World War II fighter.
Michael Turton: THAT IS A P-38! Here is the window, you may leave any time you like.
As it turns out, Mr. Turton knows more about WWII than you, me, or any normal person. But he knows how to effectively combine air and sea forces to optimum advantage, so I'll not hold it against him.
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4 comments:
Really great time today! I've blogged the game, along with 100% truthful commentary, typical of the Internet, and several award-winning images.
Michael
Axis and Allies. Oh, the horror.
Karl,
I couldn't find my favorite pink dress when I got home. Are you EVER gonna return it? And next time please WASH the Barbie dolls when you're done.
I admit that I didn't play well. But it's good that get to you win sometimes. Time will tell. The "unholy ass-whuppin' [I] got last month" exists only in your imagination. So, bite me.
I will blame the beer Karl plied me with.
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