Sunday, October 28, 2012
BACKGROUND:
The Tuskers, a renowned pirate entity in the wondrous universe of NEW EDEN put on a frigate fest for the ages yesterday afternoon (California Pacific time) centered primarily in the Jovainnon and Hevrice system in Verge Vendor.
There was a field of wreckage strewn about in the Jov system that would cause a salvagers heart to leap for joy and that pays ready testament to the truth in my glowing characterization above.
There are many, infinitely more qualified and skilled individuals armed with insider knowledge and facts, that can present a more thorough and complete picture of the happenings.
The details on the lustrous event I will leave to others to chronicle for the readers of this blog post.
No doubt Tusker Titans like Suleiman Shouaa and Dian Lung will undertake that task on their own blogs.
I wait with great anticipation to read their narratives!
http://www.the-tuskers.info/
Being a ghetto dwelling, barrio-spawned hoodrat, all I can do is tell you in the vernacular of the street is that it was a primo party VATOS!
Laughs all around for sure.
I will say no more on the tactical side of the event, or comment on ship fittings, or combat tactics, or speak of the logistics nightmare it must have been to plan such an event. (my admiration for the Devil's Tattoo Joe Struck has grown immensely as he runs a similiar event for the Devil's Tatto alliance)
I have never been shy about expressing my heart felt opinion that the "HUMAN ELEMENT" is ALWAYS the source of the more compelling stories in events such as these, and indeed, in EVE ONLINE as a whole.
Without you, the people of NEW EDEN, and your intriques and back room machinations, these events would be nothing more than a sterile compiled list of KILLMAILS.
Who the fuck cares about that?
I know I don't, at least not beyond taking a cursory glance at such a list.
Tell me about the people involved. They are the source of the real drama and tension.
Thats what I care about and many have intimated to me that they also want to know and read about the people and not the just about cold metallic ships.
And to be sure, I certainly am not referring solely to the exploits of known EVE luminaries and GAME GODS whose very presence often cause many of us to act like paparazzi as exemplified by our zeal to quickly raise our cameras and ready our autograph books.
We all love a celebrity.
No, I am talking about people who toil daily with the struggles of life in this brutal universe.
Those of us without 2 ISK to rub together.
Those who struggle just to keep a T1 frig in modules and their concubine of the day in fresh intra-uterine phrophylaxis.
Those of us who do not and cannot make it look easy and who do not have every excruciating detail of the complex intricate minutiae of this game at their fingertips. (How do you savants do it?)
Those of us who cannot generate graphs or spreadsheets or discuss cogently mathematically based game formulae with any sense of reason or intrinsic skill.
People like me.
All I can ever produce is pseudo-academic polish.
A fine veneer but not genuine.
There are some real geniuses tooling around in our space.
I don't need to mention names.
EVE geniuses know who they are.
A heightened sense of self-awareness is one trait of a genius.
Their EGO is driven by this sense.
But enough generic pontificating.
Back to the TUSKER FRIG FEST.
As I alluded to above, there are PLOTS and there are sub-plots always playing out at these festivals.
I will relay a short narrative that spells out the storyline of three players in the event, one of them who
many will recognize as a GAME GIANT.
I am talking about myself (sadly a mere footnote in this game), a corpmate of mine and newly minted R1FTA director named VINCENT R'LYEH, and the PvP legend MIURA BULL.
While the larger drama unfolded in the systems, a similiar drama writ small, involving the three blokes mentioned above was also playing out.
To be sure, the impact of what happened to Vincent and Lhorenzho was small potatoes to the great BULL, but since he had a passing involvement, I have included that SUPERHERO here as well.
Just remember that he cares as much about us as a picnic goer concerns himself with two ants wrestling over a bread crumb.
THE LHORENZHO-R'LYEH feud: (when midgets collide)
Many of you may have a corpmate that is a thorn in your side.
If you do, then I don't need to elaborate on just how aggravating they can be.
You want to pop their asses.
They seem to live to harrass you and to lower your quality of life becomes their raison d'etre.
That fucking Vinny has taken on that role recently and subsequent to his recent promotion he has quite frankly become insufferable!
To make matters worse, he has read, synthesized, and digested every word of the BRUTOR BULLFIGHTER's recent blog about SMACK TALK.
http://brutorbullfighter.blogspot.com/2012/10/a-clear-and-concise-guide-to-winning.html
Yes, I know, the BULL was toying with his adoring public and most of us, even those dregs of EVE society he disdains got it.
BUT NOT R'Yleh! He took the message to heart and I became his test subject.
SMACK SMACK SMACK is all I have heard for weeks.
We have had a long running feud, me and this Vincent cat.
In all honesty it predated this event.
Years ago we agreed to a best two out of three challenge match hoping that we could leave our differences on the field of battle.
To date that strategy has not worked.
We have been deadlocked at one win apiece for what seems like years.
Upon hearing of this TUSKER event, I realized it presented an opportunity for us to finally settle our business and promptly challenged R'Lyeh to a deciding rubber match.
The objective was this.
The loser was to leave corp and relocate to the farthest reaches of the universe.
Let me tell you, it was no easy feat for me to make it to the frig fest site, despite the motivation of ridding myself of VINNY forever.
I had forgotten about the event and had pretty much resigned myself to missing it.
But, motivated by some unsavory mocking at the hands ofVINCENT, I decided at the last minute to attend.
I jump cloned from Heild to Eugales and then in my only rifter made my way to Hevrice.
I went despite the fact that I had NO ships in the OPERATIONS areas.
I hoped to improvise and on the generosity of corpies and event organizers.
Upon arriving, I IMMEDIATELY sent a challenge out to R'yleh. "WHERE ARE YOU CABRON?"
He ignored me.
He loves his psychological games.
I cooled my heels.
I smoked cigarettes and had some drinks.
I also did some fighting.
I won some. I lost some.
The fantastic FRIG FEST was going on and I could follow the destruction as it developed by watching local, monitoring the event channel, and by logging on to the TUSKER mumble channel. (no easy feat)
Clearly, NEW EDEN lore and battles worthy of eternal glory were being created on the larger stage.
But off broadway, another battle was about to begin.
The human story involving the bit players.
My communicator beeped.
R'lyeh was now ready to engage!
Finally.
We agreed to a combat site in system.
He tried to fleet me.
I LOL'd at that pathetic attempt to get range on me. I refused the fleet invite and he protested.
He was in an atron.
I was in my trusty cookie cutter Rifter.(the greatest tool since the swiss army knife)
I must say, I reminded myself of the greatest, the one and only MUHAMMID ALI, as I danced like an IRON BUTTERFLY and stung his ass like a 425 pound bumblebee. (Gastric bypass pending!)
I wanted to punish him and truth be told, I carried him like Ali did to Ernie Terrel!
"WHAT'S MY NAME VINCENT?"......"WHAT's MY NAME?" I yelled (much like my Idol Ali did those millenia ago) as I my 150's battered his Atron.
"WHAT'S MY NAME!!!!??" rat tat tat mofo!!
The results speak for themselves:
http://eve.battleclinic.com/killboard/killmail.php?id=17787391
I will help you pack your bags vato!!
Needless to say, Vinny, attempted to besmirch,taint, and de-legitimize my victory by stating that the 20 hp (1.2% of total damage) inflicted by that late arriving interloper was the reason he lost!
His ship was disintegrating when that kid took his one shot!
You CANNOT be tried for murder when you put a bullet in a corpse VINCENT!!!!
One tiny drama saw the curtain drop.
On to the next!
A tempest in a teapot? Perhaps.
The "ROB ROY":
Now to the BULL.
Genteel decorum will not permit me to air our corporate dirty laundry as I have often stated in the past.
This whole JUSTICE LEAGUE episode that has seen Da BULL abandon his R1FTA progeny and that has created immeasureable angst within the membership has been played out in our private corp forums and will not be revisited here.
Let me first state that I am admirer of Miura Bull.
I am also a HATER of MIURA BULL.
The JUSTICE leagues new "BOSS" has in the past popped a good friend of mine for no apparent reason other than pure unalderated wicked malevolence.
My dear friend, one BHANE CELESTO, was summarily popped twice by the tights-wearing self-professed superhero BULL.
Once, while my dear angelic saintly pal BHANE was holding an autograph book in one hand and a pen in the other waiting for a signature. (Yes he too admired the BULL)
QUE MALDITO BULL!!
TREACHERY!!!
I swore that I would someday impart some measure of vengeance in his name by performing the EVE equivalent of a castration on New Eden's most famous bull.
CRIA DIA anyone?
Da Bull likes to portray himself as a man of "THE PEOPLE".
I can tell you it ain't true.
He loves the trappings of wealth, power, prestige, and upper crust, who's who society.
He loves satin robes, mulberry silk sheets, Stuart Weitzman shoes, crystal encrusted royal danish cigars (bootlegged), and Camus cognac cuvee.
He relishes the thought of rubbing elbows with monied interests and people and clones of influence.
He is not of the people, rather he has become something akin to a celebrated gladiator who has left the lower depths of the coliseums and has been given free reign to walk along the marbled halls of elitism.
It is fleeting BULL.
Remember the wise words of PROXIMO in Gladiator.
"We are all but SHADOWS IN DUST!!
You get the picture?
Once again, while history was being forged on the big stage, the next episode (thank you SNOOP)was playing out in a smaller but more luxurious setting elsewhere.
I caught wind that Da Bull was meeting with some big wig friends at a private soiree in a plush, posh, private dining area in a station in HEVRICE.
I attempted to contact him via the private communicator number he had passed to me earlier.
The number turned out to be invalid and was for the mail order branch of some store called SARD MART!
(Evidently the bull is an "affiliate" and gets bonus points of some sort)
Naturally, I was steaming at this insult and decided to crash the Bull's private affair.
I made my way to HEVRICE, docked my pristine RIfter (not a mark on it after the fight with R'lyeh) in a public hangar stall, put some ISK in the meter, and angrily stormed into the main station area.
I grabbed the first hermaphrodite looking busboy I could find, pulled my monogrammed stilleto blade, and convinced her/him to tell me the location of the super secret shindig.
He sang like a bird in a gilded cage.
I took the turbo lift down to the designated floor, angrily pressed the open door button and pushed my way into the dimly lit room.
Laughter and tinkling glass sounds permeated the room as I squinted and searched the area for signs of the BULL.
The champagne fountain made a pleasant pastoral brook like sound.
There he was in a corner, seated at a huge round table, puffing on a cigar and whispering into the ear of a diamond wearing woman.
Even from my vantage point I could see he had his hand on the bitches thigh.
In a fury, I made my way to his location, toppling dessert trays along the way.
As I reached the table, I noted the velvet rope and the tuxedo wearing maitre'D type standing guard.
He held up his hand in a HALT gesture as I approached.
I did not nor could I conceal my anger.
"May I help you sir?", he asked in the most haughty uppity voice I had ever heard.
Left unsaid was..."What could YOU possibly want here?"
"I need to talk to MIURA BULL", I said through clenched teeth.
I could barely contain my wrath!
"Was Mr. BULL expecting you? Do you have an appointment?"
"NO, but I am a friend of his and this is important".
"Let me see if he can spare a moment. He is very busy right now."
He gave me another look.
He arched his eyebrows, hesitated, and then turned and made his way to the table.
He whipered in Da BULL's ear.
I could see Miura Bull peering at me and shaking his head no.
The waiter was apparently insistent as BULL then vigorously shook his hand in an insulting NO gesture and turned his back on the waiter and me and returned to his conversation!!
CABRON!!!
YOU BASTARD!!!
I did not wait for the waiter to return.
I literally ran to the table, trampling the waiter in my haste and anger.
"I am calling you out Miura!" My voice was quaking.
The Bull slowly raised his head and looked at me without a hint of recognition.
"It's me dude, Lhorenzho!"
"What do you want man?"
I wanted to reach out and slap his face but only my deepest respect and admiration for DIAN LUNG who was at the other end of the table stayed my impulse.
"You have to answer for Bhane Celesto Miura. No one pops a distant cousin of mine without paying for it"
"I have no quarrel with you Lhorena".
He had a smug grin on his face and he was still feigning that he did not know me.
"The names Lhorenzho. And I want you outside in five minutes!"
He turned his back on me.
I drew my officers side sabre, the one I took from a drunken Gallente captain, and put the tip between his shoulderblades.
He slowly turned back to face me.
"Ok, Lhorena. Have it your way. Since you appear to favor long blades shall we say first cut?"
I nodded.
He then took his open palm, slid it along the length of my blade inflicting a long but superficial cut on his palm, and held it up so that all at the table could see the crimson liquid oozing out.
The ladies at the table gasped.
"Well done!", he said to me.
Cackling laughter broke out!
There were looks of both pity and disgust on the faces of NEW EDEN's finest.
I stood there speechless and watched him as he again turned his back to me.
His hand inched ever higher on his companions thigh.
She blushed.
Her eyes filled with admiration and lust for the great BULL!
Before I could muster up a response, I was siezed by 5 burly security agents wearing JUSTC armbands.
Once out of earshot and eyesight of the high society types, I was taken to a dark anteroom and beaten.
"This one is special delivery from the boss!!" one tall bald fellow said as he plunged his gloved hand into my protuberant gut.
I was then tossed into the hangar area next to my ship.
"You owe the meter some ISK asshole!" I heard one of the guards yell as their footsteps receded in the distance.
SARD CAID - Proprietor: "THE DEVIL"S CANDY STORE!"
As a final point in this long blog post, I would like to add the following narrative I posted on our forum which detailed my adventures in a special wolf fit recommended by the great bean counter/warrior KAEDA MAXWELL.
It describes an encounter with a couple of gentleman who I believe are still agents of that sweat shop owner SARD CAID.
This dude, who also runs GUNPOINT DIPLOMACY and I am convinced various offshoots of this outfit such as CALAMITOUS INTENT makes it his business to interject chaos into the lives of as many people as he can in his corner of the Universe.
He will collide with justice some day. Real justice, not JUSTC.
On another note,I am sorry to say that I am deeply ashamed of myself.
I am sorry I did not come to the rescue of that pathetic, pitiful, reed thin waif who with tears tracking down his face begged me to take him out of that hell hole where he toils 15 hours a day for 2 ISK.
I could see him in the back areas of the smoke filled SARD MART production facility.
He was coughing his lungs out as held up a scrawled sign with the words HELP ME PLEASE etched in some dark carbon like material.
(There is also a store front there but I do NOT want to provide any needless free publicity)
Shame on you Sard Caid......Shame on you!
THE BLOG POST:
KAEDA - WOLF BRICK
I would like to report my first experience with this ship.
Last night, I slid into the "command capsule" of one of these fits.
As I mentioned yesterday, I had fit 3 or 4 of these up, after recieving inspiration from Dear K's post in the SHIP FITTING thread, and was excited to see the vessel in action.
I undocked, wisely using our insta undock of course as Heild was pretty busy, and made my way to a safe.
I scanned, using the most current protocols (I stay on top of this shit) and noted that several of the calamitous gents were tooling around in rifters.
Also, presumably to be cute because they are smarmy that way, I noted they were periodically switching names on their ships, ostensibly to "CONFUSE" people.
(IS THAT ALL YOU FUCKERS GOT in the way of tactics?)
After a short period of playing cat and mouse with these two cretins, I decided that it was time to up the ante, and made a command decision to "COMMIT to the fight" as the mighty GARMON likes to say.
I quickly determined that they were on the AEDALD gate and made haste to my POUNCE spot to more readily determine the best way to approach the task of taking both these vatos on in BOAT BATTAL. (thank you for coining that phrase my sweet LADY SHANIQUA! BTW where have you gone to my love?).
As I settled into my vantage point I spotted Altaen in his rifter at the gate.
Of course, Brandobas, his partner in crime would be situated on the other side of the gate. I am NOT stupid dammit!
Emboldened by Kaeda's words (I hang on his every phrase when it comes to ship assessment) that this WOLF fit was the mother of all WOLF fits, I took a big drink of whiskey from my R1FTA cup, snuffed out my cigarrette, gulped down a hanful of instant VALIUM tabs (to quell the combat shakes), and in my best PICARD voice, cooly told my first officer to "ENGAGE!"
Like their namesake in nature, my ferocious WOLF, primed for the hunt, loped down to the gate with autocannons bared and and our engine snarling!!
It was on motherfuckers!!!
I know I must have been a fearsome sight to behold as I plunged into the fray!
I am certain ALTAEN was quaking in his generic pirate issue boots as my image loomed larger in his RIFTERs view screen!
I could imagine him screaming in his little high-pitched sissy voice..."LHORENZHO is incoming!!!!!!"
WHO WOULDN"T BE AFRAID?
SIDEBAR:
Do any of you young BDFS or BRRC snotnoses know what it is like to be old? I pray you never find out. Keep your clone updated please!
Let me tell you briefly what happens. YOU BECOME SLOW AS MOLLASSES and YOUR EYESIGHT GOES VERY BAD! And those are the good things!
DId I mention there are also PEEPEE problems? We will save that talk for a later time kids.
BACK ON THE RECORD:
I know that in another thread I mentioned my sad tendency to target GATES in the heat of battle.
(Why don't killboards give credit for damage to gates?)
Altaen held his ground!
"OVERHEAT THE GUNS!", I screamed to my weapons officer Panfilito Cienfuegos.
Our ships auditory sensors picked up the sounds of cackling laughter coming from the rifter, even over the thunderous din of our 150's.
WHAT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY PUNKS?
You RANSOM fucks may have changed your name but you were still the same arrogant pricks!!!
Then, I felt myself go ashenfaced as I realized what had happened.
The look of horror on Panfilito's face confirmed my fears.
We were inflicting punishing damage on the AEDALD gate.
The rest is a blur, but I will try to finish this narrative to the best of my recollection.
The GATEs do not take kindly to being mauled by WOLFs.
Better you should spit in the face of the GODs.
The GATE responded to our brazen attack.
Volleys I estimate to be in the 350 dps range began to rain down on my mighty ship.
ALTAEN calmly locked, webbed, scrambled and commenced to fire.
The AEDALD gate fired again, only this time it was brandobas warping into system.
He wanted a piece of the WOLF pelt!
I watched sadly as my wolf stopped snarling and began to whimper, its tail tucked tightly between its legs!
It made a howl like groaning sound as it disintegrated and I watched in horror as my compadre Panilito's body was sucked out into space.
It is true, these things appear to play out in slow motion.
ADIOS MI AMIGO!!!
My pod warped to safety.
NO GF's were exchanged!!
Maybe I was offended by ALTAEN's smug parting comment.
WHOOPS!!!!!
They were embarrassed for me! A truly ignominious defeat!
Kaeda! I did not do your ship proud. But, I will try again!
I am a REBEL!
The Tuskers, a renowned pirate entity in the wondrous universe of NEW EDEN put on a frigate fest for the ages yesterday afternoon (California Pacific time) centered primarily in the Jovainnon and Hevrice system in Verge Vendor.
There was a field of wreckage strewn about in the Jov system that would cause a salvagers heart to leap for joy and that pays ready testament to the truth in my glowing characterization above.
There are many, infinitely more qualified and skilled individuals armed with insider knowledge and facts, that can present a more thorough and complete picture of the happenings.
The details on the lustrous event I will leave to others to chronicle for the readers of this blog post.
No doubt Tusker Titans like Suleiman Shouaa and Dian Lung will undertake that task on their own blogs.
I wait with great anticipation to read their narratives!
http://www.the-tuskers.info/
Being a ghetto dwelling, barrio-spawned hoodrat, all I can do is tell you in the vernacular of the street is that it was a primo party VATOS!
Laughs all around for sure.
I will say no more on the tactical side of the event, or comment on ship fittings, or combat tactics, or speak of the logistics nightmare it must have been to plan such an event. (my admiration for the Devil's Tattoo Joe Struck has grown immensely as he runs a similiar event for the Devil's Tatto alliance)
I have never been shy about expressing my heart felt opinion that the "HUMAN ELEMENT" is ALWAYS the source of the more compelling stories in events such as these, and indeed, in EVE ONLINE as a whole.
Without you, the people of NEW EDEN, and your intriques and back room machinations, these events would be nothing more than a sterile compiled list of KILLMAILS.
Who the fuck cares about that?
I know I don't, at least not beyond taking a cursory glance at such a list.
Tell me about the people involved. They are the source of the real drama and tension.
Thats what I care about and many have intimated to me that they also want to know and read about the people and not the just about cold metallic ships.
And to be sure, I certainly am not referring solely to the exploits of known EVE luminaries and GAME GODS whose very presence often cause many of us to act like paparazzi as exemplified by our zeal to quickly raise our cameras and ready our autograph books.
We all love a celebrity.
No, I am talking about people who toil daily with the struggles of life in this brutal universe.
Those of us without 2 ISK to rub together.
Those who struggle just to keep a T1 frig in modules and their concubine of the day in fresh intra-uterine phrophylaxis.
Those of us who do not and cannot make it look easy and who do not have every excruciating detail of the complex intricate minutiae of this game at their fingertips. (How do you savants do it?)
Those of us who cannot generate graphs or spreadsheets or discuss cogently mathematically based game formulae with any sense of reason or intrinsic skill.
People like me.
All I can ever produce is pseudo-academic polish.
A fine veneer but not genuine.
There are some real geniuses tooling around in our space.
I don't need to mention names.
EVE geniuses know who they are.
A heightened sense of self-awareness is one trait of a genius.
Their EGO is driven by this sense.
But enough generic pontificating.
Back to the TUSKER FRIG FEST.
As I alluded to above, there are PLOTS and there are sub-plots always playing out at these festivals.
I will relay a short narrative that spells out the storyline of three players in the event, one of them who
many will recognize as a GAME GIANT.
I am talking about myself (sadly a mere footnote in this game), a corpmate of mine and newly minted R1FTA director named VINCENT R'LYEH, and the PvP legend MIURA BULL.
While the larger drama unfolded in the systems, a similiar drama writ small, involving the three blokes mentioned above was also playing out.
To be sure, the impact of what happened to Vincent and Lhorenzho was small potatoes to the great BULL, but since he had a passing involvement, I have included that SUPERHERO here as well.
Just remember that he cares as much about us as a picnic goer concerns himself with two ants wrestling over a bread crumb.
THE LHORENZHO-R'LYEH feud: (when midgets collide)
Many of you may have a corpmate that is a thorn in your side.
If you do, then I don't need to elaborate on just how aggravating they can be.
You want to pop their asses.
They seem to live to harrass you and to lower your quality of life becomes their raison d'etre.
That fucking Vinny has taken on that role recently and subsequent to his recent promotion he has quite frankly become insufferable!
To make matters worse, he has read, synthesized, and digested every word of the BRUTOR BULLFIGHTER's recent blog about SMACK TALK.
http://brutorbullfighter.blogspot.com/2012/10/a-clear-and-concise-guide-to-winning.html
Yes, I know, the BULL was toying with his adoring public and most of us, even those dregs of EVE society he disdains got it.
BUT NOT R'Yleh! He took the message to heart and I became his test subject.
SMACK SMACK SMACK is all I have heard for weeks.
We have had a long running feud, me and this Vincent cat.
In all honesty it predated this event.
Years ago we agreed to a best two out of three challenge match hoping that we could leave our differences on the field of battle.
To date that strategy has not worked.
We have been deadlocked at one win apiece for what seems like years.
Upon hearing of this TUSKER event, I realized it presented an opportunity for us to finally settle our business and promptly challenged R'Lyeh to a deciding rubber match.
The objective was this.
The loser was to leave corp and relocate to the farthest reaches of the universe.
Let me tell you, it was no easy feat for me to make it to the frig fest site, despite the motivation of ridding myself of VINNY forever.
I had forgotten about the event and had pretty much resigned myself to missing it.
But, motivated by some unsavory mocking at the hands ofVINCENT, I decided at the last minute to attend.
I jump cloned from Heild to Eugales and then in my only rifter made my way to Hevrice.
I went despite the fact that I had NO ships in the OPERATIONS areas.
I hoped to improvise and on the generosity of corpies and event organizers.
Upon arriving, I IMMEDIATELY sent a challenge out to R'yleh. "WHERE ARE YOU CABRON?"
He ignored me.
He loves his psychological games.
I cooled my heels.
I smoked cigarettes and had some drinks.
I also did some fighting.
I won some. I lost some.
The fantastic FRIG FEST was going on and I could follow the destruction as it developed by watching local, monitoring the event channel, and by logging on to the TUSKER mumble channel. (no easy feat)
Clearly, NEW EDEN lore and battles worthy of eternal glory were being created on the larger stage.
But off broadway, another battle was about to begin.
The human story involving the bit players.
My communicator beeped.
R'lyeh was now ready to engage!
Finally.
We agreed to a combat site in system.
He tried to fleet me.
I LOL'd at that pathetic attempt to get range on me. I refused the fleet invite and he protested.
He was in an atron.
I was in my trusty cookie cutter Rifter.(the greatest tool since the swiss army knife)
I must say, I reminded myself of the greatest, the one and only MUHAMMID ALI, as I danced like an IRON BUTTERFLY and stung his ass like a 425 pound bumblebee. (Gastric bypass pending!)
I wanted to punish him and truth be told, I carried him like Ali did to Ernie Terrel!
"WHAT'S MY NAME VINCENT?"......"WHAT's MY NAME?" I yelled (much like my Idol Ali did those millenia ago) as I my 150's battered his Atron.
"WHAT'S MY NAME!!!!??" rat tat tat mofo!!
The results speak for themselves:
http://eve.battleclinic.com/killboard/killmail.php?id=17787391
I will help you pack your bags vato!!
Needless to say, Vinny, attempted to besmirch,taint, and de-legitimize my victory by stating that the 20 hp (1.2% of total damage) inflicted by that late arriving interloper was the reason he lost!
His ship was disintegrating when that kid took his one shot!
You CANNOT be tried for murder when you put a bullet in a corpse VINCENT!!!!
One tiny drama saw the curtain drop.
On to the next!
A tempest in a teapot? Perhaps.
The "ROB ROY":
Now to the BULL.
Genteel decorum will not permit me to air our corporate dirty laundry as I have often stated in the past.
This whole JUSTICE LEAGUE episode that has seen Da BULL abandon his R1FTA progeny and that has created immeasureable angst within the membership has been played out in our private corp forums and will not be revisited here.
Let me first state that I am admirer of Miura Bull.
I am also a HATER of MIURA BULL.
The JUSTICE leagues new "BOSS" has in the past popped a good friend of mine for no apparent reason other than pure unalderated wicked malevolence.
My dear friend, one BHANE CELESTO, was summarily popped twice by the tights-wearing self-professed superhero BULL.
Once, while my dear angelic saintly pal BHANE was holding an autograph book in one hand and a pen in the other waiting for a signature. (Yes he too admired the BULL)
QUE MALDITO BULL!!
TREACHERY!!!
I swore that I would someday impart some measure of vengeance in his name by performing the EVE equivalent of a castration on New Eden's most famous bull.
CRIA DIA anyone?
Da Bull likes to portray himself as a man of "THE PEOPLE".
I can tell you it ain't true.
He loves the trappings of wealth, power, prestige, and upper crust, who's who society.
He loves satin robes, mulberry silk sheets, Stuart Weitzman shoes, crystal encrusted royal danish cigars (bootlegged), and Camus cognac cuvee.
He relishes the thought of rubbing elbows with monied interests and people and clones of influence.
He is not of the people, rather he has become something akin to a celebrated gladiator who has left the lower depths of the coliseums and has been given free reign to walk along the marbled halls of elitism.
It is fleeting BULL.
Remember the wise words of PROXIMO in Gladiator.
"We are all but SHADOWS IN DUST!!
You get the picture?
Once again, while history was being forged on the big stage, the next episode (thank you SNOOP)was playing out in a smaller but more luxurious setting elsewhere.
I caught wind that Da Bull was meeting with some big wig friends at a private soiree in a plush, posh, private dining area in a station in HEVRICE.
I attempted to contact him via the private communicator number he had passed to me earlier.
The number turned out to be invalid and was for the mail order branch of some store called SARD MART!
(Evidently the bull is an "affiliate" and gets bonus points of some sort)
Naturally, I was steaming at this insult and decided to crash the Bull's private affair.
I made my way to HEVRICE, docked my pristine RIfter (not a mark on it after the fight with R'lyeh) in a public hangar stall, put some ISK in the meter, and angrily stormed into the main station area.
I grabbed the first hermaphrodite looking busboy I could find, pulled my monogrammed stilleto blade, and convinced her/him to tell me the location of the super secret shindig.
He sang like a bird in a gilded cage.
I took the turbo lift down to the designated floor, angrily pressed the open door button and pushed my way into the dimly lit room.
Laughter and tinkling glass sounds permeated the room as I squinted and searched the area for signs of the BULL.
The champagne fountain made a pleasant pastoral brook like sound.
There he was in a corner, seated at a huge round table, puffing on a cigar and whispering into the ear of a diamond wearing woman.
Even from my vantage point I could see he had his hand on the bitches thigh.
In a fury, I made my way to his location, toppling dessert trays along the way.
As I reached the table, I noted the velvet rope and the tuxedo wearing maitre'D type standing guard.
He held up his hand in a HALT gesture as I approached.
I did not nor could I conceal my anger.
"May I help you sir?", he asked in the most haughty uppity voice I had ever heard.
Left unsaid was..."What could YOU possibly want here?"
"I need to talk to MIURA BULL", I said through clenched teeth.
I could barely contain my wrath!
"Was Mr. BULL expecting you? Do you have an appointment?"
"NO, but I am a friend of his and this is important".
"Let me see if he can spare a moment. He is very busy right now."
He gave me another look.
He arched his eyebrows, hesitated, and then turned and made his way to the table.
He whipered in Da BULL's ear.
I could see Miura Bull peering at me and shaking his head no.
The waiter was apparently insistent as BULL then vigorously shook his hand in an insulting NO gesture and turned his back on the waiter and me and returned to his conversation!!
CABRON!!!
YOU BASTARD!!!
I did not wait for the waiter to return.
I literally ran to the table, trampling the waiter in my haste and anger.
"I am calling you out Miura!" My voice was quaking.
The Bull slowly raised his head and looked at me without a hint of recognition.
"It's me dude, Lhorenzho!"
"What do you want man?"
I wanted to reach out and slap his face but only my deepest respect and admiration for DIAN LUNG who was at the other end of the table stayed my impulse.
"You have to answer for Bhane Celesto Miura. No one pops a distant cousin of mine without paying for it"
"I have no quarrel with you Lhorena".
He had a smug grin on his face and he was still feigning that he did not know me.
"The names Lhorenzho. And I want you outside in five minutes!"
He turned his back on me.
I drew my officers side sabre, the one I took from a drunken Gallente captain, and put the tip between his shoulderblades.
He slowly turned back to face me.
"Ok, Lhorena. Have it your way. Since you appear to favor long blades shall we say first cut?"
I nodded.
He then took his open palm, slid it along the length of my blade inflicting a long but superficial cut on his palm, and held it up so that all at the table could see the crimson liquid oozing out.
The ladies at the table gasped.
"Well done!", he said to me.
Cackling laughter broke out!
There were looks of both pity and disgust on the faces of NEW EDEN's finest.
I stood there speechless and watched him as he again turned his back to me.
His hand inched ever higher on his companions thigh.
She blushed.
Her eyes filled with admiration and lust for the great BULL!
Before I could muster up a response, I was siezed by 5 burly security agents wearing JUSTC armbands.
Once out of earshot and eyesight of the high society types, I was taken to a dark anteroom and beaten.
"This one is special delivery from the boss!!" one tall bald fellow said as he plunged his gloved hand into my protuberant gut.
I was then tossed into the hangar area next to my ship.
"You owe the meter some ISK asshole!" I heard one of the guards yell as their footsteps receded in the distance.
SARD CAID - Proprietor: "THE DEVIL"S CANDY STORE!"
As a final point in this long blog post, I would like to add the following narrative I posted on our forum which detailed my adventures in a special wolf fit recommended by the great bean counter/warrior KAEDA MAXWELL.
It describes an encounter with a couple of gentleman who I believe are still agents of that sweat shop owner SARD CAID.
This dude, who also runs GUNPOINT DIPLOMACY and I am convinced various offshoots of this outfit such as CALAMITOUS INTENT makes it his business to interject chaos into the lives of as many people as he can in his corner of the Universe.
He will collide with justice some day. Real justice, not JUSTC.
On another note,I am sorry to say that I am deeply ashamed of myself.
I am sorry I did not come to the rescue of that pathetic, pitiful, reed thin waif who with tears tracking down his face begged me to take him out of that hell hole where he toils 15 hours a day for 2 ISK.
I could see him in the back areas of the smoke filled SARD MART production facility.
He was coughing his lungs out as held up a scrawled sign with the words HELP ME PLEASE etched in some dark carbon like material.
(There is also a store front there but I do NOT want to provide any needless free publicity)
Shame on you Sard Caid......Shame on you!
THE BLOG POST:
KAEDA - WOLF BRICK
I would like to report my first experience with this ship.
Last night, I slid into the "command capsule" of one of these fits.
As I mentioned yesterday, I had fit 3 or 4 of these up, after recieving inspiration from Dear K's post in the SHIP FITTING thread, and was excited to see the vessel in action.
I undocked, wisely using our insta undock of course as Heild was pretty busy, and made my way to a safe.
I scanned, using the most current protocols (I stay on top of this shit) and noted that several of the calamitous gents were tooling around in rifters.
Also, presumably to be cute because they are smarmy that way, I noted they were periodically switching names on their ships, ostensibly to "CONFUSE" people.
(IS THAT ALL YOU FUCKERS GOT in the way of tactics?)
After a short period of playing cat and mouse with these two cretins, I decided that it was time to up the ante, and made a command decision to "COMMIT to the fight" as the mighty GARMON likes to say.
I quickly determined that they were on the AEDALD gate and made haste to my POUNCE spot to more readily determine the best way to approach the task of taking both these vatos on in BOAT BATTAL. (thank you for coining that phrase my sweet LADY SHANIQUA! BTW where have you gone to my love?).
As I settled into my vantage point I spotted Altaen in his rifter at the gate.
Of course, Brandobas, his partner in crime would be situated on the other side of the gate. I am NOT stupid dammit!
Emboldened by Kaeda's words (I hang on his every phrase when it comes to ship assessment) that this WOLF fit was the mother of all WOLF fits, I took a big drink of whiskey from my R1FTA cup, snuffed out my cigarrette, gulped down a hanful of instant VALIUM tabs (to quell the combat shakes), and in my best PICARD voice, cooly told my first officer to "ENGAGE!"
Like their namesake in nature, my ferocious WOLF, primed for the hunt, loped down to the gate with autocannons bared and and our engine snarling!!
It was on motherfuckers!!!
I know I must have been a fearsome sight to behold as I plunged into the fray!
I am certain ALTAEN was quaking in his generic pirate issue boots as my image loomed larger in his RIFTERs view screen!
I could imagine him screaming in his little high-pitched sissy voice..."LHORENZHO is incoming!!!!!!"
WHO WOULDN"T BE AFRAID?
SIDEBAR:
Do any of you young BDFS or BRRC snotnoses know what it is like to be old? I pray you never find out. Keep your clone updated please!
Let me tell you briefly what happens. YOU BECOME SLOW AS MOLLASSES and YOUR EYESIGHT GOES VERY BAD! And those are the good things!
DId I mention there are also PEEPEE problems? We will save that talk for a later time kids.
BACK ON THE RECORD:
I know that in another thread I mentioned my sad tendency to target GATES in the heat of battle.
(Why don't killboards give credit for damage to gates?)
Altaen held his ground!
"OVERHEAT THE GUNS!", I screamed to my weapons officer Panfilito Cienfuegos.
Our ships auditory sensors picked up the sounds of cackling laughter coming from the rifter, even over the thunderous din of our 150's.
WHAT WAS SO FUCKING FUNNY PUNKS?
You RANSOM fucks may have changed your name but you were still the same arrogant pricks!!!
Then, I felt myself go ashenfaced as I realized what had happened.
The look of horror on Panfilito's face confirmed my fears.
We were inflicting punishing damage on the AEDALD gate.
The rest is a blur, but I will try to finish this narrative to the best of my recollection.
The GATEs do not take kindly to being mauled by WOLFs.
Better you should spit in the face of the GODs.
The GATE responded to our brazen attack.
Volleys I estimate to be in the 350 dps range began to rain down on my mighty ship.
ALTAEN calmly locked, webbed, scrambled and commenced to fire.
The AEDALD gate fired again, only this time it was brandobas warping into system.
He wanted a piece of the WOLF pelt!
I watched sadly as my wolf stopped snarling and began to whimper, its tail tucked tightly between its legs!
It made a howl like groaning sound as it disintegrated and I watched in horror as my compadre Panilito's body was sucked out into space.
It is true, these things appear to play out in slow motion.
ADIOS MI AMIGO!!!
My pod warped to safety.
NO GF's were exchanged!!
Maybe I was offended by ALTAEN's smug parting comment.
WHOOPS!!!!!
They were embarrassed for me! A truly ignominious defeat!
Kaeda! I did not do your ship proud. But, I will try again!
I am a REBEL!
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