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Each Move Must Consist Of Precisely Eight Words
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Just as it says on the tin. What happens in the game may be debated in the game: perhaps it'll be a conversation, perhaps a word-limited reprise of various games we play, or whatever.
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(Chalks) I thought you knew everything about everybody.
[Rosie] Are our details all filed away somewhere?
(Tuj) "Filed" is not quite the correct term.
"Severely chafed" would be a more accurate term.
This is all getting rather abrasive, isn't it?
When the going's rough, the rough get going.
Roughage get you going, that is for sure.
Especially Italians, for Milan is on the Po.
[Rosie] Too devastatingly amusing to follow, I fear.
To fear amusement is to devastate Rosie's followers
We have nothing to fear but Rosie himself
[Phil] What then does Rosie have to fear?
Failure to make fearful those who fear him?
That's too oxymoronic for this time of night.
Isn't it pleonastic? Or self referential? Arrrrgh... brain....
[pen] It looks more like pyrex to me...
Now I think of "Pyrex of the Caribbean".
The earth moved for me, alone, last night.
(pen) So when will you actually be buried?
Not for a long time yet, I hope.
But did you notice the earthquake at all?
Not for me. I was away in Brussels.
I slept right through it. I was tired.
I slept through You and Yours. Tiredness irrelevant.
We've all slept for the last three days.
We are sleeping the sleep of the just.
Sleep of the just what? Just plain lazy?
Just downed ten pints more like for Rosie. ;o)
Alas, those days are well in the past.
Alas for those days passed in a well
Not the only thing passed in the well.
This has been a really lazy Sunday. Nice.
I had a lazy week. Work tomorrow =(
I shall have a lazy week; work tomorrow.
Chick pea Moroccanese with prunes and bacon tonight.
Warning to keep clear of the ladies tomorrow?
How come beer doesn't get the same warning?
I detect a certain deceleration in this game.
The deceleration is proportional to the retarding force.
There are certainly some major retarding forces about.
Effort should go into moving forward, not back.
Right then, let's everyone get out and push.
One, two, three, push! One, two, three, push!
It would be helpful to release the handbrake.
OK, who's got the handbrake? Let it go!
I think there's something wrong with the clutch.
Never mind the clutch; put it in neutral.
(looks underneath) wouldn't some more wheels be helpful?
There's enough of us, just lift it up.
Where's the Anthill Mob when you need them?
That's no way to talk about the Chinese.
"Huh heh huh hulk hulk. Penelope's gonna die..."
(well you try rendering cartoon chuckling in text...)
That's not a very nice thing to say.
[pen] - how can one be rude nicely, then?
Just taype it heah in a naice eccent
Why do you need to say it anyway?
The Grim Reaper always has the last word.
No he does not. Not by any standard.
That was just my favourite Anthill Mob line...
It's no good quoting movies at me. Heh-heh-huh-hulk-hulk.
I've only just noticed your new Dutch name.
I know I shouldn't, but that brought sniggers.
[Tuj] Sniggers will always be Maragon to me.
Wasn't Sniggers the one that famously "Played Pop"?
[ISP] Doesn't Sniggers contain chocolate, peanuts and caramel?
Stobbit. You're making me hungry. What's for dinner?
I'm sure Alf Stobbit played for Middlesbrough once.
Actually, I believe a Stobbit saved Middle Earth.
I need to mention Eddie Stobbit, but how?
Doesn't he name all his lorries after laddies?
Are you in the right game, old bean?
Old bean: astonishingly unsuccessful precursor to Old Spice.
Old spice: rejected geriatric member of girl group.
It's about time I said another eight words.
These aren't the words I was thinking about.
Shurely "These aren't the words you're looking for"?
But you cannot possibly know Kim's innermost thoughts.
Your Mum cannot possibly know Kim's innermost thoughts!!!!!!!!
Stage Managers do not make tea. Ever. EVER.
Your Mum doesn't make tea ever!!!!!!!! Annoying already.
I have two words for Tuj: "Your Mum!!!!!!!!"
[Quenders] When can I have the other six?
[Tuj] Where's the "-ers" diminutive from, regionally speaking?
(Quenders) It's not regional but rather upper class.
[Rosie] Ha! It's just from Test Match Special.
(Tuj) I suspect it has publich school origins.
I suspect I've Germanised a certain word there.
My mum used Germanised on my grazed knees.
Grazes, burns, spots and pimples, who needs 'em?
Dorothy: Grazes and pimples and burns! Oh my!
Rhett: Grazes? Pimples? I don't give a damn!
(pen) Frankly ma'am, your insouciance utterly astounds me.
Are you people still stuck in your eight-words-in-a-move rut?
[CdM] Nobody has really noticed I don't think.
[CdM] I don't do it deliberately any more.
Quite accidentally, this consists of eight words precisely.
I don't believe that it was an accident.
In fact, I suspect you of treachery. J'accuse!
My surname is Hughes but I'm not Jack.
And I can say it's not Yosser either.
It wouldn't be, bcause I can't even yoss.
Don't worry: the Barber of Seville couldn't barb.
And Field Marshal Montgomery didn't rearrange the countryside.
And General De Gaulle was much more specific.
And do spin doctors really repair industrial centriguges?
No, they just correct other people's typos, Rosie
(pen) So why didn't they correct mine? Bastards!
Then would that mean witches have spell checkers?
Are programmers in favour of metric weighing systems?
Journalists should be carved up with a hacksaw.
Weather watchers should be tested for their mettle.
Weather watchers should test their seaweed every day.
She sells sea shells on the sea shore.
Shut up the shutters and sit in the ...
Red lorry, yellow lorry, red lorry, yellow lorry.
Peter Piper picked a peck of pepper corns.
However, the sixth sick sheikh's sixth sheep's sick.
Not guilty then. The Leith police dismisseth us.
But please note, I'm not the pheasant plucker.
Tuj, are you the pheasant plucker's son then?
And will you always pluck the pheasants 'til .... ?
The pheasant plucker comes. No, the job's crap.
Has anyone noticed? The weather has improved, slightly.
It improved, yes, but then deteriorated a bit
Just as I read that, the sun appeared.
...... and then went in again. Tomorrow be warm.
Saturday: warm; Sunday: warm with showers; Conclusion? April.
I got a slight sunburn on Saturday, cycling.
I also caught the sun on my nose.
That is some hooter you must have, mate.
[Rosie] tee hee hee heee heeee chuckle chuckle
You should know, Rosie, you have met it.
Hooter? I thought that it was Humph's walrus?
The Softwarian schnozzle is normal, more or less.
I had cheezbrgr for lunch. It was yours.
(pen) That's impossible. I had already eaten it.
[rosie] i am inzide you, eatn ur fud.
(pen) You realise that makes you a tapeworm?
Loltapeworms? Now there's food for thought. Or not.
"im in ur bwls, pokn my head out"
*is not really appreciating the fake textual terminology*
[Chalky] I concur with your sentiments entirely, m8.
Ah well. Who's up for a Sonnet? Anyone?
Would it not be insanely hard to do?
Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Or something that's a touch less plagiaristic?
(Chalky) Thou mayest. I am dull and sweaty.
The scansion's fine thus far, but whither rhyme?
Scansion is normally more withered than rhyme here.
So, shall we try for a sonnet then?
Is this a task too difficult for us?
Have we changed to eight word questions only?
Let's boldly go where none have gone before
Let's seize the day and take no pri-son-ers
Steady on. This is getting a bit dynamic.
Great struggle makes this battle worth the more.
(That literal boldness was not what I meant.)
We'll fight the fight in full-blown clichéd verse
And sweep the field of sceptics and faint-hearts
For those who dare to sabotage our quest
Onward, Morniversal soldiers, marching as to hostility scenarios.
We shall reserve the keenest of our darts.
Our foes shall quake at our felicitous constructions.
With poisoned tip to quell such vile unrest
So wage we our campaign for well-spun lines
Our weapons primed with language, form and wit
The straitness of our measure shows the signs
That we are really like up for it
(That scansion's foul; let all avert their eyes!)
Resolved we weave a fitting end to it
(If I count right, the final couplet's here:)
If I count right, the final couplet's here:
(In afterthought, my thought seemed well to fit.)

Let's boldly go where none have gone before
Let's seize the day and take no pri-son-ers
Great struggle makes this battle worth the more
We'll fight the fight in full-blown clichéd verse

And sweep the field of sceptics and faint-hearts
For those who dare to sabotage our quest
We shall reserve the keenest of our darts
With poisoned tip to quell such vile unrest

So wage we our campaign for well-spun lines
Our weapons primed with language, form and wit
The straitness of our measure shows the signs
Resolved we weave a fitting end to it

If I count right, the final couplet's here
To doubters - we have writ what we hold dear

Thank you, Raak, for believing - that was fun :-)
OK - fancy poetry's done - time for a chat?
[Chalky] Thank you for the dance, fun indeed!
But that last line, it has nine words!
(The last line of the sonnet, that is.)
[Quendalon] God is perfect, but we are not.
On the other hand, "we've enscribed" would fit.
[Raak] Perfect. I rushed and spoiled it. Sorry :-(
Can you do a haiku, then? Three separate lines, mind: no cheating.

Syncopating this
Is indubitably tough
Like making pancakes.
[pen] Not bad! But I meant three lines, each of eight words...
[CdM] I did think about that. How can eight words be squeezed out of five or seven syllables, unless you speak broad Yorkshire? Go on, show me! :oP
I am the tall bloke. That is me. In proper Yorks. accent becomes, I'm t'tall bloke, that's me
The poetry is great, please stick to eight!
Well, at least I broke the octofascistic hold for a couple of moves there. There is hope for you all yet.
Four feet per line makes all words short.
All work no play makes Raak dull boy?
Oh no, not another very difficult poetry game.
(CdM) You have repeatedly trampled octofascism to death. :-)
[nights] Do I detect a weary situational acceptance?
Hard thought is good play for the mind.
Doesn't anyone have eight pithy words for Friday?
We get the day off, in three days.
Let's skive off now for this week end.
The Bank Holiday will be a total washout. Like colonic irrigation.
We have no bank holiday here in France.
The sum shone all day here, no rain.
Some nice weather in Holland, where I stayed.
Day off? My next is seven weeks away.
Sun and Mon had much rain and wind.
Phil, you work from home - it's a pub
I spent the weekend in wet west Wales.
I bet it was warmer than wet northeast Surrey.
Well, it just reached 12C on Monday afternoon.
penelope, I know. Still no days off though.
Goodness it's warm here. 29 degrees today.
There may be 29, but the third's worst.
The second's quite bad enough for a burn. My burn, nearly a year ago, has healed completely.
Quite so, Rosie. Meanwhile, it's Monday, and now...?
[pen] ...for something completely different? I like maps.
(Tuj) It's good to meet a fellow cartophile.
Yeah - the map thing - even when I was young I always needed to know where I was. Sorry - have I broken the 8-word thingy?
Maps rock! Satnav is so crap it hurts.
(Chalky) Not at all, m'dear. Pretend you're CdM. Ooh, get 'im.
[Chalky] Careful. It ain't easy to pretend to be me.
[CdM] Yes, I find that a problem too.
Rosie's last two comments have been somewhat cediemulant.
Maybe so, but this one is satnavophobically Philoconfirmatory. (Tuj) V good, BTW.
Try switching it off and on again, Rosie
I did. It's still James Naughtie wittering on.
Should we switch MC5 on and off again?
I really don't understand what's going on here.
And yet, here you are. How very peculiar.
[FGZstar] Strangely, I think that's almost a prerequisite.
Its raining again from where I am standing.
Are you standing on a cloud then, Software?
It could be that he's having a slash.
Rosie's explanation would better stand up to scrutiny.
Eeeeeuuuuwwww. Not something I'd like to scrutinise, really.
[penelope] Especially not when it is standing up
In that state "rainfall" production is largely inhibited.
It is certainly hard to disprove that statement.
Goodness, I leave for five minutes, and look...
The eight word rule restored? Or something else?
Been away for ages but now I'm back.
I told you it was an addiction, mate.
I held off for four days. Cold turkey.
I went on holiday for a week. Returned.
Not the most popular of games, is it?
It has its moments, perhaps this is another.
Damn. I think I blinked and missed it.
I think that should be blunk, like wunk.
An ant and antelope are after an annulment.
Is that because Ant and Bee hooked up?
I thought that Ant hooked up with Dec
Everyone did - "all hands on Dec" they said.
I thought we were in Jun not Dec.
Yes, we are but not for very long. Clearly this is the Department of Great Thoughts.
So, Tim is out, better luck next time.
[Softers] Your Automatic Wimbledon Comment Generator needs updating.
I wonder if the rain will stop soon?
(Softers) There will be real rain today (Wednesday).
Twelve hours of the wretched stuff so far!!
Don't care. Going to Holland tomorrow, my birthday. :o)
It didn't rain Wednesday at all over here. :o)
We did have a brief shower on Thursday.
Cold and wet in Scotland all next week.
Come on, people! Think of new games!
I know! Each move seven words long!
[CdM] Thirteen words it is you want now then? Yoda speak I like then...
Those aren't new games, just a rearranged version.
To a connoisseur, each number is completely different.
Seven is good, six is better.
I've said it before: it's eight for me.
Yes, quite. It's an octal base for me.
Six words good! Seven words baaaaad!
But five is even better.
Four is plenty.
3?
Whither syntax?
Gone.
( )
i2
This is ridiculous. Let's get back to business.
y?
I'm with pen. Not in the biblical sense.
Ah! So we have a writer amongst us.
I haven't contributed for rather a long time.
Have your knees been playing up, old chap?
The quick brown fox jumps ...to be continued...
.....over the fence and exuberantly shags receptive vixen.
We've now moved to nature study I see.
One for sorrow, two for joy, eight for...?
...the hell of it? Makes sense to me...
I've just made mushroom soup. From mushrooms. Yuk.
(pen) More details, please, particularly regarding the yuckiness.
The soup was delicious. I hate whole mushrooms.
Why does turtle soup contain no whole turtles?
It would be too easy to mock them.
And they don't fit on the soup spoon.
Tried terrapin soup? a nipper in a dipper
I prefer alphabet soup. It's educative, quite literally.
What ever happened to traditional Brown Windsor soup?
Soup's off, dear. Want a nice prawn cocktail?
Soup's off? Did the tanker not turn up?
If the soup's off, there is always Spam.
There is very little nourishment in junk emails.
There is very little nourishment in Spam either.
Very little intellectual nourishment in here right now...
Well, I did watch University Challenge last night.
Were you able to answer any questions, though?
I just like hearing the words "Jesus - HUGHES."
This intellect seems to have halted the flow.
To halt the flow you should take Imodium.
Depends. It could be an incontinence pad, perhaps.
Or Luciano Pavarotti. Oops! Wrong kind of Tena.
Oh dear. It has all gone downhill, innit?
It is easier going downhill than uphill.
Quite so. Gravity has much to answer for.
Gravity is such a drag. Let's lighten up!
Pen - I can not imagine you in drag.
My impression of a woman is quite convincing
Oh dear, dear, penelope. Who told you that?
[Phil] Your boyfriend, wearing pink shirt and earrings.
Pen, you must have had years of practice.
Let her tell us precisely how many years.
Are you all still holding your collective breaths?
I'd rather be holding yours, to be honest.
Rosie, you seem to have developed a lisp.
Yeth I have, and I'm only thixty-five. Geddit?
I thought that I said lisp not limp.
References to limpness will be treated with derision.
Dr. Peabody's Best Derision, one shilling a bottle.
At that price I'll take a dozen, please.
Useful when listening to politcians on the media.
This post has exactly the right number of
Come on, come on, I hate the suspense
...words necessary to pass muster in this game.
Is that all? I was expecting a revelation.
You'll find quite a few at the back.
Does anyone here recall Blue Jam? Quite extraordinary.
No, but I've a jar of blackberry jelly.
(nights) Can you play C Jam Blues, though?
If you can whistle it, I'll try to.
Here it is: Woohoo, -, -, woohoo, woohoo, Woooo Hoo.
Hmm. May be beyond my musical capabilities. Sorry.
Switswoo, la-di-da, switswoo, switswoo, switswoo swoooooo bum bum.
I believe penelope is speaking in tongues again.
What do you expect? It's probably Double Dutch.
It was an Edith Piaf song, Padam Padam.
Ah. I see. Well, very nice, pen. Yes.
Gosh, it is October already. How time flies!
And a new week! Eight Monday words, anyone?
"this, queen, eldritch, lemming, towers, quell, mensch, trauma"
That sounds like a rather promising plot outline.
I, am, fed, up, with, my, job. OK?
Isn't imparting knowledge to others is very fulfilling?
Perhaps you could even teach Rosie about syntax.
Oh dear! So much for the Whoops button.
I was having a bad day. Better today!
Better now indeed. It's the weekend. Laundry looms.
Sorry, pen; what the hell are laundry looms?
Pen, I know what you mean. Laundry. Ugh.
I love ironing. Is that a bit freaky?
Not at all, Pen. What iron've you got?
"Iron've" is an unusual word. Iron've iron've iron've.
You can come and do my ironing, pen.
Steel yourself and cast ironing to the winds.
Teflon plate with sports suspension and steam boost.
Cool. Mine's a rear sidewinder with overhead underhangs.
Mine's a pint. Ironing's just a necessary evil.
A pint of steam? Is that all? Wuss.
It's all right for you, you're a girl.
That's the stupidest thing I ever heard, Softers.
[pen] There's something very Mainwaringesque about that line.
Sorry about that. I was in bossy mode.
[pen] So much for your girly side, then.
Words to the wise. Girly side *is* bossy.
That's the most tautological statement I've ever heard.
Do you want me to tell you again?
Oooh! I like it when you're dominant, pen.
I don't think that was what I meant...
Well, if you don't know, we certainly don't!
I knew none of you knew, you know
We'd like to know if you know, though.
Anyone know if I know what's going on?
I'm not sure. How much do you know?
he knows more than he's letting on. maybe.
I really don't know what's going on here.
It's all on a need to know basis.
I don't wish to know that, oh no.
I think Tuj's real name is John Major.
Who are you calling Major in here, Rosie?
[Rosie] That's hard for a twenty-one-year-old to take!
Fair enough, I never fancied Edwina Curry either.
Nor me, but maybe she's a good shag.
Change of subject. My, what a gloomy weekend.
I appear to have lost a vowel somewhere.
I expect you left it on the train.
[Rosie] Less likely if she has a care.
pen is without a care, not a car.
[Rosie] Are you implying that pen doesn't care?
Quite right. I don't. Off to Holland tomorrow. :D
Auf wiedersehen! No, wait... Bon voyage? Hang on...
Pen? Have you come back from Holland yet?
Yup, back, but 'flu. It stole my holiday.
Football, though, steals the brain, which is worse.
Flu abated, hacking cough, but still off work.
I'm always off work but have to attend.
I do not recognise this thing called "work".
Come now, chaps. Are you lost for words?
Buy me a couple of pints, I'll talk.
That wouldn't get you far in Guantanamo Bay.
Eight words. Beef pie, carrots, cauliflower, gravy. Yum.
Rosemary foccacio, terrine de campagne, raw fennel.
I must have been trying to cut down.
I have a hunger for some proper paté.
Bray's farm pork pies are the very best.
Are they Irish pork and dioxin farm pies?
They insist on only the very best dioxins.
One should always insist the dioxins are organic.
Can Flash Gordon really save the financial world?
What makes you think he'd be so inclined?
Flash! (crash) Ah ah... Saviour of the universe.
My final week at work... demob happy, wooohoooo!!!!
Luck in the Land of Wooden Shoes, penelope.
Words for the week between Christmas and NY?
"The December Sales" is their most prominent feature.
"All Month's Now Available At Knock Down Price's."
Free apostrophe every time. Whether 'needed or 'not.
Those free radicle apostrophes seem to get everywhere.
So, how is everyone finding the new year?
I looked down the back of the sofa.
The revelations of that practice can be horrific.
There's a menthol sweetie down the back of mine
Actually, I'm finding the New Year rather chilly.
It's warmed and wetted up a bit now.
Boxes, boxes, boxes, boxes, boxes, boxes, boxes, junk.
Arrived. Semi-unpacked. Jeez, where will it all go?
I reckon penelope needs a new dutch name
"Peneloopij" might provide something like the right pronunciation
Thank you very much. That's just marvellous. Not.
Geen probleem peneloopij, al deel van de dienst.
Intrigued newcomer wonders: is this a clique? Click.
Nah, jump in. Tell us your trivia, Fogey.
(Fogey) Welcome, unless you are older than me.
Does that mean elder's are not welcome, Rosie?
(Softers) Nor larch's, oak's or baobab's either, chum.
Does that mean no cricket Ash's this year?
Hazel yews's birches to remain poplar and spruce?
That reminds me. I've tree writing to do.
Oak aye. (This is my first attempt here.)
I got sunburnt on a beech in cypress.
Rowan a boat on Windermere made me sycamore.
Fir goodness sake, this is getting very silly.
Ivy privet opinion that it's acacia running joke.
No snow talk in here. That's a relief.
The rain will wash away the heagonal crystals.
The nights are beginning to draw in now.
Oi! Not from where I'm standing, they're not.
Are you are removing your winter drawers already?
There must be a spring in her step.
I'll have a word with the Windy Miller.
A Dutch word or an English word, eh?
It doesn't matter. Neither will make much sense.
How about 'wainscot'? English, but with Dutch origins.
Wainscot sounds like a place in say, Oxfordshire.
Goodness me! The sun is actually shining today!
Furthermore, it is visible from the United Kingdom.
(Except for viewers in Scotland, who don't count)
Neither do they in BBC TV weather forecasts.
BBC weather forecasts show weather in the Netherlands.
Ah yes, but is it any better, pen?
No, it's usually worse. Probably get more rain.
Sublime rhyme, "weather in the Netherlands". Whither Neverland?
Neverland? Repossessed by the bank, mate. Hard Luck.
Rain and wind... I have to go out :o(
That's bad luck, the sun is shining here.
What? Even for the global tax avoidance mob?
The sun ALWAYS shines for tax avoidance mobs :o)
But they have to stand in dirty business.
Are you all currently saving up your words?
I am naturally laconic, despite the Cambrian influence.
Every word counts in the current challenging climate.
I thought words were cheap. What has changed?
A change is as good as a rest
Has anyone talked about Twitter in this game?
I don't think so. Should we start now?
I don't know. Is anyone tweeting us yet?
Is this game now "Eight Words A Week"?
Wasn't that an early song by the Beatles?
Did we resolve the Twitter issue at all?
[Software] Yes.
I'll Twitter on here. Is anyone actually interested?
By current activity, no-one will even notice, Pen.
Maybe St George will, its his day today.
On St. George's Day, I went to France.
On St Patrick's Day, America goes to pieces.
On St David's day the Welsh take a leek.
I made lemon cookies this morning. Utterly delish.
I couldn't resist a tasty inverted equilateral triangle.
Did you have custard on it, Rosie?
I was indulging in smart-arse mathematical symbolism.
I See. In France they have Triangle Amande.
Are these the last eight words here ever?
Is the Pope a bear in the woods?
What's more, does His Holiness approve of picnics?
Once upon a time there was this guy.
He became station announcer at Bristol Temple Meads.
He announced the Second Coming, but no-one listened.
A man walks into a pub, now laugh.
He should have looked where he was going.
[Rosie] Now, and just now, did I laugh.
It seems possible to cause mirth on Tuesdays.
Shall we try again tomorrow? It'll be Wednesday.
Does "it'll" count as one word or two?
It it does we both used nine. Whoooops!
Where's the Southeast England Severe Weather Event, then?
I woke up to rain, was that it?
[nfras] I think contractions've always counted as one...
....thing pregnant women would rather not think about.
Ah, yes, but prevention is better than cure.
Ten days is too long without eight words.
That's true. Where have you been then, pen?
Eindhoven, the Neunen watermills that Van Gogh painted.
Shall we continue our discrete dalliance here, pen?
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