How I screw up Zog's sadistic fighting style vol 1
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- OSPREY
How I screw up Zog's sadistic fighting style vol 1
Why and How I screw up Zog’s Groove, a parody.
Zog, this past weekend mentioned to me that playing with me is like “ Gasoline and Flame”. Zog is of course one of the most respected and admired player on OC-48. Not because he is an admin mind you.no no. Its because His fighting style is so huge in nature and so quick in its ferociousness that one person is enough to screw it up. Yes you read me correctly. In most honest respects, the other 30-team members are in effect moving chicanes. Just being in the mere presence of his attack in the war room is enough to throw off his mass carnage on an unsuspecting lot of camp happy Nazi Muffins. I guess the story go ways back, it always seemed I was just in the way. Like for instance:
It was a cold raining day in Northern France 1944, we were on a Troop transport heading for our designated entry point “ Dog 1”. The seas have been rough all morning and the craft was really taking a pounding. We were 2 miles off the beach and Zog in his usual calm demeanor yelled that he had a fix with his sniper rifle on German Placement Gunner and that he was taking the shot. Bewildered at how such a task could be accomplished 2 miles out in heavy fog was beyond me. But for some reason, seasickness got a hold of me and I forcefully vomited on his scope and uniform. Zog was slightly pissed and writing that letter to Ms Ryan of Iowa informing her that her son died honorably in the field of battle, when In actuality due to my forceful vomiting Zog fired and hit Private Ryan in the cerebral vortex or something like that.
Then there was that time in Korea, it was blistering cold. I had never seen so much snow! . The company was nearly decimated except for Zog, Me and a funny kid from the Bronx (What a Ginny this guy was) Vecchico was his name I think. Anyways as North Koreans were making their way right past our position, Zog, Vecchino and I were crept down in a foxhole hiding as they went by. Zog in his ever brazen self decided he had one more shot left in the Bazooka and that at least 1 more tank would have to suffer to his hands for the loss of his brothers. He was getting ready to set his shot ….you know like I said before. It was really darn cold. I mean bone cold, so while Zog was getting the shot ready I decided to light up an oil rag to get some warmth. Harmless really except I kicked over the jerry can in the foxhole. Jesus I don’t know how it happened, it looked like someone pulled the pin off a napalm container. Well Zog didn’t exactly make his shot. It kind of went upwards and hit a Bell helicopter that was going to get us outta there. Yea he was pissed then too. Writing that letter to Vecchino mom telling her her son died gloriously on the field of battle was tough. Even though it was because he was hit with the exhaust from Zog missed bazooka shot and burned 90% of his body because of just one jerry can full of fuel.
I remember in Vietnam on hill 264, "Heartbreak Ridge”, we were pinned down by a bunch of gooks and Zog just couldn’t stand it anymore. The company was 1/2 its strength 2 days into the fighting. The barrage from machine gun nests got us pinned down like girls on there prom night. Zog who decided enough was enough was going to flank the Vietcong on the other side of that dreadful hill. He took our only engineer left Peters from Sheboygan and tackled the huge minefield that protected those yellow bastards flank. I could believe the courage Zog showed while his engineer wept like an infant. They got halfway through that field of consequences on their bellies before I realized Zog forgot his brain bucket (Helmet to all you conscientious objectors) .I admit it, my mind slipped for a second. It happens to everybody right. I was known to be a great pitcher in HS and I thought I could easily chuck that certified US Army Brain bucket to his position and man did I lob that puppy. They say when death comes it comes quietly. I beg to differ. Apparently Peters was a soccer star and not baseball or football. After the smoke cleared poor Zog was in the fetal position and I could make out only cursing. Probably to those yellow communist bastards. It took a while but we got him outta there. There was no letter to Ms Peters; I let the US Gov do that for me.
I guess its just like I said, I’m always in the way. There were more times like in Grenada, and I could go on about the Gulf War. But for now work calls. Later.
Zog, this past weekend mentioned to me that playing with me is like “ Gasoline and Flame”. Zog is of course one of the most respected and admired player on OC-48. Not because he is an admin mind you.no no. Its because His fighting style is so huge in nature and so quick in its ferociousness that one person is enough to screw it up. Yes you read me correctly. In most honest respects, the other 30-team members are in effect moving chicanes. Just being in the mere presence of his attack in the war room is enough to throw off his mass carnage on an unsuspecting lot of camp happy Nazi Muffins. I guess the story go ways back, it always seemed I was just in the way. Like for instance:
It was a cold raining day in Northern France 1944, we were on a Troop transport heading for our designated entry point “ Dog 1”. The seas have been rough all morning and the craft was really taking a pounding. We were 2 miles off the beach and Zog in his usual calm demeanor yelled that he had a fix with his sniper rifle on German Placement Gunner and that he was taking the shot. Bewildered at how such a task could be accomplished 2 miles out in heavy fog was beyond me. But for some reason, seasickness got a hold of me and I forcefully vomited on his scope and uniform. Zog was slightly pissed and writing that letter to Ms Ryan of Iowa informing her that her son died honorably in the field of battle, when In actuality due to my forceful vomiting Zog fired and hit Private Ryan in the cerebral vortex or something like that.
Then there was that time in Korea, it was blistering cold. I had never seen so much snow! . The company was nearly decimated except for Zog, Me and a funny kid from the Bronx (What a Ginny this guy was) Vecchico was his name I think. Anyways as North Koreans were making their way right past our position, Zog, Vecchino and I were crept down in a foxhole hiding as they went by. Zog in his ever brazen self decided he had one more shot left in the Bazooka and that at least 1 more tank would have to suffer to his hands for the loss of his brothers. He was getting ready to set his shot ….you know like I said before. It was really darn cold. I mean bone cold, so while Zog was getting the shot ready I decided to light up an oil rag to get some warmth. Harmless really except I kicked over the jerry can in the foxhole. Jesus I don’t know how it happened, it looked like someone pulled the pin off a napalm container. Well Zog didn’t exactly make his shot. It kind of went upwards and hit a Bell helicopter that was going to get us outta there. Yea he was pissed then too. Writing that letter to Vecchino mom telling her her son died gloriously on the field of battle was tough. Even though it was because he was hit with the exhaust from Zog missed bazooka shot and burned 90% of his body because of just one jerry can full of fuel.
I remember in Vietnam on hill 264, "Heartbreak Ridge”, we were pinned down by a bunch of gooks and Zog just couldn’t stand it anymore. The company was 1/2 its strength 2 days into the fighting. The barrage from machine gun nests got us pinned down like girls on there prom night. Zog who decided enough was enough was going to flank the Vietcong on the other side of that dreadful hill. He took our only engineer left Peters from Sheboygan and tackled the huge minefield that protected those yellow bastards flank. I could believe the courage Zog showed while his engineer wept like an infant. They got halfway through that field of consequences on their bellies before I realized Zog forgot his brain bucket (Helmet to all you conscientious objectors) .I admit it, my mind slipped for a second. It happens to everybody right. I was known to be a great pitcher in HS and I thought I could easily chuck that certified US Army Brain bucket to his position and man did I lob that puppy. They say when death comes it comes quietly. I beg to differ. Apparently Peters was a soccer star and not baseball or football. After the smoke cleared poor Zog was in the fetal position and I could make out only cursing. Probably to those yellow communist bastards. It took a while but we got him outta there. There was no letter to Ms Peters; I let the US Gov do that for me.
I guess its just like I said, I’m always in the way. There were more times like in Grenada, and I could go on about the Gulf War. But for now work calls. Later.
- Starlight
- #1HiTPoInT
- OSPREY
[quote]Originally posted by Starlight
Lol osprey uh...pretty bird. Do you go bird watching? and are you trying to get into the ss? lol
[/QUOTE
I'm never a medic so its just not in the cards. I hate medics they bring back everything I destroy. I like bieng an impartial player . I have no ties , no grudges only friends. Besides I have way too much on my plate to be a help to any clan out there right now. Zog just cracked me up this weekend with the comment and I was bored at work , bieng a Net Admin has alot of boredom attached to it. I like to write and topics are easily found on this server
.
As for the bird to my left. I love the outdoors , but I hate animals . I couldnt even tell you where this bloody parakeet migrates to . All I know is , I saw it on the discovery channel one night and it fucked up a sea snake . From then on it was Osprey . Birdwatching ?, you got the wrong bloke if Im not killing Im racing Karts , SCCA club sport spec , lawnmowers whatever I can get my hands on .
Lol osprey uh...pretty bird. Do you go bird watching? and are you trying to get into the ss? lol

I'm never a medic so its just not in the cards. I hate medics they bring back everything I destroy. I like bieng an impartial player . I have no ties , no grudges only friends. Besides I have way too much on my plate to be a help to any clan out there right now. Zog just cracked me up this weekend with the comment and I was bored at work , bieng a Net Admin has alot of boredom attached to it. I like to write and topics are easily found on this server

As for the bird to my left. I love the outdoors , but I hate animals . I couldnt even tell you where this bloody parakeet migrates to . All I know is , I saw it on the discovery channel one night and it fucked up a sea snake . From then on it was Osprey . Birdwatching ?, you got the wrong bloke if Im not killing Im racing Karts , SCCA club sport spec , lawnmowers whatever I can get my hands on .

I remember literally bumping into Osprey that weekend...about a hundred effin times!!!
. I like Osprey, he's always been a good guy and seemed like a heady player, but Cripes Almighty, we couldn't get out of each other's hair all weekend!! It was all we could do to get out of each other's way;
In the ducts I'd toss a nade, only to have it bounce off his ass right back into my face.
In the trenches he'd be turning left when I was going straight and we'd end up dancing down the trenches, arms and legs entagled until an air strike obliterated us.
In the war room, between my tippy-toeing around the war-room camping Nazi scum I smashed heads with him repeatedly....lobbed nades at the enemy only to have it deflect of his head back at me...lit myself on fire, tripped on the railing, missed the docs only to catch a face full of eagerly awaiting pazner-noob.
It was so frikin frustrating it was hilarious. I normally would have bitch-slapped any other mortal, but since it was him I couldn't really bring myself to abusing (verbally or digitally) someone who I've had a decent amount of respect for.
The guy can down-right play...but PLEASE DEAR GOD STAY OFF MY TEAM!!!


In the ducts I'd toss a nade, only to have it bounce off his ass right back into my face.
In the trenches he'd be turning left when I was going straight and we'd end up dancing down the trenches, arms and legs entagled until an air strike obliterated us.
In the war room, between my tippy-toeing around the war-room camping Nazi scum I smashed heads with him repeatedly....lobbed nades at the enemy only to have it deflect of his head back at me...lit myself on fire, tripped on the railing, missed the docs only to catch a face full of eagerly awaiting pazner-noob.
It was so frikin frustrating it was hilarious. I normally would have bitch-slapped any other mortal, but since it was him I couldn't really bring myself to abusing (verbally or digitally) someone who I've had a decent amount of respect for.
The guy can down-right play...but PLEASE DEAR GOD STAY OFF MY TEAM!!!


Lord ZOG
"Well hello Mister Fancypants. Well, I've got news for you pal, you ain't leadin' but two things: Jack and shit... and Jack just left town."
"Well hello Mister Fancypants. Well, I've got news for you pal, you ain't leadin' but two things: Jack and shit... and Jack just left town."
- OSPREY
Originally posted by S.S. Lord ZOG
I remember literally bumping into Osprey that weekend...about a [b]hundred effin times!!!. I like Osprey, he's always been a good guy and seemed like a heady player, but Cripes Almighty, we couldn't get out of each other's hair all weekend!! It was all we could do to get out of each other's way;
In the ducts I'd toss a nade, only to have it bounce off his ass right back into my face.
In the trenches he'd be turning left when I was going straight and we'd end up dancing down the trenches, arms and legs entagled until an air strike obliterated us.
In the war room, between my tippy-toeing around the war-room camping Nazi scum I smashed heads with him repeatedly....lobbed nades at the enemy only to have it deflect of his head back at me...lit myself on fire, tripped on the railing, missed the docs only to catch a face full of eagerly awaiting pazner-noob.
It was so frikin frustrating it was hilarious. I normally would have bitch-slapped any other mortal, but since it was him I couldn't really bring myself to abusing (verbally or digitally) someone who I've had a decent amount of respect for.
The guy can down-right play...but PLEASE DEAR GOD STAY OFF MY TEAM!!![/B]
What can I say , .....actually I dont know what to say


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