Warrior General Games

From the desk of Serahei Martynov:
PR Representative for the Belorussian Ministry of Sports and Tourism.

"The pastries of Morgantown, this third time we proposed to our opponents pardon from our army of the mentally deranged of lunatics, fat people in the ballet bundles, Asiatics and sheep with rocket gun connected to the side. Twice it ignored before our of graciousness. If you please learn from the errors of the past. Forfeit this game and we will not burn the rocket projectiles of sheep into your condo and wagon of station. Carry out that you it cannot beat us and the we're going to open your mother's grandmother in the side. I eat any question. It's as flows or phases of the moon or be the cinema Will of Farrell, we're the effort of nature. We trained strongly by way to raise the stacks of the books of telephone and on the house of renown baker, Anastasija Maria Polina, the upper creator of pastry in everything of Belarus.

http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/224/3380/1600/IMG_3206.jpg

She speaks that secret to add the cup of mixing cement in batter actually in order to make it knob to the ribs. But I digress. Command did not make anything and it ate pastries. Pastries, pastry, pastry. And possibly the cup of rusty nails for that in order to avoid scurvy.

We are ready.

As Dzyarzhynsk mountain, we will stand tall and proud surplus your crumbly corpse and after this we will go to the local bar and we will have some of mojitos and cold ranch Of doritos.

Our baker who art in the kitchen
buttery be thy name
Thy buzzer come
thou biscuits done
at home as they are in morgantown
give us this day our daily biscuit
and forgive us our buttery spills
as we forgive those that over butter us
lead us not into the trash can
but deliver us from Belarus
for thine is the butter and the power and the glory forever

amen

Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death machines I shall fear no belarusians for biscuits are with me. thy flakes and thy butter, they comfort me

For Morgantown so hated belarus, he gave his only begotten jelly packet that whosoever tried to eat him would perish and have eternally buttery fingers

Let me put it like this...

Belarus is an awful country. I bet you smell. You are not privileged to taste our yeast.

And this Anastasija Maria Polina chick surely fails to possess baking skills comparable to ours.

Tomorrow morning, when sun and moon reach alignment mimicking a leper's eyes, when nebulae form and sparkle like the Legend of Zelda rouble your currency is, when first-born children exit their mother's love canal (the front one), you will smell.

These biscuits shall define perfection. Aroma will travel into the stratosphere, clouds of gold will form from our steam. The ladies throughout the Earth will moisten faster than Niagara Falls. Your testosterone ceases to produce. The Death Machine loses its vigor, its pride; they become child-like. And now, when that moment comes in under 11 hours, you will understand.

So listen, Mr. Minister. There will be none of your cute chat after our victory. We have spread our butter on your orifices before. We will do so again.

At the funeral for your motley crew, there will be a song. It is a glorious hymn, much like the prayer posted above. You do realize, that when they say a woman's "got one in the oven," it is rooted back 2008 years ago, to a tiny manger outside Jerusalem. Here, an angel came to a young girl named Mary. When she was told a gift from God was coming, she thought she was going to produce the greatest batch of biscuits from her womb. Thus, she told everyone she had "the biscuits in my womanly oven." The wisemen brought rich butter, luscious jelly and the finest gravy.

This is the song that Mary serenaded her holy providers with:

O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the biscuits Thy Oven hath bake;
I see them fluff, I smell the rising yeast and wonder,
Thy power throughout the bakeries displayed.

Then sings my belly, My Baker God, to Thee,
How crisp Thou art, How buttered Thou art.
Then sings my tongue, My Baker God, to Thee,
How soft Thou art, How gold Thou art!

When through the kitchen, and deli's I wander,
And hear the oven sing sweetly "RIIIIIIIIING".
When I look down, to see tasty biscuit grandeur
And taste the bread, and feel the gentle stuffing.

Then sings my belly, My Baker God, to Thee,
How crisp Thou art, How buttered Thou art.
Then sings my tongue, My Baker God, to Thee,
How soft Thou art, How gold Thou art!

And when I think, that God, His Biscuits not sparing;
Sent Them to Me, I scarce can take it in;
That in this womb, my delicacies gladly fluffing,
They rise and feed to take away our sin.

Then sings my belly, My Baker God, to Thee,
How crisp Thou art, How buttered Thou art.
Then sings my tongue, My Baker God, to Thee,
How soft Thou art, How gold Thou art!

When Biscuits shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And place them out, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: "My Baker God, how great Thou art!"

Then sings my belly, My Baker God, to Thee,
How crisp Thou art, How buttered Thou art.
Then sings my tongue, My Baker God, to Thee,
How soft Thou art, How gold Thou art!

I'm really a big fan of biscuits myself. Quite particular to the English muffin though, those nooks they hold anything you could ever want to put on your muffin. Ketchup, mayo, jelly, pepper or anything. Hell, I would even guess they could hold some escape from prison paraphernalia, like a crowbar or a blowtorch?

http://ihasahotdog.files.wordpress.com/2008/08/funny-dog-pictures-the-escape-plan-did-not-work.jpg Only if they had some English muffins loaded with crowbars, they would be free.

there we go! the morgantown posts we've all been missing!

thats more like it.

When are you printing the Biscuit Bible and when you do.....will it be edible?

From the desk of Serahei Martynov:
PR Representative for the Belorussian Ministry of Sports and Tourism.

"Son of a.."

Originally posted by Scyllz
From the desk of Serahei Martynov:
PR Representative for the Belorussian Ministry of Sports and Tourism.

"Son of a.."




that actually made me lol

gg and good season scyllz

Next game should be fun to watch

Originally posted by Scyllz
Next game should be fun to watch

with those one guys, playing against the other dudes?

Survey says....






"sigh.... GG Biscuits."




Damn your LOT waking up for one series....