I Am A Senior Patron . . .

To All:

It's been about a week since I last entered the sacred halls of this illustrious forum. And a well spent week it's been. Let's see, I watched a couple of movies (including Memonto -- catch this if you haven't seen it), read a book or three, and played about sixty hours of MTW.

What's that you say?

Oh yes, I did accomplish a lot while managing to avoid anything remotely resembling an actual life.

But my, aren't my parents proud! That law degree they paid for is really going to good use!

(Those of you that may have stumbled across my other posts, please rest assured. The 7-Eleven is still safe -- for now.)

Upon my return, I was, well, surprised to see I'd been promoted to Senior Patron.

I must admit, my life history is pretty devoid of any kind of promotions. My last promotion . . . well, it seems it involved the crossing guards and only lasted until an unpleasent incident with the girl next door and a pair of reflective belts (which the school had issued to prevent us crossing guards from getting run over by oblivious drivers -- I mean, if you're not paying enough attention to see the kid, are you really going to see the bright yellow belt?). Anyway, her parents were mortified, the principle was disgusted, but what can I say? I was always an imaginative kid.

But I digress.

Since my salad days as a crossing guard captain, promotions have been few and far between. Really. Oh, I managed to accumulate some academic awards and an impressive looking law degree, all of which now gather dust on the wall behind me but do light up nicely in the electronic glow of my laptop computer screen. But promotions?

At this stage of my life, I've got a better chance of getting some kind of virus -- computer or otherwise.

Well, since I've been graciously endowed with this honor, I feel a small speech is in order. Feel free to leave now. Your wife's uncle's slideshow will probably be more intellectually stimulating.

First, I'd like to thank KukriKhan for promoting me to Senior Patron. His confidence in my leadership abilities are well placed and, of course, I will always strive not to disappoint. I think the fact that my promotion came without a formal request on my part either speaks to my obvious leadership talents or reiterates the fact I spend most of my free time in the stratosphere.

Next, I suppose a thank you to my parents is in order. After all, they spent enough money to fund the takeover a third world country just to get me to this point. You should see the tears of pride they cry when I tell them I finally managed to elimate the Byzantine Empire from the MTW playing field. On the Easy setting. Playing the Egyptians.

It's touching, it really is.

Of course, I'd like to thank all of you for your kindness and support. Oh, and for taking the time away from your busy daily schedules (assuming unlike me you have both a life and a busy daily schedule) just to read my small offerings.

Finally, I'd like to thank all of the little people in my life. No, I don't mean the leprechauns, the dwarfs, the gnomes, or the trolls -- you can just return right now to your homes beneath my bed (and no more unannounced entrances on date night -- I'm not sure our last guest will ever be the same). No, I'm referring to all of you have been kind enough to contribute financially to insure my continued survival. Yes, I'm talking to both of you. Thanks.

Okay, so I was wondering: Is there a handbook I should read? The Complete Guide to Being a Senior Patron or something along that order? You know, a small pamplet outlining my significant duties and responsibilities. A moving speech from some handsome but distant leader, encouraging me to work hard and fulfill my destiny? A secret code and handshake?

Oh -- and is there a uniform? Hopefully something with straps? After all, there is now another girl next door and next Thursday is date night!

The Shadow One

:duel:

*claps hands, cheers wildly*

Bravo, bravo, well done.

On a side note, what on earth does it signify to be a patron, much less a senior patron? I haven't seen a clear post on what all of these skull-and-bones Masonic titles mean.

[edit] I just checked the thread that deals with titles. Never mind. [/edit]

I mean, clearly, if you're a senior patron there must be a secret handshake, and you probably have to bathe in sacrificial goats' blood. I picture something like this:

http://kjbbn.net/A_satanic_ritual_amysalu3...jpg

Is that accurate?

Man I know I should have actually read :book: the list of who was getting promoted instead of just saying yes...

~:cheers: Enjoy the Tavern Backroom...

Lemurmania:

Thank you for your kind words.

That's some picture and I think you may be onto something here -- I'll invite the leprechauns and the trolls. The gnomes have a mind of their own. I can't take them anywhere.

Papewaio: Does this mean I won't get prompoted again? And my parents were so proud!

The Shadow One

:duel:

P.S. Money is the root of all evil. To remain pure, make your parents pay.

The Shadow One, isn't it obvious that you are eminently qualified as a senior patron? Not only do you digress, troll and OT as if there were no tomorrow, you have even managed to draw the attention of the most brutal henchman scouring these boards, i.e. Pape the Terrible. I daresay you'll be a member soon!

Give my best regards to your parents and please advise them that in cases such as yours a parakeet can have surprising therapeutic results.

Of course, I remember my initiation fondly. The candles. The virgin. The black goat of the woods with a thousand young. The psychotropic chew toys in the hut with the wizened shaman. The days strapped naked to a rock in the raging storm. The nosebleeds and blackouts. Waking up in a pool of effluvia. Fortunately, someone took some snaps:

http://www.buca.org/~elmac/images/el...ate_ritual.jpg

Great days, great days. Back then, I thought the Org was all about the Total War games. Such innocence! Innocence lost, of course, on the oily edge of a sacrificial dagger.

Enjoy your stay. You can never really leave. Never, ever, ever.

[QUOTE=AdrianII] "The Shadow One, isn't it obvious that you are eminently qualified as a senior patron? Not only do you digress, troll and OT as if there were no tomorrow . . ."

Well, if that's all it takes, I should be running the show by next week! And I all this time I thought it had something to do with talent . . .

By the way, I do try to avoid being completely off-topic; most of my posts have more that a passing reference to MTW or RTW. Okay, fleeting may be a more appropriate word.

Honestly, I'm always pleased when someone reads my words. Thanks for the note.

The Shadow One

:duel:

Love bites -- bite it back!

Lemurmania - bravo back at you! And I love those pics. It all sounds so interesting . . .

You know, now that you mention it, I do recall hearing a quiet voice of warning when I first started wandering these sacred halls. Fortunately, it was quickly drowned out by the sound of demonic laughter.

The Shadow One

:duel:

Love bites - bite it back!

You think that the senior patron rituals are bad. Just wait untill you become a member. Unspeakable things that I dare not say in the entrance hall will happen. So prepair and be ready when your time will come. MUHAHAHAHAHAHA :bow:

You guys will enjoy the backroom of the tavern...

Just remember this is a family orientated site and we have 10 year olds and 70 year olds playing this game.

Papewiao:

I will direct all my future musings to the Backroom of the Tavern. Gentlemen, let's consider this thread dead. And I'll be back next week.

Sorry if I offended.

The Shadow One

Quote:

---

Originally Posted by Papewaio

... we have 10 year olds and 70 year olds playing this game.

---

Find me a 10-year-old who can define "effluvia," and I'll be amazed. But point taken, and we'll discuss this elsewhere.

Of course, everyone knows the real reason we need to move -- we cannot reveal the Masonic secrets of the Org without jeapordizing our lives. Those who speak will soon speak no more. Those who know must never reveal. Dead men tell no tales. Our teeth are a gated barrier that bars the tongue's foolishness.

As the 66th Degree Lodge instructs, so we obey.