UPDATE:In response to my last post, the local riff raff (under the guise of pseudonymn exywamer) have been in touch:
"So you wanna be one of those Namby Pamby brittish Comandoes do you?... sipping tea and discussing cricket and shooting people with trick watches. You might occasionally appear on Dr Who in a gravel quarry, but you get killed by someone dressed in tin foil pretty quick...
pathetic...
me I'd rather be an American Commando like in that Arnie Movie... whats it called again...
COMMANDO!
You don't need no stinking trick watch. Just break into a garden shed and use lawn mower blades to wipe out your army of enemies...
The bad guy in Commando was an Aussie and he was almost as tough as Arnie. So I guess us Aussies can be American style Commando's... as long as we're evil.
I think I wanna be an evil Cammando! Can you be my arch nemesis? I've always wanted one."
Well, how about that?
No sooner than I declare my intentions for justice and goodwill, the bad guys are crawling out of the woodwork intent on obliterating humanity and terrorising us with worse grammar.
(For your information exywamer, I have no intention of becoming a: "...brittish commandoe".
My measured response:"Dear exywamer
Accepting a nemesis is a decision one should never rush into.
It should, however, be conducted in a heartfelt and timely manner, leaving both particpants on an equally satisfied footing.
At first, there were so many questions.
I wanted to wear black. Black with red trim.
Would this conflict with Simon's potential uniforme de choice? or would he have problems with my demand?
Would Simon maintain a posse of henchmen?
If so, would I also be expected to establish and maintain my own posse, or would I get custody of his over the weekends?
However, in coming to my conclusion I have decided to accept you as my nemesis on a full-time basis (rising to arch-nemesis after 3 month trial period has been fulfilled) on the condition that you promise to wear a bright green beret at a dashing and jaunty angle whenever conducting nemesis promotional/gala duties.
Best,
larph."
Exywamer replied almost immediately, his lust for nemesi apparently unquenchable:
"I accept your terms. No need to worry about hench men. I don't touch em myself because I am such a BAD ARSE er I mean ASS. I might ally myself with some South American drug lords, but only if it helps me get revenge on you.
As far as the Green beret goes. I was actually thinking along the same lines anyway. Black with the red trim are your colours.
Here are my terms
WE MUST NEVER DO BATTLE ON HOLY GROUND.
OR WITHIN A 500 METER RADIUS OF ANY TIM HORTONS DONUT FRANCHISE,
this includes Service Stations and shopping malls with Tim Hortons. This pretty much means that the whole province of Nova Scotia is neutral territory.
One question. Am i the bad guy or are you? I'm comfortable being the bad guy. But if you want to alternate, the whole good bad guy thing, them I'm cool with that to. I don't want to assume anything."
I have to admit I was not expecting to do battle for the forces of good so soon - I have barely had enough time to press my trousers, although I did manage to do a few sit-ups lastnight.
Wish me luck, blogosphere.
