What are your favorite / funniest / weirdest posts and threads on MaidenFans?

From Spambot's review of the new Dream Theater album:

And speaking of title track, there is nothing that I don't like but... Instead of picking it apart, here's a situation that could paint what I think about it.

Your friend invites you to a restaurant. 'They have this amazing course, you have to try it! On my expanse.' Wow, great, you haven't had a 4-meal course in a lifetime and you really like those! Even if there's something you don't like, there's, like, 4 different meals! Something out of it has to be amazing! So you sit at a table, your expectations high and the waiter brings hors d'oeuvre (cold appetizer) - homemade beef jerky and homemade potato chips. You eaten a ton of that, but this one is done differently and it's OK. So far, so good.
Second meal, warm appetizer - from large pot on the table you can smell beef soup. As you grab ladle, you pick up a piece of boiled potato. "This is basically meat-and-potato fest!" you say jokingly as your friend already slurps from his plate. 'Yeah, but it's really good, try it!' It is good, but... There are so many soups, couldn't it be from something else, you ask yourself.
Your stomach is a bit full, but you are rubbing your hands because you know the main course will come soon. As the waiter opens the lid of the main course in front of you, your friend sees your reaction and his smile turns to frown ' What's wrong?' You look at it and you try to explain. The beef looks well-done, just how you like it, there's bit of bacon in that potato salad, but... You feel cheated somehow, don't you? 'Nah, it's all good' you answer as you try first bit. And it is good, it's grilled nicely, the potato salad is tasty, but... Meat and potatoes, again? As you eat, you and your friend reminisce of the times you went to other restaurants and the more you talk, the more you remember all meals and variations you had - fish, pasta, mushrooms... There is so much food in this world! And the more you remember, the more you come to conclusion how poorly thought the course in this restaurant is.
'Wow, I'm full. This was great!' your friend pats his stomach, leaned backward in his chair. His eyebrows lift up and the question is hanging in the air 'Up for dessert?' Damn, after all this, something sweet would be really nice. It's a fancy restaurant, maybe they serve crepe. Or a piece of chocolate cake. Damn, even plain pancake would sit well now! The table is cleared, the conversation became quieter, you see people from other table paying the bill and leaving. What am I complaining about, you ask yourself, this was a good night! OK, course may be a bit better, but you cleared every plate, didn't you? It's not like it was awful so you had to spit the first bite of your food in the tablecloth and moved the plate aside. 'Here he is' your friend nods behind you back announcing the arrival of the waiter who carries two desserts high in his hands.
Suddenly, the chair flies back as you stand up and scream 'Where are they?!' The waiter takes a step back, balancing the plates in his hands and muttering 'Sir, I have no idea what you're talking about...' "Hidden cameras, that's what! Where are they, what kind of show is this?!?!' the veins on your forehead jump up as your friend tries to calm you down. 'We have cameras, yes sir, but they are only for security reasons.' the waiter speaks to you but his eyes are looking for help from the kitchen. 'I assure you, this is a restaurant, not a show...' the kitchen staff is already on the door 'Oh, yeah?!' you reply, your face now resembling to young Jack Nicholson on cocaine. "Well then..." you grab plates from his hands. "Fuck this meat pudding and fuck you!" you throw the first one and it flies across his head, but the second one hits his head, splattering the potato cream all over his face. In a matter of minutes, police comes and untangles the brawl you and your friend gotten into with the kitchen staff (the waiters stood aside and recorded everything with their smartphones).
4 AM, just awaken from bed, your wife waits for you in front of the police station. The cold wind carries her hair and the bathrobe she is clutching on this cold November night. 'What happened?' her eyes are painted with worry. You feel the bruise on your cheek. 'You wouldn't understand it, honey.' You pick up a cigarette and clutch your hands, trying to light it up. Behind your wedding ring, you see her face and you know. You just know it. The thought of divorce has ran trough her head. 'It was just meat and potatoes, honey.' You take a long inhale and the tear rolls down your cheek involuntarily. "Just meat and potatoes..."
 
It may have been mentioned already and I cannot remember the whole post, who wrote it, or how long ago....but the post where the poster posited that the way Bruce Dickinson got his famous "Scream for me Long Beach" is some shenanigans about him walking along a beach and steps on a snake and yells at the snake "Scream for me long bitch!"

And I recognize I'm probably butchering the fuck out of that original post, but goddamn has that been stuck in my head for years!
 
It may have been mentioned already and I cannot remember the whole post, who wrote it, or how long ago....but the post where the poster posited that the way Bruce Dickinson got his famous "Scream for me Long Beach" is some shenanigans about him walking along a beach and steps on a snake and yells at the snake "Scream for me long bitch!"

And I recognize I'm probably butchering the fuck out of that original post, but goddamn has that been stuck in my head for years!
In 2009 I was busy recording a history of Iron Maiden while making a 16 hour pasta sauce recipe that required due diligence at all times. My brother had dropped off the kids for a weekend and as my wife looked after them I was busy stirring and scribbling. At one point I mixed up by spatula with my pen and sauced my notes just as I inked my sauce. “Shit!” I cried. It was at this moment that Wästed the Great dropped in through my chimney, claiming that his oven had broken and he needed me to come and help him. “Well why did you call it oven?” I asked. “Because I’m about to shit on the ballpark and your ass is granite-esque.” “Indeed but let us not be mistaken, ten fists worth of Pilate will reform the ministry.” Wästed told me to knock off the shit and open the goddamn door and so I did as all good friends will. At this very moment, the red liquid thing boiled over and the notes and the sauce became one. Tomatoes began to sing of flying aces; mushrooms ranted about Queen Victoria’s weed dealings; salt began to shout out warning signs to us both as the big heaping glob of Tomaiden Sauce came to life and rose up upon its hind legs like a cursed beast I see in my dreams every night when I try to sleep but can’t because the nightmares are always there watching me in the dark. It was at this moment that my niephews ran past me in fear. Right then my wife melted in front of my eyes and turned into a snake right before my eyes. Hissing and shrieking she slid faster than a bullet train just as the phone rang and I picked up with saucy hands the receiver just to hear about my car’s extended warranty being due and library fees increasing and FBI agents at the door in a helicopter. Then, just as I was about to do the deed of the closet cornocupia routines dance, the radio flicked on. “‘Roxanne’,” said Mitch Michaels, the famous host who has been dead for thirty five summers next Tuesday. I let out a cry and screamed, “Wrong song, Mitch!!!” Wästed heard this and, mistaking it for “long bitch” (which he took to refer to my wife, the chauvinist), he went home, opened his laptop, and penned the iconic post that you now love to this very day. Please say thank you to me every time you think of it. That’ll be $5.99 but check back tomorrow cuz inflation is a… long bitch. Heheh.
Thanks in advance and you’re welcome,
Diesel “I Haven’t Had a Mustard Bath Since 1935” 11
 
In 2009 I was busy recording a history of Iron Maiden while making a 16 hour pasta sauce recipe that required due diligence at all times. My brother had dropped off the kids for a weekend and as my wife looked after them I was busy stirring and scribbling. At one point I mixed up by spatula with my pen and sauced my notes just as I inked my sauce. “Shit!” I cried. It was at this moment that Wästed the Great dropped in through my chimney, claiming that his oven had broken and he needed me to come and help him. “Well why did you call it oven?” I asked. “Because I’m about to shit on the ballpark and your ass is granite-esque.” “Indeed but let us not be mistaken, ten fists worth of Pilate will reform the ministry.” Wästed told me to knock off the shit and open the goddamn door and so I did as all good friends will. At this very moment, the red liquid thing boiled over and the notes and the sauce became one. Tomatoes began to sing of flying aces; mushrooms ranted about Queen Victoria’s weed dealings; salt began to shout out warning signs to us both as the big heaping glob of Tomaiden Sauce came to life and rose up upon its hind legs like a cursed beast I see in my dreams every night when I try to sleep but can’t because the nightmares are always there watching me in the dark. It was at this moment that my niephews ran past me in fear. Right then my wife melted in front of my eyes and turned into a snake right before my eyes. Hissing and shrieking she slid faster than a bullet train just as the phone rang and I picked up with saucy hands the receiver just to hear about my car’s extended warranty being due and library fees increasing and FBI agents at the door in a helicopter. Then, just as I was about to do the deed of the closet cornocupia routines dance, the radio flicked on. “‘Roxanne’,” said Mitch Michaels, the famous host who has been dead for thirty five summers next Tuesday. I let out a cry and screamed, “Wrong song, Mitch!!!” Wästed heard this and, mistaking it for “long bitch” (which he took to refer to my wife, the chauvinist), he went home, opened his laptop, and penned the iconic post that you now love to this very day. Please say thank you to me every time you think of it. That’ll be $5.99 but check back tomorrow cuz inflation is a… long bitch. Heheh.
Thanks in advance and you’re welcome,
Diesel “I Haven’t Had a Mustard Bath Since 1935” 11
Damn! Thanks man! I knew I butchered the shit out of that story but I’ll never forget it! Not to mention the thread title itself was fucking classic!
 
PLEASE SON OF A GREAT WHORE !!!!!!
I WANT YOU TO DESCRIBE MY ACCOUNT!!!!!!!
THEY ARE ALL CHILDREN OF A GREAT WHORE!!!!!!!!

DEATH TO THE ENGLISH!!!!!!!!!
Your account has six posts, no avatar, and the last two posts are the same, but for some reason the one in the Now Playing thread was set to have larger font.

If memory serves, you were banned during the Senjutsu runup for begging for leaks. I mean I can ban you again? What are you trying to say here?
 
I mean, it feels like he just wanted to compliment someone’s mother, but couldn’t quite find the right words for it…?

:ninja:
 
After strolling across the darkest depths of the forum, I will say my favourite threads are:

"Guess The Iron Maiden Song". I wish more members participated in it. Most unique thread we have here (Altered Maiden song-title is also fun but it is more humour based).

"Head or heart: Pick your Maiden" is also interesting.

"Top 10 Iron Maiden song intros" and "Iron Maiden riffs that got RIZZ" (both by me :p)

And many others in the Maiden Chat!

"What do you look like?" is highly underutilized.

Talking about the most ridiculous, there are plenty in 'Can I Play With Madness' section. Like "If Iron Maiden was from Germany", "Posting a meme until Iron Maiden releases new album", there is even a conspiracy theory thread on how Somewhere In Time predicted the breaking up of Yugoslavia.

There used to be this user @thousand_suns who I believe was not that tech savy and probably not a native English speaker (I mean, I'm not either!) but his threads are unintentionally hilarious.
 
There used to be this user @thousand_suns who I believe was not that tech savy and probably not a native English speaker (I mean, I'm not either!) but his threads are unintentionally hilarious.

Legendary member. Not in the best way. He started low profile but very soon everybody knew him. He lasted 1 -2 years before being banned.
I'm impressed that 14 -15 years later his mark is still visible to new members.
 
Legendary member. Not in the best way. He started low profile but very soon everybody knew him. He lasted 1 -2 years before being banned.
I'm impressed that 14 -15 years later his mark is still visible to new members.
You please to leave me out of this. Am I to be talking about? That would be nice.
 
After strolling across the darkest depths of the forum, I will say my favourite threads are:

"Guess The Iron Maiden Song". I wish more members participated in it. Most unique thread we have here (Altered Maiden song-title is also fun but it is more humour based).

"Head or heart: Pick your Maiden" is also interesting.

"Top 10 Iron Maiden song intros" and "Iron Maiden riffs that got RIZZ" (both by me :p)

And many others in the Maiden Chat!

"What do you look like?" is highly underutilized.

Talking about the most ridiculous, there are plenty in 'Can I Play With Madness' section. Like "If Iron Maiden was from Germany", "Posting a meme until Iron Maiden releases new album", there is even a conspiracy theory thread on how Somewhere In Time predicted the breaking up of Yugoslavia.

There used to be this user @thousand_suns who I believe was not that tech savy and probably not a native English speaker (I mean, I'm not either!) but his threads are unintentionally hilarious.
My question to you - Why is the iron maiden so-called?
 
Not me! I took over the original thousand_suns account, but I didn't create billion_suns!
 
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