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A challenge for BruiserBrody.

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BUMP~!

 

I just realized I never followed up on this... sorry dudes. I also realize I forgot a couple... add Alana, Natasha & Nadia to that list. Anyway, a little bit more info like I promised (not that anyone cares, and unfortunately they're not sobbers like Jingus' or Sandman's):

 

* Daniela - Some of you have heard this story, it's probably my darkest deed and worst day. In 8th grade, I was obsessed (that's really the best way to put it, sadly) with this girl in all but one of my classes named Daniela. Unfortunately, she had a boyfriend (oh, and I was one of the most hideous people at the school, with huge glasses, dirty clothes, long hair, and a slithery rat-like appearance). So what did I do? I had "a talk" with her boyfriend, and told him that I cursed him for going out with the love of my life. As many possibly know, the only way to make a curse work is if the victim believes it. Sure enough, Carlos did, and he broke up with her. I tried many approaches, all of which failed, until Valentine's Day. Inspired by a practice during the Vietnam war of leaving a "calling card" of the suit of spades on a victim, I took face cards, all hearts, and wrote a series of poems on each one, leaving her one each period. As if that wasn't weird enough... well, one of the poems (the only one I still remember) openly referenced necrophilia (!), and she got freaked out and called the counselors on me. I was asked point-blank if I was a necrophiliac who was casting Satanic love spells. How do you answer that? Last I heard, she was a lesbian, and the joke is that it's because of me. I can't confirm that, unfortunately nobody's been able to give me a trustworthy denial of that either

 

 

 

Brody as Rhodes=Gold!

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Man I can't wait until the regular YouTube userbase comes across these videos. The comments that come through should be pretty funny.

 

WTF?

 

get your loser cunt ass off the web cam and do one of two things:

 

a) get a job

b) kill the crazy hands guy

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I'm starting to wonder if maybe the whole "I'm fucking tough I'll beat your sorry ass" isn't so much an EHME conceit as it is an MMA folder conceit. A bunch of those regulars seem to have this osmotic concept of themselves, that because they watch people fight in a cage, that they too are tough. It's like people who watch Seinfeld and think that by doing so it makes them funny as well. Even if this hypothesis is correct, it doesn't excuse a month (more, really) of dreadfully unfunny and obnoxious posts. I don't care. I just run the control panel on behalf of you guys; if a lot of you really want "BUY ME A BERREER FUOR MMY BABY MAMa AMOUTHFUCKIN NUCCAAA!!!!" out the wazoo for another month, you can have it for all I care. I don't really participate much anymore.

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I've lived in and around the city of Waterbury, Connecticut my entire life, and for the past 5 years, I've worked there as well. While my mother often speaks of a time when things were good in the city, for as long as I've ever known it, it's been a complete and utter shithole, now more then ever. While just randomly walking around the mall I work in while trying to kill time while on break today, I've noticed that not only have things in this city, or any city for that matter, not improved, they're actually getting worse. What do I see just walking around the mall for 15 minutes? I see kids as young as six just loitering, attempting to come up with elaborate schemes to distract the employees at EB while they pocket Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I see girls as young as eight openly groping their boyfriends that are five, ten, or sometimes even more years older then they are. I see children, teenagers, and adults with no clue at all how to properly behave in a public situation, and not only do they not know how to behave, but they give birth to obnoxious children that grow up to be even worse then the parents. I see girls as young as 12 who are pregnant, I see 18 year old girls that already have a child and are pregnant with a second or a third, with no clue who the father of any of them might be. I see people that can't even put together a grammatically correct sentence in English OR Spanish. I see parents that need their children to speak English for them because they're not capable of doing so themself. I see teenagers that couldn't even name one fuckin song by the Beatles, but can name every track off the latest Daddy Yankee or My Chemical Romance album.

 

Is this truely what we have come to as a society? Will we come to a point where one day Americas urban cities have no majority race, no definitive language, and no definitive culture? Has anyone even considerd the consequences of the generations of families that are giving birth to children at 14, with people becoming Grandparents in their Early-30's? Does anyone have any sort of guess as to what led society down such a rotting cesspool where Basketball Players and Football Players make millions a year but can't read or write, or where people on Welfare can go to the meat market on the first of the month and buy Filet Mignon and Prime Rib for themselves and their seventeen children, while I can barely afford a couple hamburger patties? People worry about possibly dying in a nuclear haulocaust twenty years from now, but I worry about being stabbed to death in the parking lot of the mall tomorrow by some guy who wants to steal my wallet and the six dollars I might have in there at any given time. Why does the city continue to build beautiful section 8 housing which will be destroyed in less then a year, while I can't afford 700 dollars a month to rent a two room apartment? What happened that forced the hard working people in this country to work even harder to make ends meet, while the idiots who aren't even capable of tying their own shoe get to sit at home and watch Maury all afternoon?

 

 

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Man I can't wait until the regular YouTube userbase comes across these videos. The comments that come through should be pretty funny.

 

WTF?

 

get your loser cunt ass off the web cam and do one of two things:

 

a) get a job

b) kill the crazy hands guy

 

Hah, nice. I'm waiting for someone to find the Val Venis one and think that these are actually your own words and opinions and try to call you out that he really does suck, etc.

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This is a long one, but it will be worth it.

 

Last season I ended this by going in great detail about meeting Kristin Davis. She was my favourite celebrity that I met last summer and this year that title goes to Hilary Duff.

 

I had become a Hilary fan like many people my age and sex- I thought she was pretty hot and when I found out she was only 15 I was a bit surprised. After watching the So Yesterday video a 1,000 times and spending more time in the Lizzie McGuire Sears section then anyone really should- I become a fan of the girl. Her songs were fun to listen to and she was very nice to look at. And no- she is not f-t. Plus the Hilary v. Lindsay feud made reading In Touch and US Weekly a lot of fun. I of course supported Hilary a 100%. Then Come Clean came out and my love for Hilary intensified since that song kicks tons of ass. In fact- I’m listening to it right now.

 

Discovering Lizzie McGuire made my love for Hilary intensify. Lizzie McGuire is one of those shows that I wish had aired when I was a kid- even though I probably would’ve laughed it off as a girly show and moved on. Here was a show for teens and pre-teens that actually accepted the fact that its audience (GASP!) might have a brain. While the storylines weren’t groundbreaking or super intelligent- the show was smart, fun and had many very well crafted episodes. This was a show that people could watch and relate to. The show had lessons but they really didn’t shove them down your throat- you picked them up as the episode went along. And no joke- the Gordo-Lizzie storyline was some of the most compelling TV I’ve seen. And people who say Hilary has no talent are full of shit- the girl has this ability to despite her fame and beauty- to come off like a regular teenager going through the same problems the audience is. The naivety and earnestness her character conveys made every episode a lot of fun to watch. Even though I was 19, and out of the demographic for the audience of the show, I could relate a lot to that show and a lot of the storylines really struck a chord with me and made me think.

 

I hadn’t had the best of luck to start the summer. I had to deal with the death of my two dogs and worked at a job that I hated. Hilary helped me get through all that- her music always made me feel better and for a limited time gave me a positive outlook on life. And watching an episode of Lizzie always put a big smile on my face. Even though there were a lot of dark clouds circling in my life- Listening or watching her always helped brighten up my day- if only for a little bit.

 

Hilary was my goal person to meet for the summer. I knew she had a movie coming out July 16th and I hoped she would do New York media appearances. One night while surfing her site I found out that Hilary would be doing Letterman on July 14th. I asked off for work that day and hoped another Letterman miracle would occur. I bought a card for her- I realised I wouldn’t be able to say everything I wanted to if I met her at a talk show- so I got a card and wrote her a letter basically saying everything in the above paragraph. That meaning her meant a lot to me and that she was always there to make me feel better. My goal was to meet her, give her the card and get an autograph. I would not be denied.

 

Why Not

Take a crazy chance

Why Not

Do a crazy dance

 

I was ready on July 14th- I had my magazine in hand and I was hoping this would work out. I didn’t think Hilary was that big and figured not many people would be there. I had forgotten the rule I learned from Avril and the Olsens that applies to meeting jailbait:

 

The problem with meeting teenage stars is that presumably they have just become famous and just starting to get hot. So they are starting to make media appearances for the first time and autograph collectors and dealers don’t have their autographs yet. And these people want their autographs and will not pass up the opportunity in the event the star’s celebrity flames out shortly after. (See the Olsens). So that means every collector and dealer will be there trying to get the autograph. And that’s unfortunately what happened with Hilary.

 

Even though me and my friend got there around 1:30- there was already people there and pretty soon the place was packed. There were more people for her then Will Smith. That’s sad. There was also a family who brought their two kids. I don’t think they knew how much of a zoo Letterman can be. We waited all day in the hot hot hot sun. I passed the time by writing my card to Hilary that I hoped to give her. Finally Hilary’s car pulled up and she got out. She looked so beautiful and I instantly could not believe that Hilary Duff was right near me. Autograph collectors and dealers are assholes and if they don’t get their autograph then no one will. So they began shoving people and going crazy when Hilary came out. Understandably her bodyguard got a bit nervous and I would’ve too. He yelled that we lost our chance and Hilary ran inside. I don’t blame her at all. If three years ago I was watching people shove each other and go crazy just for my autograph, especially when most of these people were middle aged men who had never seen anything I’ve ever done, well then I would’ve ran in too.

 

Let the rain fall down

And wake my dreams

Let it wash away

My sanity

 

I heard that rain was in the forecast for that day and I was worried since even though I had had one miracle in the rain- I don’t think Hilary Duff was the type to sign in pouring rain. After Hilary went in- the floodgates opened and the rain fell. Hard. In some weird way I was paying my dues to meet her I guess. We all sang Come Clean as the rain fell. It felt appropriate. The sun came out (Everybody’s waiting for a day in the sun) and I was sure Hilary would figure out our devotion, stay and sign and everything would be great.

 

In a moment everything can change

 

Hilary came out but she was in a rush and could only sign for a few people. I was not one of them. She got into her car and left, taking my dreams with her. I wasn’t too upset- I know there’s always a risk in your dreams not coming true and seeing her up close was AWESOME as she looked really good.

 

I still wasn’t as upset as I should’ve been about missing Hilary. Seeing her up close was still keeping my spirits up but then I had to take the dreaded subway. The subway is famous for killing any good spirits you might have. I had nothing to read so I read my Teen People I brought for Hilary to sign. When I turned to that page with the A Cinderella Story ad- it started to sink in. I had failed. I was a loser. My mission was to go meet Hilary Duff and get her to sign something for me. I still had not met Hilary Duff and I still had not gotten anything signed. All I had to show for it was two metrocards.

So I won't give up

No I won't break down

Sooner than it seems life turns around

And I will be strong

Even if it all goes wrong

 

Hilary hadn’t left New York yet and I hadn’t given up. Thursday she was scheduled for appearances on Live with Regis and Kelly, a signing at Toys R US and TRL. Live was out due to it being on so early and it being too hit and miss. The signing at Toys R US was risky but maybe I could somehow meet her. I had no idea how to meet anyone on TRL. But I was determined to make this work.

 

I got to Toys R US around 12 and waited for her to come in. I saw a long line of people who were going to meet her at a signing and instantly hated every single one of them. I waited around for a bit and saw her black car pull up. It went around the side and I followed suit. I saw it go in an open garage and Hilary got out. I didn’t run into the garage cause I didn’t want to die but we locked eyes and she waved to me. I waved back. So I had gotten a wave. But I still hadn’t given her my card and still hadn’t officially met her. Time to go into Toys R US to see what I could do.

 

At Toys R US, Hilary and skater Tony Hawk were hosting some promotion for something called Video Now. Hilary would be presenting it, speaking for a few minutes and then going off to sign autographs for lucky bastards who had gotten tickets. I didn’t even know about this. But still- I wasn’t giving up. I went and got close to the front and waited a while to see Hilary and Hawk come out. They did and did nice little presentations. Hilary and I locked eyes again and again we waved at each other. Hilary then had to go leave to sign autographs- I tried to get her but there was too many people. So no card, no meeting- still just two waves. Toys R US had failed. I was leaving and noticed two collectors standing in line that I recognised. They were nice guys so I didn’t hate them like I do other collectors. I informed them of my sad plight and how all I had left was TRL. They were very helpful and told me where to go to meet people on TRL. They warned me it was very hard and probably not going to happen due to overzealous security but I wasn’t about to pass this up…

 

Before I walk away

and I blow the ending

 

I went over to where TRL was and ran into some Hilary fans. Some I remembered from Letterman, others had told me about when they went to her hotel. I could’ve done all that but I think going to meet a 16 year old girl at her hotel is kind of creepy I didn’t want to come off like. I have no problem meeting celebrities at talk shows and other public events but a hotel is a different story.

 

So anyway- I was at TRL and I was so nervous. I hadn’t eaten anything all day and I was really feeling the effects. My stomach was queasy and I was on edge. If I ate something I would probably have a hard time swallowing it. I was hanging around talking about TRL and I learned that the cops usually make us wait across the street and then when the celeb comes in- it’s a free for all. This was not looking very good but I had faith. I prayed to God and hoped a miracle would occur.

 

Hilary’s security guard came up to us and told us to wait up against a wall and if we were calm, Hilary would be nice and she’d sign for us. We all went up against the wall and I felt a tinge of optimism. Then the cops came and I felt pessimistic again as they told us to go across the street. We informed them what Hilary’s guard said and they were cool with that. We would wait against a wall, Hilary would come by and if she wanted to sign- she would.

 

As each minute passed, Hilary’s arrival became closer and much more anticipated. Her bodyguard once again told us to behave and act calm and things should be fine. Don’t shove or shriek- if we give them no reason to be worried- she has no reason to not be nice. I told the girls next to me just to be calm when Hilary arrived and they can freak out as much as they want if they meet her. My heart was beating so fast at that moment- I felt like I was watching a Game 7. And I don’t like Game 7s. Right before Hilary came in her guard noticed some collectors/dealers who had been at her hotel a lot and had harassed Hilary and her mom in an attempt to get signatures and pictures. He ordered them to leave and said if they didn’t he would pull Hilary right in. And there was my caveat- I knew something had to come and screw it up. I think the collectors knew we would kill them if they stayed and by a miracle of God- they left. Everything was in motion. We had done everything they asked. All we had to do was wait.

 

I can't wait for the world to spin

I can't wait to be happenin

Ooh, What's it gonna take

 

I can't wait for the time to come

When I'll be shining like the sun

I can't wait (I can't wait)

 

Hilary showed up looking as beautiful as ever. I was towards the end of the line so I had to wait while people got their autographs. I kept waiting someone to screw it up. Someone to shove someone, someone to get pushy- these were autograph collectors and dealers. They were not known for being well-adjusted people. I asked the cop if Hilary would sign and he said yes. Don’t screw it up.

 

Then the moment occurred. Hilary Duff approached me as I stood up against a wall. I asked her to please sign for me. She said sure and I said “Thank you so much. This means a lot to me.” She smiled back and then I remembered my card. I said “Hilary- I wrote you this card and I really want you to have it.” A big smile came across her face and her eyes lit up. She thanked me and took the card. My two goals had been set. She kept signing but no one seemed to talk to her. So I kept talking to her. I told her how I enjoyed Lizzie McGuire and mentioned how I love her singing and how I looked forward to seeing A Cinderella Story. I don’t remember exactly what I said but she kept smiling at me and thanking me for being a great fan. Her bodyguard was trying to pressure into going in but Hilary refused as she said she wanted to and was going to sign for everyone. I thanked her for being such a nice person and again- she smiled at me and acted like it was nothing. I watched Hilary make a few more fans dreams come true and then she went into TRL.

 

I ran down the street in happiness. I kept saying, “I met Hilary Duff. I met Hilary Duff.” I called everyone I could and one of my messages ended up being saved on a friend’s voicemail for a long time because I was so happy and excited. Is it sad that I needed to meet a 16-year-old pop star/actress to turn my summer around? Maybe. But I don’t care. I met Hilary Duff- it took me a long time, I endured all different kinds of weather, all different kinds of heartbreak and nervousness but in the end I got to give her my card and Hilary got to know how her work deeply touched one of her fans. On July 15th- Hilary made one man’s day and more importantly- she helped give me a positive outlook on life and made me realise that dreams can come true. That subway ride back home- was a lot easier this day. I mean- I met and talked to Hilary Duff.

 

Have you ever seen such a beautiful night?

I could almost kiss the stars for shining so bright

When i see you smiling, I go

oh oh oh

I would never want to miss this

Cuz in my heart I know what this is

 

Hey now

Hey now

This is what dreams are made of

Hey now

Hey now

This is what dreams are made of

I've got somewhere I belong

I've got somebody to love

This is what dreams are made of

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CheesalaIsGood is a pinko cocksucker. Downhome cries when a wrestler dies, that cunt. Bob Barron needs to wash his hat. kkktookmybabyaway is as stale as a month-old loaf of bread. Sandman9000 is so over-the-top angry that he loses effectiveness. Kotzenjunge is a wild-eyed drugged-out loon who thinks the Bush Administration withholds the truth about space aliens. Matt Young starts goddamned fucking shitty threads, everyone calls him on it, and he backpedals and says it was just a joke and he was working the board, as if anyone believes him, the motherfucker. Meatwad likes shitty morning radio shows. Ripper never met a black person he wouldn't go to bat for. FFMS deletes boards. RavishingRickRudo uses wrestling analysis on non-wrestling TV shows. Lord of the Curry got mad at me for saying that the Broken Social Scene s/t would've been better if they bothered to actually mix the fucking thing and have some semblance of dynamic contrast, fuck him for disagreeing with me. Nobody says "I deserve repeated punches to the face" like pink shirt-wearing collar-popping Zack Malibu. CanadianGuitarist and redbaron51 are like the B-team to RudoCurry in that they are Canadian, and friends with each other, but not as remarkable, so screw you for being harder to rip on. Niskie is a sick fuck who probably likes when horribly tattooed girls piss in his mouth. Fuck Banky. Netslob probably doesn't bathe. Popick's veneer of unbridled masculinity has grown tiresome, and I hope he contracts a list of STDs when he sleeps with a girl he doesn't really care for. Alfdogg CARES ABOUT AN E-FED FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, AN E-FED. Porter likes the White Sox, which speaks volumes. Damaramu is a fucking batshit lunatic when it comes to sports, and life, to the point where I defend him because I cannot bear another one of his explosions. Agent of Oblivion is going soft on us. Cena's Writer turns every NBA thread into irrelevant Isiah Thomas discussion. Masked Man Of Mystery is a "professional otaku," more like "amateur dicksmack." Tack is pretending to be a Nazi and as a partial Jew it's offensive. Will Scarlet has a creepy Asian fetish, creepier than most people's. CWM couldn't ace a 2nd grade spelling test if he was held at gunpoint. Carnival has an affliction traditionally reserved for vaginas. Precious Roy is a dumbshit who is trying to argue that could means the same thing as couldn't; so "don't go fuck yourself," I guess that must mean "go fuck yourself." Bigolsmitty thinks he's hot shit because he can superficially contradict a conservative in CE, but his sources are usually of the same questionable veracity as those of his adversaries. Hunter's Torn Quad thinks he's hot shit because he has a subscription to Meltzer's rag, and carries himself like some mix of nikjohns, Scott Keith, and the comic book guy. EricMM should go tie himself to a redwood tree that's about to get hit by a nuclear bomb coated in industrial waste so we never have to hear him bitch again, the green little bastard. Kingofthe909 was so terrible at the beginning that we all thought he was Johnson, which is a real insult, and all he ever said was "SUCK MY DICK!" StylesMark is the biggest pain in the ass this board has ever had and I wish he was gone. FBTG IS gone, which is good, because he was a worthless mick who wished cancer on people, and may have just been Gheyme, anyway. Vyce is a latent homosexual, evidenced by his oral fixation manifested in cigarette smoking, and there's gotta be some connection to the whole lawyer thing too. USTU is a beer-swilling mook who deserves every bit of ridicule that this board piles on him.

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I've lived in and around the city of Waterbury, Connecticut my entire life, and for the past 5 years, I've worked there as well. While my mother often speaks of a time when things were good in the city, for as long as I've ever known it, it's been a complete and utter shithole, now more then ever. While just randomly walking around the mall I work in while trying to kill time while on break today, I've noticed that not only have things in this city, or any city for that matter, not improved, they're actually getting worse. What do I see just walking around the mall for 15 minutes? I see kids as young as six just loitering, attempting to come up with elaborate schemes to distract the employees at EB while they pocket Yu-Gi-Oh cards. I see girls as young as eight openly groping their boyfriends that are five, ten, or sometimes even more years older then they are. I see children, teenagers, and adults with no clue at all how to properly behave in a public situation, and not only do they not know how to behave, but they give birth to obnoxious children that grow up to be even worse then the parents. I see girls as young as 12 who are pregnant, I see 18 year old girls that already have a child and are pregnant with a second or a third, with no clue who the father of any of them might be. I see people that can't even put together a grammatically correct sentence in English OR Spanish. I see parents that need their children to speak English for them because they're not capable of doing so themself. I see teenagers that couldn't even name one fuckin song by the Beatles, but can name every track off the latest Daddy Yankee or My Chemical Romance album.

 

Is this truely what we have come to as a society? Will we come to a point where one day Americas urban cities have no majority race, no definitive language, and no definitive culture? Has anyone even considerd the consequences of the generations of families that are giving birth to children at 14, with people becoming Grandparents in their Early-30's? Does anyone have any sort of guess as to what led society down such a rotting cesspool where Basketball Players and Football Players make millions a year but can't read or write, or where people on Welfare can go to the meat market on the first of the month and buy Filet Mignon and Prime Rib for themselves and their seventeen children, while I can barely afford a couple hamburger patties? People worry about possibly dying in a nuclear haulocaust twenty years from now, but I worry about being stabbed to death in the parking lot of the mall tomorrow by some guy who wants to steal my wallet and the six dollars I might have in there at any given time. Why does the city continue to build beautiful section 8 housing which will be destroyed in less then a year, while I can't afford 700 dollars a month to rent a two room apartment? What happened that forced the hard working people in this country to work even harder to make ends meet, while the idiots who aren't even capable of tying their own shoe get to sit at home and watch Maury all afternoon?

 

For some reason, I can't get the sound on this one...and it makes the video approximately 10x hilarious than it already would have been. *****

 

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I know, that's what makes it so amazing. Bonus points if you cue up the Hillary songs quoted therein at appropriate moments.

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How did this beef between you and I start, EHME? I already told you it's my policy not to take a public stance on matters of bannings. Had I voted you back in it would have violated that policy and the whole natural order of TSM would have been disrupted. Besides which, you won. No need to complain.

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Guest Vitamin X

Wow, I'm shocked I wasn't included on Czech's list of targets in that rant from 2006 there.

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How did this beef between you and I start, EHME? I already told you it's my policy not to take a public stance on matters of bannings. Had I voted you back in it would have violated that policy and the whole natural order of TSM would have been disrupted. Besides which, you won. No need to complain.

 

Wrong. You told me that you didn't vote me back in because you didn't want to make Czech mad, which makes you a punk ass biatch.

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That too. Czech is my buddy and I didn't want to undermine his power to act unilaterally, considering that he's the de facto leader of the board in most situations. If I'm not in his good graces, how am I ever going to work my way into a mod spot once CWM and Agent are ousted in the coup of the century?

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Well, I have become something that I didn't think REALLY happened to anybody.

 

I am a guy who was beaten -- rather savagely --- by my (now ex-) fiancee.

 

Snce July, she had beaten me 4 times. Usually, it was nothing more than slaps, an attempted kick to the groin, and hair-pulling.

 

On Thursday, when I informed her I was, in fact, leaving town immediately, she beat me for 20 minutes straight. She smashed her portable phone over my head, opening up a rather nice-sized gash and the blood pouring down my face caused the neighbors to call the cops on my behalf.

 

So, 2 questions:

 

1) How many other guys have had this problem? I doubt I'm the ONLY guy who's had a girl just hammer on him for (literally) no real reason. I never once hit her back.

 

2 What the heck, honestly, can a guy do? I can't punch her back as it makes ME the evil one for doing so --- but being a sitting duck and a punching bag is not something anybody should have to suffer. So, and I am asking this sincerely and sincere advice would be appreciated, what the heck can a guy do in that situation?

 

--Mike

 

I'm sure there are better Mike posts, but I thought I'd throw that one out there

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Here's a better one-

 

But as for the unattainable crush? Sit down and shut up. You all don't know. You have no fucking clue.

 

Her name is Emily. Her last name was impossible to pronounce, and even worse to spell. She was... beautiful. I mean, perfect. We're talking "elf maiden in a Tolkien story" impossibly, terrifyingly pretty. She really WAS slender as a willow-wand and clearer than clear water. So smooth, soft, and flawlessly symmetrical as to inspire intimidation in the person who viewed her. Intelligent to boot, obviously smart, a good student. She was an actress, a dancer, a photographer, and a singer, and was very talented and polished at all of the above. Even her handwriting was a thing of beauty, as she was obviously trained in the art of calligraphy.

 

But she was born rich, and brought up privileged, religious, and possibly spoiled. Obviously pushed onwards by parents who wanted greatness for their child (and got it). I'm told that she had an older sister who didn't shine as brightly, I don't know, I never met her. She was most likely told from day one that she was Special and Superior, if not even The Best. The most amazing part being that she fulfilled it.

 

We went to the same high school. We shared an interest in theater, and were often in the same drama classes and plays over the course of two years. I was a sophmore when I first became infatuated, she a junior. I was not nearly as polished or talented. I was fat, unathletic, a bad singer, and a mediocre actor. I was stunted emotionally, the result of a depressing and isolated childhood of precocious intellect mixed with a complete lack of any social skills. The only girlfriend I ever had in high school ended up with me because some mutual friends matchmade us together, and we saw each other out of convenience, two lonely geeks who didn't have anyone better to share affection with. From the beginning, I was doomed with Emily. I truly had no chance. And I knew it.

 

The most agonizing part of it all was spending so damn much time around her, due to the fact that we were in the same class together every day, plus we were both involved in several of the same plays. I barely even talked to her. I just stared, silently, when she wasn't looking. She barely knew I existed, and whenever she did interact with me, she seemed more warily polite than anything else, the way you are when you're around somebody who's not all there. She was a big hugger, was always hugging everyone firmly, warmly, and daily. I think I can count on my hands the number of times we hugged in two years, and they were always short and light, the contact of someone who would really rather be elsewhere.

 

Emily did, once, agree to be in a video project of mine during her senior year. Somehow, I even convinced her to dress up in a cat suit at one point (I'd seen her wear it at Halloween). I still don't know why she did this for me. It seems out of character. She was so firmly neutral towards me.

 

I never saw any of her boyfriends, except for this one guy she was flirting with. He was a guest instructor we had, a big handsome guy in his mid-twenties who looked like a hunky extra out of Braveheart. They rode next to each other on the bus on a long field trip once, I heard them whispering and Emily giggling. One of my friends later shared a story about how he walked into the guy's room, and she was sitting on his bed, braiding his hair. On the same field trip, at a restaraunt (she happened to be sitting next to me) I jokingly waved a table knife in a harmless Jackie Chan-ish manner, and she, not joking at all, politely (even fearfully) asked me to please put the knife down before I hurt someone.

 

It got to the point where I was depressed, even near-suicidal. Other people started noticing how despondent I was, but I was such a goddamned weirdo that nobody knew what to do about it. Our drama teacher once confronted me in tears, having heard a (false) rumor that I claimed to be planning to kill myself onstage during a performance. I eventually admitted to a few people how I felt about Emily, it must've gotten back to her eventually, but nothing was ever said. My own mother told me, "She's out of your league." Nothing more needed saying.

 

So what does one do? I decided to stop loving her, plain and simple. I told everyone that the feeling had just ended, period, and I was resolved to turn that into a reality within. She graduated and left, I got back together with my girlfriend for a while (who never knew about the entire ordeal, poor thing) and went on with my life. Even when she came back to visit one afternoon, I completely ignored her.

 

But there were warning signs. I wrote a screenplay, a character study about a bunch of kids in a house waiting for the end of the world. One of the characters was more or less me, and another was basically her. In this story, "Crystal" eventually reterned "Alex"s feelings for her, won over by his undying devotion to her in the face of the apocalypse itself. Of course she did. It was MY book, dammit.

 

Then I ended up going to the same college as Emily.

 

It was NOT because of her, I swear. It was a big state school, anywhere from 20-30% of our graduating class went there every year. I went there because it was close, convenient, and cheap. She went there because she'd failed to get into the musical conservatory she'd wanted, and this was the only other university she'd applied to. We ran into each other very rarely, I don't think we talked more than a dozen times.

 

Then I met a wonderful, brilliant, fiery young woman, I'll call her Sue, and we fell in love, sort of. It (and she) were very complicated, she had some mental problems, but hey, she was fucking great in bed, pun intended, so I had no complaints for a while. I made new friends, learned new skills, and grew up more than a bit.

 

But none of it mattered. I regressed back to being the same socially illiterate 16-year-old troll whenever I spole to Emily. By chance I found a copy of her resume (complete with her measurements), which threw me for a loop. And whether or not I wanted to admit it, I was still madly in forever-unreciprocated love with her. It started causing problems, hughe ones, in my relationship with Sue. It was all the worse since they were both music majors, were in many of the same classes and performances. Sue, a bisexual for whom self-image was never a strongpoint, felt herself dying in comparison with Emily, and insisted that I do something, anything, to end it.

 

So I wrote a letter.

 

I must've revised and rewritten that goddamned letter a hundred times. I made it more detailed to explain everything about how I felt, but then it was too long, so I shortened it, but then it left important points in the dark. I worried endlessly about the words, the phrasings; would she be offended if I said this? If I voiced this feeling, would I find myself slapped with a restraining order? I debated whether or not to boldly put my name on it, or remain in safe, cowardly anonymity. I even had some of my female friends go over it, making suggestions and revisions. I finally stopped when one told me, "I wish that someone would write a letter like this to me."

 

The final version detailed my feelings for her in high school, mentioned the problems with Sue while not specifying who she was, and ending with me saying that I was above and past it all now, that I had exercised my will as a human being and this letter was my last shot at closure (which was more hope than fact). I specified that I wasn't necessarily asking for any kind of reciprocation, pity, or any feeling at all, beyond hoping that she understood, as a fellow human being, what I had felt. And at the bottom I signed my name, large and proud. I mailed it to her, and waited. And waited.

 

She never responded.

 

I never asked, either. From then on, I avoided her like the plague. If I saw her, I fled. I think I might've said "hello" once, when trapped waiting in the same line as her, but that was it. Sue might've been able to help, but she liked her mindgames, and never really confirmed whether or not Emily had ever talked about it. Eventually I dropped out of school, and she went on to graduate. I haven't seen her since.

 

Flash forward two and a half years. Emily's married. I found this out when I saw her name listed in the paper, and suddenly she had a hyphenated last name with an extra word on the end. I imagine him to be a rich young doctor who looks like Matt Damon, and hate him thoroughly. I'm still living at home, having done not a hell of a lot with my life. After me and Sue finally (nastily) broke up, I never got into another relationship. Really, no opprotunities have presented themselves, and I'm not the type to go looking for them myself. There have been a couple of other women which I liked, quite a lot, but they've all had stable boyfriends already. So I'm left cut off, unfinished, a story without an ending. I might very well never see her again. That might be easiest. The mere idea of even running into her sets me to trembling.

 

So inconclusion, fuck all of you who say "there's always a chance". Fuck you all who urge people to follow their dreams no matter what the fear or the cost. Fuck you all who dare to have enough blind hubris to tell me that it might have been different. You're all fools, lunatics, and God-damned liars. All too often this life SUCKS, and there's NOTHING we can do about it, PERIOD.

 

And I won't even think about the most awful, depressing, terrifying possibility of all; which is that you could all be right.

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Dangerous Donnie D. I remember that guy. See, the difference here is that Donnie is a redneck, with wigger like tendencies, where as I am white trash, raised around and with other trash of all colors.

 

Now, the difference between me and them, is that I graduated high school. I actually was expelled from public school,

so I had to work multiple jobs to pay to go to a Christian school. I was in 9th grade for 3 years in public school, 'cause I was fuckin up. But I still graduated the year I was supposed to, because I worked my goddamn ass off to get that diploma. Then I got accepted to The Art Institute of Pittsburgh, into the media arts and animation field, which is hard as hell to get into with no scholarships. So I was doing that, and doing good at it. Then I had like, 5 family/friends with deaths/somethin fucked up happening to 'em. See, I bettered myself, I'm getting an education in a field that'll have me making around 200 grand a year within a year of graduating. I've got my mom living life better then she ever has right now. I didn't embrace being ignorrant. I didn't want to end up like any adult that I knew. And I haven't.

 

I was born poor white trash. I am white trash, i'm a wigger, a nigger, donnie d, teddy bear, the fuck ever, man. You gotta understand, I've heard it all from black and white people, I grew up being called a nigger and a redneck, and white trash, nigga, cracka, and all that. Nothin' you can say to me means anything, really. I hear worse said face to face on a daily basis, I'm sure.

 

And the yankees cap. Here's how I shop for hats: walk into Lids, look around for something Carolina Blue, no matter what team/sport it is. If that doesn't work out, I look at the black and white hats, usually The Yankees, Dodgers or White Sox.

 

The shit is just art of my apparel, son. I'm not trying to show support for a team, or represent that shit like that. It ain't no different then the rest of my clothes. I wear Hillfiger, or Phat Farm, Nautica, Polo and I'm not wearing any of those to represent the brand itself. The shit just looks cool to me, and it's the way that I've dressed since I can remember.

 

 

Ya'll mofuckers call me what you want. I just know, ya'll's the dudes all up in LSD gettin emotional like bitches.

 

Every folder, as a matter of fact. I see all types of bitchassness goin on in this bitch. Man...

 

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That too. Czech is my buddy and I didn't want to undermine his power to act unilaterally, considering that he's the de facto leader of the board in most situations. If I'm not in his good graces, how am I ever going to work my way into a mod spot once CWM and Agent are ousted in the coup of the century?

 

Pussy, punk bitch. We'll never be cool again homes.

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I work out harder than just about anyone. I don't talk much, and I guarantee I've made more progress in the 2 years I have been working out than any of the fat pathetic slobs here who are jealous of my physique.

 

And I won't become a woman murderer... But I am going to visit my friend Tim in Huntington this summer, and, if given the opportunity, I'd love to get my hands on Dandy. I swear on my life, he wouldn't be talking shit anymore.

 

 

I would like this read while you wear a headband, hopefully squeezing a Gripmaster, and choking back tears as you deliver an intense verbal discourse. You know...like Matt did when he originally posted it.

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Take me away

To your favorite place.

Hold my hand,

Run away with me!

 

Atop a cliff, kiss me.

Make a wish,

Drop a penny to the bottom,

Watch the birds fly away.

 

Whisper me a secret,

Tell me your middle name.

I'll admit I'm afraid of the dark,

Unless it's dark with you..

 

Tell me a joke, make me laugh.

I'll look into your eyes, your hypnotizing eyes.

You'll smile, I'll laugh, We'll kiss.

 

Around you, my heart beats 3x faster.

Sometimes, I have to catch my breath.

You tend to leave me speechless,

And always begging for more.

 

Lets travel to Europe together.

Make love in Italy,

Make out in Paris,

Eat great food, drink fine wine.

 

Lay next to me on the beach.

Watch the sun go down.

Count all the shooting stars at night.

Maybe, I'll show you my rack..

 

This poem.. sucks.

But I hope you've enjoyed it.

With 1000 Kisses; I hope this, not trite.

I fare thee well, and Bid thee Goodnight

 

 

 

With all my Heart,

Your secret admirer.. ; )

 

 

 

 

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

It's a letter written to pbone from a girl in high school that he shared in the weird girls thread.

 

It's short and concise. Brody, make a masterpiece.

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Take me away

To your favorite place.

Hold my hand,

Run away with me!

 

Atop a cliff, kiss me.

Make a wish,

Drop a penny to the bottom,

Watch the birds fly away.

 

Whisper me a secret,

Tell me your middle name.

I'll admit I'm afraid of the dark,

Unless it's dark with you..

 

Tell me a joke, make me laugh.

I'll look into your eyes, your hypnotizing eyes.

You'll smile, I'll laugh, We'll kiss.

 

Around you, my heart beats 3x faster.

Sometimes, I have to catch my breath.

You tend to leave me speechless,

And always begging for more.

 

Lets travel to Europe together.

Make love in Italy,

Make out in Paris,

Eat great food, drink fine wine.

 

Lay next to me on the beach.

Watch the sun go down.

Count all the shooting stars at night.

Maybe, I'll show you my rack..

 

This poem.. sucks.

But I hope you've enjoyed it.

With 1000 Kisses; I hope this, not trite.

I fare thee well, and Bid thee Goodnight

 

 

 

With all my Heart,

Your secret admirer.. ; )

 

 

 

 

 

xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo

 

It's a letter written to pbone from a girl in high school that he shared in the weird girls thread.

 

It's short and concise. Brody, make a masterpiece.

 

 

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I'm starting to wonder if maybe the whole "I'm fucking tough I'll beat your sorry ass" isn't so much an EHME conceit as it is an MMA folder conceit. A bunch of those regulars seem to have this osmotic concept of themselves, that because they watch people fight in a cage, that they too are tough. It's like people who watch Seinfeld and think that by doing so it makes them funny as well. Even if this hypothesis is correct, it doesn't excuse a month (more, really) of dreadfully unfunny and obnoxious posts. I don't care. I just run the control panel on behalf of you guys; if a lot of you really want "BUY ME A BERREER FUOR MMY BABY MAMa AMOUTHFUCKIN NUCCAAA!!!!" out the wazoo for another month, you can have it for all I care. I don't really participate much anymore.

 

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