Mr. S£im Citrus

Did we decide against this, or something?

Do you still update this thing, Duran?

Dateline: May 29, 2004, 08:30 Location: Room 2301, Crowne Plaza Hotel, Minneapolis, Minnesota KNOCK, KNOCK! The sound of someone knocking on the door rouses the young raven-haired beauty from her sleep. She looks across the luxurious king-sized bed at her gentleman friend. KNOCK, KNOCK! “Johnny,” she says, giving him a gentle shove, “someone’s at the door.” KNOCK, KNOCK! “Huh?” Johnny Dangerous rolls over onto his back, his consciousness slowly returning as the knocking becomes more insistent. KNOCK, KNOCK! With a sigh, the Barracuda sits up and reaches for his robe. “Hold your horses, I’ll be right there,” he calls towards the door as he gets into his slippers. “This better be important,” he mutters to himself. KNOCK, KNOCK! “Dammit,” growls Johnny, as he prepares to swing the door open forcefully. “I said I’d be right… “… There…” Johnny is suddenly at a loss for words as he finds himself standing face to face with his tag team partner, Dominic LeCroix, better known to SWF fans as the Wildchild. Though the bruises and scars are almost completely healed from Wildchild’s face, the entire right side of his body, from his waist to his neck, is covered in a moving cast that somewhat resembles body armor. “Hey.” “Nic,” stammers Johnny, “what are you doing here?” “I came here looking for you,” replies Wildchild. “Is dere someplace dat we can talk?” “Uhh… sure.” Johnny steps back into his hotel room, running his hand through his hair. “Come on in; I just need to take care of something.” Walking across the suite to the bed, he walks over towards his female companion. “Who is that,” she asks. “A friend,” replies the Barracuda. “Look, doll, my friend and I need to talk about some things, and we need some privacy, so… if you don’t mind…” “Oh,” squeals the woman. “Okay. Just let me get my things… Will I get to see you again tonight?” “Sure, doll; just leave your number on the dresser, and I’ll hook up with you later.” * TEN MINUTES LATER * “So,” asks Johnny, “can I get you anything to drink?” “Just a Sprite, if you have one.” The Barracuda walks across the suite to the refrigerator to grab a thirst-quenching Sprite out of the refrigerator and pours it into a glass before handing it back to Wildchild. Running his hand through his hair once again, Johnny sits back down. The two sit in silence for a few seconds before Johnny gets the nerve to look up at Wildchild and ask, “Dominic, why didn’t you let me come visit you in the hospital?” Now it’s the Bahama Bomber’s turn to run his hand through his hair, and he looks down at his feet before replying. “I didn’ wan’ you t’see me like dat. I was pretty beat up.” “What’s the good word on your shoulder?” Wildchild smiles weakly. “De Doctor says dat I should be able t’take dis off any day now; I should probably be able to start working out again in a few weeks.” “So, do you want to get right back into the tag team game,” asks Johnny. “Or, maybe go after a singles belt?” Wildchild shakes his head and looks back down at his feet. “Johnny… I’m…” “What’s wrong, Nic?” “I’m… I’m not comin’ back.” Johnny’s eyes grow to the size of saucers. “What? What are you talking about?” “I’m not comin’ back t’ de SWF,” repeats Wildchild. “Is it… is it something I did?” The Bahama Bomber shakes his head and smiles weakly. “Nah. I’m jus’ really tired of de fed right now; I haven’t really had fun in months. I thought that winning de Cruiserweight Title would snap me outta dis funk, but it didn’t… With alla de cruisers goin’ after de other belts, I didn’ get enough competition, an’ after I lost de belt, I just couldn’t motivate myself t’go after it again.” “Well,” asks Johnny, “what about coming back to get revenge on Van Siclen?” Wildchild pauses, sighing deeply before continuing. “Mike Van Siclen owes me a blood debt; he owes me de pound o’ flesh closest t’his heart, an’ if I ever come back to de fed, I’m gon’ collect… but right now, I’m not feelin’ it… Johnny, I’ve felt like it’s been us against de rest of de boys for de last several months, an’ I don’ like workin’ under dose conditions.” Johnny looks puzzled. “What do you mean?” “I still get the sense dat what happened between us leadin’ up to Genesis is weighin’ on dere minds,” explains Wildchild. “I always seem t’ be hearin’ whispers in de back about one or de other of us, some pretty nasty stuff.” “Like what?” Wildchild waves his hand dismissively. “Dere’s no point in namin’ names; let’s just say that it sounded a lot t’me like lots of de boys weren’t happy about our place in de company… A lot of dem seemed to secretly be happy about us losing de tag team belts, an’ were actually upset that we got another shot…” “Fuck them,” snaps Johnny. “Don’t let a couple of assholes get you down, Nic! It’s probably just jealousy! I’ll bet most of those tanked-up, roid monsters wish that they had half the natural talent that you have!” “Regardless,” continues Wildchild, “it’s not de same anymore; I feel uncomfortable around de res’ of de boys, an’ I don’ t’ink dat it should be like dat! It’s getting t’de point dat I dread coming in t’work. I don’ really need dat aggravation!” Johnny sighs deeply. “I understand where you’re coming from… Promise me one thing, though?” “What’s dat?” “Go home, man. Take a break from all this; go spend some time with your family. Get away from this altogether. And please, give it some more thought, once you’ve had a chance to recharge your batteries. Maybe you’ll change your mind.” Wildchild sighs deeply, and stands up to leave. “Fine. I’ve already told Zed dat I’m not coming back, so I’ll probably be heading back t’ Andros by Friday.” Johnny gets up as well, walking his friend to the door. “Good deal. Call me when you get home, eh?” “Oui. And now, if you can do one t’ing for me?” “Name it!” For the first time in what may be months, Wildchild flashes his trademark grin. “I saw de card for Lockdown as I was leaving Zed’s office; kick dat poser’s ass for me, all right?” Johnny breaks into a grin and claps his friend on his uninjured left shoulder. “Consider it kicked!” Johnny walks with Wildchild to the elevator and waits until it comes up to get him before walking back to his suite. The End?

I switched to Big League Chew when candy cigarettes went off the market. I find that hilarious, if for no other reason than because I actually knew a guy on my first ship who started chewing because they ran out of cigarettes in the Ship's Store on deployment. This, of course, was before they stopped selling chew aboard ship.

Go and get my cane, whippersnapper! I entered the fifth grade in '86...

Damn, you're my age? And a May baby, too? I didn't think there were ten other guys on this whole board my age or older...

Okay, so all we need now is for one of us to get rich... :: spins wheel :: Looks like it's going to be Strangler. So, stop dicking around and get rich already...

"Stripped," by Christina Aguilera. The whole CD.

"Fun" and "different" are mutually exclusive. And not having any fetishes doesn't mean that I only have sex in the missionary position. That quiz didn't ask me any questions about different positions; it was all about gagging and pissing and shitting on people, and fucking animals, and...

Many Kings Fans are talking about scrapping the core, but I think that the core (Webber, Bibby, Stojakovic, Jackson, Miller) deserve one more shot together before trying to make wholesale changes. I think that perhaps the answer could lie in free agency; one of the Kings' biggest problems was the lack of a shot blocker, and so I think that Petrie should make a serious bid for Chris Andersen. He's an energy player, and the type of guy that the Kings really need from their bench rotation. I also think that Petrie should make a run at either Emanuel Ginobili or Marquis Daniels. If Petrie can land Andersen and either Ginobili or Daniels, I could also see trading Peja in a package to get a superstar-calibur (McGrady being the most prominent rumor; Stojakovic/Christie for McGrady?) player.

How did you guys get it to say all of that stuff? Mine was only one sentence long... ================== You prefer only females for sex partners. Dominant (0 out of 5) Submissive (2 out of 5) Voyeurism (3 out of 6) Clothing (0 out of 5) Feet (0 out of 4) Spanking (1 out of 5) Bondage (0 out of 3) Humiliation (1 out of 7) Sensation (2 out of 8) Anal (0 out of 4) Exhibitionism (2 out of 5) Sleep (0 out of 7) Medical (1 out of 7) Training (0 out of 4) Food (1 out of 4) Bodyfluids (0 out of 7) Roleplaying (1 out of 6) Oral (2 out of 4) Objects (0 out of 5) Strangers (1 out of 4) Rape (0 out of 4) Groups (0 out of 3) Gagging (0 out of 4) Watersports (0 out of 5) Crushing (0 out of 5) Bestiality (0 out of 3) Fisting (0 out of 5) Finger sucking (0 out of 4) Toe sucking (0 out of 3) Masturbation (1 out of 3) Asphyxiation (0 out of 4)

In all fairness, Fox was injured during the meetings this year and did a good job on him last year. I didn't count this season; I don't think that Fox even played in the first two matchups. Those numbers I quoted were from last season.

Rick Fox hasn't "owned" Stojakovic since 2001; Peja was injured during the 2002 Playoffs, and was a non-factor. In all of the regular season games since the 2001 playoffs, Stojakovic has averaged over 26 points a game against Rick Fox, which is slightly higher than his career average.

WHOO! Well, what do you know? The Kings have some pride after all! Game 7; this time, we win!

Game 4 of the 2002 WCF. Damn you, Horry! :: shakes fist ::

That's crazy; the last three minutes of Lakers/Spurs were spectacular, but the rest of it was hot gäb-bage.

Meh; I'd rather watch Sacramento, but I'll freely admit to my bias.

Give them to me, TNT; I'll come out of retirement and defend them.

Hey, Teal Dude, I don't see the Utah Jazz bagging all the nationally televised ABC games... But, the Mavericks?

Non-Mavericks? And, oh yeah: fuck this game! Detroit and New Jersey are collectively giving Kings and Timberwolves fans around the country the middle finger...

My comment has nothing to do with you as an individual, Janus, so get off your high horse, please. It's usually considered bad form to no-show a title match when you're the defending champion. I hope that your feud with Aecas works out as well as you two hope that it does. And, if I have enough time, I hope to read it. But, that doesn't make it cool for you to shitcan a title, and it's borderline ignorant for you to not expect someone who's formerly held that title not to be irritated about it.

!!!! :: turns his cheek :: Here... you forgot to spit on this side...

Bruce Almighty 2? Bah; if Catherine Bell's not in it, I'm not interested...

... Which only goes to prove that some people have no taste when it comes to television.

Not even in Bizarro World... This thread is more a reflection of the fact that people who appreciate Frasier tend not to watch wrestling than it is a reflection that Friends is better, particularly considering that Friends was, in fact, garbage.