Kinetic

Ahhh! Woooo! Tits!!!

Why couldn't they do that on TV? There's no kayfabe reason, given that Edge was the lead Flair cheerleader.

Ahhhh! Whoooo! Tits!!!

I'm not your fucking slave, cunt. Whatever you say, dear. How many times and with what caliber weapon? EDIT: This being in reference to what Ginger Snaps wrote. My blind impulse to reproduce tells me that other people have said things, but I can't be bothered to figure out what.

Shut up, bitch. God damn, what I wouldn't do to plant my seed in you.

I thought of Favre during Flair's segment, and thought of how much more satisfying his retirement press conference would have been if it had been done in "This Is Your Life" format. Like...here's Sterling Sharpe! Here's Mike Holmgren! Remember Reggie White? Here's a lawyer representing his widow!

Hell of a sendoff for Flair. Let's just hope that he never, ever steps foot inside a ring in any sort of wrestling capacity ever again. I mean, with all due respect, this should have happened ten years ago. But God bless Vince McMahon for buying up the entirety of wrestling's past and making something like this possible. I couldn't give a shit less about wrestling at this point, but I watched this.

What did George Feeny do to land in the Whiny Bitches folder? I mean, I hate the elderly as much as the next guy, but that just seems unnecessarily cruel.

I think that the general feeling with season openers is that you don't have to trot out your marquee games, because people are so desperate to see meaningful football that they'll watch anything. Still, Raiders-Broncos is a hard sell.

Thursday night opener is Giants-Redskins. Pretty bold going with an NFC East game like that. The Sunday nighter is the Battle For Tzar Lysergic's Heart and Mind as Indy hosts Chicago. Monday night doubleheader sucks a dick: Vikings-Packers and Broncos-Raiders. EDIT: Man, fuck this shit. You beat me to the punch.

I somehow doubt your sincerity. Anyway, I couldn't sleep last night, either. I'm considering getting really drunk tonight, as that usually helps.

The fuck is a Smues? Oh, yeah. That Alaskan guy.

I couldn't get to sleep last night and I blame this place. All night, people's stupid usernames were bouncing off the walls of my brain like the little digital ball in Pong: Ortonsault...Leena...Edwin MacPhisto...Penis Skullduggery. It was awful! With this coming hot on the heels of my "American Idol"-themed pornographic dream from the night before, I'm beginning to have some serious misgivings about the worthless nonsense I'm filling my brain with.

I'm sitting here laughing at that, thinking "What the hell thread is that appropriate for?" Posting ridiculously nerdy things in the wrong thread could--nay, should--become a new board trend.

Celebrating birthdays today are AnnieEclectic (26) and AnnieEclectic's Vagina (1).

Point well taken. Anyway, uh...let's try The Replacements OR Husker Du. The latter has never been able to move beyond "Band I Don't Get" status for me, while the former is a sentimental favorite.

"PYT" is Thriller's official unintentional comedy song, if I'm not mistaken.

Not even one of Paul McCartney's more notable crimes against humanity, "The Girl is Mine"?

I've never really understood the love for What's Going On and songs like "Let's Get It On" and "Sexual Healing" don't work as anything more than a novelty for me. Al Green, on the other hand, is, as pbone mentioned, awesome.

Let's try Marvin Gaye or Al Green. Or, if you prefer, Tupac or Biggie. My preferences are Al Green and B.I.G.

Lennon was the much more consistent songwriter. McCartney was definitely capable of some soaring heights, but was frequently guilty of faggoting up their best records with tripe like "Honey Pie" and "When I'm Sixty-Four." So I'd have to go with Lennon, but it's hardly a landslide. Both produced more than a few of my favorite songs.

Take it to the "Black People Showdown" thread.

My ill-advised gimmickry has cost the Maff Clique dearly in Leena's contest. Apologies all around, sirs.

And this eventually leads to language becoming so debased that we'll be communicating through nothing but a series of monosyllabic grunts. "Shaw." "Right." "Is." "Word." I just gave you directions to the Hartsfield-Jackson Airport.