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Giuseppe Zangara

Comments which don't warrant a thread.

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I had heard of but hadn't seen Yukon John Nord prior to, I think, Thursday on classic AWA (save for his run as the Berzerker). But in that gimmick, dude seriously reminds me of a combination of Agent and the Brawny man.

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Not when you got a gold woody PT. Skirts drop, panties get wet, lots of unstoppable fingering while I'm cruising around town. It's quite FO-NOM-IN-ALL if I dare say.

Must be the black in you.

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What is "Winner Winner Chicken Dinner"?

 

My friend Krissy and I were playing drunken skee-ball the other night. I let her win, and said that line. She asked what it was from. "St. Gabriel of Djibouti/Qatar's avatar" isn't really an answer.

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It's an old Vegas saying, back when the casinos would offer a chicken dinner for under $2. The standard bets were ~$2 so, when you won a bet, you won enough to grab a cheap chicken dinner.

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It was also used in the movie "21", which might be why the expression is being used more nowadays.

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The first thing that guy says is "I'm offended by Mayfield." Like, the guy? He's offended by the presence of a white guy?

 

Hey, let's get all angry and shit and force some white guilt. That'll make it all better.

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I heard a guy complaining about a cover band at a nearby restaurant playing "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay" the other day at work. He said something along the lines of "You hear that? A white man singing that song? That's an insult and an affront to my people!" I was like, "You gonna pay for that Whatchmacalit or what, Schoolly?"

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I heard a guy complaining about a cover band at a nearby restaurant playing "Sitting on the Dock of the Bay" the other day at work. He said something along the lines of "You hear that? A white man singing that song? That's an insult and an affront to my people!" I was like, "You gonna pay for that Whatchmacalit or what, Schoolly?"

 

I'll bet if that dude saw my jewfro he'd be disgusted.

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I didn't know where to post this, but this is a poem written by one of my friends.

 

i never really understood why he meant so much to me,

i knew he wasn't good, the badest news i ever did see,

that made me love him more and more with every bad mistake,

but i'm falling harder with every smile i fake.

 

he was the roughest, toughest man around,

with amazing bright blue eyes and he overwhelmed his crowd,

his opinion was right, only right, which made his voice so loud,

he made my stomach twist and turn with butterflies made me ill.

 

he sent me his love & his dieng promise to love me again and forever,

he told me he'd never leave my side, only if it was for the better,

he held my hand and walked me through the tough times i faced,

and now i never see him, now I have been erased.

 

do i understand why i love him? do i understand why i miss him?

do i care that he's the only one, the one who broke it, the one who stole it.

the one who holds it in a jar && taunts me with his smiling heart.

why did i fall for the one i could never have,

why did i taunt myself.

i guess this is what you call self destructive.

i guess this is what you call hell.

 

i sit here screaming, please come back,

i sit here crying reading your emails.

i sit here screaming why dont you love me back

i want you to know you ruined me. i want you to know im wrecked.

 

i hate you.

iloveyou

ihateyou

iloveyou

 

fuck you.

but i love you

dont leave me.

please leave me.

i hate you

i love you

you're addictive.

 

 

 

now its my time;;

goodbye

Very nice, good imagery, it effectively communicates the powerlessness and anxiety of unrequited love. Great poem.

 

I love it

this is amazing

and i think we all at one point know how u feel

 

and love is self destructive but probably the most beautifully worthwhile pain

 

and i wouldnt give it up to save my life

 

 

this is amazing and truly exemplifies the pain and suffereing some people can go through

i love the poem

 

 

 

I just think myspace poetry is funny.

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I love you.

You love me.

We'll go down the sugar tree

and see lots of bees.

But the bees won't sting.

Because you love me.

 

 

 

 

"That's fucking great man, did you write that?!?"

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I'm all for people writing poetry, but rather as an exercise of creativity instead of narcissism. Like in that episode of Daria where Quinn tries to explore her intellectual side, and she tells all her admirers, "Today... I found out that the words don't even have to rhyme!" then just proceeds to write poetry about french fries. It's kind of a pet peeve of mine. I'm secretly a huge poetry fan, and my expectations for poetry are exceedingly high. Conor Oberst, self-indulgent supreme being, even said, "it's better to compose a poem than compose yourself." That's true, it's supposed to be an emotional experience, but in the sense that you're supposed to learn something about yourself or the greater human condition from those emotions, not just the fact that you have them. The greatest poetry isn't even about emotions.

 

"Poetry," in those willing to participate, is a word that is equated to regurgitating your state of mind onto the paper without any intention of actually saying anything. For that, I think Frost is turning over in his grave.

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Well, if I could play Devil's Advocate for a moment...

 

devils_advocate.jpg

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ok, much better.

 

But, like all "art", if this benefits the person who wrote it, I won't condemn. Good for her working out her feelings, fine. Obviously nobody with half a brain is taking this seriously, but it's myspace, so what? It's one of my convictions that art, as it were, is not dependent on an audience, and in fact cannot exist in it's truest form with an audience at all. So yes, she should have written her retarded poetry in her notebook and showed it to nobody. But whatever.

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It's one of my convictions that art, as it were, is not dependent on an audience, and in fact cannot exist in it's truest form with an audience at all.

 

I sort of disagree with this completely. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that "art," as it were, is 100% dependent on an audience. Interpretation creates meaning, appreciation creates beauty, etc.

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^OMG WITTGENSTEIN PRIVATE LANGUAGE ARGUMENT~!

 

yeah, i don't think there's a single philosopher of aesthetics who would agree with the "no audience" statement. if art can be an entirely private experience, done only for its creator's benefit, then you could consider things like diary entries, taking drugs, and my cat cleaning itself as "arts."

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I have to know where Milky's vast resevoir of obscure Simpsons' pics is. My Simpsons thread withered and died, partly because of a lack of pics.

 

Come to think of it, Gert (I think it was him), had a good one in the hockey draft, so maybe it's the Indian and not the arrow.

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Man, I can't even smoke a cigarette on my own porch without having some black asshole ask me for money. This guy talked my ear off for five minutes. "Manmanmanuhuhuh...got these kids, right? Got these kids. The one girl, she don't even do nothin' but sit on the couch, talkin' bout manmanmanuhuh got these kids, right? What I'm gonna do is uhuhuh what I'm gonna do is, I'm gonna cut that man grass. I'm gonna cut that man grass. Got me a gas tank. I'm tryin' to do right. I'm tryin' to do right. I just need a dollar." Fucking panhandlers.

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Yeah, I live in Oakland, so I get my faaaaaaaaaaair share of black assholes asking me for money. This dude just about verbally accosted me last night asking me about the dude who lived downstairs (who recently died).

 

Although a couple of nights ago, I was taking out the trash, and some guy was sifting through it... while I was taking it out. I thought that measured up to some pretty good chutzpa.

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