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Stop Hateing!

Started by djfredski, March 30, 2008, 07:03:40 PM

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Mr. Hamrick

i had to login real quick just to say the following:

THANK YOU AND CONGRATULATIONS KANSAS FOR BEATING MEMPHIS IN OT

I am all for the idea of a fantasy football league but the problem is that I am more into NCAA than NBA or NFL. 

Why does it not surprise me that Spud would cheer for the Gators.  Some people have no taste.


Oh and anyone have any favorites in the Stanley Cup Playoffs?

murs47

Oh c'mon, where's the love for baseball? :huh:

yell0w_lantern

Where is the "spell-check" is the real question.

Gremlin

Quote from: murs47 on April 08, 2008, 07:39:12 AM
Oh c'mon, where's the love for baseball? :huh:

Weeeeeee threw it out the window!
The window!
The second-story window!
With a heave and a ho and a mighty throw
We threw it out the window!

BlueBard

Quote from: yell0w_lantern on April 08, 2008, 08:42:01 AM
Where is the "spell-check" is the real question.

Quote from: Gremlin on April 08, 2008, 01:06:14 PM
Weeeeeee threw it out the window!
The window!
The second-story window!
With a heave and a ho and a mighty throw
We threw it out the window!

Previsionary

Quote from: yell0w_lantern on April 08, 2008, 08:42:01 AM
Where is the "spell-check" is the real question.

waat is slelp ckcjke? Soonds lik heateinf to em! :thumbdown:

Gremlin

Quote from: BlueBard on April 08, 2008, 02:54:04 PM
Quote from: yell0w_lantern on April 08, 2008, 08:42:01 AM
Where is the "spell-check" is the real question.

Quote from: Gremlin on April 08, 2008, 01:06:14 PM
Weeeeeee threw it out the window!
The window!
The second-story window!
With a heave and a ho and a mighty throw
We threw it out the window!

No, that one we locked in the basement.
I said bassment at first.
It is filled with low-pitched resonant string instruments!

djfredski

 :doh: I can't believe this is happing to me! :banghead: :banghead: :banghead: :doh:

BWPS

dren happs... dren happs.

Sevenforce

*reads through thread

Grammatical self - *twitch*

That is all

GogglesPizanno

I think im starting to hate again... stop me!

Quotedren happs
* Kudos on the reference there sparky...

cmdrkoenig67

Quote from: djfredski on April 05, 2008, 02:24:52 PM
The Memphis Tigers is a Basketball team that is in the Final Four Big Head. :angry: :angry: :angry:

I've never heard of the "Final Four Big Head"...Is that some sort of play-off thingy?

Dana :wacko:

cmdrkoenig67

Quote from: Gremlin on April 07, 2008, 12:28:35 PM
Quote from: ow_tiobe_sb on April 07, 2008, 08:56:58 AM
Quote from: Raptor on April 07, 2008, 08:49:51 AM
But it's April....  :blink:

...the cruelest month (also, coincidentally, National Poetry Month).  ^_^

ow_tiobe_sb
Phantom Bunburyist and Fop o' th' Morning

Cruel because the poetry all about pain and suffering, or that it's just really crappy?

I bet it's the "April Showers" that make it the cruelest month.

Dana :P

djfredski


ow_tiobe_sb

Quote from: djfredski on April 13, 2008, 02:46:25 PM
So cruel. :(
to be kind...

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote
The drogte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendered is the flour;
Whan Zephirus with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh him Nature in hir corages);
Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne hawles, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Cauntebury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.


ow_tiobe_sb
Fantome Bonburyiste and Foppe oþ the Morwening

thalaw2

I loves some Chaucer. 

BlueBard

Quote from: ow_tiobe_sb on April 13, 2008, 06:16:20 PM
Quote from: djfredski on April 13, 2008, 02:46:25 PM
So cruel. :(
to be kind...

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote
The drogte of March hath perced to the roote
And bathed every veyne in swich licour
Of which vertu engendered is the flour;
Whan Zephirus with his sweete breeth
Inspired hath in every holt and heeth
Tendre croppes, and the yonge sonne
Hath in the Ram his halve cours yronne,
And smale foweles maken melodye,
That slepen al the nyght with open ye
(so priketh him Nature in hir corages);
Than longen folk to goon on pilgrimages,
And palmeres for to seken straunge strondes,
To ferne hawles, kowthe in sondry londes;
And specially from every shires ende
Of Engelond to Cauntebury they wende,
The hooly blisful martir for to seke,
That hem hath holpen whan that they were seeke.


ow_tiobe_sb
Fantome Bonburyiste and Foppe oþ the Morwening

Arrgh!  More misspellings!  Let this thread die, please!

[spoiler]Okay, I know that that's the way they spelled things back then.  I also know that by and large people often made up their own spelling because there were no dictionaries to speak of.  And in some other context, say a literary one, I wouldn't blink.  But if the point of this thread is to drive BlueBard nuts with horrible spelling, it's working.[/spoiler]

ow_tiobe_sb

Quote from: BlueBard on April 14, 2008, 07:57:15 AM
Arrgh!  More misspellings!  Let this thread die, please!

I'm afraid it simply won't die--and, even if it did, it would not stay dead--hence the cruelty of the month:
[spoiler]
Quote from: "The Waste Land" by T. S. Eliot
Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et c.u.m. illi pueri dicerent:
Σίβυλλα τί θέλεις; respondebat illa: αποθανειν θέλω.


I. THE BURIAL OF THE DEAD

April is the cruellest month, breeding   
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing   
Memory and desire, stirring   
Dull roots with spring rain.   
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding   
A little life with dried tubers. ...

What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow   
Out of this stony rubbish? Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only   
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,   
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,   
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only   
There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),   
And I will show you something different from either   
Your shadow at morning striding behind you   
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;   
I will show you fear in a handful of dust. ...

Unreal City,
Under the brown fog of a winter dawn,   
A crowd flowed over London Bridge, so many,   
I had not thought death had undone so many.   
Sighs, short and infrequent, were exhaled,   
And each man fixed his eyes before his feet.
Flowed up the hill and down King William Street,   
To where Saint Mary Woolnoth kept the hours   
With a dead sound on the final stroke of nine.   
There I saw one I knew, and stopped him, crying 'Stetson!   
'You who were with me in the ships at Mylae!
'That corpse you planted last year in your garden,   
'Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?   
'Or has the sudden frost disturbed its bed?   
'Oh keep the Dog far hence, that's friend to men,   
'Or with his nails he'll dig it up again!
'You! hypocrite lecteur!—mon semblable,—mon frère!'
[/spoiler]

ow_tiobe_sb
Phantom Bunburyist and Fop o' th' Morning

Cardmaster

Won't someone please let this thread go to IT'S grave??


^_^ ;)


Raptor

We can't let this thread die.  It's the PRINCIPAL of the thing.

yell0w_lantern

Down with homonym humor!  :thumbdown:

djfredski

Let it die. :( :( :(

Stop hateing! :banghead: :(

thalaw2


GogglesPizanno


Gremlin


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