Highest Reputation Content

Sorry, crow and eggs isn't good enough for me. Search feature FTW.

Pats are winning the Super Bowl.

Suck on it.

Brady is due for a big game.

Theres too much at stake for him to lose. A win gives him more post season wins than Montana, 4 rings like Bradshaw and Montana, sets the table for an NFL record 5 rings and ends the Brady has lost his mojo talk.

Hell be wearing his 4th ring the next time Rex sees him.

Pucker up Fatboy.

Goodell owes Krafty for ending the lock out. The Pats have had all the calls go their way the entire season. BB had to deliberately lose 3 games so folks wouldnt get suspicious. So far it looks good.

This ones already in the books folks. Pats win. Get the champagne ready.

Brady got right in Rays Rays face on a 1st down run. Then he sold out on the 4th and goal TD. Lewis speared him in the back.

Hes going to b slap the Giants on Sunday.

Pats are going to win.

Pats will beat the Gmen.

Outdoing even himself:

The Giants are walking around like theyve already won the game.

The Giants think they have this game already won.

And, of course, the granddaddy of 'em all:

Im positive the Pats will win it all. Brady is on a mission.

Now go get your ******* shinebox.

I was a safety in high school. Ol' number 23. That's right. Thought about playin' college but, you know, Uncle Sam had other ideas. Ended up in the Navy. But...ah, what the Hell. Japanese submarine slammed two torpedoes into our side, chief. It was comin' back, from the island of Tinian to Laytee, just delivered the bomb. The Hiroshima bomb. Eleven hundred men went into the water. Vessel went down in twelve minutes. Didn't see the first shark for about a half an hour. Tiger. Thirteen footer. You know how you know that when you're in the water, chief? You tell by lookin' from the dorsal to the tail. What we didn't know... was our bomb mission had been so secret, no distress signal had been sent. Huh huh. They didn't even list us overdue for a week. Very first light, chief. The sharks come cruisin'. So we formed ourselves into tight groups. You know it's... kinda like ol' squares in battle like a, you see on a calendar, like the battle of Waterloo. And the idea was, the shark comes to the nearest man and that man, he'd start poundin' and hollerin' and screamin' and sometimes the shark would go away. Sometimes he wouldn't go away. Sometimes that shark, he looks right into you. Right into your eyes. You know the thing about a shark, he's got...lifeless eyes, black eyes, like a doll's eye. When he comes at ya, doesn't seem to be livin'. Until he bites ya and those black eyes roll over white. And then, ah then you hear that terrible high pitch screamin' and the ocean turns red and spite of all the poundin' and the hollerin' they all come in and rip you to pieces.
Y'know by the end of that first dawn, lost a hundred men! I don't know how many sharks, maybe a thousand! I don't know how many men, they averaged six an hour. On Thursday mornin' chief, I bumped into a friend of mine, Herbie Robinson from Cleveland. Baseball player, boson's mate. I thought he was asleep, reached over to wake him up. Bobbed up and down in the water, just like a kinda top. Up ended. Well... he'd been bitten in half below the waist. Noon the fifth day, Mr. Hooper, a Lockheed Ventura saw us, he swung in low and he saw us. He's a young pilot, a lot younger than Mr. Hooper, anyway he saw us and come in low. And three hours later a big fat PBY comes down and start to pick us up. You know that was the time I was most frightened? Waitin' for my turn. I'll never put on a lifejacket again. So, eleven hundred men went in the water, three hundred and sixteen men come out, the sharks took the rest, June the 29, 1945. Anyway, we delivered the bomb.

Well guys after being out of work for 3 years at my wits end and many dissapointments I finally landed a job at the US Treasury... Bureau of Engraving and Printing. Ive been wanting to work at BEP for many years but its a tough position to get I was up aganist 385 applicants for thre job. This is about as good as it gets in the printing industry so Im really happy right now and I just wanted to share this with you guys its been a rough 3 years thank God my wife has a good job and was able to carry the bills while I bummed out on JN heh.

I will be running a Simultan Press and printing parts of the fronts and backs of all US Currency. Only 2 plants print the money, one located in DC and one in Fort Worth Texas.

"Well lovely, juuust lovely.  You simpletons are too dense to understand the brilliance of my posts and for that, I'm being demonized.  If you'd bother to look back you'll see that I've not only shed light on certain situations, but have all but given you multiple anti-town suspects".

"dude...  shut up".

"No I won't shut up you mouth-breathing faggot.  I've given the town invaluable information by poking and prodding multiple players.  They've tried to case me but I've verbally taken their legs out from under them with salient point after salient point.  If everyone would only listen to the absence of logic from those who question me, you'd see that I'm single-highhandedly winning this thing for the town.  See there's a few things you have to understand the first of which is that I'm smarter than you.  That's not ego, that's fact.  As I've shown by the amount of information I've been able to elicit playing react to the Ape".

"omg, please put a sock in it".

"Ah yes.  Nothing to counter my salient points with so instead of engaging in debate, you answer with slanderous posts meant to undermine my cases.  This is the type of muddying of the waters that scum teams crave.  They all want to shut me up to try and save themselves.  Well guess what?  I don't care.  I will not loosen my grip on scum until I've identified each one.  If that takes me going through each and every one of you, so be it.  They don't call me the purveyor of the salient point for nothing.  Look at this scrapper for example.  I spoon fed him posts designed to trap him into slipping and he fell for it hook, line, and sinker...  I've emasculated him with logic.  I'm having the type of game that will go down in mafia lore.  When newbies ask on message boards how to play mafia, there will be a link to this game thread with the simple instruction: read the Apes posts".

*crowd shouts in unison*

"STFU"!!!!!!!!!!


"hehhehe, I say, HE HE HE.  Pshaw you nincompoops.  I unilaterally reject your admonishments.  They only lead me to believe I'm kicking the right tires.  If my salient points offend your gentle sensibilities, that's your fault...  This whole exchange reminds me of a debate I had in college... I...."

*he continues to drone on.  a dull murmur - similar to the person on the other end of the phone with Charlie Brown -can be heard in the background as the town discusses their next move*


"Ok so what do you guys think.  I can't take this anymore".

"Death by castration I say"

"Aye.  Time to extinguish this flamer".

*******

JiF was the first to strike.  He ran in swinging an industrial sized chain and smacked the Ape across the ass.

"WHO DID THAT?!" exclaimed the Ape.  "Who dares challenge me"?!?!?

Christine was next to act.  She picked up the nearest brick she could find and whipped it directly into the Apes groin....  ripping off his balls in the process.

"OWWWWWW!!  WHAT THE FU..."

It was 80s turn..  he chose a more conventional method of attack with a drop kick to the Apes fragile back.

"OMG WHY"!!!

Crusher came wobbling in and promptly belly bounced the Ape into a brick wall.

Smash had seen enough.  He pulled a slingshot out of his trench coat and launched a metal ball directly into the Apes left eye.

"PLEASE.. WAIT... SALIENT"

Tinas turn.  She noticed the Ape was hobbled, but still upright.  She came in with a samurai sword she purchased off Ebay and lopped off both of his legs.

"MY LEGS!!  MY BALLS!!  MY EYE!!"

Nolder was not going to be outdone.  He was wearing the helmet that was prescribed for him so he ran in and started a vicious series of headbutts to the Apes face, chest, and penis

JVoR had been patiently waiting for his turn..  He identified a spot that hadn't been attacked yet.  He ran up with a rusty knife he was carrying and slowly scalped the Ape.

"MY HAIR!!  NOT MY HAIR"

The Ape was barely breathing..  all it would take is one more blow.

BG stopped laughing in time to finish him off.  For some reason he had arrived on a riding lawn mower.  He put it into first and slowly ran over what was left of the Ape, starting at his feet.

"bbbuutt.. . sssalliency"...


....


Ape, (aka Richard Head, ambitious SK) is DEAD!!

I'm in staten island. Our house is on the south shore 2 blocks from the ocean but we are 52 feet above sea level so no water damage, just a bunch of trees down. We lost power Sunday and just got it back yesterday. Thankfully I had some generators and directv for my tailgatejoe setup so we had tv and refrigerators kept going the whole time.

Yesterday when power came on I shared my generators and now that my family is ok I went today and bought 1,000 hot dogs and 100lbs of polish sausage. Dropped about 900 bucks. Going to take the tailgate trailer to one of the hard hit areas tomorrow on staten island and set up, show the football games and cook and give away the food to all the displaced and those without power.

Wow just wow, so its ok to give neg reps to someone for just speaking the truth now. Give me a break!

I guess I will get neg repped for this.....

Way to take all the fun out of it.

Our mascot resigned last week after the quarterback ran into his guard's ass, face first, on national television.

Tom Shane.

1.  Negative reputation is an opinion.  If somebody is of the opinion that your post is bad, whether it's for content, spelling or tone they are free to exercise the option.
2. It is bad form to whine about negative reputation.  Just like the mod lounge, take it like a man.
3. In your case it is more likely based upon the use of piss poor puns.

**** the Patsies
An Original Poem by B.T. Jetsfan

**** the Patsies. **** 'em all
**** their fans, both big and small

**** 'em 'til they all turn blue
**** the Flying Elvis, too

**** that ****ing Belichick
That ****er really makes me sick

**** Tom Brady right to hell
While he's there, I'll **** Giselle

**** the Patsies.

omg...he's a lesbian.

We are getting ready for the season so there will be a lot of changes this week.  Just made the first change now.  It is pretty cool I put in an automated reputation process.  You can do a rep auto-reply.

Leave me a rep and then check yours to see what I am talking about.  Thanks and stand by for the other great features coming soon.

Wow just wow, so its ok to give neg reps to someone for just speaking the truth now. Give me a break!

I guess I will get neg repped for this.....

Wow just wow, so its ok to give neg reps to someone for just speaking the truth now. Give me a break!

I guess I will get neg repped for this.....

no but it is entirely appropriate to give neg rep to people who complain about neg rep. kind of a conundrum, right?

And you have so much in common with John Lennon

The question was asked if I would take a discount for my current employer

I play guitar, my name is John, and I dig Asian chicks. I suspect that puts me way ahead in this game.

Just grab your sack, and drive to the stadium and go to the game

This is my game day experience:

10:00-10:17 AM: Get in car, fill tank ($44), buy road snacks ($9).

10:17-11:00 AM: Drive south, cross George Washington Bridge, start wait in turnpike traffic.

11:00-11:50: Endure 50 minutes of traffic to travel remaining five miles.

11:50 AM-12:23 PM: Wait in line to pay $50 to park.

12:23-1:00 PM: Look for parking spot far enough away from Jagermeister-crippled bros desperate to bounce a football off of, then piss on my car.

1:00-1:26: Make the three mile walk from non-premium parking area to entry of giant air-conditioning unit/Cell Block D-inspired stadium.

1:26-1:35: Pay $48 for two non-carbonated warm beers and cold hot dog. Cringe at sight of working fireplaces in luxury boxes populated by JP Morgan execs who think Joe Willie Namath was the name of the guy who killed John Lennon.

1:35-1:45 PM: Climb stairs to seats, undoubtedly next to entitled daddy's-boy wearing a brand-new Santonio Holmes jersey, who smells like weed and Rumplemintz and vomit.

1:45-1:48: Having missed eight minutes of game action, quickly determine that I missed four Mark Sanchez incompletions. Regardless, Jets' PA announcer screams "And that will be a Jets...," and some in the crowd celebrate a FIRST DOWN, because that's what title contenders do.

1:48-1:49 PM: Listen to drunk, stoned entitled daddy's-boy next to me declare that if he hears anyone booing Mark Sanchez, he's gonna "kill 'em yo."

1:49-1:50 PM: Attempt to determine what the foreign solid entity that I just swallowed while sipping my $12 beer was. Convince myself it's a peanut shell.

1:50:36-1:50:48 PM: Pray it was a peanut shell.

1:51-1:56 PM: Entitled daddy's boy begins booing Sanchez.

1:57 PM-1:58 PM: Begin process of pretending I don't have to piss.

1:59-2:06 PM: Focus on game action. Wonder what Matt Slauson thinks he's doing out there. Wonder if Mark Sanchez blocks out sounds of booing by reminding himself that he banged some really hot chicks recently. Wonder why Shonn Greene acts like he stepped on a land mine after every run. Reminisce about the glory days of the Glenn Foley Era.

2:07-2:12 PM: Consider to what extreme the escalating hostilities between the entitled daddy's boy and the angry Hispanic Sanchez fan seated behind me will reach.

2:12-2:13 PM: Entitled daddy's boy uses the words "faggot mexican" to describe Sanchez.  Elect to find bathroom.

2:13-2:55 PM: Find bathroom, wait in line, bottleneck at door, ponder how a sports arena installs bathrooms containing only three urinals. Piss. Bottleneck at exit door.

2:56-3:17 PM: Need to buy food product to get the taste of uncarbonated beer out of my mouth. Decide on pretzel ($6). Pretzel is frozen and wet. Paradox?

3:18-4:12 PM: Find seat, watch rest of game, stadium empties, entitled daddy's boy bleeding from right eye. Angry Hispanic Fan escorted out. Wonder why Tebow is fist-pumping after a three-yard gain. Consider that a portion of Jets fanbase will consider this particular Jets loss "no big deal" because "the Bills lost, too." Gain new understanding as to why Jets' business model succeeds despite lack of success. Paradox?

4:13-5:23 PM: Stare at line for bottlenecked elevator. Gain new understanding as to why every posited zombie apocalypse scenario begins with 99.7% of human race perishing within first 12 hours. Make trek across parking lot. Fans puking behind cars, throwing footballs at each other, cursing Parcells. Get to car, admire football-shaped dent in door; pool of piss around front tire.

5:24-6:17 PM: Wait in giant traffic melange to get on turnpike. Listen to postgame show. Bob Wischusen declares that loss, really, was a win. Listen to Rex consciously attempt to sound glum. Listen to Sanchez describe how well he played on the 48% of plays in which he completed a pass.

6:18-8:34 PM: Drive home. Wonder what I was thinking. Curse life.

  Okay, Jets fans.  Gloat time for you because my team really laid an egg, but I said I'd still be here afterward, and so, here I am.   I am going to chalk this one up to the Bills being ...

• over-confident
• over-excited
• over-hyped
• snake-bit

All of the above or maybe none of the above.   Weird things sometimes happen on Opening Day, so that's what I'm going with.   I don't think anybody thought the score would be like this.

The pissiest part of this entire day was that one of my brothers organized an impromptu "firewood party" at the old family farm where assorted family members who want some split firewood for their homes or camps come on out, and invest some sweat equity in cutting up logs and sending them through the splitter.  We bring libations, food, pals, spouses, kids, dogs, whatever,  get a campfire going, and make a day of it.   We were all there by 10, and the plan was to be done by noon or so we could set up my bro's TV on his cabin porch and have a game party.

I left early so I wouldn't miss the game on HDTV, hence the thread title, a reference to an old country-western song by Deana Carter.   If I'd have stayed, we could at least done some target shooting or something since I gave up on this one when Spiller fumbled that nice pass reception.  

1.1 Isakk Aaitui, NT, Miami Dolphins.

Analysis: With Brian Hoyer still on the board, the Jets surprise everybody and nab another Samoan nose tackle to go along with the three nose tackles already on the roster. Aaitui was raised on papaya, so he's country/inbred strong.

Mel's take: "Hoyer doesn't fit the Jets scheme, because he throws forward passes. Aaitui really fits Rex's scheme, because f*ck offense."

What sucks is that they cost $100 up front, and then they stop you every mile to demand another $100.


OMG BAZINGA