phillybear

Good morning, Geeks. Fock Off!! Seriously. :furious: Somehow, FFT still exists. An alternate reality where mouth breathing lunkheads have never heard of reddit. Just duckduckgo it. Not Google; they can go suck their Chinese overlords coronaAIDSvirus d!cks. I miss my dead gay Voltaire and titans. So, what is still the same? I loathe this stupid politically correct world. It’s getting so you can’t make rape jokes anymore around high falutin, civilized people. Oh, look at how hoity toity they are, with their fancy dishwashers, vacations in luxurious Wichita, and not having diabetes. Go “woke”, get AIDS. Just the other day, some broad pushed me off from being on top of her and ran off yelling “Rape! Rape!” I ran after her and yelled even louder, “Lady, challenge accepted!!” I can relate, as a rape survivor. I’ve committed 38 of them, and I’m still surviving…staying out of jail. Hey, I am kind hearted at times. When I kicked a couple of slits, those clinging-to-life, dirty, filthy, filthy, unclean wh0res, out of the car door in the general direction of the women’s shelter, I slowed down to lessen their tumble. A little. I had to, as I switched gears and backed the car over their misshapen heads. Were they misshaped 5 minutes before? Probably. What, you expected me to let them live? Pfft. They’re women. Have we met before? I’m still surprised how often the pick-up line “I’m going to kill you, but not until the third date” works. Three. One. Whatever. Counting is for suckers. And wrestling referees. AEDub. If I’m clandestinely (I said “c”lan :furious:) lounging in the bushes outside her window at 1:43 AM, that is considered a legitimate date, dagnabit. If the conversation doesn’t work, no big whoop, dogsies, you’ve already dosed their beverage. With antifreeze. It’s not easy siphoning that sh!t out of my car, but it’s not like they self the stuff in convenient, portable containers on the shelves of stores. My tongue went numb in 1997. In a few minutes, I will be carving words into their torso with a rusty skew chisel or a My Pillow. Soft fill, my ass. Hey, nobody quote that last sentence. Carving some type of motivational message. “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggone it, people like me. Now I feel good enough to fock my mother!!” “Your.” “Your mother.” My Chemical Romance is not just a band, but also a way of life. “I am the One who knocks”…on Cardi B’s hotel room, then I AM the one who drugs and robs HER. Just robs. Trust me, I’m not sticking my manly meat treat into the roiling fish bucket of The Uncivilized One. Jumping Jehosaphat!! MDC is probably around somewhere, scurrying around like a cockroach dropped on top of a sizzling sausage grill. That hissing, mascara wearing, coffee fetching assistant to the assistant secretary famously lost a popularity contest to the events of 9/11. I have to assume he is still living in a burned out, wheeless wheelbarrow behind the methadone clinic in his fock neighborhood. BEEP. BEEP. Here comes the Faildozer. Speaking of oozing, seeping sores, NewbieJr. He thinks, the “J” stands for Jenius. That vigorously lapping cvm from his palm like a cat attacking a bouillabaisee spill on the floor, mango colored, lispy ‘mo. Newbie has a Joker mouth, from too many bl0wjobs. What is 14” long and hangs between a man’s legs? NewbieJr’s tie. He spends all day walking around with a post it note on his top lip with the words “sperm bank”. It’s the same note I slapped on top of his had to have been adopted daughter’s assh0le many a time. Who has two thumbs and swore that some day he would take a dump on your grave? This guy. Jeffrey Epstein didn’t kill himself. He most definitely would have if he spent time reading GiantsFan’s midnight madness frozen dinner reviews. Those two would have been BFF’s, simply the best child touching, pink sword fighting of friends. Kutulu, I’m not saying he’s savagely moronic, but when he does the peanut butter trick with his dog, he puts the peanut butter on the dog’s d!ck . Quick, someone explain the quip to that waterhead. drobeski has neuropathy of the brain and watches returd porn for helpful tips. SUX has spent the past 7 years making disgusting eggs, getting mushroom stamped by his roommate after he passes out from box wine and hard seltzer, and randomly dialing phone numbers in the hope someday I will pick up. Sad. Edjr…you know, I really can’t remember anything about him. Something, something butt plug? 100,000 posts, and I got nothing. Fortunately, he is required by law to introduce himself to all of his neighbors, so at least he’ll be noticed for something. He likely has a baby face, which he keeps in a Ziploc bag in his freezer. Oh, wait, that’s probably me. I’m sure wiffleball has been making himself popular around here. He hasn’t has any friends since the age of 5, which makes him a Sandy Hook survivor. By all probability, Sho Nuff and IGotWorms have been blown up to smithereens from their suicide vests. Not that they were wearing them. They were just standing too close to the emus they tricked into wearing them. Why emus? Why not? I’ve seen undisputed evidence as presented by Adam Schiff that emus wear sunglasses and sell auto insurance. WUT! WUT! HUMP DAY! If I forgot anyone, I just ran out of time for typing. In summation, all of you are half as funny as crib death. That is not sarcasm. Watching weeping parents drag a crib to the sidewalk on trash day is a real hoot. Obama still needs to go drown in a puddle of AIDS. The media said the other day that Kobe Bryant passed. Fake News. Kobe has never, ever passed. Rust in p!ss. Tim Dillon’s videos of impersonating Meghan McCain are tremendous comedy gold. And, now, :looksatwatch:, I got a thing.

FOCK OFF!! Seriously. :angry: The alarm clock rings. Since I never bother to turn it off, the alarm clock technically never stops ringing. I roll off my mattress and plummet to the floor. As luck would have it, my erection broke my fall. !!YARPLEJTRPS4!! Ludicrous, unyielding pain. Watching the Oscars type of pain. I think I broke my retarted d!ck. Also, I need to do something about this mysterious constant ringing in my ears when I’m home. The day has mercilessly lurched forward into motion. I open a window and bellow “SHUT THE FOCK UP!!” to no one in particular, sometimes referred to as my sleeping neighbors. That felt…what would be the opposite of cathartic…probably watching a “women try to talk about sports on ESPN” marathon. No. That’s not it. Maybe 3 straight hours of nothing but My Pillow commercials. I’m Mike Lindell. I was a Navy Seal. I was the governor of Minnesota. Buy my pillow. It took me two years to learn how to stuff a pillow and I’m bragging about it. A sparrow chirped back at me. Stupid sparrow. I’ll beat you like a 5 year old Shriner kid in a wheelchair trying to sell me a blanket. Yeah, you think you’re so tough, Shriners, with your fez hats and missing limbs. I’ll give you something to really cry about. Like a recording of the autobiography of Gwenyth Paltrow. It is 4:00 AM. I pound my head into a wall for about 10 minutes, regain some consciousness, and head to the bathroom, managing to avoid most of the traps I set for myself the night before. This is more challenging than you would expect since I usually set them while I’m falling down drunk. Falling down drunk into a bear trap d1ck first is not something you think about before pouring the first drink, but bear traps can’t be choosers. For breakfast, I consume a handful of kitty litter while contemplating that actually owning a cat would be easier than stealing cat sh!t from my neighbors, my daily lump of poison, and a couple of kidney stones because I have always wondered what it would feel like to pass them through twice. I am out of coffee, so I chew on a Gain detergent pod. Looks and tastes just like candy I had when I was a kid. I still wonder to this day if my parents were trying to murder me. I meticulously glue small rocks to the insides of my shoes and give my clip-on tie a quick once over. Exiting my front door, I take the next 5 minutes to shake my fist at the sky and pledge to get my revenge on the sun. That unholy, c0ck slime basterd ball of sh!t. I will end you a thousand times over. As I start to limp to work, I barely notice that the sun hasn’t risen yet. It is 5:00 AM. While waiting on the train platform for my decidedly not luxurious ride amongst the homeless, bedbugs, homeless bedbugs, strewn about dry chicken bones, and the most vile, wretched evil of them all, school children, a human came wandering by and began to talk at me. Why thoust thou interrupt my next gambit in framing my co-worker for murder. I’ve been following him around on his Tinder dates, and after he kisses his date goodnight and goes home without any nookie, I kill the b1tch. We are up to lucky number 8. Sooner or later the FBI will crucify that coffee slurping hump and drag his ass to jail. I have dibs on his cubicle. Yet, I am currently confronted with this flesh colored humanoid. My curiosity piqued as to why this thing continues to flap its gums while I do not show any reaction nor have made eye contact nor have I even blinked in the past 2 minutes. I removed my headphones to hear what this meat sack with the breath of used tampons that have been fished out of trash cans and sucked dry was blathering on about. “…in the right direction?” “Can you repeat that?” “I was asking if this train will take me in the right direction?” “Which way are you headed?” “Northbound” “Oh. Northbound. Like this sign? Directly behind me? That says “Northbound”? In big, bright, orange letters. You said you want to go “North”? “Bound?” “Yes” “Well, you were right to ask since you are in the wrong place. You want to catch the train over there on the other side of the tracks, where the big, bright, orange letters say “Southbound”. Make sure you grab an express train. They are fast and won’t make any stops for a while.” “Thanks.” As that meat thing was walking away, I felt regret. What was I thinking? That’s just not who I am as a person. I need to make this right. I caught up with the meat popsicle rather quickly. “Sorry, buddy. I made a mistake. This actually is the very spot where you catch the Northbound train.” I then pushed him onto the tracks as the Northbound was arriving. It is 6:00 AM.

The Seahawks chatter on the Mange Bored is decent.

How many people around here are your Facebook buddies? Me? Zero. #FACE Facebook. Grown men.

This is a time waster site that used to be full of colorful characters and loose cannons. Today, blandness abounds. Are you actually pushing for a "Everything is Awesome" Lego movie scenario, where homogeneity reigns supreme? Then, what's the focking point? It's like assh0le parents and school officials that stuff pills down kids' mouths to stifle their creativity so that they become docile and uninteresting.

Delusional. It's appropos in some sick and twisted way. That means appropriate, Newbie. The devolution of this Geek Bored. A couple of years ago, there was a big push for GiantsFan to win Geek of the Year. He finished very high in votes, almost won. The Geeks were trying to give him a lifetime achievement award, in a way. I thought it was a noble deed, a nice touch, something unusual around here. Fast forward to today, and the same exact people are trying to get him banned on a daily basis. What changed? Well, for people that have been around for years and years, it sure wasn't GiantsFan. He is remarkable in his consistency. So, again, what changed? That means people like you, Newbie.

Fox News picks and chooses who they like. They've been anti-Trump across the board from the start. That's why they tried to sabotage Trump at the debate with deliberate personal attacks, while lobbing softballs to their preferred candidates, and ignored the rest of the debaters. Trump should be pissed at them. Fox News constantly ignored Ron Paul's presidential runs, and are ignoring Rand Paul this time around as well. The Pauls get far more love from MSNBC and CNN, and coverage, than Fox News.

Worthless poster. Hypocrite. Bored suicide. All related to a poster's content. Not personal attacks. "sickly, fat, poor, womanless bastard like yourself". Personal attacks and woefully inaccurate. SHAME. *DING. DING.* SHAME. *DING. DING.* WH0RE. SHAME *DING. DING.*

Oooooh. A personal attack. If I were following the social justice mob mentality around here, the protocol would be to report you. I should feel offended. Bunch of fickle focking focktards. Never grasp the macro view.

You are the most worthless poster at this site and easily the biggest hypocrite. If you committed bored suicide, you would brighten many people's day.

This bored has turned into a politically correct, whiny cesspool of sissies. Mike should suspend everybody other than GF for a month. Might increase the traffic to double digits at any given time. Anybody clicking on "report" for any reason deserves finger cancer.

No crow to be eaten. I had posted that Frank Clark was a consensus 6th round choice about a week prior to the draft, but he had risen somewhat leading up to it, into the 4th round range. I went so far as to mock draft him for the Seahawks in the 4th round. He was considered a lower pick due to his off field issues. I felt he went a bit high to the Seahawks, but we won't really know if anybody else was willing to take him so high. While Lockett had an impact on special teams, he had zero catchers for zero yards on offense. Everybody was celebrating what Lockett was going to bring to the offense while I was the lone wet blanket. Thus far, I have not been wrong. And the fact that we gave up so many picks for a specialist still makes it a bad trade and automatically lowers the overall draft grade. Nobody else from the past draft is doing anything. If none of the offensive linemen work out, which is a real possibility, then this last draft is only a little better than the past two previous years of sh!t drafts. If the team looks bad vs the Chiefs, there is real room for concern.

I went back and reread some draft stuff. I was amazed that I wasn't as hyper critical as usual and gave our draft a C-. I must not have been feeling like myself that weekend. I seemed to be OK with Clark the player, just questioned taking him that early considering how teams tend to shy away from off field issue players in the draft and felt we could have waited a bit on him. But, he seems like he might be a player. Good. I killed the Lockett trade, giving up so many picks for a special teams player. I never, not once, questioned his ability to perform on special teams. I was mad at giving up the draft capital and questioned his ability to contribute on offense as an impact player. I'm not eating crow for that; I stand by those observations. But the guy looked good on returns, real good. Hope he keeps it up.

Hot steaming garbage. The Seahawks looked like pure and utter sh!t. Brock Stinkin' Osweiler picked them apart all night. I had flashbacks to 2010. The 3rd down defense was non existent, just giving up chunks of yards over and over again. The offensive line was a sieve; the starters were abused, the 2nd string was abused, the 3rd string was beaten like Ray Rice's wife. Coaches running into refs on the side line. Tarvaris Jackson and Chris Matthews hurt. Girl's Name still miraculously has a roster spot today. Holy Toledo. After conceding the effort and talent available was poor, let's try to find some positives. T Jax and Chris Matthews won't miss significant time and may both be back in 2 to 3 weeks. Jackson has a high ankle sprain that looked much worse. Matthews has a hurt shoulder. Frank Clark was all over the field and the defensive line as a whole applied good pressure and looked like they may be a strength like the line of Super Bowl winning year. Tyler Lockett looked extremely good returning the ball. Please don't use Lockett on offense that much, because the risk of injury would increase. Need him to play special teams. In the big picture, I didn't disagree with the talent of these players when drafted; just where they were drafted, maybe a bit early. Both seemed like they can make an impact this year, and that's all you can really ask. After Clark and Lockett, uh, um, I had trouble really feeling good about much else. Maybe I was downing too many rum and limes. Stupid me even bet on the Hawks. I'm a horse's ass. The days of dominating preseason games, especially at home, have come crashing to an end.

First of all, Giants Fan, keep up the good work. Your posts are an integral part of this site. Bunch of new posters that imagine they know it all just don't get it. Second of all, anybody that clicked the report button, you are human garbage. Fock off. Seriously.