Recidivist

I would have been an undrafted free agent invitee to any of the pro teams that scouted D-2 football in the SE US. I wouldn't have made the 48 man roster, but would have been retained on the practice squad. Due to the unfortunate injury of another teammate, I would be called up to serve as a gunner on all of the punt and kick coverage units. By late season, I would be seeing serious action in nickel and dime coverage packages. In the following off-season, I will have been retained due to free agency defections, my low asking price, and a coach's hunch that this skinny white kid from the mean streets of Fort Lauderdale could make a difference. In my second season, I will have proved my coach to be sagacious, by stepping up to the challenge of serving initially as the primary nickel corner, and then again due to the fateful injury of another teammate, be pressed into duty as starting weakside cornerback. After proving myself to be a serviceable and at times spectacular cover corner, a bidding war would ensue prior to my third season. Out of loyalty and sentimentality to the team and coach that gave me a shot, I would accept a multi-year deal for less upfront money, but untold fortunes in performance bonuses. This contract would be negotiated by Master P - I would be initially satisfied because he garnered the one concession I truly coveted - the right to return all kicks and punts. The third season would start disastrously due to a 4 game suspension for a repeated violation of the league's substance abuse policy (the previous violations were undisclosed). Seemingly undaunted, I would appear at the start of game 5 and promptly fumble the opening kickoff. Later, I would be torched for consecutive touchdowns when biting on double-moves & pump fakes. Down 20 points and dejected, I would remove myself from the game leaving only 10 defenders on the field and leading to another score by the opponent. In response to the jeering fans, I would carelessly throw my helmet into the stands, resulting in the critical injury of a young boy who was coincidentally wearing my jersey. Thereafter, I would be ignominiously cut via a one sentence letter from the team so stating - no press conference nor fanfare. My meager wealth would be stripped via settlements with the boy I injured with my helmet, paternity lawsuits (which DNA tests would later show to be shams) and a six-figure personal injury settlement with a transvestite stripper. My last known whereabouts would be serving as Master P's personal assistant - shining rims and rolling blounts.

Never charged, indicted nor convicted (as of this AM) But come on, if you are going to engage in jock-sniffing manlove, at least spell the dude's name right for Christ's sake. I mean, I'm assuming his family (mom, dad, or other relative) made sure the birth certificate ended up with that unique spelling. Have some respect.

Cool. I maybe renting a car and driving out west if circumstances require I vacate the jurisdicition . . . . all the Coors Light and pizza is on me provided I can indefinitely crash on your floor.

Dude, I'm not Catholic, but I am totally down with the IRA - more than I should attest to I'm not down with grungy-asss hippy-chicks who want to save the world one lab rat at a time. If you saw this chick, you'd have rather stayed home and beat off to internet pron . . . or not . . . to each his own. And what's with the focking Coors Light???? I gotta drink a twelve of them just to get back to 0.00 I'm going to the freezer right now and doing a shot of frozen stoli for you and I (while my focktard cat has totally knocked off the mousepad and mouse from my desk three separate times since I started writing this).

I am still You are a focking nut!!! My buddy Arthur has not signed the necessary release/waiver forms necessary to transmit his image over the internet. I did encourage hime by grasping his scruff and telling him those two (2) faggity cats and their questionable owner were taunting him. He implored I reply with song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mdm3qWgp5N0

Okay, I owe you the respect of an honest review of each video. Vid 1: I don't know which made me laugh harder a) the sight of your sandaled foot your audible on-screen direction of the bunny - "C'mon, do something!" or c) the fact you had incompatible species on the set together Vid 2: My kitty Arthur told me all I needed to know with this one as he came bounding into the room once he heard your kitties brawling - I'm pretty sure he said something along the lines of being able to take either of those pusssy mofos, singularly or in tandem Also, props for the outro shoutout to the Geek Club. Finally, I can vouch that both these vids were produced by SUX as I recognize his voice from the narration of both Vids

Duly noted kind Sir. I appreciate your sentiments about the capacity of animals to express unconditional love (a quality most human beings lack). I actually knew and hung with this eco-terrorist chick who was an Irish National (c. 2002). When I say hung with her I don"t mean I shared her politics, but our social circles intersected (not saying I banged her either, as I would have passed on that). Anyway, she was brought up on federal charges for breaking into a medical testing lab and she got deported (but not after getting the herp from another buddy of mine). I'll try and find a link as it was widely reported down here. Be well my brother

Awesome replies SUX & Saint. So you know exactly what I'm talking about. Too bad you didn't catch Copper on video - that'd been worth $10k if Bob Saget was still around.

I suspect there is some prurient element with your first vid post. I can totally relate to the second vid, if you've seen my most recent thread starting.

Precisely - it's not speed, it's speed differential which creates a safety issue. If I am not mistaken, the Autobahn has lane assignments based on km/h?

Genius - "bored" and "unemployed" almost rhyme if you sing with a drawl. I'll split the royalties with you. I already have 3 chords picked out and the first verse written. And yo, if you think country music sucks, I have a few listening suggestions to change your mind. Serious inquiries only.

Yes, he is. You owe him the respect of spelling his name correctly "Darrelle" And you call your self a Jets fan?

In FL, that contract would not be enforceable for numerous reasons, not the least of which is the illicit consideration used to consummate the bargain. That said, I say you got one over on your friend (provided it was some krypto and not some shittty brown Mex weed or Jamaican pressed bud)

I wasn't ticketed or even stopped, but as far as sheer reckless speeding goes, my worst offense was in May of 2007. It was early on a Sunday morning, no traffic - only orange groves, tomato fields and swamp lands. I set the cruise control to 140 and covered almost 50 miles in less than 20 minutes. This was on a two-lane road (SR-70) between Arcadia and Okeechobee,FL. The car has an LS-2 engine, suffice it to say. Plus I had radar/laser detector on and a knowledge of the immediate area in case a pursuit were to have occurred. I slowed down to 100 or so as I went past the DeSoto County Correctional Facility. Don't ask what I had for breakfast that morning

Although the ESPYs are about as farcical as any award show out there, Jimmy V lent them more dignity and credibility than anyone ever will. Good call.

Slash & Duff drunkenly accepting an American Music Award in 1990: A possibly even more focked up Mickey Rourke accepting an Independent Spirit Award in 2009: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=og3tN7P6oKI...feature=related Most have probably seen the first, but the second is worth watching as Rourke seems to be a true-blue friend.

2000 VMAs: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wIu0LpdS4XE...feature=related I only hope that I could conduct myself with such aplomb if invited to such a prestegious awards show.

I'm part Injun (1/8 Creek blooded) so perhaps I'll be seen as a kemosabe. I'm more worried about the cops showing up at my door.

I always used to get the Street&Smith's NFL Preview magazine as a kid and memorize everyone's roster and vital stats - that's why I loved Harold Carmichael from the Eagles - they didn"t utilize him nearly enough in the redzone. Nonetheless, I'm cool with letting KSB run the point as long as his sac holds up.

As Ed McMahon would say, "Your sir, are correct!!!"

Lexapro was the first thing they put me on - I might as well have eaten a Tic-tac instead. They upped me to Seroquell, Tegretol and finally lithium. Each of those made me feel tranquilized and impotent - literally, as I did not wake up with my usual morning hard-on the size of Alaska (ok, perhaps Rhode Island is more appropriate). I feel much better under my own regimen.

Mayan handjob did nothing other than make me discernibly turgid. All my loot and contraband was in my backpack my buddy was holding for me. I went home to my wife - I should have never come back. I'm not a rockstar, I just have perfect pitch, can keep time better than a swiss timepiece and can play anything with strings. If I listened to you I'd still be paying her bills, but thanks for the suggestions

Awesome - that's 40% of the starting five. Isn't JT like 6'8" or something? We get him and you've got your ten assists right there. You got the Timmy Hardaway killer crossover too? If so, this would be romp. We wouldn't even need to practice ("PRACTICE?!?!?!?!??") - just stretch and shoot around for 15 minutes or so and smoke a doobie or three. RAIN!!!

Wow . . . I thought I lived in the pits of depravity . . . may the Lord have mercy on your souls.

Motion seconded. Also, would you rather not see another dude's johnson (softcore) or do you need to see penetration/lips around a throbbing member/ejaculation to get off?