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The Topic That Will Never Die
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MemphisVol
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Ummmm
LadyVol, you do understand the fine line one has to walk between reporting the truth and writing fiction.... that whole "suspension of disbelief" thing?...
I mean, we all know that Gators really know they suck and wish they were Vol fans instead, but we're writing poetry here, and poetry is a lot less believeable than fact to the straights even if it's more true in other ways.
We all, in fact, do know that Gators are secretly Vol lovers rather than Vol haters, but if they admitted that journalism as we know it would collapse.
Please, please, please- though it means you'll be playing along with gators in one sense- just come up with rhymes that brutally mock them in another sense and pretend they aren't mere jealous wannabes.
The fate of American sports journalism in the South depends on your collaboration in this farce.
MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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MemphisVol
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....Gary, wasn't, strictly speaking, a private investigator. [/quote]
...A technician in a gynocologist's office and amateur stalker for some years, Gary preferred to call himself an agent for a privates inspector.
Gary wasn't what you'd strictly call bright, and he thought, given how much legal matters have to do with semantics, that as long as he didn't call himself a private investigator, but merely an agent of a privates investigator, he was safe. Sadly, however, Gary was not a rich man, so he was entirely wrong....
MemphisVol
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...A technician in a gynocologist's office and amateur stalker for some years, Gary preferred to call himself an agent for a privates inspector.
Gary wasn't what you'd strictly call bright, and he thought, given how much legal matters have to do with semantics, that as long as he didn't call himself a private investigator, but merely an agent of a privates investigator, he was safe. Sadly, however, Gary was not a rich man, so he was entirely wrong.... [/quote]
Gary settled himself into the broad bench seats of his '72 Grand Torino as the latest crop of young recruits filed into UF's latest "sorority" house, a bag of take-out on one side, a thermos of cofee on the other, and an empty gallon milk jug for pissing in at the middle.
MemphisVol
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Gary settled himself into the broad bench seats of his '72 Grand Torino as the latest crop of young recruits filed into UF's latest "sorority" house, a bag of take-out on one side, a thermos of cofee on the other, and an empty gallon milk jug for pissing in at the middle. [/quote]
It was business as usual
MemphisVol
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It was business as usual [/quote]
But- and make no mistake Gary knew it- in Florida, the term "Business as Usual" is about as flexible as an 18 year old Catholic virgin on prom night.
So let's just say that when the guys with the shotguns drove up in a cattle truck and began unloading emus and herding them toward the door, Gary wasn't unduly perturbed...
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But- and make no mistake Gary knew it- in Florida, the term "Business as Usual" is about as flexible as an 18 year old Catholic virgin on prom night.
So let's just say that when the guys with the shotguns drove up in a cattle truck and began unloading emus and herding them toward the door, Gary wasn't unduly perturbed... [/quote]
He did, of course, screw the plastic lid down on his gallon piss-jug, stick the keys back in the ignition, pop a won-ton in his mouth, and promptly choke as he attempted to cackle in an appropriately "film noir" manner.
MemphisVol
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He did, of course, screw the plastic lid down on his gallon piss-jug, stick the keys back in the ignition, pop a won-ton in his mouth, and promptly choke as he attempted to cackle in an appropriately "film noir" manner. [/quote]
Hajib, who'd been desperately working to be known as "Lenny" for obvious reasons even before 9-11, saw the emus coming through the front door out of one corner of his eye. Out of the other corner he saw the great flaccid toad which called itself, "Mr. Chamberson" ostentatiously slapping a hundred dollar bill done on the bar out of the other.
Hajib was not a fool. He was, however, a truly exceptional bartender. With one hand he palmed the hundred, with the other he blindly grabbed a bottle of cheap champagne off the back shelf. Before "Mr. Chamberson" could notice what he'd been served- much less register that there were a herd of emus flocking through the front door- Hajib (AKA "Lenny")- was already down on his belly behind the bar and halfway to the emergency exit.
MemphisVol
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Hajib, who'd been desperately working to be known as "Lenny" for obvious reasons even before 9-11, saw the emus coming through the front door out of one corner of his eye. Out of the other corner he saw the great flaccid toad which called itself, "Mr. Chamberson" ostentatiously slapping a hundred dollar bill done on the bar out of the other.
Hajib was not a fool. He was, however, a truly exceptional bartender. With one hand he palmed the hundred, with the other he blindly grabbed a bottle of cheap champagne off the back shelf. Before "Mr. Chamberson" could notice what he'd been served- much less register that there were a herd of emus flocking through the front door- Hajib (AKA "Lenny")- was already down on his belly behind the bar and halfway to the emergency exit. [/quote]
"Mr. Chamberson" was not a fool.
A great honking moron with 2 left feet and a sentient boil which sang "Ave Maria" at inoportune moments could get to be a Florida State Senator, but not a moron. And "Mr. Chamberson" had been a successful Florida State Senator for a long, long time.
Though that didn't make him as quick as the average bartender, it still made him quick enough to notice Lenny (AKA "Hajib" according to the FBI) hit the floor almost the same moment the champagne hit the bar.
"Mr. Chamberson" hadn't lasted as long as he had in politics without learning that, when it came to survival in emergencies, there was no difference between the rich and poor except it was better to be a rich man with a poor one on top of you.
Except of course in floods.
As the herd of emus and the guys with the serious expressions came through the front door, temporarily blinding everybody with a blast of early morning Florida sun, "Mr. Chamberson" made an off-the-cuff decision that this wasn't a flood situation.
Grabbing the bottle of cheap champagne more by middle-aged alchoholic instinct than intention, he vaulted (okay shlepped) himself over the bar just in time to flop clumsily yet somewhat miraculously with his face nose down in "Lenny's" retreating cheeks.
At which point both, in dramatically different physiological and psychological fashions, achieved a state of unconsciousness....
MemphisVol
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"Mr. Chamberson" was not a fool.
A great honking moron with 2 left feet and a sentient boil which sang "Ave Maria" at inoportune moments could get to be a Florida State Senator, but not a moron. And "Mr. Chamberson" had been a successful Florida State Senator for a long, long time.
Though that didn't make him as quick as the average bartender, it still made him quick enough to notice Lenny (AKA "Hajib" according to the FBI) hit the floor almost the same moment the champagne hit the bar.
"Mr. Chamberson" hadn't lasted as long as he had in politics without learning that, when it came to survival in emergencies, there was no difference between the rich and poor except it was better to be a rich man with a poor one on top of you.
Except of course in floods.
As the herd of emus and the guys with the serious expressions came through the front door, temporarily blinding everybody with a blast of early morning Florida sun, "Mr. Chamberson" made an off-the-cuff decision that this wasn't a flood situation.
Grabbing the bottle of cheap champagne more by middle-aged alchoholic instinct than intention, he vaulted (okay shlepped) himself over the bar just in time to flop clumsily yet somewhat miraculously with his face nose down in "Lenny's" retreating cheeks.
At which point both, in dramatically different physiological and psychological fashions, achieved a state of unconsciousness.... [/quote]
Buffy wasn't a bad "girl", no matter what her boyfriend Zookie said.
She had to admit though that he was right- her "horny cheerleader" bit was much better.
From the moment the Gator coaches had herded the latest crop of recruits through the door, she'd had them in the palm of... well their hands. If it was a kind've depressing working kids who were so easily played, at the same time it was a relief working on salary for a change. You might sometimes get more money from drunk businessmen who thought a "layover" at the airport around the corner was a term of art. Still, "Florida Recruit" nights were usually flat-salary, sure-money affairs, and even if you had to sleep with one every now and then you were hardly ever off the line more than a couple of minutes.
In fact, though Buffy hadn't quite mastered it yet, some of the girls claimed that if you timed the booze, lap-dancing, and come-ons right, most Florida recruits would pay you to take them in the back room and pretend you'd had sex- and get them some kleenex fast to swab down their shorts and preserve their reputations.
Buffy had just picked out a couple of likely "easies" (if you can see them blush in a half-lit strip bar, they're easies), when the front door flapped open and she went momentarily blind in the sudden flash of early-morning-outside-an-airport light.
MemphisVol
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Buffy wasn't a bad "girl", no matter what her boyfriend Zookie said.
She had to admit though that he was right- her "horny cheerleader" bit was much better.
From the moment the Gator coaches had herded the latest crop of recruits through the door, she'd had them in the palm of... well their hands. If it was a kind've depressing working kids who were so easily played, at the same time it was a relief working on salary for a change. You might sometimes get more money from drunk businessmen who thought a "layover" at the airport around the corner was a term of art. Still, "Florida Recruit" nights were usually flat-salary, sure-money affairs, and even if you had to sleep with one every now and then you were hardly ever off the line more than a couple of minutes.
In fact, though Buffy hadn't quite mastered it yet, some of the girls claimed that if you timed the booze, lap-dancing, and come-ons right, most Florida recruits would pay you to take them in the back room and pretend you'd had sex- and get them some kleenex fast to swab down their shorts and preserve their reputations.
Buffy had just picked out a couple of likely "easies" (if you can see them blush in a half-lit strip bar, they're easies), when the front door flapped open and she went momentarily blind in the sudden flash of early-morning-outside-an-airport light. [/quote]
The American Emu Association, a large, very responsible, and dedicated group of people committed to raising these animals for both their low-fat, high-protein meat, and for the amazing health benefits which the oil their meat does contain can testify that, "Emus are docile and non-aggressive towards people".
http://www.aea-emu.org/faq.asp
Unfortunately, the American Emu Association has conducted no tests whatsoever upon the conduct of emus, herded enmasse, into a dark strip-club by shotgun toting thugs.
Obviously, given the above oversight in their research program, the AEA also has no research upon the behavior of emus, herded enmasse into a dark room, when confronted by a score of testosteronal adolescents, a stage circled by flashing lights, a faux-cheerleader named Buffy with her leg 4 feet up a well-oiled pole the better to display her vagina, and the blurry (even when still) image of a Florida State Senator vaulting (okay shlepping) over a bar only to land nose down in the cheeks of a desperate-to-escape bartender named Hajib.
MemphisVol
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The American Emu Association, a large, very responsible, and dedicated group of people committed to raising these animals for both their low-fat, high-protein meat, and for the amazing health benefits which the oil their meat does contain can testify that, "Emus are docile and non-aggressive towards people".
http://www.aea-emu.org/faq.asp
Unfortunately, the American Emu Association has conducted no tests whatsoever upon the conduct of emus, herded enmasse, into a dark strip-club by shotgun toting thugs.
Obviously, given the above oversight in their research program, the AEA also has no research upon the behavior of emus, herded enmasse into a dark room, when confronted by a score of testosteronal adolescents, a stage circled by flashing lights, a faux-cheerleader named Buffy with her leg 4 feet up a well-oiled pole the better to display her vagina, and the blurry (even when still) image of a Florida State Senator vaulting (okay shlepping) over a bar only to land nose down in the cheeks of a desperate-to-escape bartender named Hajib. [/quote]
The won-ton lodged deep in Gary's throat, and in a split second he, all semblance of "film noir" cool or pretension gone, was thrashing like a stuck pig around the inside of his Grand Torino trying to dislodge it.
For a freakishly surreal moment, even as his body bashed against every available surface, Gary's brain decided it was pretty funny that he was "thrashing like a stuck pig" on a pork won-ton.
With his last few brain cells, Gary decided throwing himself forward againt the nearest obstruction should, logically, eject the offensive won-ton from his throat.
Amazingly, Gary, the author of countless seemingly logical but ultimately stupid decisions was right.
MemphisVol
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The won-ton lodged deep in Gary's throat, and in a split second he, all semblance of "film noir" cool or pretension gone, was thrashing like a stuck pig around the inside of his Grand Torino trying to dislodge it.
For a freakishly surreal moment, even as his body bashed against every available surface, Gary's brain decided it was pretty funny that he was "thrashing like a stuck pig" on a pork won-ton.
With his last few brain cells, Gary decided throwing himself forward againt the nearest obstruction should, logically, eject the offensive won-ton from his throat.
Amazingly, Gary, the author of countless seemingly logical but ultimately stupid decisions was right. [/quote]
Of course, the fact that Gary, at that particular moment, beat his head repeatedly against the Grand Torino's horn, inadvertantly shoved the stick-shift into 1st, and jammed his foot down on the accelerator, pretty much spoiled the accomplishment.
At least as far as the gun-toting thugs and herd of emus were concerned.
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