Ranking the posters.
Comments
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Huh?RaccoonHarry said:Not one mention. Fuck all y'all...
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Don't go soft on us.RaceBannon said:
I heart you Bill. It amuses me how we disagree on just about everything. That doesn't make you a bad personFire_Marshall_Bill said:@puppylove_sugarsteel is at the top and it's not close. In the rants is some wisdom.
@HeretoBeatmyChest and @RoadDawg55 are always solid
I respect Race's legacy and wisdom even if he can't stand me.
Swaye's like the cool guy at the bar who's pretty funny.
I'm a fag but he needs more time was a good poster before he went creepy and crazy.
AZDUck is alright...for a Duck. -
As a newb I would say that:
Content
Coke
Race
TL (don't ever change)
Chest
Road
If I forgot u my bad
Funny
All you fucks crack me up. -
This one's too EEEEEEEEE Z.
We all know the best poaster here is lurkin' and not poastin' lil'Kim.
Respekt da bitterness! -
I love everyone here equally.
*HUGS* -
Comment about Sugar is spot on. This site should be renamed to Hardcore Puppy.Fire_Marshall_Bill said:@puppylove_sugarsteel is at the top and it's not close. In the rants is some wisdom.
@HeretoBeatmyChest and @RoadDawg55 are always solid
I respect Race's legacy and wisdom even if he can't stand me.
Swaye's like the cool guy at the bar who's pretty funny.
I'm a fag but he needs more time was a good poster before he went creepy and crazy.
AZDUck is alright...for a Duck.
Derek should pay him 10.99 a month to post here. -
Unreal! -- Even while I breathed there came to my nostrils the breath of the vapour of heated iron! A suffocating odour pervaded the prison! A deeper glow settled each moment in the eyes that glared at my agonies! A richer tint of crimson diffused itself over the pictured horrors of blood. I panted! I gasped for breath! There could be no doubt of the design of my tormentors -- oh! most unrelenting! oh! most demoniac of men! I shrank from the glowing metal to the centre of the cell. Amid the thought of the fiery destruction that impended, the idea of the coolness of the well came over my soul like balm. I rushed to its deadly brink. I threw my straining vision below. The glare from the enkindled roof illumined its inmost recesses. Yet, for a wild moment, did my spirit refuse to comprehend the meaning of what I saw. At length it forced -- it wrestled its way into my soul -- it burned itself in upon my shuddering reason. -- Oh! for a voice to speak! -- oh! horror! -- oh! any horror but this! With a shriek, I rushed from the margin, and buried my face in my hands -- weeping bitterly.
The heat rapidly increased, and once again I looked up, shuddering as with a fit of the ague. There had been a second change in the cell -- and now the change was obviously in the form. As before, it was in vain that I, at first, endeavoured to appreciate or understand what was taking place. But not long was I left in doubt. The Inquisitorial vengeance had been hurried by my two-fold escape, and there was to be no more dallying with the King of Terrors. The room had been square. I saw that two of its iron angles were now acute -- two, consequently, obtuse. The fearful difference quickly increased with a low rumbling or moaning sound. In an instant the apartment had shifted its form into that of a lozenge. But the alteration stopped not here-I neither hoped nor desired it to stop. I could have clasped the red walls to my bosom as a garment of eternal peace. "Death," I said, "any death but that of the pit!" Fool! might I have not known that into the pit it was the object of the burning iron to urge me? Could I resist its glow? or, if even that, could I withstand its pressure And now, flatter and flatter grew the lozenge, with a rapidity that left me no time for contemplation. Its centre, and of course, its greatest width, came just over the yawning gulf. I shrank back -- but the closing walls pressed me resistlessly onward. At length for my seared and writhing body there was no longer an inch of foothold on the firm floor of the prison. I struggled no more, but the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long, and final scream of despair. I felt that I tottered upon the brink -- I averted my eyes --
There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of many trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The fiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell, fainting, into the abyss. It was that of General Lasalle. The French army had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands of its enemies. -
Most ignorant post ever laid down in this shitpit. Take a bow Houston, then stay there while Freemont puts a thorough buttfuckin to you . This is typical dawgman post-loss panic language, with zero understanding of the big picture. Pete has a good football team a brewin. Wait it out cunt, I said 3-5 years.ApostleofGrief said:Unreal! -- Even while I breathed there came to my nostrils the breath of the vapour of heated iron! A suffocating odour pervaded the prison! A deeper glow settled each moment in the eyes that glared at my agonies! A richer tint of crimson diffused itself over the pictured horrors of blood. I panted! I gasped for breath! There could be no doubt of the design of my tormentors -- oh! most unrelenting! oh! most demoniac of men! I shrank from the glowing metal to the centre of the cell. Amid the thought of the fiery destruction that impended, the idea of the coolness of the well came over my soul like balm. I rushed to its deadly brink. I threw my straining vision below. The glare from the enkindled roof illumined its inmost recesses. Yet, for a wild moment, did my spirit refuse to comprehend the meaning of what I saw. At length it forced -- it wrestled its way into my soul -- it burned itself in upon my shuddering reason. -- Oh! for a voice to speak! -- oh! horror! -- oh! any horror but this! With a shriek, I rushed from the margin, and buried my face in my hands -- weeping bitterly.
The heat rapidly increased, and once again I looked up, shuddering as with a fit of the ague. There had been a second change in the cell -- and now the change was obviously in the form. As before, it was in vain that I, at first, endeavoured to appreciate or understand what was taking place. But not long was I left in doubt. The Inquisitorial vengeance had been hurried by my two-fold escape, and there was to be no more dallying with the King of Terrors. The room had been square. I saw that two of its iron angles were now acute -- two, consequently, obtuse. The fearful difference quickly increased with a low rumbling or moaning sound. In an instant the apartment had shifted its form into that of a lozenge. But the alteration stopped not here-I neither hoped nor desired it to stop. I could have clasped the red walls to my bosom as a garment of eternal peace. "Death," I said, "any death but that of the pit!" Fool! might I have not known that into the pit it was the object of the burning iron to urge me? Could I resist its glow? or, if even that, could I withstand its pressure And now, flatter and flatter grew the lozenge, with a rapidity that left me no time for contemplation. Its centre, and of course, its greatest width, came just over the yawning gulf. I shrank back -- but the closing walls pressed me resistlessly onward. At length for my seared and writhing body there was no longer an inch of foothold on the firm floor of the prison. I struggled no more, but the agony of my soul found vent in one loud, long, and final scream of despair. I felt that I tottered upon the brink -- I averted my eyes --
There was a discordant hum of human voices! There was a loud blast as of many trumpets! There was a harsh grating as of a thousand thunders! The fiery walls rushed back! An outstretched arm caught my own as I fell, fainting, into the abyss. It was that of General Lasalle. The French army had entered Toledo. The Inquisition was in the hands of its enemies. -
I stand by being supportive of the Sark hire. My point always was that you don't need to hire a proven head coach, you need to hire a great one. Given where we are with Petersen right now, I'd say I'm trending right.dnc said:1. HarveyRoad - The originator of most of Sven's shit, who is the the originator of most of our shit.
2. PLSS - Hit or miss like no one else, but his hits are GOAT.
3. Damone - So sad to see him flush away a great poasting career like that.
4. RaceBannon - Like WASHINGTON, his best days are behind him, but his glory days will always have a soft spot in my heart.
5. Sven - This place won't be the same without him.
6. Swaye - Makes my pp tingle.
7. APAG - Most willing to go against the grain, been right about almost everything regarding hoops and football over the years except that ugly Hire Sark blackeye. Would be higher if he poasted more.
8. DDY - One trick pony who just bashes the kids, but does it so well it's still funny after 2300 times.
9. GrundleGifskin - Makes my football pp tingle.
10. AZDuck - With Harv DOA, the best rival troll in the field, 'nuff said on that.
Shoutouts due to my negas NachoLover, RoadDawg, Chestbeater, CuntWaffle, doogles, misterem, cokehead, FreeChavez (best hoops poaster), mrspeterman, DJ (ILTCHDJ), negadawg, Madson, Dardanus, Freeme, pawz, Gladstone, Tequila L;dr and many more I'm probably forgetting. I remember leaving Dawgman and thinking there was maybe 5 poasters over there at that point I would miss. If this hellhole ever shut down I'd miss most of you fags. Self 75k. -
My fav poster is DAVIDDAWG.
