Duckfighter Illustrated: Reporting on his trip to Atlanta
Comments
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This is the best DFI everDardanus said:Race Bannon sat alone in a downtown Atlanta hotel room. The smell of booze and pills filled the room.
Quietly, Race chewed on an extinguished cigar. As he thumbed through the latest issue of Ebony, a faint warmth spread between his legs.
Then, as suddenly as it arrived, it passed.
"Christ," he muttered to himself.
His fingers were sore and cracked from flipping page after page after page. He had no idea how long he'd been laboring over this miserable necessity, but he was not ready to give up yet.
He let out a deep breath and prepared to continue working. The 10 AM glare burned through the window.
But as he set his rheumy eyes on an advertisement promising never-before-seen length and rigidity, a single phrase crept into his dulled consciousness.
Oh Alabama
He shook it off and returned to the ad, searching for a 1-800 number that might offer some solace. But he couldn't focus on the page. His mind was stuck.
You got the spare change
You've got to feel strange
"What is happening?" He wondered aloud to a pile of soiled men's and women's underwear. He hadn't felt anything like this in years. "How long has it been?" He put a hand to his forehead, unable to remember as the thoughts came roaring back.
Alabama, you got the weight on your shoulders
That's breaking your back
"NO!" He cried. "It can't be!!"
Your Cadillac has got a wheel in the ditch
And a wheel on the track
The words flooded him, haunting and invigorating him in a crazed tunnel of energy. It was an avalanche of emotion and he was powerless to do anything but absorb every word and note.
What are you doing Alabama?
Alabama...
Alabama...
...
He awoke sometime later. He didn't know how long it had been. Hours? Days? Weeks? He would never know. Never be able to explain what had happened. Who would listen? or care?
With a sigh, he reached over and found the magazine, determined to finish his personal Kobayashi Maru. But deep in his mind, he knew Alabama would always be there. -
Black women is the whole fucking point of ATL.
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tenndawg said:
Oh Thor, let us plunger those who oppose uswhatshouldicareabout said:Considering that Washington is a church school and that Petersen is nicknamed "The Bishop", I think we should start every football game with a prayer.
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Yes it is.Dennis_DeYoung said:Black women is the whole fucking point of ATL.
Can't wait for the final there next year.
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And we'll be back in the ATL for the opening game in 2018! WOOOOOOOFRaceBannon said:
Yes it is.Dennis_DeYoung said:Black women is the whole fucking point of ATL.
Can't wait for the final there next year. -
Woosh? Jefferson and Tumwater middle school...AEB said:Public schools in Charlotte offer football in junior high school. How fucking awesome is that? That's when I started to really understand this west coast/blue state vs south/red state thing.
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I'm still trying to figure out "One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish"seatownfunk said:
Woosh? Jefferson and Tumwater middle school...AEB said:Public schools in Charlotte offer football in junior high school. How fucking awesome is that? That's when I started to really understand this west coast/blue state vs south/red state thing.
Dr Seuss is a legend who made millions by rhyming fish, fish fish and fish and drawing pictures like a guy on acid with a crayon...
What the fuck...oh right football, never mind -
Didn't know that. Never saw it CA or Seattle.seatownfunk said:
Woosh? Jefferson and Tumwater middle school...AEB said:Public schools in Charlotte offer football in junior high school. How fucking awesome is that? That's when I started to really understand this west coast/blue state vs south/red state thing.
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YVBFEDardanus said:Race Bannon sat alone in a downtown Atlanta hotel room. The smell of booze and pills filled the room.
Quietly, Race chewed on an extinguished cigar. As he thumbed through the latest issue of Ebony, a faint warmth spread between his legs.
Then, as suddenly as it arrived, it passed.
"Christ," he muttered to himself.
His fingers were sore and cracked from flipping page after page after page. He had no idea how long he'd been laboring over this miserable necessity, but he was not ready to give up yet.
He let out a deep breath and prepared to continue working. The 10 AM glare burned through the window.
But as he set his rheumy eyes on an advertisement promising never-before-seen length and rigidity, a single phrase crept into his dulled consciousness.
Oh Alabama
He shook it off and returned to the ad, searching for a 1-800 number that might offer some solace. But he couldn't focus on the page. His mind was stuck.
You got the spare change
You've got to feel strange
"What is happening?" He wondered aloud to a pile of soiled men's and women's underwear. He hadn't felt anything like this in years. "How long has it been?" He put a hand to his forehead, unable to remember as the thoughts came roaring back.
Alabama, you got the weight on your shoulders
That's breaking your back
"NO!" He cried. "It can't be!!"
Your Cadillac has got a wheel in the ditch
And a wheel on the track
The words flooded him, haunting and invigorating him in a crazed tunnel of energy. It was an avalanche of emotion and he was powerless to do anything but absorb every word and note.
What are you doing Alabama?
Alabama...
Alabama...
...
He awoke sometime later. He didn't know how long it had been. Hours? Days? Weeks? He would never know. Never be able to explain what had happened. Who would listen? or care?
With a sigh, he reached over and found the magazine, determined to finish his personal Kobayashi Maru. But deep in his mind, he knew Alabama would always be there. -
I've never been down with black women. When two peoples as oppressed as ours have been get together, nothing good can come from it - except alcoholic gangbangers.
