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Well, I wasn't going to mention your congenitally defective genitals, but since you brought it up, yeah, both of them would make you sad.

C'mon, Coach, gimme your "A" game. Just for once.

Totem

I said jumping on the bandwagon made him an idiot, if kakar wants to engage mi mano et mano as you put it, then I could have an ounce of respect for him, but standing behind you and saying "yea, what he said" gains him no respect from me.



I chose you, not the other way around; your memory is fairly poor, and we have already covered this. Look...



At this point you didn't even know the game was on. So give yourself a reality check, and start paying attention, because I may decide to pick up the pace.



This really is getting tiresome, bla bla bla nobody notices you, bla bla bla you are not intellegent, bla bla bla.

Your translation is weak at best, I have only been here a short time, and I have already seen this non linear translation bit done a million times. I can't wait to see what you regurgitate up next.

Continued on next post...

Now you are just being thick, and pissing me off for having to expose you as the fraud you are. It is like making the police run to catch you in a chase, everyone knows that you will be caught, but you just **** the cop off by making him run. Do you understand the similarity here, or will I need to spell this out for you as well, like I have had to do for every comment I have made through this entire arguement, because you can't grasp the concept of comparison.

Anyway lets get back to the point, I lost it there for a minute due to your dimness. Here is the line from your original post.



Now why did you include the descriptor "german" into this sentence, it adds no value to the overall meaning of the sentence it only shows that you know your **** about dodgeball, thus elevating it to a point where few have thought that dodgeball would ever go, including myself.

Now, you are likening this to ordering ice cream. When you order Ice cream the type of ice cream is extremely important since there are what 21 flavors, so in including a flavor you are adding necessary info to the sales person.

So in the dodgeball example the descriptor adds nothing except to reflect on your knowledge, in the ice cream example it does add value.

Can you see the difference, or should I bludgeon you with it some more.



But you are losing... everyone can see that. Are you going to turn it up after the game, in the shower, with the towel? In hockey we say, "Leave it all on the ice", I'll let you scratch your head about that one too.



Fair enough, I have faultered and I have learned, won't happen again chief. I will clean that up and make it clear to you, as obviously things are whipping past you at a speed for which you have never seen before.


Continued on next post...

Edited, Fri May 14 02:54:59 2004 by Reinman

You did a search on your own name, and every thread that came up mentioned you? Go figure...

Coach, I've made up a recipe in your honor, what in light of your new job, recent reappearance here at Alla's, and desire to have some new material to work with. As you may or may not know, I enjoy baking (feel free to inject any gratuitous **** jokes you feel are necessary to continue puffing up your pride). My chocolate chip cookies are to die for. However, I needed to break out of my comfort zone and create something new just for you, so without further ado, I present...

Coach's Cookies

1/2 cup a$$hole
1/4 cup packed "I'm an Alla's Board Has-been" brand pubic hair
1/3 cup fertilizer
1 teaspoon no life
3 tablespoons anger
1 1/3 cups all-purpose sour grapes
1/4 cup $5 wine
1/4 cup miniature semisweet no friends and no guild
3 tablespoons sh1tty career move
1 (10 ounce) jar of black, seething hate

1) Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). Line baking sheets with asexual mangina.
2) In a large bowl, cream the first four ingredients with your handy Failure at Life mixer and slowly add 1/3 cup of broken *****. Mix in the last five items, excluding the jar of hate.
3) Form the dough into 1 inch balls, so you think you're got a set after your wife emasculated you and roll in the black, seething hate. Place on the prepared cookie sheet, about 1 1/2 inches apart. Use your finger or thumb to press straight down into the center of each ball, making a hole for lonely tears. Neatly fill each cookie with a small amount of tears and menstrual drippings.
4) Bake in preheated oven for 13 to 15 minutes, or until cookies are just beginning to turn red from rage around the edges. Let cookies ***** before eating.

Enjoy!

Totem

Edited, Fri May 14 09:51:22 2004 by Totem

Actually coach,

Gen. George G Meade was in command of the Union army at Gettysburg.

Gen. Joseph Hooker lost the battle of Chancellorsville.

So many detractors, so few friends.

In order to be expedient I am going to number you tools instead of trying to do names.

1-Thundra
2-Totem
3-Rainman
4-Arrivan


First to number 3- Damn you must have a hard on to prove that you can hang with the big dogs. I have to let you in on a little secret here, if you post a really long post most people are not going to read it. Hell your post was about me and even I skimmed it.

First of all the picking of Mono et mono was tacky. Maybe next you can correct my grammatical mistakes.

Then you basically talked about my regurgitation, how weak my material is, you did the cut and paste thing, and you did the blah blah blah thing. These are all nice but way overused. Now I admit that when I see something extremely boring I will call it weak, but not in every argument. It has become your mantra though.

Then you commented on my similar use of form on three comments in a row. Could that be that for those three comments I was creating a relative insulting theme? No. That could not be it, I am not clever enough to use such a device.



At least part of this is true, apparently I have pissed you off.

Then you go back to saying that adding in the type of dodgeball to my original description (not even aimed at you) was ludicrous. I disagree. Perhaps the regional differences dictate that you did not call the game I am talking about "German dodge ball" but here in the south we did. I am sorry if this offends your sensiblities, but by using the word "German" I was alluding to an entirely different game as to what we called "Dodgeball." When I was inferring this to #2 I was wanting to be specific. Specificity obviously annoys you.



Says who? Do you have a support group sending you IM's to let you know this? If I had a nickel for every dip **** who had proclaimed that they were verbally whipping my *** I could take the summer off.

By the way it is possible to give the worst line I have ever seen, yet still be basically a prototypical anti-taco poster. You are run of the mill, but you laid a particularly nasty and somewhat memorable egg when you referred to yourself as my worst nightmare. Comprende?

I have now concluded my comments about #3, the footnote.

Now about #4-The sockpuppet

"Tacosid is a has been"

"Tacosid only lives in the past"

"Thundra is kicking your ***"

"Totem is kicking your ***"

"Rainman is kicking your ***"

This pretty much sums up that post. I will not take the time to answer someone who does not have the nuts to post against me directly.

Now to what #2-the instigator had to say.

The coach jokes just are not getting to me Totem. I am sorry but while idiots like Rainman make me post at length, the types of posts like the last one you did is just not hitting the mark. I am sorry to disappoint.

It was creative though...better than what most people use against me, it just doesn't get my goat, so to speak.

As for General Hooker...what can I say? You make mistakes when you try to do something from memory at 2am.

Tacosid





Edited, Fri May 14 11:17:35 2004 by Tacosid

Edited, Fri May 14 11:20:00 2004 by Tacosid

Are you enjoying typing novel length responses? If so then good for you. I politely pointed out that nobody is reading them. Please continue to post as much as you want though.



How many of the big boys have you gone up against? Even if Thundra, Totem, Smash, Patrician and half of alla's teamed up against you I doubt you would give an inch and admit you were getting creamed. Your type is truly a dime a dozen. People will NEVER come to this forum and pick you out of a crowd to harass. You have no particular flavor. I am not claiming that you are a total waste-hell many past footnotes had some modicum of talent-its just that your brand is common here. Even worse is the fact that you have the curse that prevents you from seeing it.



And you have done a decent job? There is that curse I was talking about. Not to give you the big head, but my dry and sarcastic form is part of what sets me apart from people like you...so you hit that nail right on the head.



Where? Please list these fine points.

and there was not one of your comments that showed any creativity.

This line was made famous by Copernicus. Its called the "Tacosid has no creativity line" If you would like I can insult you in a poem, or in song...

As for not reading long posts, that simply reflects on your attention span, or lack thereof.

It also reflects on the writers ability to read his audience. No one reads long posts here...especially long paragraphs. It is called the "Gbaji-effect"

This will be my last post as I see that you are not much of an opponent,

This is transparent. If you are trying to bow out gracefully you are failing.

I don't really care what wee KakarSmakar has to say,

Of course you don't he does not agree with you and thus he is an idiot right? Not to mention he has no A-game, no creativity, he is boring, and has no talent. Right?

I have seen your game, and walk away in disappointment.

You will be disappointed in every forum you visit then my boy.

Good luck answering Totems recipe post, there is no comeback to something like that, again proving that you are miles below the "big boys".

If you can't beat em, refer to someone you think can.

I know you tried to have a comeback to totems post, but again you failed miserably.

No I did not. The truth is that I have never fully understood totem. He likes to badger me, but will be the first to welcome me back after a haitus. I know that if given a choice he would rather have one Tacosid than 20 Rainmen on this forum, but he has a funny way of showing it.

Totem has once or twice really managed to get under my skin...but the whole coach thing does not do it. I am in no way saying the recipe is not creative...quite the contrary. Moreover I am not saying Totem is not creative...hell in comparison to you he is a freaking Einstein of creativity. All I am saying is that his current stick is not getting me riled. Especially when I already have a sock puppet, a wanna be, and a so called big boy to deal with already.

To #2. I did like the "add one bad career move" part of the recipe though. Nice touch.

Tacosid

Edited, Fri May 14 11:50:50 2004 by Tacosid

I am an enigma. Or *****. I'm not sure which.

Totem

Arrivan is not mine.

One more, since you spent the effort in created your own monstosity, I know I said I wouldn't post more, but as I said before, my objective was stalemate. I could keep this going forever, however, I chose, not you, to desist. You see how I am the one in control.

Nice use of the cut and paste technique that you just criticized me for, can you please stop contradicting yourself.

I include examples you say my posts are too long, I don't provide them and you say, please be specific. This is what you call game?

I'll see you around. I am off to play some early 16th century Mongolian Badminton.

There’s a smell in the air; the smell of fear. Accompanying this is the aroma of 24 hour old, un-"Scoped" coffee breath, and encrusted Columbian Juan Valdez bean rings at the bottom of countless styrofoam cups which occupy the general vicinity of our plucky PE coach’s work station.

But, mostly it's the smell of fear. Why? Because Coach absolutely knew his only chance of survival in this deathmatch against Totem would be to spend the entire morning, afternoon and early evening in ardent preparation. Coach T., sitting at his desk, stared down at the few remaining drops of coffee left in his cup. He was psyching himself into feeling hardcore. He clenched its cylindrical surface with the same aggression one might apply to the neck of a mole after surfacing from a proud, well kept lawn.

He downed the vile brew, pretending its unsatisfying temperature and taste was like drinking Guinness. However, the time for alcohol consumption had not yet begun. And he realized that. There was difficult work to do first. He took the empty cup and tossed it into the pile on the ground. Slowly he reached for it again, sort of gazing at it with the intensity of a 17 year old Honda owner watching "Pimp My Ride." He then took his thickest, most masculine looking finger-- the one most resembling his defective genitalia --and poked a hole in the bottom of the cup, which created an opening about the size of a piece of puffed rice. He proceeded to cut the rest out, creating a bottomless cup.

He put it up to his mouth as if it was a bull horn, and began rehearsing, "Sir, I am NOT feeling well today and will NOT be able to make it in. That is ALL. Good day SIR!" With a sigh, he tossed the cup back into the pile, and dropped his head to the desk depressingly, wishing he really had the poise and confidence to speak to his boss the same way he could to a white, undecorated wall in the gym teacher's office. He looked back down at the cup and reached for it one more time. With a wry smile, he put it back up to his mouth and asked the pile of wet and mildewy towels nearby if it sounded like he was on old time radio. The realization of his own absurdity, as well as the gallons of coffee he drunk as if it were happy hour, resulted in his hand striking his face with utter contempt for himself, and yelled, "****, Coach! You gotta keep your head IN THE GAME! There is no time for random tom-foolery, this is freaking WAR!"

Coach’s sweaty, shaky hand reached for the phone.

He dials up his boss, Vice-principal Reynolds.

<Ring, ring>!

Coach’s Boss: Good morning, this is Vice-principal Stan Reynolds. How may I help you?

Coach: Good morning Stan, this is Coach Tacosid. Hey, listen, I’m uhhhh, not gonna be able to make it in this morning. I’m really not feeling well.

VP Reynolds: Well, Coach, you've only been here for a couple of months and you already want some time off?

Coach: Yeah. So, uhh, ummm... yeah, sorry about the inconvenience and stuff. I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow...

<Click>

All the sudden a wave of relief lifted Coach out of his chair as he placed one hand on his heart, the other toward the sky and started singing in a falsetto as if to emulate a choir of angelic voices. The dreadful part was over. Next was the painful part: How to compose a post which rips Totem apart and restore him to past glories?

(to be continued)

Totem

My last comment did not address the story. I will get to that in a minute.

Tacosid