Joon vs. Shizzo - who will win or lose?

[The Ugly]

At this point, I hate to see anyone gone. At one time I wanted him gone (maybe in more ways than one), but honestly, now, I've moved beyond.

I think getbig can be for everyone.

When he's not playing up the "Mafioso Uncle Junior" bit, he can be ok, but I do believe the drug use and drinking has gotten to him.

Seriously, try to get some help. If leaving getbig is healthier for you, then you should go, but if it's not, then stay.

Schizzo is fine.

I will honestly say I wasn't going to vote at all, but I just wanted to see how the voting was going, it's so lopsided it's more sad than funny.

I mean, I thought it would be close, but it's not... not even a little.

No x3.

Hell no x3.

Fuck to the no x3.

[TuHolmes]

No x3.

Hell no x3.

Fuck to the no x3.

Or not?

 

[Set It Up]

http://custom.simplemachines.org/mods/index.php?mod=185

I put this on my forum in case chaos ever joins there 

[_aj_]

How easy is this to implement for Ron?

None of these mods are difficult to implement. It would be a huge win.

[wes]

I put this on my forum in case chaos ever joins there 

[The Ugly]

Joon is banned for 2 weeks.  Upon his return, he will be limited to posting in the LOUNGE.  Any deviation from that will result in a permaban.  This includes any and all gimmicks, real or impostors.

Seems permanent ain't as permanent as it used to be.

[wes]

Seems permanent ain't as permanent as it used to be.

I take it your glad he`s gone?   

[The Ugly]

Notice how Joon tried to backpedal and change his original "challenge"

Why is this surprising, interesting, or relevant, though? Been doing retarded shit like this the whole time.

[The Ugly]

as long as he is on getbig January 1 thats all I care about

If this doesn't materialize, will you at least tell us what you had planned?

[The Ugly]

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
    While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“’Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
            Only this and nothing more.”

    Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
    Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
    From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
            Nameless here for evermore.

    And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
    So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
    “’Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
            This it is and nothing more.”

    Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
    But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
    And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
            Darkness there and nothing more.

    Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
    But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
    And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
            Merely this and nothing more.

    Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
    “Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
      Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
            ’Tis the wind and nothing more!”

    Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
    Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
    But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
            Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
    For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
    Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
            With such name as “Nevermore.”

    But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
    Nothing farther then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
    Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my Hopes have flown before.”
            Then the bird said “Nevermore.”

    Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
    Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
    Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
            Of ‘Never—nevermore’.”

    But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
    Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
    Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
            Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”

    This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
    This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
    On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet-violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
            She shall press, ah, nevermore!

    Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
    “Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
    Respite—respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
    Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
    On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    “Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
    Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
    It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    “Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
    Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
    Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
            Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”

    And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
    And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
    And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
            Shall be lifted—nevermore!



Well well.  I never got that before.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pallas_(Titan)#cite_note-6
The Homeric Hymn to Hermes makes the moon goddess Selene (usually the daughter of the Titans Hyperion and Theia), the daughter of Pallas the son of Megamedes (otherwise unknown), who may perhaps be identified with this Pallas.[5] Ovid uses the patronymic "Pallantias" or "Pallantis" as another name for Aurora, the Roman equivalent of the Greek Eos ("Dawn"), who was the sister of Selene; Ovid apparently regarding Aurora (or Eos) as the daughter of (or otherwise related to) Pallas

"Nevermore."

... or two weeks, whichever comes first.

[Set It Up]

If this doesn't materialize, will you at least tell us what you had planned?

I will 100% post it on January 1 no matter what.

[TuHolmes]

"Nevermore."

... or two weeks, whichever comes first.

[The Ugly]

I will 100% post it on January 1 no matter what.

Ok, then.

[The Ugly]

 

[SF1900]

If you dont like the rules then fine...........they have others.

Which ones (rules)? They are always changing. 

[SF1900]

Get it? I'm throwing you the rock and that would be PrincessL with the dirty butt.

would love for Princess L to jump in and save me from the ice water.

[SF1900]

and as much as i like this place,and never had issue with you,your flair with words and unrelenting jabbing 'some deserving'still you were part responsible to run navy_mike outta here..

Good. He was a piece of garbage. Collected disability, but was never in war. Called because of "wear and tear" on his body from climbing up stairs   . Collects disability, while veterans with no arms, no legs, PTSD, struggle to collect benefits. Has a handicapped sticker in his car, and takes up a handicapped spot, while letting the 95 year old grandma park 50 spots away from walmart, while he leg presses 800 pounds.

By the way, he didn't go anywhere. He signed on today. 

[wes]

I for one won`t miss the purple fonted fag.


bigmc says just ignore his posts yet he can`t seem to ignore Donny worth a shit.

[nzmusclemonster]

No x3.

Hell no x3.

Fuck to the no x3.

Is there an option d?

[TuHolmes]

Is there an option d?

Mal still shows up from time to time.

[pellius]

Good. He was a piece of garbage. Collected disability, but was never in war. Called because of "wear and tear" on his body from climbing up stairs   . Collects disability, while veterans with no arms, no legs, PTSD, struggle to collect benefits. Has a handicapped sticker in his car, and takes up a handicapped spot, while letting the 95 year old grandma park 50 spots away from walmart, while he leg presses 800 pounds.

By the way, he didn't go anywhere. He signed on today. 

Wait a minute. Navy Mike was on disability? For what? The guy trained and competed in a bbing competition. He's way more functionable and in better shape than the average person. 

[bigmc]

I for one won`t miss the purple fonted fag.


bigmc says just ignore his posts yet he can`t seem to ignore Donny worth a shit.

yeah but im not trying to get him banned all the time

[Donny]

I for one won`t miss the purple fonted fag.


bigmc says just ignore his posts yet he can`t seem to ignore Donny worth a shit.

I really am getting to the Ginger Mongoloid. Don´t forget bigmc is a big British Gangster Rules the UK boards with ruthless menace..

[bigmc]

I really am getting to the Ginger Mongoloid. Don´t forget bigmc is a big British Gangster Rules the UK boards with ruthless menace..

not really Donald

I just like laughing at you

everything you post is comedy gold

[Donny]

not really Donald

I just like laughing at you

everything you post is comedy gold

Ginger you are just a Fanny. People on the "other" Forum love you too.