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"tournament" poems
A female tennis player might give An umpire a piece of her mind When she disagrees with him. Consequently, she is fined Or penalized in other ways. However, if the player's a male, He can spit, destroy his racket, Yell, and viciously assail The umpire at a tournament. He could even resort to calling The ump an "abortion," and little or nothing Happens to him. Now THAT'S appalling! A candid man might be considered "Direct" or "outspoken." Isn't that rich? But if you are an assertive women, You are basically called a ***** A man who loudly demonstrates At a Senate hearing in an angry fashion Could be considered "aggressive" or even Be called a man of "impetuous passion." A woman, however, who interrupts A Senate hearing with passion hears Herself being called "hysterical" when She's led away to Senators' sneers. Sexism? Discrimination? Inequality? Status quo? It certainly appears that way. The double standard has got to go! -by Bob B (9-11-18)
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Sep 11, 2018
Sep 11, 2018 at 9:13 AM UTC
The Old Double Standard
Perhaps the greatest tennis player the World has ever seen She had won nine Grand Slam tournaments before she was nineteen Till her marvellous tennis career was prematurely ended in such a tragic way Thrown from her horse her foot was crushed that's life as some might say. The marvellous Maureen Connolly the greatest tennis player of her time Her great career had ended long before she had reached her prime Nine grand slams as a teenager her record may never be beat She won every grand slam tournament in which she did compete. The greats of present day tennis we hear so much about Though 'tis not on their greatness we ever cast a doubt But of nine Grand Slams as a teenager none of them can boast To the late Maureen Connolly we ought to drink a toast. Great tennis players like the Seasons they come and then they go But there was only one Maureen Connolly the legendary 'Little Mo' Nine Grand Slams as a teenager believe it if you may The champion amongst champions her record stands today.
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Apr 25, 2010
Apr 25, 2010 at 5:41 PM UTC
Maureen Connolly
I thought you considered me a friend You were always nice to me But I am afraid That I thought wrong Well, being wrong has become as common As India failing to win a global cricket tournament Especially as far as people are concerned Thanks to my autism Though I was not aware of it When I was in college with you all I was always seen as different Well, it is true that I am different But I was never one of you I was a lone wolf Left to fend for myself At the slightest hint of trouble You never took me seriously I was always the problem child Who just needed to "grow up" And then everything would be taken care of It also didn't help That I was a South Indian Though my Hindi was decent You always saw me as a "Madrasi" But I saw you all as human beings Not fair-skinned North Indians Anyway, you must understand one thing Friendship is not a joke It is a serious relationship If you can't be friends after college Then you can never be friends at all Don't call me a friend And then take me for granted Leaving me to drown In a pool of my deepest insecurities Which, by the way Would never have been created in the first place Had you possessed the guts To be honest with me Right from the start Instead of playing your precious games Just call me an acquaintance And be done with it Full stop
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Dec 10, 2022
Dec 10, 2022 at 10:50 AM UTC
Friendship Is Not A Joke
Georgiana Seymour,             Duchess of Somerset crowned _'Queen of Beauty'_ at the 1839 Eglinton Tournament,    the first known                         beauty pageant; W European festivals dating to the medieval era provide the most direct lineage for beauty pageants. For example, English May Day celebrations always involved the selection of a May Queen. In the United States, the May Day tradition of selecting a woman to serve as a symbol of bounty and community ideals continued, as young beautiful women participated in public celebrations; such as the beauty pageant held during the Eglinton Tournament of 1839, organized by Archibald Montgomerie,           13th Earl of Eglinton, as part of a re-enactment of a medieval joust that was held in Scotland;                                the pageant was won by Georgiana Seymour,                                   Duchess of Somerset, wife of Edward Seymour,                             12th Duke of Somerset, and sister of Caroline Norton;                 Georgiana proclaimed _"Queen of Beauty"_; Entrepreneur Phineas Taylor Barnum staged the first modern American pageant in 1854,           his beauty contest closed down after public protest; However beauty contests became popular in the 1880s;     In 1888 the title of _'beauty queen'_ was awarded to an 18-year-old Creole contestant at a pageant in Spa, Belgium. All participants had to supply a photograph & a short description of themselves to be eligible to enter; a final selection of 21 judged by a formal panel. Such events were not regarded as respectable; But beauty contests came to be considered more respectable with the first modern _"Miss America"_            contest held in 1921; Still the oldest pageant in operation,   the Miss America pageant was organized in 1921 by a local businessman as a means to entice tourists to Atlantic City, New Jersey; The pageant hosted the winners of local             newspaper beauty contests in the _Inter-City Beauty Contest_ & was attended     by over one hundred thousand people; _Sixteen-year-old Margaret Gorman of Washington, D.C. was crowned Miss America 1921, having won both the popularity and beauty contests, and was awarded $100_
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Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 10:04 AM UTC
Queens of Beauty
Georgiana Seymour,             Duchess of Somerset crowned _'Queen of Beauty'_ at the 1839 Eglinton Tournament,    the first known                         beauty pageant; W European festivals dating to the medieval era provide the most direct lineage for beauty pageants. For example, English May Day celebrations always involved the selection of a May Queen. In the United States, the May Day tradition of selecting a woman to serve as a symbol of bounty and community ideals continued, as young beautiful women participated in public celebrations; such as the beauty pageant held during the Eglinton Tournament of 1839, organized by Archibald Montgomerie,           13th Earl of Eglinton, as part of a re-enactment of a medieval joust that was held in Scotland;                                the pageant was won by Georgiana Seymour,                                   Duchess of Somerset, wife of Edward Seymour,                             12th Duke of Somerset, and sister of Caroline Norton;                 Georgiana proclaimed _"Queen of Beauty"_; Entrepreneur Phineas Taylor Barnum staged the first modern American pageant in 1854,           his beauty contest closed down after public protest; However beauty contests became popular in the 1880s;     In 1888 the title of _'beauty queen'_ was awarded to an 18-year-old Creole contestant at a pageant in Spa, Belgium. All participants had to supply a photograph & a short description of themselves to be eligible to enter; a final selection of 21 judged by a formal panel. Such events were not regarded as respectable; But beauty contests came to be considered more respectable with the first modern _"Miss America"_            contest held in 1921; Still the oldest pageant in operation,   the Miss America pageant was organized in 1921 by a local businessman as a means to entice tourists to Atlantic City, New Jersey; The pageant hosted the winners of local             newspaper beauty contests in the _Inter-City Beauty Contest_ & was attended     by over one hundred thousand people; _Sixteen-year-old Margaret Gorman of Washington, D.C. was crowned Miss America 1921, having won both the popularity and beauty contests, and was awarded $100_
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49
Waltzing into the blanket of dusk. A pawn escaping across the checkered board, Out and inwards to the green grassed yard. A sleeting figure, past-and-future, Gone the way of the fearless noble rook. Down-acrossed squares of black and white.   Into the field of endless battle. This game we play, has become a tournament. White against black, two players locked; Locked in a battle of constant wits. Who shall win? The noble too afraid to capture the evil queen or, The darkness plauging the board. Check and mate.
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Oct 30, 2012
Oct 30, 2012 at 2:41 PM UTC
Checkmate.
There's always that one girl with the astonishing smile and the little sly gap       between her front teeth- charming because it screams of mischief. There's always that one girl with the literature voice and the Zimbabwe speech     sneaking in through her points, arguments, metaphors. Identity. That one, inexplicable, eccentric      girl who somehow teaches you how take to take a selfie in the dark nighttime balcony of an African university. And somehow by the end of it, as you are carried away to tomorrow by the sound of her new sim-card voice, you wonder why some victories cannot be gold medals you can take back home to your parents, as she bus-drifts away back to that spirited mother land that hatched her onto a podium. Then that new sim-card is discarded. And some smiles you cannot forget.
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Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 10:21 AM UTC
Debate Tournament.
MY NEICE IS A AN OLD ROCK AND ROLL SINGER OF THE PAST YOU SEE MY NIECE CAITLIN IS A ROCK SINGER JUST LIKE MY BROTHER IS THERE COULD BE PREVIOUS LIVES STORIES HERE LIKE SHE COULD BE ROY ORBISON OR RICKY MAY OR SOMEONE BETTER, CAUSE MY NIECE CATLIN IS SO PERFECT AT SINGERS, IT GOES FURTHER THAN GENES IF MY MATE PAUL BERENYI DIED IN 1995 LIKE A ****** TOLD ME HE COULD BE CAITLIN, BUT YOU CAN’T TRUST OTHER PEOPLE BETTER JUST TRUST THE NEWS AND NO MATTER WHO CAITLIN WAS IN HER PREVIOUS LIFE SHE SHOULD ****** CHOOSE, WHAT IS A HER CHARACTER I AM JUST CRONUS THE POWERFUL GOD I CAN TELL IF I HAVE THE INTERNET FACTS I CAN FIND PREVIOUS LIFE PATTERNS BY, WORKING OUT WHEN PEOPLE DIE AND HOW MANY YEARS, AND NORMALLY IF THEY YELL THEY WERE EITHER, KIDNAPPERS, OF OLD HOOLIGANS OF THE PAST BUT CAITLIN IS A GREAT SINGER, AND SHE HAS SOME PREVIOUS LIFE PATTERN I KNOW MY BROTHER IS A SINGER TOO, BUT THERE IS MORE THAN THAT I KNOW LIKE, I WAS ISABELLA OF FRANCE, I WAS THEIR FAMILIES ENTERTAINER I KNOW SCOTT MCDONALD WANTED TO TEASE ME SO HE DIED AND BECAME TWO CATS, LUCKY THE CAT WHO WILL TEASE DAD WHEN IT RAINS, AND MUSCLES WAS TO SAY ONLY ANIMALS DO WHAT I DID BACK THEN THAT IS WHY THE GUYS TEASED ME IF PAUL DID DIE, IN 1995, HE COULD BE MY NIECE CAITLIN BECAUSE NOW I MENTION IT, IT COULD’VE BEEN BEFORE 1995 WHEN I SAW HIM AT TUGGERANONG WITH ANTHONY COSTA WATCHING BASKETBALL BUT I KNOW DAD IS IN THE ****** OF LISA CAMPBELL, WITH ROBIN WILLIAMS WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO, IS BRING MY FAMILY HAPPINESS CAITLIN COULD BE PAUL BERENYI, OR COULD BE ROY ORBISON AND NO MATTER WHO SHE IS, SHE IS MY NIECE, AND SUSAN IS MY OTHER NIECE AND I LOVE THEM BOTH TO BITS AND NOW, THE RAIN IS COMING CAUSED BY PAUL BERENYI SAYING NO MATTER WHO I AM, CRONUS SHOULD KEEP IT DOWN GO TO BED USA, AS THERE IS A BIG SURFING TOURNAMENT IN MERCURY ORGANISED BY THE TERRORISTS, TO CALM THE HEAT, AND NOT **** THEIR HOOLIGAN BUT CRONUS TELLS DAD, TO KEEP THEM STRAPPED IN THE SUN WHERE NO WATER CAN SAVE THEM, THEY’LL SUFFER
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Jan 10, 2015
Jan 10, 2015 at 1:55 AM UTC
STUFF ABOUT PREVIOUS LIVES
MY NEICE IS A AN OLD ROCK AND ROLL SINGER OF THE PAST YOU SEE MY NIECE CAITLIN IS A ROCK SINGER JUST LIKE MY BROTHER IS THERE COULD BE PREVIOUS LIVES STORIES HERE LIKE SHE COULD BE ROY ORBISON OR RICKY MAY OR SOMEONE BETTER, CAUSE MY NIECE CATLIN IS SO PERFECT AT SINGERS, IT GOES FURTHER THAN GENES IF MY MATE PAUL BERENYI DIED IN 1995 LIKE A ****** TOLD ME HE COULD BE CAITLIN, BUT YOU CAN’T TRUST OTHER PEOPLE BETTER JUST TRUST THE NEWS AND NO MATTER WHO CAITLIN WAS IN HER PREVIOUS LIFE SHE SHOULD ****** CHOOSE, WHAT IS A HER CHARACTER I AM JUST CRONUS THE POWERFUL GOD I CAN TELL IF I HAVE THE INTERNET FACTS I CAN FIND PREVIOUS LIFE PATTERNS BY, WORKING OUT WHEN PEOPLE DIE AND HOW MANY YEARS, AND NORMALLY IF THEY YELL THEY WERE EITHER, KIDNAPPERS, OF OLD HOOLIGANS OF THE PAST BUT CAITLIN IS A GREAT SINGER, AND SHE HAS SOME PREVIOUS LIFE PATTERN I KNOW MY BROTHER IS A SINGER TOO, BUT THERE IS MORE THAN THAT I KNOW LIKE, I WAS ISABELLA OF FRANCE, I WAS THEIR FAMILIES ENTERTAINER I KNOW SCOTT MCDONALD WANTED TO TEASE ME SO HE DIED AND BECAME TWO CATS, LUCKY THE CAT WHO WILL TEASE DAD WHEN IT RAINS, AND MUSCLES WAS TO SAY ONLY ANIMALS DO WHAT I DID BACK THEN THAT IS WHY THE GUYS TEASED ME IF PAUL DID DIE, IN 1995, HE COULD BE MY NIECE CAITLIN BECAUSE NOW I MENTION IT, IT COULD’VE BEEN BEFORE 1995 WHEN I SAW HIM AT TUGGERANONG WITH ANTHONY COSTA WATCHING BASKETBALL BUT I KNOW DAD IS IN THE ****** OF LISA CAMPBELL, WITH ROBIN WILLIAMS WHAT I AM TRYING TO DO, IS BRING MY FAMILY HAPPINESS CAITLIN COULD BE PAUL BERENYI, OR COULD BE ROY ORBISON AND NO MATTER WHO SHE IS, SHE IS MY NIECE, AND SUSAN IS MY OTHER NIECE AND I LOVE THEM BOTH TO BITS AND NOW, THE RAIN IS COMING CAUSED BY PAUL BERENYI SAYING NO MATTER WHO I AM, CRONUS SHOULD KEEP IT DOWN GO TO BED USA, AS THERE IS A BIG SURFING TOURNAMENT IN MERCURY ORGANISED BY THE TERRORISTS, TO CALM THE HEAT, AND NOT **** THEIR HOOLIGAN BUT CRONUS TELLS DAD, TO KEEP THEM STRAPPED IN THE SUN WHERE NO WATER CAN SAVE THEM, THEY’LL SUFFER
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39
It's amazing how fast a year can go by. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. That sweet day in May. I remember waking up to a text, "Your sister is in labor." I think I smiled bigger than I ever have before. I was so anxious all day. I had a tournament that day too. We had just finished our game and I checked my phone. I saw the message, with a picture attached. A picture of you. And while everyone was happy and estatic that we had won, I had joy in my heart because you were finally here, After all those long months that never seemed to end, you were finally here. I remember the day your mom told me she was pregnant with you. I remember all the days I spent with her while she had never ending morning sickness. Helping her take care of the house and your sisters. The sickness never seemed to go away. I remember that day in class when my ***** sent me a text. It's a boy! I was so happy I screamed with excitement. Everyone turned to look at me but I didn't are. All I cared about in that moment was you. I remember the day they brought you home. I got to hold you for the very first time that night. I fell in love instantly. You looked so peaceful wrapped up in that blanket. Your eyelids flutterling. Your chest falling and rising with every breath you took; because you were finally here. And you were beautiful. The days and months started to pass and you grew with every passing day. I watched in awe. I loved seeing you learn to crawl, then stand on your own, then walk. Now starting to form tiny words. You are growing into such a handsome big boy. But you will always be my little bug.
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May 12, 2013
May 12, 2013 at 6:28 PM UTC
Happy birthday Bug
It's amazing how fast a year can go by. I still remember that day like it was yesterday. That sweet day in May. I remember waking up to a text, "Your sister is in labor." I think I smiled bigger than I ever have before. I was so anxious all day. I had a tournament that day too. We had just finished our game and I checked my phone. I saw the message, with a picture attached. A picture of you. And while everyone was happy and estatic that we had won, I had joy in my heart because you were finally here, After all those long months that never seemed to end, you were finally here. I remember the day your mom told me she was pregnant with you. I remember all the days I spent with her while she had never ending morning sickness. Helping her take care of the house and your sisters. The sickness never seemed to go away. I remember that day in class when my ***** sent me a text. It's a boy! I was so happy I screamed with excitement. Everyone turned to look at me but I didn't are. All I cared about in that moment was you. I remember the day they brought you home. I got to hold you for the very first time that night. I fell in love instantly. You looked so peaceful wrapped up in that blanket. Your eyelids flutterling. Your chest falling and rising with every breath you took; because you were finally here. And you were beautiful. The days and months started to pass and you grew with every passing day. I watched in awe. I loved seeing you learn to crawl, then stand on your own, then walk. Now starting to form tiny words. You are growing into such a handsome big boy. But you will always be my little bug.
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38
The Church and the Pub:                                                 I.                  No One was Before the Blessed Sacrament       Between the Hours of 8:00-9:20, 10:20-11:45, & 1:10-1:50                                  -the parish bulletin And yet we are always before something: A pint of beer, a tv football match A darts game where the plastic feathers fly Miss Swivelly-Hips in her kinky-boots But still, the small red lamp alone in the dark Shines on for us, for Miss Swivelly too Throughout the careless hours when we neglect Duty for the fellowship of the pub “No one was before the Blessed Sacrament…” And yet we are always before something                                                   II.             “No One was Here for the Weekly Darts Tournament”                            -the old geezer in the corner And yet there is much to be said for the pub: A pint of beer, a tv football match A darts game where the plastic feathers fly Miss Swivelly-Hips – but we have mentioned her That fluorescent beer ad’s a kind of red The old geezer’s cheeks shine, especially when Miss Swivelley-Hips flirts him for a beer There is an honest joy in fellowship “No one was here for the darts tournament” (Maybe they were before the Sacrament?)
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Aug 12, 2019
Aug 12, 2019 at 3:51 PM UTC
The Blessed Sacrament, a Beer, and Miss Swivelly Hips
it's 8:00 somewhere in Washington D.C. and the global selection committee has made its picks: for the 473rd time all the number one seeds are filled by countries that break the most rims and shatter the most glass. here we have the U.S of the North American region taking on Haiti, cos the poorest countries always place no higher than 14. China of the Asia region has drawn Nepal, Israel gets Palestine, and Italy pulls Ethiopia. There are no African countries- they didn't make the tournament this year. No problem tho, the selection committee figures they've been beaten up too many times to even make a layup. Games start tmrw so grab your favorite basketball merchandise and keep the channel set. There will be no upsets so don't bother pulling for the underdog. They've already been neutered, anyway.
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Mar 20, 2013
Mar 20, 2013 at 10:49 PM UTC
If The World Was An NCAA Tournament Bracket
Pathetic. That’s what I’d call you. Just plain miserable and manipulative. You tricked me into giving you the world . Deceived me into believing that you’d never do me ***** You blinded me by your lies “Forget about them , you have me.” But , I didn’t really have you .. Did I ? You took what you wanted . You let me put you before myself . But ? I don’t even blame you . Maybe if I would’ve been in your position , Being offered the world And only being asked for friendship in return .. Maybe then I would’ve robbed you of your trust . And your love . You were my best friend . My ace , My platonic soulmate . And I treated you as much . But, what was I ? To you , What was I ? A personal tutor ? Remember those last two essays that you just couldn’t get done ? Who helped you ? Who stayed up after an exhausting day at work , After having to bike home in the cold and rain ? Just so you could pass and not worry. Maybe , I was just a free ride . Always taking you places , Always giving you the keys and letting you do whatever. You filled the tank maybe twice within a nine month period . And I never once said anything . Oh I got it , I was your ATM. Whenever you needed money , I was glad to help . Whether it was for an Uber so you could go to your volleyball tournament Since your own “mother” couldn’t take you Or whether it was for a Plan B because YIKES Your boyfriend didn’t know how to pull out . Hm , I guess I was also a personal shopper . Buying you clothes when I bought me some . You didn’t wanna spend your money ? That was fine . I would spend mine And you didn’t even have to ask. I was everything except your friend and that’s all I wanted to be . I should’ve seen this coming . I should have KNOWN . Looking back All I can see are the signs , Foreshadowing what was to come . You started to change right in front of my own eyes but I didn’t want to believe it . Didn’t want to believe what I could clearly see . You started to ignore me . For days on end . Living in the same house became something like a Silent war . Everyone against me . Including you . You started to disappear into your room . There were no more lifetime movie marathons together . No more staying up and goofing around together . No more talking about any and everything together . I lost you way before I knew I lost you and that makes my heart ache like a pre-existing bruise getting hit over and over again .
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Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 7:42 PM UTC
If I could talk to you , this is what I’d say.
Pathetic. That’s what I’d call you. Just plain miserable and manipulative. You tricked me into giving you the world . Deceived me into believing that you’d never do me ***** You blinded me by your lies “Forget about them , you have me.” But , I didn’t really have you .. Did I ? You took what you wanted . You let me put you before myself . But ? I don’t even blame you . Maybe if I would’ve been in your position , Being offered the world And only being asked for friendship in return .. Maybe then I would’ve robbed you of your trust . And your love . You were my best friend . My ace , My platonic soulmate . And I treated you as much . But, what was I ? To you , What was I ? A personal tutor ? Remember those last two essays that you just couldn’t get done ? Who helped you ? Who stayed up after an exhausting day at work , After having to bike home in the cold and rain ? Just so you could pass and not worry. Maybe , I was just a free ride . Always taking you places , Always giving you the keys and letting you do whatever. You filled the tank maybe twice within a nine month period . And I never once said anything . Oh I got it , I was your ATM. Whenever you needed money , I was glad to help . Whether it was for an Uber so you could go to your volleyball tournament Since your own “mother” couldn’t take you Or whether it was for a Plan B because YIKES Your boyfriend didn’t know how to pull out . Hm , I guess I was also a personal shopper . Buying you clothes when I bought me some . You didn’t wanna spend your money ? That was fine . I would spend mine And you didn’t even have to ask. I was everything except your friend and that’s all I wanted to be . I should’ve seen this coming . I should have KNOWN . Looking back All I can see are the signs , Foreshadowing what was to come . You started to change right in front of my own eyes but I didn’t want to believe it . Didn’t want to believe what I could clearly see . You started to ignore me . For days on end . Living in the same house became something like a Silent war . Everyone against me . Including you . You started to disappear into your room . There were no more lifetime movie marathons together . No more staying up and goofing around together . No more talking about any and everything together . I lost you way before I knew I lost you and that makes my heart ache like a pre-existing bruise getting hit over and over again .
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76
you are dealt with cards pocket aces! ***** and a heart your mind celebrated you have been gambling for so long cards as such don’t come so often a sure win you say, maybe its my lucky day! you raise a bet, certain you’d take the *** flop was layed, two clubs and a heart you check, one player bet and the other calls now’s the turn, a diamond ace! a semi-backdoor! you thought so you go all in here comes the river, another club you confidently show your cards but you take no notice there are three clubs in the community cards you have three of a kind but the other has a flush. you lost the *** now out of the game bad beat commentators say you answer i’d be smarter the next tournament i’d play.
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 6:42 AM UTC
poker life
Cramped, lost, and crying in my own exhausted body, tired of spending all my money like I'm overly gaudy. Short is this pain but long is the ornament, until I see the path to winning this life-long tournament. No longer numb am I, yet still caught in a gasp. New knowledge instilled that ferociously connected the dots, and at long last filled in the gaps.
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Jan 27, 2017
Jan 27, 2017 at 6:16 PM UTC
No Longer Numb
Your names on my birth certificate. Your DNA runs through my blood. I have your eyes. But those are just small physical things. They say sometimes your dad isn't just the one who helped to give you life, but the one who actually stands by you. Cares about you... and proves it. At times, you've been more of a dad to me than my real dad ever was. Ever is. He gets so disappointed in everything I do. Grades. Sports. Life. He yells over everything I bring home from school, so I dont bring anything home anymore. If I need something signed for class, I come to you instead. You never scream. Never yell. Instead, you just encourage me to do better. You help me to understand more. He gets frustrated that I play so much. But I love it, and I dont know if he gets that. Instead of being encouraging and supporting, he gets mad over it all. Another late practice. Another tournament. Well guess what? Winners arn't made by sitting on the couch. Im glad you understand that. You're always so encouraging and helpful to me. Picking me up for class. Staying after your girls are done to give me a ride when Im done. Simply telling me I had a good game. Sometimes thats more than he ever does. Sometimes he doesnt even come. Sometimes, he doesnt support me in anything. Even when he knew I was at my lowest point, he kicked me while I was down. But you didnt. You dont. You found out what I was doing to myself, and you never once judged me. You're always there to crack jokes and make me smile. You're always there for me. Whether I text you in the middle of the day or the middle of the night. Thank you. For all that you've done. All that you do. I couldn't ask for a better coach than you.
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Jan 20, 2013
Jan 20, 2013 at 12:27 AM UTC
More than just a coach.
Your names on my birth certificate. Your DNA runs through my blood. I have your eyes. But those are just small physical things. They say sometimes your dad isn't just the one who helped to give you life, but the one who actually stands by you. Cares about you... and proves it. At times, you've been more of a dad to me than my real dad ever was. Ever is. He gets so disappointed in everything I do. Grades. Sports. Life. He yells over everything I bring home from school, so I dont bring anything home anymore. If I need something signed for class, I come to you instead. You never scream. Never yell. Instead, you just encourage me to do better. You help me to understand more. He gets frustrated that I play so much. But I love it, and I dont know if he gets that. Instead of being encouraging and supporting, he gets mad over it all. Another late practice. Another tournament. Well guess what? Winners arn't made by sitting on the couch. Im glad you understand that. You're always so encouraging and helpful to me. Picking me up for class. Staying after your girls are done to give me a ride when Im done. Simply telling me I had a good game. Sometimes thats more than he ever does. Sometimes he doesnt even come. Sometimes, he doesnt support me in anything. Even when he knew I was at my lowest point, he kicked me while I was down. But you didnt. You dont. You found out what I was doing to myself, and you never once judged me. You're always there to crack jokes and make me smile. You're always there for me. Whether I text you in the middle of the day or the middle of the night. Thank you. For all that you've done. All that you do. I couldn't ask for a better coach than you.
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41
When cliffs and waves clash Continuous tournament Victor is unknown ~.~
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May 4, 2017
May 4, 2017 at 4:19 AM UTC
THE COAST
You know the famous saying All good things come to an end This applies to weekends as well Or in this case, Sundays Because I was forced to work yesterday Due to a massive project Which will keep me occupied For a good three weeks Including two Saturdays Hence, all the more reason To positively dread the start of tomorrow Ah yes, the infamous Monday Something that terrifies me More than climbing Mount Everest Or entering a lion's den Or earning the wrath of a cobra I can go on and on But I think I've made my point Yes, Mondays are bad Especially if you've enjoyed the weekend As much as I did Notwithstanding working on Saturday So, do you want to know What makes tomorrow twice as bad As any other Monday? Firstly, as mentioned earlier I am working on a big project Probably my biggest in the last three years Secondly, while the going has been smooth so far Things are going to get tricky So far, all I have accomplished Is pure research But now, I'll have to start calling people And these are not recruitment calls Which are relatively straightforward On the other hand I am entering pure sales territory Which may not be a big deal For most "normal" people But for someone who is autistic It is a different ballgame altogether In fact, it is like steering a ship Through the Bermuda Triangle And finally The biggest roadblock In my long and treacherous path Is not the candidates Not even the client But my accursed laptop Whose ability to perform under pressure Is even less than that of South Africa In a global cricket tournament
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Feb 20, 2022
Feb 20, 2022 at 11:58 AM UTC
Why Tomorrow Is Going To Be Twice As Bad As Any Other Monday
You know the famous saying All good things come to an end This applies to weekends as well Or in this case, Sundays Because I was forced to work yesterday Due to a massive project Which will keep me occupied For a good three weeks Including two Saturdays Hence, all the more reason To positively dread the start of tomorrow Ah yes, the infamous Monday Something that terrifies me More than climbing Mount Everest Or entering a lion's den Or earning the wrath of a cobra I can go on and on But I think I've made my point Yes, Mondays are bad Especially if you've enjoyed the weekend As much as I did Notwithstanding working on Saturday So, do you want to know What makes tomorrow twice as bad As any other Monday? Firstly, as mentioned earlier I am working on a big project Probably my biggest in the last three years Secondly, while the going has been smooth so far Things are going to get tricky So far, all I have accomplished Is pure research But now, I'll have to start calling people And these are not recruitment calls Which are relatively straightforward On the other hand I am entering pure sales territory Which may not be a big deal For most "normal" people But for someone who is autistic It is a different ballgame altogether In fact, it is like steering a ship Through the Bermuda Triangle And finally The biggest roadblock In my long and treacherous path Is not the candidates Not even the client But my accursed laptop Whose ability to perform under pressure Is even less than that of South Africa In a global cricket tournament
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52
Hypocrite tournament put the hippos in a tourniquet Turnt a bit too turned up Two ton tummies summo wrestling, who will win? Mounted champion munching on mountains: A hypo-hippo-perbole
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 6:17 PM UTC
Hypocrite tournament
The Irish Summer (i.e. when you  only get the sunshine) is a very elusive thing But having lived in Ireland all my life I figured it out many years ago Although there may be some freakish weather events like the occasional heatwave The Irish Summer lasts from the end of the English soccer season to the start of the Wimbledon tennis tournament (when the covers go on) Those few short weeks Then it reverts to being a mixed bag of sunshine and showers So whenever Wimbledon starts up I always get out my thin flimsy shower proof coat It's lovely and light so you won't be sweating And I also have my little umbrella handy too. Now I'm always telling people my theory of the Irish Summer Whether they believe it or not There's a young guy I work with and I told him my theory Then awhile later we had to attend this big work event/meeting It was held in Croke Park (the Gaelic football stadium) in Dublin We were up in the Executive boxes overlooking the pitch, was really cool We had walked there as it wasn't too far from our office I had my showerproof on and had my little umbrella My young workmate was just wearing a black leather jacket and had no umbrella I thought to myself "Man, you're living dangerously" Sure enough when we're walking back to the office The heavens open and it ****** down on us I'm standing there under my umbrella smiling in my showerproof While my young friend is standing there like a drowned rat, the saddest sight And I say to him "What did I say, didn't I tell you about the Irish Summer ?" Then I say "Did you ever read the story of Noah's Ark ?" I felt sorry for him and let him share my umbrella. And the ****** still hasn't bought a showerproof He's impossible.... he's obviously still... a non-believer.
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Nov 18, 2023
Nov 18, 2023 at 2:34 PM UTC
Noah's Ark (The Irish Summer)
The Irish Summer (i.e. when you  only get the sunshine) is a very elusive thing But having lived in Ireland all my life I figured it out many years ago Although there may be some freakish weather events like the occasional heatwave The Irish Summer lasts from the end of the English soccer season to the start of the Wimbledon tennis tournament (when the covers go on) Those few short weeks Then it reverts to being a mixed bag of sunshine and showers So whenever Wimbledon starts up I always get out my thin flimsy shower proof coat It's lovely and light so you won't be sweating And I also have my little umbrella handy too. Now I'm always telling people my theory of the Irish Summer Whether they believe it or not There's a young guy I work with and I told him my theory Then awhile later we had to attend this big work event/meeting It was held in Croke Park (the Gaelic football stadium) in Dublin We were up in the Executive boxes overlooking the pitch, was really cool We had walked there as it wasn't too far from our office I had my showerproof on and had my little umbrella My young workmate was just wearing a black leather jacket and had no umbrella I thought to myself "Man, you're living dangerously" Sure enough when we're walking back to the office The heavens open and it ****** down on us I'm standing there under my umbrella smiling in my showerproof While my young friend is standing there like a drowned rat, the saddest sight And I say to him "What did I say, didn't I tell you about the Irish Summer ?" Then I say "Did you ever read the story of Noah's Ark ?" I felt sorry for him and let him share my umbrella. And the ****** still hasn't bought a showerproof He's impossible.... he's obviously still... a non-believer.
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Abstract blond's reality turned abstract Roma; Beat women win over scientists' flaming fingerprints weapon origins feminine economic women wearing lace knee breeches; violence desert yeh, Satan swallows their bottom winds tiny tournament witch sight poor, saints poor, skin thin, her widescreen walking; Jewish teens drinking spirits began to spread a blanket and take down the facts on audio as entertainment ******* wet track Gothic love gig moves to cool, cool foreign watch is simply corporate leaves & sunny socks, an opposite example of a system, sitting dead, hey, no back after meeting live streets strange **** workout for the goddesses never pointing out porn's bar porridge -At Tina's, laptops are rare medicinal parts,                      non-invisible ****** invisible football;                           We can imagine a straight pid... Isaiah 4:1 King James Version (KJV) 4 [ ]; And in that day seven women shall take hold of one man, saying, We will eat our own bread, and wear our own apparel: only let us be called by thy name, to take away our reproach. blonde bright abstract astonished Rome beat older women scientists flaming fingers hairy economic girls *** dawn violence knee desert Yeh! Satan kissing winds witch competition thin low tone slim vision poor saints skin La Isla teens Jewish wide discernment drank spirited starter planet; super good dug wet track meat wolf love moves to watch just the company of alien cool faces, for example, the system is wet socks sitting drying they do not belong on the counter; on the street lived a strange ***** Iodine without the goddess, u can also show porn's semiconductor *** to the elderly as rare medicines; parts invisible football,         ****** looking there,    I was able Imagine                             |    a straight *****
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Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 8:41 AM UTC
Satan Swallows
Abstract blond's reality turned abstract Roma; Beat women win over scientists' flaming fingerprints weapon origins feminine economic women wearing lace knee breeches; violence desert yeh, Satan swallows their bottom winds tiny tournament witch sight poor, saints poor, skin thin, her widescreen walking; Jewish teens drinking spirits began to spread a blanket and take down the facts on audio as entertainment ******* wet track Gothic love gig moves to cool, cool foreign watch is simply corporate leaves & sunny socks, an opposite example of a system, sitting dead, hey, no back after meeting live streets strange **** workout for the goddesses never pointing out porn's bar porridge -At Tina's, laptops are rare medicinal parts,                      non-invisible ****** invisible football;                           We can imagine a straight pid... Isaiah 4:1 King James Version (KJV) 4 [ ]; And in that day seven women shall take hold of one man, saying, We will eat our own bread, and wear our own apparel: only let us be called by thy name, to take away our reproach. blonde bright abstract astonished Rome beat older women scientists flaming fingers hairy economic girls *** dawn violence knee desert Yeh! Satan kissing winds witch competition thin low tone slim vision poor saints skin La Isla teens Jewish wide discernment drank spirited starter planet; super good dug wet track meat wolf love moves to watch just the company of alien cool faces, for example, the system is wet socks sitting drying they do not belong on the counter; on the street lived a strange ***** Iodine without the goddess, u can also show porn's semiconductor *** to the elderly as rare medicines; parts invisible football,         ****** looking there,    I was able Imagine                             |    a straight *****
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44
These hearts have become racist What used to be kind And all hope to be seen is wasted On the stampeding blind These teeth have become stained What used to be white Has been darkened by the viscera of those consumed by the night These hands have become destroyers Fingers that once saved Equal and human; Clean or depraved These hands have become destroyers I feel you chewing the limb that used to be there Your skin is under my nails You're burning my fingertips And pulling my teeth You strangle me deep among the sea of leaves Flashing advertisements in my eyes, Listening to my every word. You tell me I'm sacrificing for the greater good. But I feel submissive. I feel hateful. You say Eve is the reason for the downfall of mankind. She is nothing but of rib and even bone cracks. Saying this as you dislodge my jawbone. I try to argue with you, but my language is gone. You say that a dog is harmless if surrounded by fence. That the owner of the dog should pay for the fence. That the ***** could **** or produce pups that would **** I am still without words and losing copious amounts of blood. I am poor and no-one will acknowledge my death. I am someone people will forget died and will have to be reminded years from now, during a cook-out or amateur bowling tournament. My legacy is that of failure and being obliterated, justifiably so. These people look to money, to colors on fabric idols, to pages in a book written by share-croppers afraid of flooding. Remove me, so, to remember me for what potential may have existed. Kindly ignore that I never resisted, and that I, the apex of forevers, was always ungrateful. That I conformed and became deeply hateful.
0
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 8:03 PM UTC
America in 4K
These hearts have become racist What used to be kind And all hope to be seen is wasted On the stampeding blind These teeth have become stained What used to be white Has been darkened by the viscera of those consumed by the night These hands have become destroyers Fingers that once saved Equal and human; Clean or depraved These hands have become destroyers I feel you chewing the limb that used to be there Your skin is under my nails You're burning my fingertips And pulling my teeth You strangle me deep among the sea of leaves Flashing advertisements in my eyes, Listening to my every word. You tell me I'm sacrificing for the greater good. But I feel submissive. I feel hateful. You say Eve is the reason for the downfall of mankind. She is nothing but of rib and even bone cracks. Saying this as you dislodge my jawbone. I try to argue with you, but my language is gone. You say that a dog is harmless if surrounded by fence. That the owner of the dog should pay for the fence. That the ***** could **** or produce pups that would **** I am still without words and losing copious amounts of blood. I am poor and no-one will acknowledge my death. I am someone people will forget died and will have to be reminded years from now, during a cook-out or amateur bowling tournament. My legacy is that of failure and being obliterated, justifiably so. These people look to money, to colors on fabric idols, to pages in a book written by share-croppers afraid of flooding. Remove me, so, to remember me for what potential may have existed. Kindly ignore that I never resisted, and that I, the apex of forevers, was always ungrateful. That I conformed and became deeply hateful.
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59
Many lips never gave them any sporting chance, As far as that Championship was concerned. Left they the shores of the country, perchance, To boot their thorny way to a certain end. In the first two games sheer mediocrity Displayed they, finishing both in a draw. Most fans and analysts on their heads heavy Words heaped, saying they'd not get a straw From the tournament. Came the third match, Which they won relievingly, 2-0 was the Score. Coming 2nd in the group they did ****** Scraping a quarter-final berth against the Ivory Coast team, the competition's chief favorite. At this stage all hopes of further advancement, Like mists, vanished. Folks and fans affright Were that the boys against their next opponent-- Even ere they kicked the ball--would surely lose. For how would they face such an assemblage Of stars on parade and prevail! They did cruise To the semi final however by grit and gauge. Like an eagle dear soared they over the Mali Main team too, by 4 goals to 1. When the wind Fiercest is, against thunderstorm, the eagle amazingly Would glide through it. And that was the kind Of spirit the Nigeria Super Eagles possessed that Made them triumph after 19 years at the Africa Cup of Nations over others, when they beat by 1-0 flat In the finals Burkina Faso, despite opposition tough. Pundits and people seldom give us success Chances in life, seeming to have our very fate In their hands. Yet, like daring David did press Forward to confront Goliath great with his faith Firm in God and self, likewise so must every Soul serious and desirous about his destiny do. For no mortal being over our fortune final authority Has on earth. Coach Stephen Keshi and his crew Believed in the players and themselves and went On to lift the Orange Africa Cup in that event.
0
Feb 17, 2013
Feb 17, 2013 at 8:06 AM UTC
The Super Eagles
Many lips never gave them any sporting chance, As far as that Championship was concerned. Left they the shores of the country, perchance, To boot their thorny way to a certain end. In the first two games sheer mediocrity Displayed they, finishing both in a draw. Most fans and analysts on their heads heavy Words heaped, saying they'd not get a straw From the tournament. Came the third match, Which they won relievingly, 2-0 was the Score. Coming 2nd in the group they did ****** Scraping a quarter-final berth against the Ivory Coast team, the competition's chief favorite. At this stage all hopes of further advancement, Like mists, vanished. Folks and fans affright Were that the boys against their next opponent-- Even ere they kicked the ball--would surely lose. For how would they face such an assemblage Of stars on parade and prevail! They did cruise To the semi final however by grit and gauge. Like an eagle dear soared they over the Mali Main team too, by 4 goals to 1. When the wind Fiercest is, against thunderstorm, the eagle amazingly Would glide through it. And that was the kind Of spirit the Nigeria Super Eagles possessed that Made them triumph after 19 years at the Africa Cup of Nations over others, when they beat by 1-0 flat In the finals Burkina Faso, despite opposition tough. Pundits and people seldom give us success Chances in life, seeming to have our very fate In their hands. Yet, like daring David did press Forward to confront Goliath great with his faith Firm in God and self, likewise so must every Soul serious and desirous about his destiny do. For no mortal being over our fortune final authority Has on earth. Coach Stephen Keshi and his crew Believed in the players and themselves and went On to lift the Orange Africa Cup in that event.
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38
It was past 10 pm Indian Standard Time And the score was Two O Five Klusener was the launcher Donald was the Duck Hansie had the fancy That he will lift the cup Seconds ticking One, two, three, four, five… Damien Fleming’s the bowler And he’s known as a troller Windies was the victim Eight years ago Steve Waugh! The man who made Gibbs drop the cup Stood there Like a commander Klusener like a slaughterer Yorker’s the marker To stop the nine runs needed From the Klusener blade NOW THE LAST OVER ONE went for a four TWO went for a four Tensions flared up We are on the proverbial Edge-of-the-seat Steve stood there No expression on his face Hansie's in the pavilion Like a warrior king THE THIRD BALL Damien's running like he do Yes, bang on target Klusener's couldn't get it off Like the way in his earlier knocks off One run needed in three Just a recap again Final over last pair together nine to get in six ***** player of the tournament on strike Successive fours from Lance Klusener and it was one from four ***** Then came the comedy for South Africa uniquely in the game's annals the tragedy of a tie. Moments before it Steve Waugh was As cold as an Iceberg To the Titanic of South Africa (To be continued in next part)
0
Nov 1, 2014
Nov 1, 2014 at 6:31 AM UTC
Epic Waughage - I (Collaboration with the peerless Elizabeth Squires)
HI GUYS AND GALS today i did a tournament of bowling at belconnen bowl, it replaces the usual bowling weekend and my scores were pretty well awesome, well, that is what i think, anyway i got 128 and 157 and 141 and 148 and 138 and 135 and 161 and 127 and 162 and i had few members of my team getting 200 games which was cool, maybe a medal, i don’t know, have to wait and see here is a poem i had fun at bowling it was fun it was fun i had fun at bowling i bowled pretty good i got 23 strikes, which was awesome, dude i got a good number of spares and so many near misses even a dismal 3 near the end but i am happy a very happy chappy bowling was fun, bowling was rad i enjoyed myself today, and i kicked some button yeah bowling, was awesome if you take a look at it bow bow it is fun just bowling my parramatta eels ball down the alley i am not a wally i have no dolly, but i say cool man, i had an awesome day today and everybody looked like having fun you see it is radically awesome to get 23 strikes oh yeah, mate 9.00 SQUAD FIRST GAME 1 X 29 2 X 48 3 9 - 57 4 9 - 66 5 5 3 74 6 7 1 82 7 7 / 101 8 9 - 110 9 8 1 119 10 8 1 128 TOTAL SCORE 128 SECOND GAME 1 X 30 2 X 56 3 X 75 4 6 3 84 5 5 4 93 6 9 / 111 7 8 1 120 8 X 139 9 7 2 148 10 7 2 157 TOTAL SCORE 157 THIRD GAME 1 6 - 6 2 7 2 15 3 X 35 4 9 / 51 5 6 3 60 6 8 / 77 7 7 - 84 8 7 / 104 9 X 124 10 9 / 7 141 TOTAL SCORE 141 10.30 SQUAD FIRST GAME 1 7 2 9 2 7 / 29 3 X 54 4 X 69 5 5 - 74 6 8 1 83 7 X 102 8 8 1 111 9 9 / 131 10 X 7 - 148 TOTAL SCORE 148 SECOND GAME 1 8 / 19 2 9 - 28 3 9 / 46 4 8 / 66 5 X 85 6 9 - 94 7 9 - 103 8 9 - 112 9 X 130 10 8 - 138 THIRD GAME 1 7 / 17 2 7 / 37 3 X 57 4 9 / 71 5 4 5 80 6 9 - 89 7 7 2 98 8 8 1 107 9 8 1 116 10 7 / 9 135 TOTAL SCORE 135 2.00 SQUAD FIRST GAME 1 X 27 2 X 45 3 7 1 53 4 9 / 72 5 9 / 88 6 6 - 94 7 8 / 114 8 X 134 9 9 / 152 10 8 1 161 TOTAL SCORE 161 SECOND GAME 1 X 13 2 3 - 16 3 X 35 4 9 - 44 5 7 2 53 6 9 / 72 7 9 - 81 8 9 / 101 9 X 119 10 7 1 127 TOTAL SCORE 127 THIRD GAME 1 X 20 2 9 / 40 3 X 60 4 9 / 79 5 9 / 96 6 7 / 115 7 9 / 133 8 8 - 141 9 5 - 146 10 6 / 6 162 TOTAL SCORE 162
0
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 3:00 AM UTC
my awesome bowling at the aussie day tournament 23 strikes, etc
HI GUYS AND GALS today i did a tournament of bowling at belconnen bowl, it replaces the usual bowling weekend and my scores were pretty well awesome, well, that is what i think, anyway i got 128 and 157 and 141 and 148 and 138 and 135 and 161 and 127 and 162 and i had few members of my team getting 200 games which was cool, maybe a medal, i don’t know, have to wait and see here is a poem i had fun at bowling it was fun it was fun i had fun at bowling i bowled pretty good i got 23 strikes, which was awesome, dude i got a good number of spares and so many near misses even a dismal 3 near the end but i am happy a very happy chappy bowling was fun, bowling was rad i enjoyed myself today, and i kicked some button yeah bowling, was awesome if you take a look at it bow bow it is fun just bowling my parramatta eels ball down the alley i am not a wally i have no dolly, but i say cool man, i had an awesome day today and everybody looked like having fun you see it is radically awesome to get 23 strikes oh yeah, mate 9.00 SQUAD FIRST GAME 1 X 29 2 X 48 3 9 - 57 4 9 - 66 5 5 3 74 6 7 1 82 7 7 / 101 8 9 - 110 9 8 1 119 10 8 1 128 TOTAL SCORE 128 SECOND GAME 1 X 30 2 X 56 3 X 75 4 6 3 84 5 5 4 93 6 9 / 111 7 8 1 120 8 X 139 9 7 2 148 10 7 2 157 TOTAL SCORE 157 THIRD GAME 1 6 - 6 2 7 2 15 3 X 35 4 9 / 51 5 6 3 60 6 8 / 77 7 7 - 84 8 7 / 104 9 X 124 10 9 / 7 141 TOTAL SCORE 141 10.30 SQUAD FIRST GAME 1 7 2 9 2 7 / 29 3 X 54 4 X 69 5 5 - 74 6 8 1 83 7 X 102 8 8 1 111 9 9 / 131 10 X 7 - 148 TOTAL SCORE 148 SECOND GAME 1 8 / 19 2 9 - 28 3 9 / 46 4 8 / 66 5 X 85 6 9 - 94 7 9 - 103 8 9 - 112 9 X 130 10 8 - 138 THIRD GAME 1 7 / 17 2 7 / 37 3 X 57 4 9 / 71 5 4 5 80 6 9 - 89 7 7 2 98 8 8 1 107 9 8 1 116 10 7 / 9 135 TOTAL SCORE 135 2.00 SQUAD FIRST GAME 1 X 27 2 X 45 3 7 1 53 4 9 / 72 5 9 / 88 6 6 - 94 7 8 / 114 8 X 134 9 9 / 152 10 8 1 161 TOTAL SCORE 161 SECOND GAME 1 X 13 2 3 - 16 3 X 35 4 9 - 44 5 7 2 53 6 9 / 72 7 9 - 81 8 9 / 101 9 X 119 10 7 1 127 TOTAL SCORE 127 THIRD GAME 1 X 20 2 9 / 40 3 X 60 4 9 / 79 5 9 / 96 6 7 / 115 7 9 / 133 8 8 - 141 9 5 - 146 10 6 / 6 162 TOTAL SCORE 162
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136
come to me, my beloveds with long nails and squinting eyes, spare neither claw or hook, delve and devolve, critique and solve the words of this prophet scribbled on plastic bus seats give me my due, my comeuppance, my downfalls will me to be better or worse if that be betterment so eagerly will embrace, grasp, insert your benailing fingers, soften, grasp, repoint thy claws taking thy earnest joy at pain inflicted as my own as long as you dare just say something! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A bus poem in honor of my invitation   my digital birthing April 8th, 2015
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May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
Consider these words, an invitational tournament
Oh baby, prepare yourself for a fitting tribute at the hands of my lyrical ability. I will rhyme effectively much as a successful sportsman might employ his talents in order to win a tournament of some kind. Indeed, my mastery of rhythm and rhyme will be such that you will find yourself very powerfully attracted to me. Girl, you put me in mind of a famous celebrity noted for her physical beauty. If you were, let's say, a car, you would be a really good car. The sort of car I would wish to own and drive. Not convinced? Then let me assure you that I can easily put paid to my rivals by deploying the linguistic and musical prowess which I believe I mentioned above. Oh yeah. Incidentally, I would think nothing of expending quite considerable sums on nice things to give you. That would be nice, wouldn't it? So, baby, if these enticements are sufficient to stir your interest in me then I would be delighted to exchange contact details or something. Oh yeah.  Get down.
0
Mar 4, 2011
Mar 4, 2011 at 4:23 AM UTC
Ineffectual Hip-Hop