FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! (nanny complete sentence afterthought)

[miiila]

I don’t like pink much, but I might have liked a not pink t-shirt.
Anyone reading who can tell us what colour their shirt is?

[emmaki]

I don’t like pink much, but I might have liked a not pink t-shirt.

Anyone reading who can tell us what colour their shirt is?

Anyone reading who can tell us what colour their shirt is?

Yes, owners of this mythical t-shirt, show us that it exists! Also, whether it is made from quality materials or a shoddy knock-off from some third-world sweatshop that fell apart after just one cycle in the washing machine.

[saddu_writer]

I guess one ingredient is missing in this Thread to start a fight…😉

[blaisefaint]

The Missing Ingredient:

• Ketchup
• Mustard
• Mayonnaise
• Salsa
• Quinoa
• Whatever Emmaki Says…

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[emmaki]

Come on then, I’ll 'ave the lot of ya!

Missing ingredient: an opponent.

Sadly, one very good opponent has been banned for racism, and others are ignoring me. 😦

[miiila]

It’s Saturday, even most sellers who usually post on BR are sleeping. All quiet. I’m sleeping too, really.

[emmaki]

It’s Saturday, even most sellers who usually post on BR are sleeping. All quiet. I’m sleeping too, really.

Then I will fight on the bed! With my secret weapon!

[miiila]

👀

I know the are alarm clocks you can throw against the wall, we’ll you can any but you get my point, but that…

I’d like to see the sales numbers for that one.

[emmaki]

👀

I know the are alarm clocks you can throw against the wall, we’ll you can any but you get my point, but that…

I’d like to see the sales numbers for that one.

You have to make it. Here’s the full video!

[miiila]

I’ll see if Findus has a fiverr custom gig and ask him to build me one.

[misscrystal]

Then I will fight on the bed! With my secret weapon!

That is exactly what it felt like at 9 A.M. this morning when the knock on the door came and I was in the middle of the deepest sleep with a beautiful dream. I don’t go to sleep until around 5 A.M. I need to put a sign on the door do not disturb.

[saddu_writer]

Come on then, I’ll 'ave the lot of ya!

Missing ingredient: an opponent.

Sadly, one very good opponent has been banned for racism, and others are ignoring me. 😦

banned for racism

WHOOOOOO Is that? Am I missing something?😮

[emmaki]

banned for racism

WHOOOOOO Is that? Am I missing something?😮

He wasn’t very relaxed, let’s just leave it at that.

[saddu_writer]

He wasn’t very relaxed, let’s just leave it at that.

but the one that has potential, is acting really hard to ignore you.😂 Lets see how long he can maintain it

[misscrystal]

I used to have a cat that would walk back and forth across my face in the mornings to wake me up.

[saddu_writer]

I used to have a cat that would walk back and forth across my face in the mornings to wake me up.

Why Past tense? Where is it now?

[saddu_writer]

You have to make it. Here’s the full video!

If there is something that would wake me up like this, I will destroy it with a nuclear bomb.

[fonthaunt]

Anyone reading who can tell us what colour their shirt is?

Yes, owners of this mythical t-shirt, show us that it exists! Also, whether it is made from quality materials or a shoddy knock-off from some third-world sweatshop that fell apart after just one cycle in the washing machine.

owners of this mythical t-shirt, show us that it exists!

I would show you my shirt, but I wanted to join the fight thread carefully, so I started a fight with my pink shirt. It is now in tatters like the American flag that hung in the rockets red glare.

That story was a lie if anyone wants to fight with me about it. I was a victim of the $25 donation scandal and am still shirtless. I mean, I have a shirt ON but it’s teal. I hate pink anyway. Still want my pink shirt.

[emmaki]

owners of this mythical t-shirt, show us that it exists!

I would show you my shirt, but I wanted to join the fight thread carefully, so I started a fight with my pink shirt. It is now in tatters like the American flag that hung in the rockets red glare.

That story was a lie if anyone wants to fight with me about it. I was a victim of the $25 donation scandal and am still shirtless. I mean, I have a shirt ON but it’s teal. I hate pink anyway. Still want my pink shirt.

Interesting. So no t-shirt, no badge and no idea where the donations went.

Isn’t there a term for this sort of behavior? It’s certainly not very ethical…

[blaisefaint]

Dear Emmaki:

Aha! Our second official Forum fight!

Only a benighted fool would use MS Word as their text editor!

Saracen pig!

Spartan dog!

I use Notepad++!

I spit on Bill Gates and his misbegotten Microsoft Office!

Ptui!

Once again, I find myself tired of winning!

I hereby declare victory!

USA! USA! USA!

Thank you for handing me such an easy victory,
Blaise

POLL: The winner of the Battle of the Century Round 2: Electric Boogalo

• Emmaki
• Blaise
• Greece
• The UK
• The Netherlands
• American Samoa
• Freedonia
• 'Murica!

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[emmaki]

Dear Emmaki:

Aha! Our second official Forum fight!

Only a benighted fool would use MS Word as their text editor!

Saracen pig!

Spartan dog!

I use Notepad++!

I spit on Bill Gates and his misbegotten Microsoft Office!

Ptui!

Once again, I find myself tired of winning!

I hereby declare victory!

USA! USA! USA!

Thank you for handing me such an easy victory,

Blaise

POLL: The winner of the Battle of the Century Round 2: Electric Boogalo

• Emmaki
• Blaise
• Greece
• The UK
• The Netherlands
• American Samoa
• Freedonia
• 'Murica!

0voters

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Very well, Blaise. If you want a war, you shall have one.

As God is my witness, you shall suffer a resounding defeat along with a certain level personal discomfort in the next round.

You’ll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life

[blaisefaint]

along with a certain level personal discomfort

Dear Emmaki:

Clearly you meant to write “along with a certain level OF personal discomfort” here, so since I corrected you by adding “OF”, I enjoy yet another resounding victory, which I choose to celebrate with this original poem:

Of you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

Of you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

Of you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

Of you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

Of you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

Of you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

Of you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

Of you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

Of you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

Of you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

Of neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

Of all men count with you, but none too much;

Of you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Thank you again,

Blaise

[emmaki]

along with a certain level personal discomfort

Dear Emmaki:

Clearly you meant to write “along with a certain level OF personal discomfort” here, so since I corrected you by adding “OF”, I enjoy yet another resounding victory, which I choose to celebrate with this original poem:

Of you can keep your head when all about you

Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,

Of you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,

But make allowance for their doubting too;

Of you can wait and not be tired by waiting,

Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,

Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,

And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

Of you can dream—and not make dreams your master;

Of you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;

Of you can meet with Triumph and Disaster

And treat those two impostors just the same;

Of you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken

Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,

Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,

And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

Of you can make one heap of all your winnings

And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,

And lose, and start again at your beginnings

And never breathe a word about your loss;

Of you can force your heart and nerve and sinew

To serve your turn long after they are gone,

And so hold on when there is nothing in you

Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

Of you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,

Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,

Of neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,

Of all men count with you, but none too much;

Of you can fill the unforgiving minute

With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,

Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,

And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Thank you again,

Blaise

I will let you claim this phyrric victory. I won’t even mention that your poem is clearly plagiarized, and that it is entirely redundant, as I am a woman and a daughter.

See how easily I’m letting you off here? Why, it’s almost like I missed a word out just to entrap you in my dastardly web of intrigue, letting you leap on what appeared to be a foolish typo when it was, in fact, a masterstroke of strategy.

[blaisefaint]

Dear Emmaki:

When you’re right, you’re right.

I was completely in the wrong here.

I’m so ashamed and abashed.

I would slightly disagree about the plagiarism, because “If” by Rudyard Kipling is in the public domain, and I did transform it into a completely new work.

I’d be interested to know your opinion about another piece of mine, which takes a lyric about sight and transforms it into a lyric about touch.

Much like “Of”, it’s eerily similar but completely different.

I lay myself prostrate, completely at your mercy.

Sincerely,
Blaise

Intangible

He doesn’t feel the hairs on the back of his neck
Rise whenever you’re near
He’ll never have goosebumps
Just because you’re in the room.

I’ve got a feelin’ I can’t quite place – in my heart in my mind
At the base of my spine.
It’s intangible
It’s you.

I just want you to feel me
The way I feel you
But you never seem to touch me
How I want you to
It’s intangible
It’s you.
Reach out and touch me
Let me touch you
Let’s make it wonderful
Incredible,
Real
Instead of just intangible.

I’ve got a fire inside me
You lit a fire that burns me
There’s no fire inside him
Your prospects are grim.

And all my feelings tell me that if I could make you feel me
Our touch would resonate for eternity

I just want you to feel me
The way I feel you
But you never seem to touch me
How I want you to
It’s intangible
It’s you.
Reach out and touch me
Let me touch you
Let’s make it wonderful
Incredible,
Real
Instead of just intangible.

Like aftershocks of an old tremblor
Oh, we’re intangible
I just want to reach out
And make you touch me.

I just want you to feel me
The way I feel you
But you never seem to touch me
How I want you to
It’s intangible
It’s you.
Reach out and touch me
Let me touch you
Let’s make it wonderful
Incredible,
Real
Instead of just intangible.

He’ll never rock your world
The way you shatter mine.

[jamesbulls]