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Ranting and raving
#1
Hey! If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I'd like Mike Tomlin, the steAlers head coach, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Art Rooney Lane, with all the other steAler fans and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is! Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?
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Deceitful, two-faced she-woman. Never trust a female, Delmar, remember that one simple precept and your time with me will not have been ill spent.

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#2
(12-06-2017, 05:07 PM)BengalHawk62 Wrote: Hey! If any of you are looking for any last-minute gift ideas for me, I have one. I'd like Mike Tomlin, the steAlers head coach, right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Art Rooney Lane, with all the other steAler fans and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is! Hallelujah! Holy shit! Where's the Tylenol?

Mike Brown to a Bengals fan: "Son, we live in a world that has games, and those games have to be played by men with skills. Who's gonna do it? You? You, Shake N Bake? I have a greater responsibility than you could possibly fathom. You weep for the offensive line and you curse the Steelers. You have that luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know; that o-line's play, while tragic, probably has not lost some games. And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, *wins games*. You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about at tailgate parties, you want me in that front office. You need me in that front office. We use words like honor, journalistic jargon, and loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent playing something. You use them as a punchline. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very team that I provide, and then questions the manner in which I provide it! I would rather you just said "thank you" and went on your way, Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a ball and play a postion. Either way, I don't give a *damn* what you think you are entitled to!"
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