That's fine for Saturday thru Thursday, but Friday nights are for running up the score.Dr_Phibes wrote:With less scoring comes more release when it does go in
![Image](http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v437/Crown35/fu.jpg)
Moderator: Jesus H Christ
That's fine for Saturday thru Thursday, but Friday nights are for running up the score.Dr_Phibes wrote:With less scoring comes more release when it does go in
Donovan also didn't know it was possible to finish a big game without barfing all over the field.MgoBlue-LightSpecial wrote:Yeah, it happens sooooo often in football Donovan McNabb didn't even know it was possible.
Your point wasn't the frequency of occurrence, but its possibility, since...MgoBlue-LightSpecial wrote:Yeah, it happens sooooo often in football Donovan McNabb didn't even know it was possible.
Ergo, football & hockey, by your definition, are fundamentally flawed. Unlike basketball & baseball, which are, of course, flawless.you wrote:any sport that can end in a scoreless tie is fundamentally flawed
They're at a soccer game. How else are they going to entertain themselves?Wolfman wrote:Yes, I guess I'd rather hear a bunch of drunken Krauts/Aussies singing songs than stupid horns blaring.
Right. Because soccer yobs are real patient, deep thinkers.Dr_Phibes wrote:True, it doesn't suit a short attention span.
Screw_Michigan wrote: ↑Fri Apr 05, 2019 4:39 pmUnlike you tards, I actually have functioning tastebuds and a refined pallet.
That must explain why SoccerHooligan is incapable of going two seconds without blaring one of these like a belligerent monkey.it doesn't suit a short attention span.
Yeah, unlike you, those young renaissance men don't just talk about committing genocide and stuffing hand grenades down peoples shirts - they're actually out in the street making things happen. After a hard days drinking twenty pints and glassing people in the face, they probably go home and cook a fairly decent shepherd's pie.mvscal wrote:
Right. Because soccer yobs are real patient, deep thinkers.
No, they aren't. They swill cheap lager till they puke on their shoes then they pile out into the streets to tip over cars, set fire to rubbish bins and get their skulls cracked by riot police.Dr_Phibes wrote:Yeah, unlike you, those young renaissance men don't just talk about committing genocide and stuffing hand grenades down peoples shirts - they're actually out in the street making things happen.
Screw_Michigan wrote: ↑Fri Apr 05, 2019 4:39 pmUnlike you tards, I actually have functioning tastebuds and a refined pallet.
JPGettysburg wrote: ↑Fri Jul 19, 2024 8:57 pm In prison, full moon nights have a kind of brutal sodomy that can't fully be described with mere words.
Joe in PB wrote: Yeah I'm the dumbass
schmick, speaking about Larry Nassar's pubescent and prepubescent victims wrote: They couldn't even kick that doctors ass
Seems they rather just lay there, get fucked and play victim
Carson wrote:RACK any and all Devo resets.
King Crimson wrote:anytime you have a smoke tunnel and it's not Judas Priest in the mid 80's....watch out.
mvscal wrote:France totally kicks ass.
Joe in PB wrote: Yeah I'm the dumbass
schmick, speaking about Larry Nassar's pubescent and prepubescent victims wrote: They couldn't even kick that doctors ass
Seems they rather just lay there, get fucked and play victim
Nishlord wrote:Hey, Sakhah-haters: It's over. Not only does more of the world actually watch the Champions League final than flick over to see which octogenarian bands are playing the Super Bowl, but more Americans are watching an actual sport than witnessing the charade of inverted hoopla.
Pathetic little man. I've left more intelligent and original things on your mother's face. Now this is a match report;ucantdoitdoggieSTyle2 wrote:Nishlord wrote:Hey, Sakhah-haters: It's over. Not only does more of the world actually watch the Champions League final than flick over to see which octogenarian bands are playing the Super Bowl, but more Americans are watching an actual sport than witnessing the charade of inverted hoopla.
Your link includes Univision viewers. I wonder how many "Americans" you speak of are not illegals.
Soccer is popular. We get it. Now run along to the orthodontist and see if he can do anything about your misshapen chronic halitosis cum dumster.
EVER EMINENT ENGLAND THRASH AND TAN THE PRESUMPTUOUS UPTURNED HIDES OF USA UPSTARTS 1-1
And so, in the first match of this World Cup, England was obliged to undergo the ritual of raising its mailed hand and smiting the insolent opponent. Tonight, it was the United States Of America, temporarily absconded from the Empire, who dared once more to pit themselves against the inevitable. There America sits, faraway, very much on the wrong side of Bayswater, like a giant, veiny, spotted, superfatted arse hanging over the trousers of humanity. A country that believes that a tube and a bucket are, respectively, the appropriate receptacles for cheese and chicken. A country that persists with the obdurate belief that words should be written as pronounced, a philosophy that would have my old army lieutenant (note the “f”) Ralph Featherstonehaugh-Brough (pronounced, of course, “Johnson”) turning in his grave, or as the Americans would doubtless have it, “grayv”. Memo to Americans: You benighted people were put on this earth to serve the English language, not for it to serve you. A country also which has visited upon the world a garish tradition of cinematic picture films, designed needlessly to inflame and over-excite the populace. This, we could have done without, of course. British cinema was quite exciting and diverting enough, thank you Mr Cagney, as 1930s black and white masterpieces such as It Happened In Dorchester, Brief Handshake and Oh! What A Piccaninny attest, made in gayer, less queer times.
Such were the cultural forces ranged against us on this African night, in which, as at Rorke's Drift, we were outnumbered on all sides by a chanting crowd. But our determination to defend the supply station of our goals tally was writ in the faces of our players, every man Jack of them. The National Anthems were the proof of the thing. Our own, of course was delivered by Frank Lampard in particular with more energy than he would subsequently devote to the game – an admirable sense of priority. Its imaginative brass section stands as a reproach to the likes of Mr Louis Armstrong and his dissonant jazz cohorts as to what you can really do with a trumpet when you get to work. As for the American anthem it wended its way like a bedraggled US army division marching around in circles finding itself back where they started out. (“What the hell does it mean, turn 'right'? What's that word? 'Riggit'? Why didn't they just write 'rite'?”). “Home of the brave”? Indeed it was the home of the brave, and indeed the squaw, until you people rather rudely barged them aside.
There was some doubt that the USA would be persuaded to join in with the World Cup at all, and that it might be necessary to bomb a portion of their navy in order for them to do so. However, if history teaches us one thing it is the Americans will involve themselves when a) The English have been doing so for some time and b) The English have built up such a decisive lead that victory is inevitable. And so it was this evening. Only once England had gone a goal up, setting a seal of certainly upon the tie, did America begin to play. At this point, I invite readers to play a diverting parlour game called “Create Your Pornography Star Name”. It is quite simple. Take the first name of an American football player. Then take his surname. And there you have it. “Clint Dempsey”, “Landon Donovan”. Such uproarious juxtapositions.
As for England, we played the game at our usual, fevered tempo – hitting the ball to one another fast and through the air, as befits our elevated status, not along the ground, in the grovelling, lowly manner of the foreigner. We controlled midfield, even if we were not necessarily there in person – sometimes, an abstract sense of authority is enough. Mr James Milner showed why his is among the first names on the team sheet. There is very little truth at all in the assertion that we'd have been better off placing a side of fucking beef in the centre circle and hoping the ball bounced off it now and again. David Beckham and Wayne Rooney were among the interested spectators.
There was, however, a most unpleasant diplomatic incident shortly before half time. A speculative shot from one of the American players – his name escapes me, let us call him “Raging Hardon” for the sake of argument – fell with due obedience into the hands of English goalkeeper Robert Green. He, however, in one of those rare mishaps to which even English goalkeepers have once or twice in history been prone, spilt the ball and allowed it to trickle over the line. Now, there should have been no question of allowing the goal to stand. As any English jury would agree, it was clearly the goalkeeper's intention to gather up the ball and then kick it back into play. What possible motive, unless he had turned in the manner of Benedict Arnold, would he have had deliberately to throw the ball into his own net? It was clearly a case of unintentional ball to hand. That the officials, all foreigners, despite my own protests, were obtuse enough to allow the goal to stand is of no matter. The Americans, as gentlemen, should have waived it. But then, the clue is in the word “American”. Instead, these curs wheeled away in celebration of their “goal”. The USA President, “Mr” Obama, shall be summoned to London by the FA to explain himself.
Having doubtless once more sent out Signor Capello, our mascot, to jump up and down to keep the photographers amused while the serious business was being conducted indoors, we regathered our forces and seized control of the game in the second half. We invented the game, you know – to my mind, we ought to start charging other countries for playing it. That, however, is a debate for another day. As the the whistle blew on another moral victory for England, thoughts turned to the current oil crisis, which has seen an entire coastline go minstrel, thanks to the bungling of American companies entrusted with the maintenance of British interests in the region. As team Captain, John Terry should be dispatched to explain our terms. Unless the last drop of oil is wrung from every last cormorant and returned forthwith, in canisters, to the United Kingdom, then hostilities, which in 1776 ceased to my mind prematurely, will be resumed immediately. Those jazz-crazed, hamburger-addled Americans will soon stop snapping their fingers in that louche fashion of theirs when they catch sight of Mr Terry, the determined glint in his eye, the aspect of his demeanour, the chiselled resolve of his upturned chin, his chest, his thighs. If you are going to punish us for our spillages, we will certainly punish you for yours...
Mom smack. Great. The last time I get done fucking your mom in her other stinkhole, I whipped it out and shot a massive load into her colostomy bag. Which she then let marinate for 3 weeks before using it as mouthwash.Nishlord wrote:Pathetic little man. I've left more intelligent and original things on your mother's face.
Felix wrote:you've become very bitter since you became jewish......
Kierland drop-kicking Wolftard wrote: Aren’t you part of the silent generation?
Why don’t you just STFU.
'got done', you cretin.ucantdoitdoggieSTyle2 wrote:Mom smack. Great. The last time I get done fucking your mom in her other stinkhole, I whipped it out and shot a massive load into her colostomy bag. Which she then let marinate for 3 weeks before using it as mouthwash.Nishlord wrote:Pathetic little man. I've left more intelligent and original things on your mother's face.
And we still couldn't care less. We would mop the floor with your lot if our best athletes chose to play soccer.Nishlord wrote:Your boys are fucking good this year.
Screw_Michigan wrote: ↑Fri Apr 05, 2019 4:39 pmUnlike you tards, I actually have functioning tastebuds and a refined pallet.
JPGettysburg wrote: ↑Fri Jul 19, 2024 8:57 pm In prison, full moon nights have a kind of brutal sodomy that can't fully be described with mere words.
"Good"?Nishlord wrote:Your boys are fucking good this year.
they're coached by bob bradley. can we go draw with fucking algeria now, svp?Nishlord wrote:Your boys are fucking good this year.
Except for the first 30 minutes of every game.Nishlord wrote:Your boys are fucking good this year.
They're not better than the refs.Nishlord wrote:Your boys are fucking good this year.
ELIMINATED*If you qualify and England don't
King Crimson wrote:anytime you have a smoke tunnel and it's not Judas Priest in the mid 80's....watch out.
mvscal wrote:France totally kicks ass.
you're eliminating the british for using british english?PSUFAN wrote:ELIMINATED*If you qualify and England don't
88 wrote:Go Coogs' (Regular Season Total Points Champ)