Hall of Fame

also.........

my annual post of the greatest xmas story ever. worth the read for you newbz, enjoy.. uncle beards _____________ 'Twas the Fight before Christmas by Rick Reilly, Sports Illustrated You can take all your Tiny Tims and your Grinches and your Miracles on Whatever Street and stuff them in your stocking. The best Christmas story is about a boxer. It starts the day in 1918 when a doctor tells a slender heavyweight named Billy Miske that his bum kidneys give him five years to live, if he's lucky. Turns out he's dying of Bright's disease. This comes as rotten news to Billy, who's only 24 years old and not half bad in the ring. He's good enough to fight guys like future light heavyweight champ Harry Greb twice to 10-round draws, which is sort of like tying with a twister. Still, the doc says if Billy's smart, he'll find a comfortable couch and retire right now. Problem is, almost nobody but Billy knows he's up to his ears in debt, being $100,000 in the hole because the car distributorship he operates in St. Paul doesn't distribute near enough cars. Billy's weakness as a salesman is that he's too trusting. He keeps counting on his friends to pay up, and mostly they don't. So Billy keeps the kidney news to himself and decides to continue fighting and paying what he owes. In fact, Billy fights 30 more times after the doc's death sentence, including bust-ups with guys like Tommy Gibbons, who was knocked out only one time in his career, and three dances with Jack Dempsey, once for the title in 1920. Dempsey hits people only slightly harder than a bus, and in that title bout he belts Billy once so flush in the heart that Billy goes down for a nine count. In those nine seconds a purple welt the size of a baseball pops up on Billy's chest, scaring Dempsey half to death. But then Billy himself pops up, wanting more. Dempsey knocks him clean out less than a minute later, this time with an anvil to the jaw, as Dempsey is trying to get the fight over before one of them faints, maybe Dempsey. "I was afraid I'd killed him," Dempsey says afterward, but Billy's kidneys are doing a good job of that all by themselves. By the fall of 1923, Billy is dying fast. He looks like a broomstick on a diet. He's too weak to work out, much less prizefight. The only thing thinner than Billy's arms is his wallet. He hasn't had a bout since January, which is trouble, because Christmas is coming up hard. Well, Billy isn't about to face his wife, Marie, and their three young kids, Billy Jr., Douglas and Donna, tapped out for his last Christmas, so he goes to his longtime manager, Jack Reddy, and asks him for one last fight. Reddy says no chance. "I don't like to say this," Reddy tells him, "but if you went in the ring now, in your condition, you might get killed." "What's the difference?" Billy answers. "It's better than waiting for it in a rocking chair." Reddy chews on that for a while and comes up with a proposition: "Do one thing for me. Go to the gym, start working out, and let's see if you can get into some kind of condition. Then we'll talk." Billy says no can do. He says there's no way he can work out. He says he's got one last fight in him, and maybe not even that. A softie, Reddy arranges a Nov. 7 bout in Omaha against a brawler named Bill Brennan, who went 12 rounds with Dempsey and is still meaner than 10 miles in brand-new shoes. True to his word, Billy doesn't get any nearer the gym than his aspirin bottle. He stays in hiding, slurping bowls of chicken soup and boiled fish, and rarely making it out of bed. But he turns up in Omaha on the appointed night, survives four rounds with Brennan and cashes a check for $2,400. That check buys the best Christmas the Miskes ever have. The kids come flying downstairs in the morning to a Christmas tree, a toy train, a baby-grand piano and presents stacked higher than they can reach. They eat like Rockefellers and sing like angels and laugh all day. Do you know, the only smile bigger in Minneapolis that day than the ones on the faces of those three Miske kids is on Billy's mug. The next morning Billy calls Reddy and whispers, "Come and get me, Jack. I'm dying." Reddy rushes Billy to St. Mary's Hospital, but the doctors can't do a thing. On New Year's Day 1924, Billy, 29, dies of kidney failure. That's it, really. Except that if you ever pass through Omaha and run into an old-timer, ask him about the prizefight that day, the one that gave Billy Miske the finish he wanted, the one he won in four rounds, over Bill Brennan, by a knockout.

If by "everything" you mean being a herbie little online cunt who cries about getting negaprops, well yeah you are better than everyone else because I've never seen anyone get so butt hurt over that shit. Merry Christmas you fucking cunt. Cry about it. Merry Christmas 12oz, I banned this faggot. My reason for banning him "You're a rusty twat that needs to be put down."

thought id share some bored lecture doodles, got loads more in my notes somewhere im feelin that goat

been a while but heres a quick one from a few days ago... did this weather report this stuff.. went and got this people came to kick it the girls seem to like there hula hoops stationary moer

Merry Christmas & alluhthat.

christmas morning bloody mary. yup.

Kollektiv Turmstrasse from Hamburg, Germany. Live Set Promo 2 on soundcloud.com It's over a year old actually, but a really good mix none the less! and here is a rather nice video clip of the first song in the mix on youtube. enjoy! MODERAT (Modeselector & Apparat) from Berlin, Germany. A New Error on soundcloud.com You will really want to turn the volume up, believe me. There's nice HD footage of them performing the song live in Montreal . *

dont contaminate a merry christmas thread with your homosexual stalking attempts towards yours truly. didnt your mom tell you that if youre not asleep early enough, santa wont bring you the ecko unlimited shirt you wanted for christmas? the girls asleep and im drinking. go beat off to pictures ive posted of the girls ive fucked this last month in smash or trash you homo.

merry christmas.

Frosted mug style. Was good. Brussel sprouts, garlic, sage leaf, bacon and lemon juice. Surprisingly good. Been a minute since I made this. Salmon with chili cucumber salad. So damn good. I am happy.

Waffle maker was the best Christmas present ever...

too drunk to read that.

First, I was like Then, I was like

IDK I GUESS REALLY BAD DIARRHEA.

.....>U ..........T2K

It's a good one to keep in mind if you're considering going down on a girl with a side of sliced Boar's Head between her legs...

false illusion?nah. all graffiti is art,but just like everything else,theres certain levels to it. dont get pissy if we bumped you off your little rowing boat. im done with the little discussion we're having.dont wanna fuck with the threads improvement.

Merry Christmas Bore! You're missed! Holiday On Dope.

Are you 12-16 years old? DUB GAY TRANNIES are WACK! And they'll tell on you too. Figure it out.

:cool: :cool: :cool:

bump for crits

can any1 from wkt pm me yall know whats goin on w/ my homie, & aint done shit? do yall realize how much shit hes gone thru on the daily for being a local repping ur crew? keep it real, most of yall come from more finnancialy stable backgrounds than any of these working class sf minority kids, so how come yall cant help him out after hes been stubbornly holdin ur shit down for hella long? despite me being a native, & having funked w/ outtatowners before, ive never been the type to hate JUST cause some1 aint from my city. BUT TELL ME, why are only his LOCAL homies showin him any support? what happened to being well-rounded solid niggas with integrity & principles? cant even give the nigga a fukin phone call? not even 20 fukin measely dollars?! Holdin it down for ur homies is the most basic aspect of being a solid nigga, so until yall can do that, quit sayin nigga, & quit trynna act hard. yall some fuckin j-cats (minus a couple of und cats that have shown concern). i could give a fuck about ur graff, im talkin on ur character as people. if ur gonna be part of a rebellious, underground culture, get rid of ur selfish, mainstream mentalities. i swear he better drop that shit when he gets out. & i swear if it was yall starting that shit w/ dase recently..

Made U Look Thread: ATT Thread :

not that anyone checks but i'd say Bojangles wins the Untitled section's poster of the year award..

for the homie

the ghost of attachment past.... I miss him too.

fuck. sometimes i hate living here. fuckin hipsters everywhere.

that is quite possibly the definition of stealth.

THAT SHIT looks like it says "GARBAGE" seriously? find me 20 world wide graff bombers that have ill throwys and have bombed all different places of the world and lets take a poll to see if any 1 of them appreciate this throw up. this shit is str8 waste of TIME, like stay yo ass at home and watch Judge Joe Brown or some shit why risk gettin bagged to write when you cant? at least money reps a crue that represents his style...Jussaying.

thanks.

shit yeah big up to the oontzers, funny off the eggnog.

oh hey guys. ive been verbally buttfucked by 90% of this graffiti forum. even after ive been exposed for my whiny pms to mods about my "unwarranted" tampons i pretend i dont care about getting, im still in here tryna get some attention from mostly dudes. ill even toss in a few comments about how 12oz sucks, and how my made up girlfriend hates having anal sex. not to mention, my extreme dislike for wrongly set internet clocks. oh, and my extreme paranoia about some online br0s "bashing me" in real life. yours truly, -seriousone. better luck in 2011, faggot.

Yelling, Smelling, and Telling.

Rhode Island Party Thread Tresixo getting brokebacked DAO photoshop thread ORLY thread jumping the shark

You made me laugh. I'll revise posts to sound more like a female. just kidding!

User Most Likely To Get A Wu-Tang Tattoo: .......... is......

stop snitchin, and both of you shut the fuck up.