Too much excitement, I can't keep up
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How good is the Wall after a 1st round loss?
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Wut? Answering your own questions? Odd at the least.
Or, in true 'pen conspiracy fashion..... Did you forget to switch accounts?Originally posted by jism
I saw Reynolds crying in front of me after the game and yelled out 'WHAT ARE YOU CRYING ABOUT?!?!? GO SAY SORRY TO COOPER YOU GRUB!!!' He looked up at me with a pretty broken looking face.
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Originally posted by King Salvo View PostThe wall from the old days was really something to behold win lose or draw- made many agreements to meet up at Roosters home games some did most didn't as how would you approach it - ask someone if they were on the wall - most likely get a punch in the face in them days.
..it’ll be interesting to see
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Originally posted by The Skeez View PostHa!!! Thanks Pomeroy
Nah, why have two accounts? No need
WTF, Pomeroy? Why are you calling me an apple?Originally posted by jism
I saw Reynolds crying in front of me after the game and yelled out 'WHAT ARE YOU CRYING ABOUT?!?!? GO SAY SORRY TO COOPER YOU GRUB!!!' He looked up at me with a pretty broken looking face.
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Lots of people on here need to read some Kipling. If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too. If 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: If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster, And treat those two impostors just the same; If 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: If you can make a 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; If 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!" If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If 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!
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