Juggernaut GO
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« Reply #150 on: August 21, 2010, 01:27:09 pm » |
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And chris, yeah i did, remind me again what you won besides the door prize at a myriad
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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Demonic Attorney
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« Reply #151 on: August 21, 2010, 04:14:21 pm » |
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« Last Edit: August 21, 2010, 04:30:20 pm by Demonic Attorney »
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« Reply #152 on: August 21, 2010, 04:36:45 pm » |
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All I see is a bunch of 3-0-2's at an ELD tournament (lol) and a couple splits with control slaver. Not impressive. Why don't we make a bet for Waterbury, whoever has the most points at the end of the tournament (not just swiss) wins. I say If I end up with a better record then you, I get to maybe, moderate the mana drain for 1 day. If I lose, well, let the players decide. I'm sure people on this forum can think of something creative. The question is do you have the balls to take the bet?
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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Demonic Attorney
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« Reply #153 on: August 21, 2010, 06:01:49 pm » |
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Travis, the problem with your terms is this. In the spirit of reciprocity, I would want to take on your duties and functions for a day if I won. And honestly, I am genuinely concerned that I might not be up to the task. And I fear for the fate of the world if it should turn out that I'm not.
Your busy schedule is packed full of vital functions and important services upon which our community depends. I'm not entirely sure what a day in the life of Travis LaPlante is really like, but I'll paint as vivid a mental picture of my efforts to follow in your footsteps as possible:
I awaken at the bottom of a pile of refuse, empty beer cans, dirty clothes, old pizza boxes, and sticky, soiled Kleenex at the crack of noon. Dazed, I squint as my vision focuses on the ceiling, the events of the previous evening not quite coming into focus. I stumble out of bed, and immediately I'm face to face with one of the dozens of calendars posted on the walls throughout the residence. They're all from the year 2005. The year of Our Lord, Two Thousand and Five. Philosophers say that death and uncertainty are vital parts of the human condition-- they ensure that we all approach each day with a renewed sense of anticipation and eagerness, because none of us can ever know when the best moment in our lives will come. Well, dear readers, in taking on the role of Travis LaPlante, I am not most people. I am not a mere man. No. I'm the Juggernaut, bitch. I know exactly when my life peaked-- it peaked at Waterbury VII.
I allow myself to hold my gaze on the calendar for a wistful second before turning away, the pangs of memory tugging at my heartstrings as like the photograph of a loved one. The memory of that solitary moment of triumph is the only thing that keeps me going these days. It's enveloped me like the warm embrace of the summer breeze, as I've made many, many, many a drive home from countless other tournaments, after going 0-2 drop.
I sigh and set myself to my day's labors. I tenderly exchange my Girls Gone Wild cap for a tinfoil hat, protecting myself from the sinister machinations of the TMD moderation staff. Their autocratic plot to overmoderate the website must not be allowed to succeed. The day an adult conversation can take place on TMD will be the day they pry my keyboard out of my cold, dead hands. I download the software for another proxy server, whilst scouring my mind for the latest alias that will provide cover for my struggle for freedom against the staff. ZHERBUSLICKSBALLS? feinsteinsupportscheaters? Thirty seconds later, having exhausted my vocabulary, I exclaim, "YOUREEK-HA!" and triumphantly don a disguise that would thwart the acumen of Sherlock Holmes himself-- DASWEATYBALLSLULZ. I hurl myself upon the gears, upon the levers of the TMD moderation machine. Smmenen's mother fucked Richard Nixon! Jeek is a dirty fucker! And on and on, until the trembles of rage and passion leave my fleshy hands.
Satisfied that I've fought the good fight against decency and civility for another day, I replace my Girls Gone Wild cap atop my head and choose my wardrobe for the day from the pile of unwashed clothes in the corner. "Sarcasm is one of the my services I offer"? "Keep honking, I'm reloading"? Or the wolf picture? Hot Topic provides me with so many options. I elect for the shirt least covered in stains and smudges, and, after much effort, don my sweat pants. It's off to school.
Along the way, I produce a CD from the fetid pile of half-eaten takeout containers and soda cans in the backseat, looking forward to the latest masterpiece of Dr. Seuss as read on tape. However, my spirits fall as I remember that my car stereo was long ago jacked in the parking lot of the Hadley Mall. The CD disappears in the dark gap in the center console where the stereo should have been, along with so many before it.
As I enter the campus, I catch the eye of a nubile co-ed and lumber over to her, working my romantic magic. "Hey baby, you see this hat? If you want some of this, you know what you have to do!" The acrid kiss of pepper spray is always the same. She only screams "Help! HELP!" a few times as she flees for the safety of campus police. I consider this first meeting a success, and make a note to approach her again in the future. I clear my eyes and resume my trek to the classroom.
Special education isn't as difficult as the name might suggest. I have a straight-A average, and teacher tells me that if I behave myself this whole week, a gold star will be added to my chart. I briefly envision my chart, adorned with a gold star, and smile. Maybe it would be as sweet as my 1st place finish at Waterbury VII, my reward after a brutal struggle against the unsleeved decks, Landstill control engines, and Sui Black offense of the casual players that pushed attendance at that tournament to record highs.
How dare Demonic Attorney attempt to compare results with me. He only has, like, several dozen wins and high finishes in a row. But those are inferior tournaments. Hosted only by TO's like Myriad Games. And ELD. And Centreville Games. And Double Midnight. And The Beanie Exchange, Pandemonium, Hadley, Waterbury, Travis LaPlante, Dave Feinstein, BatterUp, Mykeatog, and Andystok. How could they possibly compare? And I'm going to get a gold sta-- wait a second. That other kid in the football helmet looks like Kowal. Kowal! How did he get into the special class? He used to be a TMD Mod! Fuck this. There's a trash barrel on hand, this shit is on!
It seems my lapse in judgment cost me more than my gold star. School security escorted me to the edge of campus, telling me I can come back when I can behave myself. I've heard that before. Jacob Orlove used that line, and then I came back as ZHERBUSLICKSBALLS and no one was the wiser! Well, I'll apply my cunning ability for disguise to real life! They'll never suspect a thing!
...My attempt to sneak back into class was not as successful as I hoped. Apparently a fake moustache is not as effective a disguise as a TMD alias. Now I have to take these pills three times a day. "Behavioral modification," they said. "Modification"? "Mod"?! Fuck, no! I hurl the pills out the window of the car on my way home, the bottle vanishing among the shadows that creep longer and larger as the twilight hour creeps closer, the advent of nightfall hanging in the air.
I return home and pause on my front lawn, looking up at my girlfriend's bedroom window. She's walking into the room from the shower-- what luck! I think to ring her doorbell and say hello, but she's been reticent the last few times we've interacted. I've decided to fulfill her need for space and my need for, well... with a pair a binoculars. I sit on my hood, the suspension system of my car creaking out another feeble groan of protest and fix my gaze on her window. She changes into a tank top, the one she was wearing before we met and she invested in a rape whistle. She looks down into my driveway, and our eyes meet for a charged instant, my unfettered desire surprising her. Her jaw drops. She throws the blinds closed.
The police arrived soon thereafter. I'm given another court date. I smile self-assuredly. That DA thinks he's so smart. I've already seen more court time than him, and I haven't even gone to law school! Well, not as a student. These "probation fees" are starting to add up, though, and my investment income has been tied up lately. That nice man from Nigeria told me he'd be able to move a million dollars into my bank account if I just gave him my PIN number. My balance dropped unexpectedly soon thereafter, but I'm sure he's just covering regulatory costs. But I need to do something.
I head down to Foxwoods and empty my pockets. $516, a condom I bought in 1994, a pack of chewing gum, and a walkman. I put it all on #2005 in Roulette-- my lucky number. I'm told the numbers don't go up that high. Another game that can't keep up with me. Very well. Number 25. I close my eyes and put down my life savings. The balls rolls slowly onto 25, providing once again that the maxim is true, and Providence protects children and idiots.
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« Reply #154 on: August 21, 2010, 10:46:26 pm » |
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The maxim is true, and Providence protects children and idiots.
You may be in the running to win the tmd award for overblown fantasy concoctions on a Saturday afternoon, but you still never won a tournament over 30 players. On the other hand, this child and idiot will continue to get lucky and steamroll uptight players on the boards, and in tournaments. NY vs PA vs NE GRUDGE MATCH? Oh no, that one isn't going to mean jack shit. The DA vs Laplante grudge match sept 11, 2010 is going to be more apocalyptic then the magical ticket of sarah palin/glen beck winning the presidency in 2012, then shortly after, getting run over by a drunken bus of tea party advocates in celebration to leave us with an absolutely shit nuts president. YOU BETTER WEAR A HORSESHOE UP YOUR ASS AND BRING THE MOTHERFUCKER FROM THE LUCKY CHARMS CEREAL BOX TO PERSONALLY BLESS YOU BEFORE EVERY GAME, BECAUSE YOU ARE GOING TO NEED ALL THE LUCK POSSIBLE TO TAKE THIS ONE DOWN.
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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Juggernaut GO
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« Reply #155 on: August 21, 2010, 11:36:15 pm » |
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Also, in related news, for anyone coming in from out of town that isn't staying at the marriott, I have an entire weekend of free rooms at mohegan reserved if anyone needs a place to stay for free. It is like an hour and a half away from the actual tournament though, but there is free booze, and its probably the best casino outside of vegas.
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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metalhead666
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« Reply #156 on: August 21, 2010, 11:40:45 pm » |
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Travis, the problem with your terms is this. In the spirit of reciprocity, I would want to take on your duties and functions for a day if I won. And honestly, I am genuinely concerned that I might not be up to the task. And I fear for the fate of the world if it should turn out that I'm not.
Your busy schedule is packed full of vital functions and important services upon which our community depends. I'm not entirely sure what a day in the life of Travis LaPlante is really like, but I'll paint as vivid a mental picture of my efforts to follow in your footsteps as possible:
I awaken at the bottom of a pile of refuse, empty beer cans, dirty clothes, old pizza boxes, and sticky, soiled Kleenex at the crack of noon. Dazed, I squint as my vision focuses on the ceiling, the events of the previous evening not quite coming into focus. I stumble out of bed, and immediately I'm face to face with one of the dozens of calendars posted on the walls throughout the residence. They're all from the year 2005. The year of Our Lord, Two Thousand and Five. Philosophers say that death and uncertainty are vital parts of the human condition-- they ensure that we all approach each day with a renewed sense of anticipation and eagerness, because none of us can ever know when the best moment in our lives will come. Well, dear readers, in taking on the role of Travis LaPlante, I am not most people. I am not a mere man. No. I'm the Juggernaut, bitch. I know exactly when my life peaked-- it peaked at Waterbury VII.
I allow myself to hold my gaze on the calendar for a wistful second before turning away, the pangs of memory tugging at my heartstrings as like the photograph of a loved one. The memory of that solitary moment of triumph is the only thing that keeps me going these days. It's enveloped me like the warm embrace of the summer breeze, as I've made many, many, many a drive home from countless other tournaments, after going 0-2 drop.
I sigh and set myself to my day's labors. I tenderly exchange my Girls Gone Wild cap for a tinfoil hat, protecting myself from the sinister machinations of the TMD moderation staff. Their autocratic plot to overmoderate the website must not be allowed to succeed. The day an adult conversation can take place on TMD will be the day they pry my keyboard out of my cold, dead hands. I download the software for another proxy server, whilst scouring my mind for the latest alias that will provide cover for my struggle for freedom against the staff. ZHERBUSLICKSBALLS? feinsteinsupportscheaters? Thirty seconds later, having exhausted my vocabulary, I exclaim, "YOUREEK-HA!" and triumphantly don a disguise that would thwart the acumen of Sherlock Holmes himself-- DASWEATYBALLSLULZ. I hurl myself upon the gears, upon the levers of the TMD moderation machine. Smmenen's mother fucked Richard Nixon! Jeek is a dirty fucker! And on and on, until the trembles of rage and passion leave my fleshy hands.
Satisfied that I've fought the good fight against decency and civility for another day, I replace my Girls Gone Wild cap atop my head and choose my wardrobe for the day from the pile of unwashed clothes in the corner. "Sarcasm is one of the my services I offer"? "Keep honking, I'm reloading"? Or the wolf picture? Hot Topic provides me with so many options. I elect for the shirt least covered in stains and smudges, and, after much effort, don my sweat pants. It's off to school.
Along the way, I produce a CD from the fetid pile of half-eaten takeout containers and soda cans in the backseat, looking forward to the latest masterpiece of Dr. Seuss as read on tape. However, my spirits fall as I remember that my car stereo was long ago jacked in the parking lot of the Hadley Mall. The CD disappears in the dark gap in the center console where the stereo should have been, along with so many before it.
As I enter the campus, I catch the eye of a nubile co-ed and lumber over to her, working my romantic magic. "Hey baby, you see this hat? If you want some of this, you know what you have to do!" The acrid kiss of pepper spray is always the same. She only screams "Help! HELP!" a few times as she flees for the safety of campus police. I consider this first meeting a success, and make a note to approach her again in the future. I clear my eyes and resume my trek to the classroom.
Special education isn't as difficult as the name might suggest. I have a straight-A average, and teacher tells me that if I behave myself this whole week, a gold star will be added to my chart. I briefly envision my chart, adorned with a gold star, and smile. Maybe it would be as sweet as my 1st place finish at Waterbury VII, my reward after a brutal struggle against the unsleeved decks, Landstill control engines, and Sui Black offense of the casual players that pushed attendance at that tournament to record highs.
How dare Demonic Attorney attempt to compare results with me. He only has, like, several dozen wins and high finishes in a row. But those are inferior tournaments. Hosted only by TO's like Myriad Games. And ELD. And Centreville Games. And Double Midnight. And The Beanie Exchange, Pandemonium, Hadley, Waterbury, Travis LaPlante, Dave Feinstein, BatterUp, Mykeatog, and Andystok. How could they possibly compare? And I'm going to get a gold sta-- wait a second. That other kid in the football helmet looks like Kowal. Kowal! How did he get into the special class? He used to be a TMD Mod! Fuck this. There's a trash barrel on hand, this shit is on!
It seems my lapse in judgment cost me more than my gold star. School security escorted me to the edge of campus, telling me I can come back when I can behave myself. I've heard that before. Jacob Orlove used that line, and then I came back as ZHERBUSLICKSBALLS and no one was the wiser! Well, I'll apply my cunning ability for disguise to real life! They'll never suspect a thing!
...My attempt to sneak back into class was not as successful as I hoped. Apparently a fake moustache is not as effective a disguise as a TMD alias. Now I have to take these pills three times a day. "Behavioral modification," they said. "Modification"? "Mod"?! Fuck, no! I hurl the pills out the window of the car on my way home, the bottle vanishing among the shadows that creep longer and larger as the twilight hour creeps closer, the advent of nightfall hanging in the air.
I return home and pause on my front lawn, looking up at my girlfriend's bedroom window. She's walking into the room from the shower-- what luck! I think to ring her doorbell and say hello, but she's been reticent the last few times we've interacted. I've decided to fulfill her need for space and my need for, well... with a pair a binoculars. I sit on my hood, the suspension system of my car creaking out another feeble groan of protest and fix my gaze on her window. She changes into a tank top, the one she was wearing before we met and she invested in a rape whistle. She looks down into my driveway, and our eyes meet for a charged instant, my unfettered desire surprising her. Her jaw drops. She throws the blinds closed.
The police arrived soon thereafter. I'm given another court date. I smile self-assuredly. That DA thinks he's so smart. I've already seen more court time than him, and I haven't even gone to law school! Well, not as a student. These "probation fees" are starting to add up, though, and my investment income has been tied up lately. That nice man from Nigeria told me he'd be able to move a million dollars into my bank account if I just gave him my PIN number. My balance dropped unexpectedly soon thereafter, but I'm sure he's just covering regulatory costs. But I need to do something.
I head down to Foxwoods and empty my pockets. $516, a condom I bought in 1994, a pack of chewing gum, and a walkman. I put it all on #2005 in Roulette-- my lucky number. I'm told the numbers don't go up that high. Another game that can't keep up with me. Very well. Number 25. I close my eyes and put down my life savings. The balls rolls slowly onto 25, providing once again that the maxim is true, and Providence protects children and idiots.
This is one of the funniest things I have ever read!
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Juggernaut GO
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« Reply #157 on: August 21, 2010, 11:47:35 pm » |
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Yeah that was probably the most epic burn ever on this website.
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« Last Edit: August 22, 2010, 12:00:02 am by JuggernautGO »
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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MishraTron
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« Reply #158 on: August 22, 2010, 02:37:00 am » |
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Story Time with DA
NEEDS MORE TITTIES
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T00L
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« Reply #159 on: August 22, 2010, 12:01:19 pm » |
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I like my Magic decks like I like my relationships. Abusive.
Team GGs: We welcome all types of degeneracy!
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The Atog Lord
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« Reply #160 on: August 22, 2010, 12:13:10 pm » |
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The Academy: If I'm not dead, I have a Dragonlord Dromoka coming in 4 turns
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T00L
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« Reply #161 on: August 22, 2010, 12:42:02 pm » |
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I like my Magic decks like I like my relationships. Abusive.
Team GGs: We welcome all types of degeneracy!
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Jacob Orlove
Official Time Traveller of TMD
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When am I?
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« Reply #162 on: August 22, 2010, 03:30:38 pm » |
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Yeah that was probably the most epic burn ever on this website.
Sigh, no one remembers PhantomTapeWorm anymore. He was one of the greats. But back in the day, flamewar threads got deleted. We really should have preserved a few for posterity. At least we still have this thread around.
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Team Meandeck: O Lord, Guard my tongue from evil and my lips from speaking guile. To those who slander me, let me give no heed. May my soul be humble and forgiving to all.
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Juggernaut GO
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« Reply #163 on: August 22, 2010, 08:37:30 pm » |
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I dont know, it may only be funny to you if you have a giant stick up your ass
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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T00L
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« Reply #164 on: August 23, 2010, 03:28:21 pm » |
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Classic Travis! 
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I like my Magic decks like I like my relationships. Abusive.
Team GGs: We welcome all types of degeneracy!
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Juggernaut GO
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« Reply #165 on: August 23, 2010, 05:30:37 pm » |
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You know, just like frasier was only funny to uptight white people who paid too much for law school
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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Razvan
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« Reply #166 on: August 23, 2010, 05:31:07 pm » |
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So, after reading that post DA made, I shot a message to shock_wave and hope that we can all go to Waterbury. Yes, because of that post. Travis/Chris are just that damned good.
Is there a prize for going 0-8?
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Insult my mother, insult my sister, insult my girlfriend... but never ever use the words "restrict" and "Workshop" in the same sentence...
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Prospero
Aequitas
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« Reply #167 on: August 23, 2010, 06:24:42 pm » |
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So, after reading that post DA made, I shot a message to shock_wave and hope that we can all go to Waterbury. Yes, because of that post. Travis/Chris are just that damned good.
Is there a prize for going 0-8?
0-2 gets you free entry into the 'Snapple' bracket. Just find somebody from the New York crew. Or Winnie the Pooh.
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Juggernaut GO
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« Reply #168 on: August 23, 2010, 06:27:34 pm » |
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So, after reading that post DA made, I shot a message to shock_wave and hope that we can all go to Waterbury. Yes, because of that post. Travis/Chris are just that damned good.
Is there a prize for going 0-8?
0-2 gets you free entry into the 'Snapple' bracket. Just find somebody from the New York crew. Or Winnie the Pooh. actually for me it usually was 0-2 titties, because there is always a titty bar on the way back from the tournament.
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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Razvan
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« Reply #169 on: August 23, 2010, 06:43:49 pm » |
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0-2 is for punks, 0-8 is for real men. It's worth the drive just to have fun, you know, go big or go home. Top-8 or 0-8.
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Insult my mother, insult my sister, insult my girlfriend... but never ever use the words "restrict" and "Workshop" in the same sentence...
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BC
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« Reply #170 on: August 23, 2010, 08:02:00 pm » |
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metalhead666
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« Reply #171 on: August 23, 2010, 08:07:56 pm » |
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Razvan
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« Reply #172 on: August 23, 2010, 09:03:46 pm » |
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12 ^ 10. Or alternatively, how many beers or hits to the head it would take for anyone to think Lil Bow Wow can act or rap or whatever the hell it is he thinks he's doing.
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Insult my mother, insult my sister, insult my girlfriend... but never ever use the words "restrict" and "Workshop" in the same sentence...
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iamfishman
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« Reply #173 on: August 23, 2010, 09:08:19 pm » |
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RIP Mogg Fanatic...at least you are still better than Fire Bowman!!!
I was once asked on MWS, what the highest I ever finished at a TMD Open was. I replied, "I've never played in a Waterbury. I was then called "A TOTAL NOOB!"
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Demonic Attorney
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« Reply #174 on: August 24, 2010, 08:04:28 am » |
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Yeah that was probably the most epic burn ever on this website.
Sigh, no one remembers PhantomTapeWorm anymore. He was one of the greats. But back in the day, flamewar threads got deleted. We really should have preserved a few for posterity. At least we still have this thread around. To be fair, I've been calling out PTW for a long time in my trashtalknig threads. I need a worthy adversary and I guess he'd be close enough. Sadly, my attempts thus far have been without success.
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Juggernaut GO
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« Reply #175 on: August 24, 2010, 08:36:53 pm » |
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was looking over the list of players, shouldn't dave feinstein be on that, he hasn't played vintage in like 3 years.
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Rand Paul is a stupid fuck, just like his daddy. Let's go buy some gold!!!
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Marske
Mindsculptor
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Posts: 1209
Go beyond Synergy and enter Poetry
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« Reply #176 on: August 28, 2010, 08:04:18 am » |
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So I booked my ticket today, I'll be arriving September 9th and leaving September 13th.. anybody in the NYC area and up for a meeting / playtest session etc should do well to contact me (PM on TMD, FB, AIM whatever) as I'm open for anything.
I'm looking forward to seeing all you folks again and meeting all the people I didn't have a chance to meet last time (Smmenen, Mastriano looking at you guys) all kidding aside this is going to be one EPIC trip again...
On other news, for the Team Serious Crew (and Nick Detwiler and Mike Egan obv) I'll be bringing Stroopwafels !!
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Riding a polka-powered zombie T-Rex into a necromancer family reunion in the middle of an evil ghost hurricane. "Meandeckers act like they forgot about Dredge." - Matt Elias The Atog Lord: I'm not an Atog because I'm GOOD with machines 
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T00L
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« Reply #177 on: August 28, 2010, 09:16:33 am » |
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Stroopwafels and french inkwells plz 
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I like my Magic decks like I like my relationships. Abusive.
Team GGs: We welcome all types of degeneracy!
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kl0wn
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« Reply #178 on: August 31, 2010, 04:25:10 pm » |
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If I make it to this event I expect EVERYONE else too as well  . Although I haven't touched a card in like 5 years. Edit: Does anyone know how to get in touch with Bryce (aka kl0wn)? Try email, it worked for Ray.  I'd like to make it, only problem is I'm poor. I mean REALLY poor. Living off student loans here; I only get like $14k/year for everything. Also depends on my workload. I still have my cards though. I'd need to get a crash course in the metagame and a link to the B&R list too. Am I correct in recalling that they restricted Thirst for Knowledge and Brainstorm? Last time I saw Carl, he was behind the counter at Jupiter Games in Vestal. Maybe I can dig him up.
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« Last Edit: August 31, 2010, 04:27:55 pm by kl0wn »
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Team kl0wn: Quitting Magic since 2005? The Fringe: R.I.P.
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TJ-Whoopy
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« Reply #179 on: August 31, 2010, 07:10:01 pm » |
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Happened upon the invite to this in my spam folder today. holy shit memories. if I didn't have a prior work commitment I'd be coming down just to act foolish and drink too much. I'm sure that there will be a number of you going down that are more than capable of filling this role in my stead.
Reading this thread has brought back many many fond memories of playing with those of you whose names are worth remembering such as......
nope sorry drawing a blank. anyway have a great time all and don't forget that in the absence of a bottle opener the Hotel has provided you with a bible that work just as well
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Logged
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Ball and Chain: The only Magic team worth being on when you no longer play Magic
Retired from Magic and loving it.
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