NHL Mega-Mock Draft Reboot - Discussion / Draft Thread - FRESH DOWN THERE PHASE NINETEEN!
- Thread starter Captain Dave Poulin
- Start date
- Status
BernieParent
In misery of redwings of suckage for a long time
Merci, mon Capitaine!
"... and in addition to providing free nourishing hot meals to the homeless, the mega-batteries attached to the wheels of our food truck fleet will generate enough electricity to power every elementary school in the ..."
"Don't you think you've hit your virtue signalling quota for this draft round, guys?"
"Ryan Reynolds, our Team Actor and (Double Time) Team Attack Pilot! What are you doing here?"
"I've been following the QuackVerse draft pretty f***ing closely -- loved your selection of Ostlund and Leinonen, by the way -- and it looks like I got here just in time to contribute one of my contractually agreed-upon picks."
"Your ... uhh ... pardon?"
"Yep, Geoffy, do you think I would have let you select moi without some sweeeeet contract riders? Including, and I quote, "a draft selection of Mr. Reynolds' choosing in any draft round at Mr. Reynolds' discretion." Welcome to my f*** ing discretion, ladies and gentlemen!"
"Oh, well, yes, hmmm, may I ask to see that contract, please?" Geoff Molson asked, glaring at FireSticks lawyer Matt Murdock, who looks back blindly. A copy of the contract is given to Mr. Molson.
"You'll see it in paragraph 14, seventh bullet, on page 106."
"Who even wrote these ..."
"This isn't the time to enter into legal quibbling, fellow FireSticks owners ..."
"What do you mean 'fellow' ..."
"Page 5, bottom 2 paragraphs, Geoffy ... we have a pick to make and I have a delightful one for this very f***ing topic."
"You seem to swear a lot."
"I'm playing a caricature of myself, so it fits. F***. C***. F***ing f*** f***s***. I still pale in comparison with the creator of this weirda** f***verse. And here is my selection for Team Food Truck, which I know you will be head over t**s with!
"I called up been working with my famous chef friend, [RANCH], and we whipped up the concept of full haute cuisine meals wrapped in bread or pastry shells that you could eat with your hands. No utensils. We have beef wellington, pâté de fois gras, lobster bisque, coq au vin, and duck confit in convenient and completely edible dough wrappings. For more modest budgets, we have done the same with more traditional meals like yankee pot roast, chicken kiev, spaghetti bolognese, and spicy Thai tofu."
"That is indeed impressive, Ryan."
"Actually, that's Mr. Reynolds. Page 2, first paragraph. And thank you. I knew you would love it."
"My apologies, Mr. Reynolds. What, then, do you propose to call this selection?"
"This is the best part. As I said, our meals are all made to be eaten with one's hands so we would not be giving out wasteful plastic utensils. I call this fleet of Tampa Bay FireSticks food trucks No Forks Given."
"Oh dear."
"It's funny because it says 'forks' instead of 'f***s'."
"We, uhh, understood that part, Mr. Reynolds."
"I see the joy on your faces. Well, then, I'll be leaving now in my Team Hoverjet to take me back to my Team Hawaiian Island! Toodles!"
"We will now step back, lie down with cold cloths on our heads, and let @Beef Invictus and @JojoTheWhale fight it out for the next pick."
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Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
This is a noble thing Mr Reynolds has created. Wellingtonizing foods is one of mankind's most important pursuits.
Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
Thank you Bernie! Crowded Bernie! Psychological Bernie! Encouraging Bernie!
We know what our hype song may be. But right now we need to finish out the Futureheads because you people are sniping my territory. And so we angrily draft, from the Fifth Round (Where Gunk Slusher once drafted the mighty Kaprizov),
Patrick Guay
He's a tiny boychild who is speedy. Too speedy, because he kinda falls over in tight turns at high speeds, so he outruns his edge ability. But at the same time he's shown low-speed agility in tight. He shoots. He's a sniper. Tinyboy busy-looking snipey type. Never mind that he's unbelievably old. What could go wrong? Kaprizov is from the 5th round.
There are probably many photographs of him, so it's possible this is one of them:
Kaput @ajgoal ! Glib ajgoal! Steady ajgoal!
We know what our hype song may be. But right now we need to finish out the Futureheads because you people are sniping my territory. And so we angrily draft, from the Fifth Round (Where Gunk Slusher once drafted the mighty Kaprizov),
Patrick Guay
He's a tiny boychild who is speedy. Too speedy, because he kinda falls over in tight turns at high speeds, so he outruns his edge ability. But at the same time he's shown low-speed agility in tight. He shoots. He's a sniper. Tinyboy busy-looking snipey type. Never mind that he's unbelievably old. What could go wrong? Kaprizov is from the 5th round.
There are probably many photographs of him, so it's possible this is one of them:
Kaput @ajgoal ! Glib ajgoal! Steady ajgoal!
You should see the chickens racing to get to the cat food in the morning. It's like three Mrs. Garretts from "Facts of Life" with their hands tied behind their backs.
We start the day with @ajgoal on the clock, the League Secretary on deck, @Magua on the lido deck, and @Rebels57 on the lido afterdeck with a three-day cushion before happy hour.
I've talked about so many things on here that it's hard to keep track. I know I have briefly mentioned how much I hate the country club I used to work at (as a waiter, not the one I caddied at), but I don't think I have talked about the GM there, Sandy, who is top 10 on The List. He was huge, but not fat - about 6'4, 230 pounds. He was totally inconsistent, in part due to the cocaine, and in part due to the fact that his family had some money, so he was confused about whether he was an employee (which he was) or a member (which he both was and wasn't) (phrasing), and he walked around with a sense of entitlement above and beyond that which his position gave him. His size alone made him intimidating, but his fluctuating moods made it exponentially worse. He was a horrible manager and a rotten human being, trust me. I had lost my scholarship to college just before I started working there, and there was every chance that I would drift away from school permanently and never go back. I hated that job and this guy so much that it re-forged my identity - after four years, I was so motivated to get away from him that I made myself a good student and went back and torched my university classes.
I haven't thought about him in ages, because why would I think about the c***? But I had a dream the other night in which he appeared. He was characteristically unhinged, coked out of his gills and running around the apartment building - which I guess I shared - smashing windows. It was like "The Shining" of cocaine thrillers. People were trying to both stop his rampage and get him to rehab before he killed himself, and I got caught up in it somehow. The "lighting" in the dream was all dark and Hellish. It was f***ing grim. I don't know what happened in my subconscious to dredge up that c***, but I can only assume that this is what happens when you finish watching a show with one of your soulmates in it and she no longer appears. In other words, when reality is that f***ing REAL, and it goes away, all that is left are nightmares.
Here's an example of what a c*** he is. About 10 years after leaving the club for school, and after returning to America from Sweden, I was waiting for a job to open up at the paper I'd worked for, and I needed money, so in desperation I went back to work at the club. My friend had become the GM and I figured I could handle it. During my first stint, when Sandy was in an uncharacteristically generous mood, he gave me a game-used stick from Bobby Clarke (Sandy had worked for years at the Blues arena). He knew I was a Flyers fan. I don't know what possessed him to do it, but I wasn't going to turn it down. When I went back - this was 10 f***ing years later - he was still there in an even higher position or something. He walked up to me one night and out of nowhere asked me for the stick back. I shit you not. I don't remember what he said the reason for it was, but can you believe that shit? I hadn't done anything to him or anything wrong at all. I told him something like "Sure, I'll get it back to you." Luckily I left not soon after and never gave it back to him.
I'm getting fired up just thinking about it. I need fresh memories and plenty of twinkle love.
We start the day with @ajgoal on the clock, the League Secretary on deck, @Magua on the lido deck, and @Rebels57 on the lido afterdeck with a three-day cushion before happy hour.
I've talked about so many things on here that it's hard to keep track. I know I have briefly mentioned how much I hate the country club I used to work at (as a waiter, not the one I caddied at), but I don't think I have talked about the GM there, Sandy, who is top 10 on The List. He was huge, but not fat - about 6'4, 230 pounds. He was totally inconsistent, in part due to the cocaine, and in part due to the fact that his family had some money, so he was confused about whether he was an employee (which he was) or a member (which he both was and wasn't) (phrasing), and he walked around with a sense of entitlement above and beyond that which his position gave him. His size alone made him intimidating, but his fluctuating moods made it exponentially worse. He was a horrible manager and a rotten human being, trust me. I had lost my scholarship to college just before I started working there, and there was every chance that I would drift away from school permanently and never go back. I hated that job and this guy so much that it re-forged my identity - after four years, I was so motivated to get away from him that I made myself a good student and went back and torched my university classes.
I haven't thought about him in ages, because why would I think about the c***? But I had a dream the other night in which he appeared. He was characteristically unhinged, coked out of his gills and running around the apartment building - which I guess I shared - smashing windows. It was like "The Shining" of cocaine thrillers. People were trying to both stop his rampage and get him to rehab before he killed himself, and I got caught up in it somehow. The "lighting" in the dream was all dark and Hellish. It was f***ing grim. I don't know what happened in my subconscious to dredge up that c***, but I can only assume that this is what happens when you finish watching a show with one of your soulmates in it and she no longer appears. In other words, when reality is that f***ing REAL, and it goes away, all that is left are nightmares.
Here's an example of what a c*** he is. About 10 years after leaving the club for school, and after returning to America from Sweden, I was waiting for a job to open up at the paper I'd worked for, and I needed money, so in desperation I went back to work at the club. My friend had become the GM and I figured I could handle it. During my first stint, when Sandy was in an uncharacteristically generous mood, he gave me a game-used stick from Bobby Clarke (Sandy had worked for years at the Blues arena). He knew I was a Flyers fan. I don't know what possessed him to do it, but I wasn't going to turn it down. When I went back - this was 10 f***ing years later - he was still there in an even higher position or something. He walked up to me one night and out of nowhere asked me for the stick back. I shit you not. I don't remember what he said the reason for it was, but can you believe that shit? I hadn't done anything to him or anything wrong at all. I told him something like "Sure, I'll get it back to you." Luckily I left not soon after and never gave it back to him.
I'm getting fired up just thinking about it. I need fresh memories and plenty of twinkle love.
f*** you Sandy. Spite Boss would be a great new category.You should see the chickens racing to get to the cat food in the morning. It's like three Mrs. Garretts from "Facts of Life" with their hands tied behind their backs.
We start the day with @ajgoal on the clock, the League Secretary on deck, @Magua on the lido deck, and @Rebels57 on the lido afterdeck with a three-day cushion before happy hour.
I've talked about so many things on here that it's hard to keep track. I know I have briefly mentioned how much I hate the country club I used to work at (as a waiter, not the one I caddied at), but I don't think I have talked about the GM there, Sandy, who is top 10 on The List. He was huge, but not fat - about 6'4, 230 pounds. He was totally inconsistent, in part due to the cocaine, and in part due to the fact that his family had some money, so he was confused about whether he was an employee (which he was) or a member (which he both was and wasn't) (phrasing), and he walked around with a sense of entitlement above and beyond that which his position gave him. His size alone made him intimidating, but his fluctuating moods made it exponentially worse. He was a horrible manager and a rotten human being, trust me. I had lost my scholarship to college just before I started working there, and there was every chance that I would drift away from school permanently and never go back. I hated that job and this guy so much that it re-forged my identity - after four years, I was so motivated to get away from him that I made myself a good student and went back and torched my university classes.
I haven't thought about him in ages, because why would I think about the c***? But I had a dream the other night in which he appeared. He was characteristically unhinged, coked out of his gills and running around the apartment building - which I guess I shared - smashing windows. It was like "The Shining" of cocaine thrillers. People were trying to both stop his rampage and get him to rehab before he killed himself, and I got caught up in it somehow. The "lighting" in the dream was all dark and Hellish. It was f***ing grim. I don't know what happened in my subconscious to dredge up that c***, but I can only assume that this is what happens when you finish watching a show with one of your soulmates in it and she no longer appears. In other words, when reality is that f***ing REAL, and it goes away, all that is left are nightmares.
Here's an example of what a c*** he is. About 10 years after leaving the club for school, and after returning to America from Sweden, I was waiting for a job to open up at the paper I'd worked for, and I needed money, so in desperation I went back to work at the club. My friend had become the GM and I figured I could handle it. During my first stint, when Sandy was in an uncharacteristically generous mood, he gave me a game-used stick from Bobby Clarke (Sandy had worked for years at the Blues arena). He knew I was a Flyers fan. I don't know what possessed him to do it, but I wasn't going to turn it down. When I went back - this was 10 f***ing years later - he was still there in an even higher position or something. He walked up to me one night and out of nowhere asked me for the stick back. I shit you not. I don't remember what he said the reason for it was, but can you believe that shit? I hadn't done anything to him or anything wrong at all. I told him something like "Sure, I'll get it back to you." Luckily I left not soon after and never gave it back to him.
I'm getting fired up just thinking about it. I need fresh memories and plenty of twinkle love.
This reminded me of a similar situation where my brother and I helped some old guy clean out the crawlspaces and storage areas of his rental properties when we were about 13 or so. He paid us well and gave us a Greg Noll longboard (surfboard) on top of the cash. we were riding high after that score. Then like 5 years later totally out of the blue the guy shows up to our house and says he wants the surfboard back. It was shocking. That was when I realized old people could act like children too.
Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
You should see the chickens racing to get to the cat food in the morning. It's like three Mrs. Garretts from "Facts of Life" with their hands tied behind their backs.
We start the day with @ajgoal on the clock, the League Secretary on deck, @Magua on the lido deck, and @Rebels57 on the lido afterdeck with a three-day cushion before happy hour.
I've talked about so many things on here that it's hard to keep track. I know I have briefly mentioned how much I hate the country club I used to work at (as a waiter, not the one I caddied at), but I don't think I have talked about the GM there, Sandy, who is top 10 on The List. He was huge, but not fat - about 6'4, 230 pounds. He was totally inconsistent, in part due to the cocaine, and in part due to the fact that his family had some money, so he was confused about whether he was an employee (which he was) or a member (which he both was and wasn't) (phrasing), and he walked around with a sense of entitlement above and beyond that which his position gave him. His size alone made him intimidating, but his fluctuating moods made it exponentially worse. He was a horrible manager and a rotten human being, trust me. I had lost my scholarship to college just before I started working there, and there was every chance that I would drift away from school permanently and never go back. I hated that job and this guy so much that it re-forged my identity - after four years, I was so motivated to get away from him that I made myself a good student and went back and torched my university classes.
I haven't thought about him in ages, because why would I think about the c***? But I had a dream the other night in which he appeared. He was characteristically unhinged, coked out of his gills and running around the apartment building - which I guess I shared - smashing windows. It was like "The Shining" of cocaine thrillers. People were trying to both stop his rampage and get him to rehab before he killed himself, and I got caught up in it somehow. The "lighting" in the dream was all dark and Hellish. It was f***ing grim. I don't know what happened in my subconscious to dredge up that c***, but I can only assume that this is what happens when you finish watching a show with one of your soulmates in it and she no longer appears. In other words, when reality is that f***ing REAL, and it goes away, all that is left are nightmares.
Here's an example of what a c*** he is. About 10 years after leaving the club for school, and after returning to America from Sweden, I was waiting for a job to open up at the paper I'd worked for, and I needed money, so in desperation I went back to work at the club. My friend had become the GM and I figured I could handle it. During my first stint, when Sandy was in an uncharacteristically generous mood, he gave me a game-used stick from Bobby Clarke (Sandy had worked for years at the Blues arena). He knew I was a Flyers fan. I don't know what possessed him to do it, but I wasn't going to turn it down. When I went back - this was 10 f***ing years later - he was still there in an even higher position or something. He walked up to me one night and out of nowhere asked me for the stick back. I shit you not. I don't remember what he said the reason for it was, but can you believe that shit? I hadn't done anything to him or anything wrong at all. I told him something like "Sure, I'll get it back to you." Luckily I left not soon after and never gave it back to him.
I'm getting fired up just thinking about it. I need fresh memories and plenty of twinkle love.
Maybe his intestines randomly toppled out of his torso one day.
ajgoal
Almost always never serious
- Jun 29, 2015
- 9,740
- 28,400
An anthem should invoke something relevant and meaningful. Something important to the organization. We find that the timeless things provide much to be revered, and we wish to invoke and gain the support of that most fickle of mistresses.
O Fortune,
like the moon
you are changeable,
ever waxing
ever waning;
hateful life
first oppresses
and then soothes
playing with mental clarity;
poverty
and power
it melts them like ice.
Fate – monstrous
and empty,
you whirling wheel,
you are malevolent,
well-being is vain
and always fades to nothing,
shadowed
and veiled
you plague me too;
now through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.
Fate is against me
in health
and virtue,
driven on
and weighted down,
always enslaved.
So at this hour
without delay
pluck the vibrating strings;
since Fate
strikes down the strong,
everyone weep with me!
Of course, it will be sung in the original Latin by these guys:
Of course, they will sing the anthem in its original 13th-Century Latin
Team Anthemist: Amici Forever
Team Anthem: Oh Fortuna (From Carmina Burana, arr. Orff)
@Captain Dave Poulin
O Fortune,
like the moon
you are changeable,
ever waxing
ever waning;
hateful life
first oppresses
and then soothes
playing with mental clarity;
poverty
and power
it melts them like ice.
Fate – monstrous
and empty,
you whirling wheel,
you are malevolent,
well-being is vain
and always fades to nothing,
shadowed
and veiled
you plague me too;
now through the game
I bring my bare back
to your villainy.
Fate is against me
in health
and virtue,
driven on
and weighted down,
always enslaved.
So at this hour
without delay
pluck the vibrating strings;
since Fate
strikes down the strong,
everyone weep with me!
Of course, it will be sung in the original Latin by these guys:
Of course, they will sing the anthem in its original 13th-Century Latin
Team Anthemist: Amici Forever
Team Anthem: Oh Fortuna (From Carmina Burana, arr. Orff)
@Captain Dave Poulin
I was thinking of having a food truck that specialized in all kinds of noodles, but then I looked through my inventory and found that I am pretty well covered for noodle dishes. I tried to find blind spots, things I was missing, and I found one - sausages.
So my food truck is going to specialize in all kinds of sausages. Breakfast sandwiches with sausages, or just the breakfast sausages. Bratwurst. Lovely, lovely bratwurst. Pepperoni, hard salami. But our specialty is going to be a jalapeno and cheese sausage on a bagel roll. This isn't a perfect representation, but it's something like this.
Team Food Truck - Nakama Sausage Wagon (NSW)
@Magua
So my food truck is going to specialize in all kinds of sausages. Breakfast sandwiches with sausages, or just the breakfast sausages. Bratwurst. Lovely, lovely bratwurst. Pepperoni, hard salami. But our specialty is going to be a jalapeno and cheese sausage on a bagel roll. This isn't a perfect representation, but it's something like this.
Team Food Truck - Nakama Sausage Wagon (NSW)
@Magua
Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
I was thinking of having a food truck that specialized in all kinds of noodles, but then I looked through my inventory and found that I am pretty well covered for noodle dishes. I tried to find blind spots, things I was missing, and I found one - sausages.
So my food truck is going to specialize in all kinds of sausages. Breakfast sandwiches with sausages, or just the breakfast sausages. Bratwurst. Lovely, lovely bratwurst. Pepperoni, hard salami. But our specialty is going to be a jalapeno and cheese sausage on a bagel roll. This isn't a perfect representation, but it's something like this.
Team Food Truck - Nakama Sausage Wagon (NSW)
@Magua
Ah yes, a Wellingtonized hot dog. Delicious
BiggE
SELL THE DAMN TEAM
But does that make it a sandwich?
- Sep 28, 2014
- 77,704
- 124,907
For our final pick and our final Futurehead, the FOG select defensemen CALLE ODELIUS.
We are proud in the fact that we did not draft any dirty North Americans with our Futureheads this time around. Let's face it, North America is trash. Not the land of course, but the people that inhabit it. American is far worse than Canada, but the disease is spreading there too. Also, this kid is gonna help the rest of our uglier Futureheads get laid.
We are proud in the fact that we did not draft any dirty North Americans with our Futureheads this time around. Let's face it, North America is trash. Not the land of course, but the people that inhabit it. American is far worse than Canada, but the disease is spreading there too. Also, this kid is gonna help the rest of our uglier Futureheads get laid.
Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
You know that song that goes "It's a new dawn, it's a new day ..." I f***ing passionately hate that song. Rat Pack wannabe bitch.
We start the day with @GKJ on the clock and @Lord Defect on deck with a pair (phrasing). Then we go back to GKJ. Rebels, @Magua and myself are done with this phase once MacGruber makes up his pick from this round, so ajgoal will be on the clock after GKJ's second pick. Clear as mud, innit.
I'm really enjoying "Twinkle Love." The participants are good, and the panel is quite nice, too. At least they have something to say. And every new series I find buys time for more new seasons of shows to be made and/or subtitled and/or released somewhere I can watch online. The only problem with this one is that the sound keeps either getting cut off or warped for a few minutes. The subtitles aren't effected, so it doesn't really matter, but it's a slight annoyance, and I know how important it is to all of you to be informed in detail about all of these shows so you know what you should watch. Keeping it real. REAL real.
I'm hoping that at some point in the future all of the TV football rights for the US go to one party, because they are spread out like a motherf***er right now. The Premier League is on NBC and Peacock, and they suck. The FA Cup is on ESPN+, I think. The f***ing Champions League is on CBS+ or whatever it's called, and that is just f***ed. I'm going to have to find some shitty stream today and hope it holds together. Meh.
We start the day with @GKJ on the clock and @Lord Defect on deck with a pair (phrasing). Then we go back to GKJ. Rebels, @Magua and myself are done with this phase once MacGruber makes up his pick from this round, so ajgoal will be on the clock after GKJ's second pick. Clear as mud, innit.
I'm really enjoying "Twinkle Love." The participants are good, and the panel is quite nice, too. At least they have something to say. And every new series I find buys time for more new seasons of shows to be made and/or subtitled and/or released somewhere I can watch online. The only problem with this one is that the sound keeps either getting cut off or warped for a few minutes. The subtitles aren't effected, so it doesn't really matter, but it's a slight annoyance, and I know how important it is to all of you to be informed in detail about all of these shows so you know what you should watch. Keeping it real. REAL real.
I'm hoping that at some point in the future all of the TV football rights for the US go to one party, because they are spread out like a motherf***er right now. The Premier League is on NBC and Peacock, and they suck. The FA Cup is on ESPN+, I think. The f***ing Champions League is on CBS+ or whatever it's called, and that is just f***ed. I'm going to have to find some shitty stream today and hope it holds together. Meh.
Lord Defect
Secretary of Blowtorching
- Nov 13, 2013
- 18,782
- 34,818
I still have to take two nobodies? What the hellYou know that song that goes "It's a new dawn, it's a new day ..." I f***ing passionately hate that song. Rat Pack wannabe bitch.
We start the day with @GKJ on the clock and @Lord Defect on deck with a pair (phrasing). Then we go back to GKJ. Rebels, @Magua and myself are done with this phase once MacGruber makes up his pick from this round, so ajgoal will be on the clock after GKJ's second pick. Clear as mud, innit.
I'm really enjoying "Twinkle Love." The participants are good, and the panel is quite nice, too. At least they have something to say. And every new series I find buys time for more new seasons of shows to be made and/or subtitled and/or released somewhere I can watch online. The only problem with this one is that the sound keeps either getting cut off or warped for a few minutes. The subtitles aren't effected, so it doesn't really matter, but it's a slight annoyance, and I know how important it is to all of you to be informed in detail about all of these shows so you know what you should watch. Keeping it real. REAL real.
I'm hoping that at some point in the future all of the TV football rights for the US go to one party, because they are spread out like a motherf***er right now. The Premier League is on NBC and Peacock, and they suck. The FA Cup is on ESPN+, I think. The f***ing Champions League is on CBS+ or whatever it's called, and that is just f***ed. I'm going to have to find some shitty stream today and hope it holds together. Meh.
GKJ
Global Moderator
- Feb 27, 2002
- 190,910
- 42,413
@Beef Invictus as still my assistant gm, you’re game to pick my trial by combat person as I am not a combatist
I don’t have players to pick so @Lord Defect can go
I don’t have players to pick so @Lord Defect can go
Lord Defect
Secretary of Blowtorching
- Nov 13, 2013
- 18,782
- 34,818
193. Chris Romaine, D, Milton Academy (High-MA)
We reserve the right to add a P to the end of his first name.
183. Reid Dyck, G, Swift
We reserve the first to giggle when his name is called.
Back to you @GKJ
We reserve the right to add a P to the end of his first name.
183. Reid Dyck, G, Swift
We reserve the first to giggle when his name is called.
Back to you @GKJ
GKJ
Global Moderator
- Feb 27, 2002
- 190,910
- 42,413
- Sep 28, 2014
- 77,704
- 124,907
Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
Perfect. I think an ideal choice is still on the board.
Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
Oh shit I just remembered an even perfecter choice.
Beef Invictus
Revolutionary Positivity
As @GKJ 's assistant GM, I pick the pick that he will pick with his pick. I pick now. It begins. Be prepared.
As a CHVRCHES fan, everyone knows that GKJ has a soft spot for female singers who live like rock stars. Everyone knows. So, let's pick that for him. GKJ's Trial By Combat champion shall be:
Julie d'Aubigny (La Maupin)
Julie's father was in charge of training pages in the court of Louis XIV. Julie's father also decided that his daughter should be educated too, so he provided her with a full education and also trained her to be a badass fencer, and she quickly asserted herself as among the best of his students. As part of her education she learned to sing, and she was a very accomplished opera singer.
When she was 16 or 17 her singing got her the attention of a noble daughter, who fell in love with Julie. The girl's parents put her in a convent, so Julie disguised herself, broke in, stole a dead nun, hid it in the girl's bed, then set the whole place on fire to cover things up and fake the girl's death. This act carried some legal ramifications, so she went on the run, usually disguised as a man, and otherwise earning her keep by singing. She fought and won her first duel at this point when she met a dude who thought she was also a dude because she was dressed as a dude, and she handily beat him. Then she nursed him back to health and porked him.
She eventually hooked up with a fencing master who was also on the run, and he honed her skills even further.
There is a lot of myth mixed in with fact at this point. She may have fought multiple duels in one night, but that's either a trope in French literature or the inspiration for Three Musketeers. Supposedly, the way she eventually worked was she would show up somewhere, get attention and some coin by singing some songs, then whip out her sword and challenge everyone to a duel. If anyone accepted she'd sing insulting songs about them, then beat them and take their money. If anyone accused her of being a man disguised as a woman she'd whip out her boobs. This got her enough attention that eventually the people running the Paris f***ing Opera went to check her out and hire her, so she performed at the highest level for a bit, while beating the shit out of dudes at night. Like if Batman used his skills to mug people.
And that's basically her life. That's what she did. She travelled, took numerous lovers of all persuasions, fought and won duels, made her way by singing. The original rock star. I'd have drafted her if I'd remembered her sooner. I congratulate you on a prime acquisition.
Whoever is up is up
As a CHVRCHES fan, everyone knows that GKJ has a soft spot for female singers who live like rock stars. Everyone knows. So, let's pick that for him. GKJ's Trial By Combat champion shall be:
Julie d'Aubigny (La Maupin)
Julie's father was in charge of training pages in the court of Louis XIV. Julie's father also decided that his daughter should be educated too, so he provided her with a full education and also trained her to be a badass fencer, and she quickly asserted herself as among the best of his students. As part of her education she learned to sing, and she was a very accomplished opera singer.
When she was 16 or 17 her singing got her the attention of a noble daughter, who fell in love with Julie. The girl's parents put her in a convent, so Julie disguised herself, broke in, stole a dead nun, hid it in the girl's bed, then set the whole place on fire to cover things up and fake the girl's death. This act carried some legal ramifications, so she went on the run, usually disguised as a man, and otherwise earning her keep by singing. She fought and won her first duel at this point when she met a dude who thought she was also a dude because she was dressed as a dude, and she handily beat him. Then she nursed him back to health and porked him.
She eventually hooked up with a fencing master who was also on the run, and he honed her skills even further.
There is a lot of myth mixed in with fact at this point. She may have fought multiple duels in one night, but that's either a trope in French literature or the inspiration for Three Musketeers. Supposedly, the way she eventually worked was she would show up somewhere, get attention and some coin by singing some songs, then whip out her sword and challenge everyone to a duel. If anyone accepted she'd sing insulting songs about them, then beat them and take their money. If anyone accused her of being a man disguised as a woman she'd whip out her boobs. This got her enough attention that eventually the people running the Paris f***ing Opera went to check her out and hire her, so she performed at the highest level for a bit, while beating the shit out of dudes at night. Like if Batman used his skills to mug people.
And that's basically her life. That's what she did. She travelled, took numerous lovers of all persuasions, fought and won duels, made her way by singing. The original rock star. I'd have drafted her if I'd remembered her sooner. I congratulate you on a prime acquisition.
Whoever is up is up
Last edited:
JojoTheWhale
Lemme unload.
- May 22, 2008
- 34,811
- 108,480
Hi, sorry. Not dead. My dad was taken to the ER a few nights ago and it took some time to sort out exactly what was wrong. Long story short, he has a particularly nasty strain of E. coli. He's being discharged today and I'll get on my makeup pick as soon as I get some sleep.
- Status
