PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
And I'm supposed to care........because??????there's an euro game on
Honorary mention to Paul Maurice for dropping F-bombs left & right & saluting his wife for being married to "an asshole for 30 years" !
And I'm supposed to care........because??????there's an euro game on
I F****** LOVE Aaron Ekblad ! Star of the rally for me. He gets up to the mike, puts a traffic cone on his head & shouts "F*** You Brooks Koepka ! "
Once upon a time, in a small town nestled between rolling hills and ancient forests, lived a young man named ixcuincle. His real name was Peter, but online he had always gone by his enigmatic alias. Peter was a solitary soul, spending most of his days in a dimly lit room, surrounded by stacks of old books and an outdated computer.
Peter's life had not been kind to him. He grew up in a tumultuous household, where love was scarce, and arguments were the norm. School offered little solace; he was often the target of bullies and found it difficult to make friends. As a result, he retreated into the world of books and the internet, where he could be anyone he wanted to be and escape the harsh realities of his life.
One gloomy evening, while browsing the web aimlessly, Peter stumbled upon a forum called HFBoards. It was a place where hockey enthusiasts gathered to discuss their favorite sport. Peter had always been a casual hockey fan, but the sense of community he saw on HFBoards intrigued him. Here were people who shared a common passion, who laughed together, argued passionately, and supported each other in ways he had never experienced.
Peter created an account, choosing his long-time alias ixcuincle, and began to explore the forum. Initially, he was a quiet observer, reading threads and getting a feel for the community. But as days turned into weeks, he felt an increasing urge to participate. His first post was a simple comment on a discussion about the best players of the season. It was met with a few friendly replies, and for the first time in a long while, Peter felt a flicker of connection.
As he became more comfortable, Peter started posting more frequently. He discovered that the more he posted, the more responses he received. Each reply, each acknowledgment, was like a drop of water to a man dying of thirst. He soon realized that spamming—posting excessively and often without much substance—brought even more attention. The rapid responses, even the occasional scolding from moderators, filled the void of loneliness that had plagued him for so long.
Day and night, Peter would sit at his computer, crafting posts, stirring up debates, and replying to every comment he could find. His life outside HFBoards faded into the background. The few friends he had drifted away, tired of his constant distraction. His job suffered, but he didn't care. HFBoards had become his world, a place where he was not Peter the lonely outcast, but ixcuincle, the prolific poster.
Peter's dedication to HFBoards became legendary. He posted three times more than anyone else on the forum. His username was everywhere: in every thread, on every topic. Newcomers quickly learned his name, and even long-time members were astounded by his relentless activity. While some admired his enthusiasm, others found his omnipresence overwhelming and even annoying.
Despite the superficial connections he made through spamming, Peter's loneliness did not truly diminish. The attention was fleeting, and the sense of belonging was an illusion. He was still alone in his room, staring at a screen, longing for genuine human connection.
But Peter never took a break. He continued to spam, driven by the desperate need for interaction, however shallow it might be. The more posts he made, the more he felt a part of something, even if it was only an online forum. He became a fixture on HFBoards, known by all but truly understood by none.
In the end, ixcuincle's tale became a cautionary one. He was the king of HFBoards, the user with the most posts, but his reign was a lonely one. He had traded real, meaningful connections for a flood of digital interactions that left him feeling empty. Peter's life was a testament to the dangers of losing oneself in the virtual world while the real world slipped away. Yet, in his own way, he found a place where he could be seen, if not truly known, and that, for him, was enough.
Once upon a time, in a small town nestled between rolling hills and ancient forests, lived a young man named ixcuincle. His real name was Peter, but online he had always gone by his enigmatic alias. Peter was a solitary soul, spending most of his days in a dimly lit room, surrounded by stacks of old books and an outdated computer.
Peter's life had not been kind to him. He grew up in a tumultuous household, where love was scarce, and arguments were the norm. School offered little solace; he was often the target of bullies and found it difficult to make friends. As a result, he retreated into the world of books and the internet, where he could be anyone he wanted to be and escape the harsh realities of his life.
One gloomy evening, while browsing the web aimlessly, Peter stumbled upon a forum called HFBoards. It was a place where hockey enthusiasts gathered to discuss their favorite sport. Peter had always been a casual hockey fan, but the sense of community he saw on HFBoards intrigued him. Here were people who shared a common passion, who laughed together, argued passionately, and supported each other in ways he had never experienced.
Peter created an account, choosing his long-time alias ixcuincle, and began to explore the forum. Initially, he was a quiet observer, reading threads and getting a feel for the community. But as days turned into weeks, he felt an increasing urge to participate. His first post was a simple comment on a discussion about the best players of the season. It was met with a few friendly replies, and for the first time in a long while, Peter felt a flicker of connection.
As he became more comfortable, Peter started posting more frequently. He discovered that the more he posted, the more responses he received. Each reply, each acknowledgment, was like a drop of water to a man dying of thirst. He soon realized that spamming—posting excessively and often without much substance—brought even more attention. The rapid responses, even the occasional scolding from moderators, filled the void of loneliness that had plagued him for so long.
Day and night, Peter would sit at his computer, crafting posts, stirring up debates, and replying to every comment he could find. His life outside HFBoards faded into the background. The few friends he had drifted away, tired of his constant distraction. His job suffered, but he didn't care. HFBoards had become his world, a place where he was not Peter the lonely outcast, but ixcuincle, the prolific poster.
Peter's dedication to HFBoards became legendary. He posted three times more than anyone else on the forum. His username was everywhere: in every thread, on every topic. Newcomers quickly learned his name, and even long-time members were astounded by his relentless activity. While some admired his enthusiasm, others found his omnipresence overwhelming and even annoying.
Despite the superficial connections he made through spamming, Peter's loneliness did not truly diminish. The attention was fleeting, and the sense of belonging was an illusion. He was still alone in his room, staring at a screen, longing for genuine human connection.
But Peter never took a break. He continued to spam, driven by the desperate need for interaction, however shallow it might be. The more posts he made, the more he felt a part of something, even if it was only an online forum. He became a fixture on HFBoards, known by all but truly understood by none.
In the end, ixcuincle's tale became a cautionary one. He was the king of HFBoards, the user with the most posts, but his reign was a lonely one. He had traded real, meaningful connections for a flood of digital interactions that left him feeling empty. Peter's life was a testament to the dangers of losing oneself in the virtual world while the real world slipped away. Yet, in his own way, he found a place where he could be seen, if not truly known, and that, for him, was enough.
update I'm going to take a sick day and lie down some more. not in any condition to do anything todaythink i'm going to walk the few feet over to work and get cracking