John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
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Useless Thread MM: Brenda Walsh Appreciation Thread
- Thread starter John Price
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PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
Just retire already.
Collins booed by Aussie crowd in loss to Keys
Tennis' newest villai, Danielle Collins, was booed and jeered by the Australian Open crowd during her third-round loss to fellow American Madison Keys on Saturday night.www.espn.co.uk
lol the heat
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
GIADF
Not A Mod
- Aug 17, 2024
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Second time I’ve had a neighbors car towed in less than a year and it feels so god damn good.
Two different neighbors at that.
Two different neighbors at that.
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
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Plushies Across Borders
"I've got it," she said, slapping her knee and grinning at us like she'd just solved world hunger. "Zimbabwe!"
I blinked. "Zimbabwe?"
"Zimbabwe!" she repeated, louder this time. “That’s where we’ll build the Plushie Kingdom! A global empire, starting in Africa!”
John’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “I like it. Plushies on safari! We could have plush lions, plush zebras, plush elephants…”
“And plush warthogs!” Brenda added excitedly.
I buried my face in my hands. “You two do realize Zimbabwe is on the other side of the planet, right? And we don’t have money. Or passports. Or, you know, any sense of reason.”
Brenda waved a hand dismissively. “Details, details. What we do have is a vision!” She jumped to her feet, dramatically pointing at the horizon. “Plushies for the world! It’s a real zinger!”
I groaned. “You mean a real banger?”
“No,” she said, turning to me with a smirk. “That’s the old me. The new Brenda says zinger. It’s fresher, snappier. Like my lasagna.”
Step 1: Sell lasagna to raise money for plane tickets.
Step 2: Convince the Zimbabwean government to give them land for a plushie safari park.
Step 3: Dominate the global plushie market.
“Simple, yet genius,” Brenda declared, scribbling their plan on the back of a greasy lasagna pan.
“You forgot the part where none of this makes any sense,” I muttered.
“Don’t be such a downer,” Juan said, stuffing a plush giraffe into his backpack. “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”
“Think of what? A scheme so insane it’ll get us thrown in an international prison?”
Brenda ignored me, pulling out her phone to Google flights to Africa. “Do you think we could pay for tickets with lasagna?”
“We’ll stow away on a cargo ship,” she announced over breakfast, which consisted of stale tortillas and melted chocolate Juan had found in his backpack.
“A cargo ship?” I repeated. “Do you even know where to find one?”
“Details, darling,” Brenda said with a wink. “I’ve got connections.”
It turned out her "connections" were just Marco, the disgruntled coyote who had helped us cross into Mexico. After much pleading (and another lasagna bribe), he reluctantly agreed to drive us to a port city where we could sneak onto a ship bound for Africa.
As we climbed into Marco’s truck, I couldn’t help but mutter, “This is going to end in disaster.”
“Disaster?” Brenda said, grinning at me from the passenger seat. “No, my friend. This is going to end in Zimbabwe.”
Sneaking onboard was surprisingly easy—probably because no one in their right mind would expect three lunatics and a backpack full of plushies to attempt such a thing. We hid in a storage container packed with crates of bananas, which Juan immediately declared his “plushie throne room.”
As the ship set sail, Brenda leaned back against a crate, a smug smile on her face. “See? I told you this would work.”
I sighed. “You do realize we have no idea where this ship is going, right?”
“Details!” she chirped.
“We need to brand ourselves,” she said, holding up a plush tiger she’d pulled from Juan’s bag. “If we’re going to rule the plushie world, we need a mascot.”
“How about something realistic,” I said dryly. “Like a plushie of an international fugitive.”
Brenda ignored me, turning to Juan. “What do you think? Maybe a plushie eagle, to symbolize freedom?”
Juan shook his head. “Nah, it’s gotta be a plushie warthog. They’re underrated.”
Brenda gasped. “You’re a genius!”
As they brainstormed plushie slogans, I sat in the corner of the container, silently praying that the ship wasn’t actually headed for Zimbabwe.
But deep down, I knew better. With Brenda and Juan in charge, anything was possible—and none of it would be good.
Chapter 11: A Dream of Zimbabwe
The fire burned low as Brenda leaned in, eyes gleaming with the wild determination of someone who had lost all grip on reality."I've got it," she said, slapping her knee and grinning at us like she'd just solved world hunger. "Zimbabwe!"
I blinked. "Zimbabwe?"
"Zimbabwe!" she repeated, louder this time. “That’s where we’ll build the Plushie Kingdom! A global empire, starting in Africa!”
John’s face lit up like a kid on Christmas morning. “I like it. Plushies on safari! We could have plush lions, plush zebras, plush elephants…”
“And plush warthogs!” Brenda added excitedly.
I buried my face in my hands. “You two do realize Zimbabwe is on the other side of the planet, right? And we don’t have money. Or passports. Or, you know, any sense of reason.”
Brenda waved a hand dismissively. “Details, details. What we do have is a vision!” She jumped to her feet, dramatically pointing at the horizon. “Plushies for the world! It’s a real zinger!”
I groaned. “You mean a real banger?”
“No,” she said, turning to me with a smirk. “That’s the old me. The new Brenda says zinger. It’s fresher, snappier. Like my lasagna.”
Chapter 12: The Plan
By the next morning, Brenda and John—who was now fully embracing his rebranded name of Juan again—had an elaborate, half-baked plan to smuggle themselves to Zimbabwe.Step 1: Sell lasagna to raise money for plane tickets.
Step 2: Convince the Zimbabwean government to give them land for a plushie safari park.
Step 3: Dominate the global plushie market.
“Simple, yet genius,” Brenda declared, scribbling their plan on the back of a greasy lasagna pan.
“You forgot the part where none of this makes any sense,” I muttered.
“Don’t be such a downer,” Juan said, stuffing a plush giraffe into his backpack. “You’re just mad you didn’t think of it first.”
“Think of what? A scheme so insane it’ll get us thrown in an international prison?”
Brenda ignored me, pulling out her phone to Google flights to Africa. “Do you think we could pay for tickets with lasagna?”
Chapter 13: Hitching a Ride
Unable to raise the funds for actual plane tickets, Brenda hatched a new plan.“We’ll stow away on a cargo ship,” she announced over breakfast, which consisted of stale tortillas and melted chocolate Juan had found in his backpack.
“A cargo ship?” I repeated. “Do you even know where to find one?”
“Details, darling,” Brenda said with a wink. “I’ve got connections.”
It turned out her "connections" were just Marco, the disgruntled coyote who had helped us cross into Mexico. After much pleading (and another lasagna bribe), he reluctantly agreed to drive us to a port city where we could sneak onto a ship bound for Africa.
As we climbed into Marco’s truck, I couldn’t help but mutter, “This is going to end in disaster.”
“Disaster?” Brenda said, grinning at me from the passenger seat. “No, my friend. This is going to end in Zimbabwe.”
Chapter 14: The Cargo Ship Incident
Arriving at the port, we found a massive ship labeled The Sea Gazelle. Brenda, ever the optimist, decided it was "destiny."Sneaking onboard was surprisingly easy—probably because no one in their right mind would expect three lunatics and a backpack full of plushies to attempt such a thing. We hid in a storage container packed with crates of bananas, which Juan immediately declared his “plushie throne room.”
As the ship set sail, Brenda leaned back against a crate, a smug smile on her face. “See? I told you this would work.”
I sighed. “You do realize we have no idea where this ship is going, right?”
“Details!” she chirped.
Chapter 15: Brenda’s Big Idea
After two days at sea, surviving on stolen bananas and stale crackers, Brenda came up with yet another idea.“We need to brand ourselves,” she said, holding up a plush tiger she’d pulled from Juan’s bag. “If we’re going to rule the plushie world, we need a mascot.”
“How about something realistic,” I said dryly. “Like a plushie of an international fugitive.”
Brenda ignored me, turning to Juan. “What do you think? Maybe a plushie eagle, to symbolize freedom?”
Juan shook his head. “Nah, it’s gotta be a plushie warthog. They’re underrated.”
Brenda gasped. “You’re a genius!”
As they brainstormed plushie slogans, I sat in the corner of the container, silently praying that the ship wasn’t actually headed for Zimbabwe.
But deep down, I knew better. With Brenda and Juan in charge, anything was possible—and none of it would be good.
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,569
- 18,405
Plushies in Montreal
“Is it just me,” I whispered, “or does this not feel like Zimbabwe?”
Brenda sniffed the air dramatically. “Nonsense. That’s the crisp aroma of opportunity!” She squinted at the French signs plastered along the dock. “What’s this? Are we in Paris?”
Juan, already holding a plushie warthog aloft like some kind of deranged conqueror, frowned. “Uh… I think we’re in Canada.”
I groaned. “Montreal. We’re in Montreal.”
Brenda clapped her hands, undeterred. “Even better! French culture, maple syrup, and hockey! This is destiny!”
“No,” I said firmly. “This is a disaster.”
“It’s a niche market,” Brenda explained as we trudged through the snowy streets. “People want lasagna, and they want plushies. Why not both?”
Juan, dragging a suitcase stuffed with warthogs and giraffes, nodded eagerly. “We’ll call it the Plush-nagna Experience.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not a word.”
Before Brenda could respond, a voice behind us drawled, “Long time no see.”
We all froze. Turning slowly, I saw Agent Hargrave leaning casually against a lamppost, wearing a long trench coat and a smirk.
“You!” Brenda spat, clutching her lasagna pan like a weapon.
“Miss me?” Hargrave said, flipping open a badge. “Welcome to Canada. You’re under surveillance. Again.”
“You three have caused an international incident,” he said, stirring his espresso. “Stowing away on a cargo ship, evading authorities, unpaid taxes... the list goes on.”
Brenda waved him off. “Details. What do you want, Hargrave?”
He leaned forward. “Simple. I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any more chaos. The second you step out of line, you’re done. Got it?”
Brenda narrowed her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
As Hargrave left the café, Juan leaned over to whisper, “He didn’t confiscate my warthogs. We’re still in business.”
Brenda grinned. “And the Plush-nagna Experience lives on!”
I groaned into my coffee. “Why am I still here?”
“This is genius,” Brenda said, arranging a pyramid of lasagna slices next to a stack of plush penguins.
“Pure genius,” Juan agreed, stuffing a handful of lasagna into his mouth.
Within minutes, a crowd had gathered—not to buy anything, but to gawk. Brenda, ever the salesperson, began shouting her new catchphrase: “Lasagna and plushies! It’s a real zinger!”
Hargrave watched from the shadows, shaking his head. “I give it an hour before this blows up.”
“Well, well,” Hargrave said, stepping into view. “What do we have here?”
Brenda froze. “You again? What now?”
Hargrave held up the plush eagle. “This little guy? It’s a listening device. You’ve been under surveillance since you left the States.”
Juan gasped. “You spied on my warthog collection?”
“Among other things,” Hargrave replied dryly. “But don’t worry. I’m here to help… for now.”
Brenda narrowed her eyes. “Help us? Why?”
Hargrave leaned in, a sly smile on his face. “Because if you’re going to cause chaos, I might as well steer it in the right direction.”
As he walked away, Brenda turned to me, her eyes gleaming. “You hear that? We’ve got government backing!”
“That’s not what he said,” I muttered.
But it was too late. Brenda and Juan were already planning their next move—and I had a sinking feeling Montreal wasn’t ready for what was coming next.
Chapter 16: A Cold Reception
The Sea Gazelle docked with a groaning shudder, and as the three of us peered out from behind crates of bananas, I felt a chill in the air that wasn’t just from my sense of impending doom.“Is it just me,” I whispered, “or does this not feel like Zimbabwe?”
Brenda sniffed the air dramatically. “Nonsense. That’s the crisp aroma of opportunity!” She squinted at the French signs plastered along the dock. “What’s this? Are we in Paris?”
Juan, already holding a plushie warthog aloft like some kind of deranged conqueror, frowned. “Uh… I think we’re in Canada.”
I groaned. “Montreal. We’re in Montreal.”
Brenda clapped her hands, undeterred. “Even better! French culture, maple syrup, and hockey! This is destiny!”
“No,” I said firmly. “This is a disaster.”
Chapter 17: The Return of Hargrave
After sneaking off the ship and wandering into the city, Brenda and Juan concocted yet another harebrained scheme: to “take over” Montreal’s plushie scene. Their plan involved renting a booth at a local market and selling Brenda’s “custom” lasagna-plushie combos.“It’s a niche market,” Brenda explained as we trudged through the snowy streets. “People want lasagna, and they want plushies. Why not both?”
Juan, dragging a suitcase stuffed with warthogs and giraffes, nodded eagerly. “We’ll call it the Plush-nagna Experience.”
I rolled my eyes. “That’s not a word.”
Before Brenda could respond, a voice behind us drawled, “Long time no see.”
We all froze. Turning slowly, I saw Agent Hargrave leaning casually against a lamppost, wearing a long trench coat and a smirk.
“You!” Brenda spat, clutching her lasagna pan like a weapon.
“Miss me?” Hargrave said, flipping open a badge. “Welcome to Canada. You’re under surveillance. Again.”
Chapter 18: Hargrave’s Offer
Over coffee in a small café, Hargrave explained why he was back.“You three have caused an international incident,” he said, stirring his espresso. “Stowing away on a cargo ship, evading authorities, unpaid taxes... the list goes on.”
Brenda waved him off. “Details. What do you want, Hargrave?”
He leaned forward. “Simple. I’m here to make sure you don’t cause any more chaos. The second you step out of line, you’re done. Got it?”
Brenda narrowed her eyes. “We’ll see about that.”
As Hargrave left the café, Juan leaned over to whisper, “He didn’t confiscate my warthogs. We’re still in business.”
Brenda grinned. “And the Plush-nagna Experience lives on!”
I groaned into my coffee. “Why am I still here?”
Chapter 19: Market Madness
The following day, Brenda and Juan set up their makeshift booth at the Jean-Talon Market. Their table was a chaotic mess of lasagna samples, plushie animals, and homemade signs reading “Plushies + Lasagna = Joy!”“This is genius,” Brenda said, arranging a pyramid of lasagna slices next to a stack of plush penguins.
“Pure genius,” Juan agreed, stuffing a handful of lasagna into his mouth.
Within minutes, a crowd had gathered—not to buy anything, but to gawk. Brenda, ever the salesperson, began shouting her new catchphrase: “Lasagna and plushies! It’s a real zinger!”
Hargrave watched from the shadows, shaking his head. “I give it an hour before this blows up.”
Chapter 20: A Familiar Face
Just as I was about to slip away, a commotion erupted at the booth. A man in a dark suit had stepped forward, holding a tiny plush eagle.“Well, well,” Hargrave said, stepping into view. “What do we have here?”
Brenda froze. “You again? What now?”
Hargrave held up the plush eagle. “This little guy? It’s a listening device. You’ve been under surveillance since you left the States.”
Juan gasped. “You spied on my warthog collection?”
“Among other things,” Hargrave replied dryly. “But don’t worry. I’m here to help… for now.”
Brenda narrowed her eyes. “Help us? Why?”
Hargrave leaned in, a sly smile on his face. “Because if you’re going to cause chaos, I might as well steer it in the right direction.”
As he walked away, Brenda turned to me, her eyes gleaming. “You hear that? We’ve got government backing!”
“That’s not what he said,” I muttered.
But it was too late. Brenda and Juan were already planning their next move—and I had a sinking feeling Montreal wasn’t ready for what was coming next.
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
CB Lucas leaves UW for Miami, bypasses portal
The lawyer for Xavier Lucas says the former Wisconsin player is transferring to Miami, even though the cornerback's former school never entered his name into the portal.
Mantis
I am a doctah
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
But keep telling us how awful Mario is.CB Lucas leaves UW for Miami, bypasses portal
The lawyer for Xavier Lucas says the former Wisconsin player is transferring to Miami, even though the cornerback's former school never entered his name into the portal.
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,471
- 31,916
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
Happy Hockey Day In Canada ! 
