John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
Useless Thread MM: RIP Bob Uecker - "Just a bit outside"
- Thread starter John Price
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PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
Sega Dreamcast
party like it's 1999
Mind-numbing is a good way to describe it, as they found the least interesting way to tell the story.
It absolutely felt like a movie directed by a 94 year old man.
GIADF
Not A Mod
- Aug 17, 2024
- 2,802
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John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
LeBron acknowledges fires have taken mental toll
LeBron James on Wednesday addressed the toll taken by the Southern California wildfires and the hope the Lakers want to provide, and found connection with a young fan during a win over the Heat.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
Well, you should consult with the person who created her........award winning writer Soupy !
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
"Birdbrain" BrendaWell, you should consult with the person who created her........award winning writer Soupy !
Sega Dreamcast
party like it's 1999
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
Sega Dreamcast
party like it's 1999
Sega Dreamcast
party like it's 1999
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,531
- 18,311
The Plushie Escape
The crowd buzzed with excitement as Kim Jong-un arrived in his blacked-out limousine, flanked by stern-faced bodyguards. Dressed in his signature gray suit, he strode toward the resort’s entrance, nodding approvingly at the teddy bear-shaped hotel.
“This,” he said, “is whimsy.”
Juan and Sandy—decked out in matching plushie-themed tuxedos—beamed with pride as they greeted him. “We’re honored by your presence, Supreme Leader,” Sandy said with a dramatic bow.
Juan held up his otter plushie. “This is for the plushies.”
Kim raised an eyebrow but said nothing, heading straight for the hamburger stand.
“It’s undercooked,” he said, his tone icy.
The crowd fell silent.
“What kind of operation are you running here?” Kim demanded, his voice rising. “Who is responsible for this?”
Sandy stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation. “Oh, Supreme Leader, surely it’s just a small mistake—”
Kim cut her off. “You. Both of you. You’re not who you say you are.”
The crowd gasped as Kim’s bodyguards held up photographs of Juan and Sandy from their past lives as John and Brenda.
“You’re fugitives,” Kim snarled. “Thieves. Frauds. You’ve defiled the honor of whimsy with your lies!”
Juan clutched his otter plushie. “We can’t leave the plushies behind!”
“There won’t be any plushies if we don’t run!” I snapped, dragging him toward the exit.
The three of us bolted through the resort, dodging security and bewildered guests. We reached the docks, where the stolen Brazilian Navy frigate was still moored, though it was now painted in bright pastel colors and covered in plushie decorations.
Juan clambered aboard, gasping for breath. “Get the engines going!”
Sandy followed, shouting orders like a seasoned sea captain. “Hoist the anchor! Plushies to the wind!”
I couldn’t believe this was my life.
Juan, in a rare moment of boldness, grabbed a plushie cannon and launched a teddy bear in Kim’s direction. It landed harmlessly in the water, but the gesture was enough to earn his ire.
“Full speed ahead!” Sandy yelled, gripping the wheel with manic glee.
The frigate roared to life, speeding away from the North Korean coast and back toward open waters.
Juan was already planning his next move, muttering about “plushie diplomacy” and “avenging the plushies.”
Sandy, ever unflappable, stood at the helm with a steely determination. “We’ll regroup in Brazil,” she said. “This isn’t over.”
And somehow, I knew she was right.
To be continued...
Chapter 1: The Grand Opening
The grand opening of Plushie Paradise: Pyongyang Edition was a spectacle unlike anything North Korea—or the world—had ever seen. The resort was decked out with confetti cannons, plushie dancers, and a plushie-themed orchestra that played surprisingly passable renditions of pop songs.The crowd buzzed with excitement as Kim Jong-un arrived in his blacked-out limousine, flanked by stern-faced bodyguards. Dressed in his signature gray suit, he strode toward the resort’s entrance, nodding approvingly at the teddy bear-shaped hotel.
“This,” he said, “is whimsy.”
Juan and Sandy—decked out in matching plushie-themed tuxedos—beamed with pride as they greeted him. “We’re honored by your presence, Supreme Leader,” Sandy said with a dramatic bow.
Juan held up his otter plushie. “This is for the plushies.”
Kim raised an eyebrow but said nothing, heading straight for the hamburger stand.
Chapter 2: The Incident
The stand was one of Juan’s personal contributions to the resort—a nod to his belief that plushies and fast food were a natural pairing. But trouble struck when Kim bit into his burger and froze.“It’s undercooked,” he said, his tone icy.
The crowd fell silent.
“What kind of operation are you running here?” Kim demanded, his voice rising. “Who is responsible for this?”
Sandy stepped forward, trying to salvage the situation. “Oh, Supreme Leader, surely it’s just a small mistake—”
Kim cut her off. “You. Both of you. You’re not who you say you are.”
The crowd gasped as Kim’s bodyguards held up photographs of Juan and Sandy from their past lives as John and Brenda.
“You’re fugitives,” Kim snarled. “Thieves. Frauds. You’ve defiled the honor of whimsy with your lies!”
Chapter 3: The Escape
Chaos erupted as the bodyguards closed in. Sandy grabbed my arm. “We need to go. Now.”Juan clutched his otter plushie. “We can’t leave the plushies behind!”
“There won’t be any plushies if we don’t run!” I snapped, dragging him toward the exit.
The three of us bolted through the resort, dodging security and bewildered guests. We reached the docks, where the stolen Brazilian Navy frigate was still moored, though it was now painted in bright pastel colors and covered in plushie decorations.
Juan clambered aboard, gasping for breath. “Get the engines going!”
Sandy followed, shouting orders like a seasoned sea captain. “Hoist the anchor! Plushies to the wind!”
I couldn’t believe this was my life.
Chapter 4: Back to the Sea
As the frigate pulled away from the docks, Kim Jong-un himself appeared on the shoreline, flanked by soldiers. “You’ll pay for this!” he shouted, shaking his fist.Juan, in a rare moment of boldness, grabbed a plushie cannon and launched a teddy bear in Kim’s direction. It landed harmlessly in the water, but the gesture was enough to earn his ire.
“Full speed ahead!” Sandy yelled, gripping the wheel with manic glee.
The frigate roared to life, speeding away from the North Korean coast and back toward open waters.
Chapter 5: To Be Continued
As the North Korean coastline faded into the distance, I leaned against the railing, wondering how I’d gotten roped into this madness yet again.Juan was already planning his next move, muttering about “plushie diplomacy” and “avenging the plushies.”
Sandy, ever unflappable, stood at the helm with a steely determination. “We’ll regroup in Brazil,” she said. “This isn’t over.”
And somehow, I knew she was right.
To be continued...
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,531
- 18,311
The Plushie Exiles: Docking in Honduras
Sandy clung to the wheel, her once-perfectly-coiffed hair now a tangled mess. “Hold steady, Juan!” she screamed over the roar of the storm.
Juan, who had tied himself to the mast with plushie ropes, was shouting nonsensically. “The plushies will protect us! They’re our fluffy guardians!”
I was below deck, trying not to lose my lunch as the ship rocked violently. I cursed every life choice that had led me to this moment.
Miraculously, the storm began to subside just as we thought all hope was lost. The frigate, though battered and missing several plushie decorations, stayed afloat.
Sandy wiped rainwater from her face. “We’re alive,” she whispered. Then, louder: “We’re alive! The plushies saved us!”
Sandy nodded grimly. “The narrator’s right. We need to lay low somewhere.”
Juan, still clutching his soggy otter plushie, stared at the map. “Central America. It’s warm, it’s tropical, and they probably won’t ask too many questions.”
After some debate, we decided on Honduras. The coastal city of La Ceiba, known for its vibrant Carnival and laid-back vibe, seemed like the perfect place to blend in—or so we hoped.
We docked at a secluded pier, avoiding the main harbor to keep a low profile. As we stepped onto solid ground, Sandy turned to me with a wide grin. “Isn’t this exciting? A fresh start!”
I groaned. “It’s only exciting because you’re delusional.”
Juan, however, couldn’t resist drawing attention. Within days, he’d started setting up a plushie stand in the local market, selling stuffed animals he claimed were “blessed by the sea.”
“The plushies must live on,” he explained when I confronted him.
Meanwhile, Sandy was networking with the locals, spinning wild tales about how she and Juan were “philanthropists on a global plushie mission.”
One day, as we sat in the villa’s garden, Sandy turned to me with her trademark conspiratorial grin. “We need to think bigger,” she said. “This is just the beginning.”
Juan nodded solemnly. “The plushie revolution will not be stopped.”
I buried my face in my hands, dreading whatever madness they were about to unleash.
To be continued...
Chapter 1: The Storm
The typhoon came out of nowhere, a monstrous wall of wind and rain that tossed the frigate like a toy boat. Plushies were torn from their decorative perches, flying into the ocean like some surreal sacrifice to the sea gods.Sandy clung to the wheel, her once-perfectly-coiffed hair now a tangled mess. “Hold steady, Juan!” she screamed over the roar of the storm.
Juan, who had tied himself to the mast with plushie ropes, was shouting nonsensically. “The plushies will protect us! They’re our fluffy guardians!”
I was below deck, trying not to lose my lunch as the ship rocked violently. I cursed every life choice that had led me to this moment.
Miraculously, the storm began to subside just as we thought all hope was lost. The frigate, though battered and missing several plushie decorations, stayed afloat.
Sandy wiped rainwater from her face. “We’re alive,” she whispered. Then, louder: “We’re alive! The plushies saved us!”
Chapter 2: A New Plan
As dawn broke, the frigate drifted toward calmer waters. I stumbled onto the deck, drenched and exhausted. “We can’t go back to Brazil,” I said. “They’ll be waiting for us.”Sandy nodded grimly. “The narrator’s right. We need to lay low somewhere.”
Juan, still clutching his soggy otter plushie, stared at the map. “Central America. It’s warm, it’s tropical, and they probably won’t ask too many questions.”
After some debate, we decided on Honduras. The coastal city of La Ceiba, known for its vibrant Carnival and laid-back vibe, seemed like the perfect place to blend in—or so we hoped.
Chapter 3: Docking in Honduras
The frigate limped into the harbor at La Ceiba, its once-colorful plushie decorations now a patchwork of waterlogged fluff. Sandy had somehow fashioned herself a new captain’s hat out of scraps of plushie fabric, and Juan had tied his otter plushie around his neck like a scarf.We docked at a secluded pier, avoiding the main harbor to keep a low profile. As we stepped onto solid ground, Sandy turned to me with a wide grin. “Isn’t this exciting? A fresh start!”
I groaned. “It’s only exciting because you’re delusional.”
Chapter 4: Laying Low
Honduras turned out to be a surprisingly good place to hide. Sandy rented a small villa on the outskirts of town using a stash of emergency cash she’d hidden in a plushie. The villa was charming, with a lush garden and a view of the ocean.Juan, however, couldn’t resist drawing attention. Within days, he’d started setting up a plushie stand in the local market, selling stuffed animals he claimed were “blessed by the sea.”
“The plushies must live on,” he explained when I confronted him.
Meanwhile, Sandy was networking with the locals, spinning wild tales about how she and Juan were “philanthropists on a global plushie mission.”
Chapter 5: Trouble Brewing
Despite their attempts to keep a low profile, it didn’t take long for the locals to grow suspicious of the eccentric duo with the plushie-covered frigate. Rumors began to swirl, and I found myself constantly looking over my shoulder.One day, as we sat in the villa’s garden, Sandy turned to me with her trademark conspiratorial grin. “We need to think bigger,” she said. “This is just the beginning.”
Juan nodded solemnly. “The plushie revolution will not be stopped.”
I buried my face in my hands, dreading whatever madness they were about to unleash.
To be continued...
Oogie Boogie
Registered User
- Apr 9, 2011
- 24,256
- 3,271
SoupNazi
Keeps paying for Hangman’s OF to get promoted
- Feb 6, 2010
- 27,531
- 18,311
How dare you talk about your mother that way. Go to your room, young man.
Oh, wait…
GET OUT OF YOUR BEDROOM, YOUNG MAN!
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
INT. LUXURIOUS RESTAURANT – NIGHT
The room is decorated with chandeliers, plush seating, and a buzz of muted conversations. The camera pans to a table where Kyle Richards and Lisa Vanderpump sit across from each other, their tension palpable.
KYLE
Lisa, I don’t understand why you always twist everything I say. It’s exhausting!
LISA (sipping her rosé with an air of calm)
Oh, darling, I don’t twist anything. I simply repeat it, and suddenly it doesn’t sound so clever, does it?
KYLE (leaning forward, defensive)
See, there it is again. You’re always trying to make me look bad.
LISA (raising an eyebrow)
I don’t have to try very hard, Kyle. You do that all on your own.
KYLE
That’s rich, coming from someone who’s been meddling in everyone’s business for years. You act like you’re above it all, but you’re the queen of manipulation!
LISA (placing her glass down, her voice sharpening)
Manipulation? Oh, please. If I were truly as conniving as you claim, you’d be doing far better in life right now.
KYLE (scoffing)
At least I’m honest, Lisa. I don’t hide behind snarky remarks and pretend to be everyone’s friend.
LISA (smiling slyly)
Honest? Is that what we’re calling it now? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks more like cluelessness. You wouldn’t know the truth if it was served to you on a silver platter.
KYLE
Excuse me?
LISA (leaning in, her voice dripping with sarcasm)
Oh, come now, birdbrain. Don’t act so surprised.
KYLE (eyes widening)
Birdbrain? Did you really just call me that?
LISA (shrugging nonchalantly)
Well, if the feather fits, darling.
KYLE (raising her voice, flustered)
You are unbelievable, Lisa! You can’t just go around insulting people and then play it off like it’s some clever British humor.
LISA (leaning back with a smug smile)
It’s not my fault you can’t keep up, Kyle.
KYLE (standing up, shaking her head)
You know what? I’m done. Enjoy your little game, Lisa. I’m out.
LISA (waving her off, chuckling)
Oh, do run along, dear. Maybe you’ll find a thought or two on your way out.
Kyle storms out, leaving Lisa sitting at the table, casually sipping her wine, unbothered.
LISA (to herself, smirking)
Birdbrain. That might be my finest one yet.
FADE OUT.
The room is decorated with chandeliers, plush seating, and a buzz of muted conversations. The camera pans to a table where Kyle Richards and Lisa Vanderpump sit across from each other, their tension palpable.
KYLE
Lisa, I don’t understand why you always twist everything I say. It’s exhausting!
LISA (sipping her rosé with an air of calm)
Oh, darling, I don’t twist anything. I simply repeat it, and suddenly it doesn’t sound so clever, does it?
KYLE (leaning forward, defensive)
See, there it is again. You’re always trying to make me look bad.
LISA (raising an eyebrow)
I don’t have to try very hard, Kyle. You do that all on your own.
KYLE
That’s rich, coming from someone who’s been meddling in everyone’s business for years. You act like you’re above it all, but you’re the queen of manipulation!
LISA (placing her glass down, her voice sharpening)
Manipulation? Oh, please. If I were truly as conniving as you claim, you’d be doing far better in life right now.
KYLE (scoffing)
At least I’m honest, Lisa. I don’t hide behind snarky remarks and pretend to be everyone’s friend.
LISA (smiling slyly)
Honest? Is that what we’re calling it now? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks more like cluelessness. You wouldn’t know the truth if it was served to you on a silver platter.
KYLE
Excuse me?
LISA (leaning in, her voice dripping with sarcasm)
Oh, come now, birdbrain. Don’t act so surprised.
KYLE (eyes widening)
Birdbrain? Did you really just call me that?
LISA (shrugging nonchalantly)
Well, if the feather fits, darling.
KYLE (raising her voice, flustered)
You are unbelievable, Lisa! You can’t just go around insulting people and then play it off like it’s some clever British humor.
LISA (leaning back with a smug smile)
It’s not my fault you can’t keep up, Kyle.
KYLE (standing up, shaking her head)
You know what? I’m done. Enjoy your little game, Lisa. I’m out.
LISA (waving her off, chuckling)
Oh, do run along, dear. Maybe you’ll find a thought or two on your way out.
Kyle storms out, leaving Lisa sitting at the table, casually sipping her wine, unbothered.
LISA (to herself, smirking)
Birdbrain. That might be my finest one yet.
FADE OUT.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
INT. DUGOUT – NIGHT
The Cleveland Guardians’ dugout is tense. Clase has just given up a grand slam, and the team trails 5-2 in the ninth inning. The stadium crowd is roaring, but in the dugout, it’s eerily quiet.
Stephen Vogt, standing near the bench, claps his hands loudly to get everyone’s attention.
STEPHEN VOGT
Alright, listen up, guys! I know that wasn’t the way we wanted that inning to go, but we’re not done. Not by a long shot!
(Players exchange glances, some looking down at the ground.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Hey, heads up! Look at me. Look around you. This is baseball—we’ve all been here before. You know what? Every single one of us has been counted out at some point. And every single time, we’ve proven people wrong.
(He points at the field, his voice rising with passion.)
STEPHEN VOGT
That scoreboard? It doesn’t define us. What defines us is how we fight right now. Three runs? That’s nothing! We’ve got the bats, we’ve got the heart, and we’ve got each other.
(He steps closer to the players, making eye contact with each one.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Clase, shake it off, man. It happens. You’re one of the best in the game. Don’t hang your head. This team? We’ve got your back.
(Clase nods slightly, encouraged.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Now, listen. Let’s go out there and make something happen. One at-bat at a time. One pitch at a time. Stay locked in. Because I don’t care how loud their fans are—we’re about to make some noise of our own.
(The players start nodding, a few clapping and murmuring words of agreement.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Who’s with me?
(The dugout erupts into cheers and claps. The team grabs their helmets, bats, and gloves, rallying together.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Let’s go show them what Cleveland baseball is all about!
(The team charges out of the dugout, ready to fight back.)
FADE OUT.
The Cleveland Guardians’ dugout is tense. Clase has just given up a grand slam, and the team trails 5-2 in the ninth inning. The stadium crowd is roaring, but in the dugout, it’s eerily quiet.
Stephen Vogt, standing near the bench, claps his hands loudly to get everyone’s attention.
STEPHEN VOGT
Alright, listen up, guys! I know that wasn’t the way we wanted that inning to go, but we’re not done. Not by a long shot!
(Players exchange glances, some looking down at the ground.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Hey, heads up! Look at me. Look around you. This is baseball—we’ve all been here before. You know what? Every single one of us has been counted out at some point. And every single time, we’ve proven people wrong.
(He points at the field, his voice rising with passion.)
STEPHEN VOGT
That scoreboard? It doesn’t define us. What defines us is how we fight right now. Three runs? That’s nothing! We’ve got the bats, we’ve got the heart, and we’ve got each other.
(He steps closer to the players, making eye contact with each one.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Clase, shake it off, man. It happens. You’re one of the best in the game. Don’t hang your head. This team? We’ve got your back.
(Clase nods slightly, encouraged.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Now, listen. Let’s go out there and make something happen. One at-bat at a time. One pitch at a time. Stay locked in. Because I don’t care how loud their fans are—we’re about to make some noise of our own.
(The players start nodding, a few clapping and murmuring words of agreement.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Who’s with me?
(The dugout erupts into cheers and claps. The team grabs their helmets, bats, and gloves, rallying together.)
STEPHEN VOGT
Let’s go show them what Cleveland baseball is all about!
(The team charges out of the dugout, ready to fight back.)
FADE OUT.
PanthersPens62
Paul & Stanley
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
I was one of the people who got into VPR after Scandoval. The first time I went back and watched from the beginning. I was shocked how much I didn't like Ariana.
I am on my 2nd rewatch and Ariana never thought her or Sandoval were wrong. She helped fuel the ego that went and betrayed her. Did she or anyone deserve what happened to her? No, absolutely not. But did she help Tom skirt accountability for years on end? Yes, absolutely yes.
When anyone had a problem with Tom, she defended him to the death. There was no gray area, Tom was always absolutely right and everyone else was wrong.
I love the woman Ariana is NOW, but I wish she would have pulled her head out of her ass and not blindly defend Tom and a lot of the men over and over again. Don't get me started on her defending James when he was aggressive towards women repeatedly.
And I am by no means saying she deserved to be cheated on or lied to. I am just shocked at how different she was from this idea of her I had in my head. She was blindly in love and maybe it took something as big as Scandoval to snap her out of it. She was also battling depression for years, so I hope this new life she created is giving her the fulfillment she always wanted. She does deserve to be happy.
Also, I do think Sandoval started getting super egotistical after TomTom. I think that is when he started feeling better than people, even Schwartz. Saying things like "Schwartz doesn't even know how to clock in" when the whole Stassi book signing drama happened. (Why would an owner need to clock in?) Tom seemed a lot more empathetic in the first seasons, even though he was cheating on Kristen constantly. Maybe he was just able to hide the ego more because it wasn't as inflated yet. TomTom gave him justification to act holier than thou.
I am on my 2nd rewatch and Ariana never thought her or Sandoval were wrong. She helped fuel the ego that went and betrayed her. Did she or anyone deserve what happened to her? No, absolutely not. But did she help Tom skirt accountability for years on end? Yes, absolutely yes.
When anyone had a problem with Tom, she defended him to the death. There was no gray area, Tom was always absolutely right and everyone else was wrong.
I love the woman Ariana is NOW, but I wish she would have pulled her head out of her ass and not blindly defend Tom and a lot of the men over and over again. Don't get me started on her defending James when he was aggressive towards women repeatedly.
And I am by no means saying she deserved to be cheated on or lied to. I am just shocked at how different she was from this idea of her I had in my head. She was blindly in love and maybe it took something as big as Scandoval to snap her out of it. She was also battling depression for years, so I hope this new life she created is giving her the fulfillment she always wanted. She does deserve to be happy.
Also, I do think Sandoval started getting super egotistical after TomTom. I think that is when he started feeling better than people, even Schwartz. Saying things like "Schwartz doesn't even know how to clock in" when the whole Stassi book signing drama happened. (Why would an owner need to clock in?) Tom seemed a lot more empathetic in the first seasons, even though he was cheating on Kristen constantly. Maybe he was just able to hide the ego more because it wasn't as inflated yet. TomTom gave him justification to act holier than thou.
John Price
pro gambler/drinker
- Sep 19, 2008
- 388,359
- 31,881
Lookin' at my bitch, I bet she give your
Lookin' at my wrist, it'll turn your ass to stone
Stretch limousine, sipping rosé all alone
Double-headed monster with a mind of his own
Lookin' at my wrist, it'll turn your ass to stone
Stretch limousine, sipping rosé all alone
Double-headed monster with a mind of his own
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