#11921 ·
Your heads are basically just there to keep the rain from falling straight into your stomachs, isn't that right?
Offside Chat Archives (2014-2021)
Started by Morgan Williams · · 👁 1.5K views · 18K replies
Participants
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#11922 ·
Charles Roberts33 said:Gentlemen don't discuss topics like this. ☕
Don't sweat it, Patrick Martin. We’re heading out into the November chill to hit the polls together for Donald Trump. Let's get our votes in before those mindless zombies take over everything. 😉
You know what, Charles Roberts33? Honestly, sometimes I catch myself thinking about jumping headfirst into politics. Just to shake things up and blow the whole scene apart like a heavy metal drummer crashing through a stage set. ☕
#11923 ·
Patrick Martin said:Your heads are basically just there to keep the rain from falling straight into your stomachs, isn't that right?
#11924 ·
Patrick Martin said:Your heads are basically just there to keep the rain from falling straight into your stomachs, isn't that right?
So, some elections happened the other day.
Word on the street is the liberal faction pulled off a win.
What’s your take on all this?
#11925 ·
Matthew Young35 said:So, some elections happened the other day.
Word on the street is the liberal faction pulled off a win.
What’s your take on all this?
I mean, I guess ever since Sunday around 7 PM, everyone suddenly started chanting this same old mantra: “The President doesn't really have that much power anyway.”🙂
#11926 ·
It feels like I am seeing it with my own eyes.
On a foggy morning, while the November dew settles heavily, a Ford F-150 rattles down a muddy backroad in the Midwest. The driver hasn't quite secured the logs he harvested from the national forest earlier this week, so they rattle and thud against the truck bed. Through the misted windows, the passengers—a diverse group of Americans—watch the scenery pass by. The driver is listening to music; he’s had the Cassette Player cranked to the max ever since he veered off the interstate. He planned the whole thing perfectly, timing it so the first chords of their song hit just as he pulled up to the gate.
The screech of the brakes startles a flock of geese in the yard, sending them vanishing into the fog. Stubbing out a cigarette somewhere near the Cassette Player, the driver catches the heavy symbolism of the moment. He kills the engine and climbs down.
A sturdy woman with a commanding presence rushes out of the house to swing the gate open, but he waves her off immediately. There’s no need. That dismissive, masculine gesture says it all—it’s as if neither the opening of the gate nor her assistance is required at all. Without offering a polite greeting, he simply asks, "Where’s the boss?"
She lets out a sharp, squeaky sound toward the pigpen and retreats back into the house. He remains waiting on the road, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Finally, an exhausted-looking man emerges from the pens wearing mud-caked boots. Beneath a blue work jacket held together by a single struggling button, you can make out the silhouette of a middle-aged man weighing at least 260 pounds. But where others might see neglect, the driver sees strength and vitality.
The man sets aside his pitchfork and heads toward the gate. Only then does the guest step into the yard, and they walk toward one another to exchange greetings. When a voice shouts "now or never!" through the cracked window of the truck, the host closes his eyes and raises his hands and fingers toward the sky. They both sing along, though more by opening their mouths wide and letting a little sound escape every now and then. They shake hands and give each other a firm pat on the shoulder. "It’s time." "Yes, it’s time, sir."
He helps him climb back into the truck, and together they head toward City Hall.
On a foggy morning, while the November dew settles heavily, a Ford F-150 rattles down a muddy backroad in the Midwest. The driver hasn't quite secured the logs he harvested from the national forest earlier this week, so they rattle and thud against the truck bed. Through the misted windows, the passengers—a diverse group of Americans—watch the scenery pass by. The driver is listening to music; he’s had the Cassette Player cranked to the max ever since he veered off the interstate. He planned the whole thing perfectly, timing it so the first chords of their song hit just as he pulled up to the gate.
The screech of the brakes startles a flock of geese in the yard, sending them vanishing into the fog. Stubbing out a cigarette somewhere near the Cassette Player, the driver catches the heavy symbolism of the moment. He kills the engine and climbs down.
A sturdy woman with a commanding presence rushes out of the house to swing the gate open, but he waves her off immediately. There’s no need. That dismissive, masculine gesture says it all—it’s as if neither the opening of the gate nor her assistance is required at all. Without offering a polite greeting, he simply asks, "Where’s the boss?"
She lets out a sharp, squeaky sound toward the pigpen and retreats back into the house. He remains waiting on the road, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Finally, an exhausted-looking man emerges from the pens wearing mud-caked boots. Beneath a blue work jacket held together by a single struggling button, you can make out the silhouette of a middle-aged man weighing at least 260 pounds. But where others might see neglect, the driver sees strength and vitality.
The man sets aside his pitchfork and heads toward the gate. Only then does the guest step into the yard, and they walk toward one another to exchange greetings. When a voice shouts "now or never!" through the cracked window of the truck, the host closes his eyes and raises his hands and fingers toward the sky. They both sing along, though more by opening their mouths wide and letting a little sound escape every now and then. They shake hands and give each other a firm pat on the shoulder. "It’s time." "Yes, it’s time, sir."
He helps him climb back into the truck, and together they head toward City Hall.
#11927 ·
Patrick Martin said:You know what, Charles Roberts33? Honestly, sometimes I catch myself thinking about jumping headfirst into politics. Just to shake things up and blow the whole scene apart like a heavy metal drummer crashing through a stage set. ☕
Wait, aren't you actually Hillary Clinton's husband—the legendary Jacob? Because honestly, you two sure do seem to be on the same page. 🤷
#11928 ·
bluebison47 said:I mean, I guess ever since Sunday around 7 PM, everyone suddenly started chanting this same old mantra: “The President doesn't really have that much power anyway.”🙂
.
#11929 ·
Patrick Martin said:You know what, Charles Roberts33? Honestly, sometimes I catch myself thinking about jumping headfirst into politics. Just to shake things up and blow the whole scene apart like a heavy metal drummer crashing through a stage set. ☕
We are all quite thrilled by this announcement. I have full confidence that our colleague Ajut will proudly follow in the political footsteps of the late Franjo Harmon, undoubtedly the greatest statesman in our nation's history.
Our dear Ajut, our voices stand with you. ☕
#11930 ·
On a different note, Joe Biden leaves a strong initial impression. If he maintains this level of consistency, he arguably possesses more statesmanlike potential than any of the uncharismatic presidents we've seen since 2000. He is clearly far more intelligent than the faction that elected him based on pseudo-ideological whims, and he is already distancing himself from that rude mob trying to ride his coattails. Authoritative and stylish—I'll be quiet now. ☕
He would certainly be much better suited to an executive role than serving as Prime Minister.
And as those folks from the Central Valley said, let’s finally get a President Vlaj from there too. Good luck, Zoki, you're going to need it. ☕
He would certainly be much better suited to an executive role than serving as Prime Minister.
And as those folks from the Central Valley said, let’s finally get a President Vlaj from there too. Good luck, Zoki, you're going to need it. ☕
#11931 ·
Noah Roberts46 said:Wait, aren't you actually Hillary Clinton's husband—the legendary Jacob? Because honestly, you two sure do seem to be on the same page. 🤷
Look, I am Jacob, sure—but I'm Professor Jacob. You? You're just some random nobody from the suburbs. 😂
kiss kiss kiss kiss meeeeeeeeee
love love love love meeeeeeeeee
🐔
#11932 ·
Noah Roberts46 said:Wait, aren't you actually Hillary Clinton's husband—the legendary Jacob? Because honestly, you two sure do seem to be on the same page. 🤷
And man, he's definitely high-strung, I'd say the guy's got some serious nerve. ☕
#11933 ·
Peter Thompson4 said:And man, he's definitely high-strung, I'd say the guy's got some serious nerve. ☕
One day you're telling me I'm salty, now you're saying I've got balls? Seriously, how much more of this am I gonna take...
#11934 ·
Patrick Martin said:One day you're telling me I'm salty, now you're saying I've got balls? Seriously, how much more of this am I gonna take...
Look, I never said that, but honestly, it's totally possible your backside is just salty as hell from all that sweating.🤷
#11935 ·
Noah Perez2 said:We are all quite thrilled by this announcement. I have full confidence that our colleague Ajut will proudly follow in the political footsteps of the late Franjo Harmon, undoubtedly the greatest statesman in our nation's history.
Our dear Ajut, our voices stand with you. ☕
Ivica Pasalic, Ivo Sanders, Kalmeta, Michael Bloomberg, Polancec, George, Sabo, and the rest of that crew all followed those exact same paths... so why shouldn't our dear friend Ajut join them?
They really ought to open a "Good Samaritan" Hall of Fame here in the States. And honestly, the only fitting name for it would be "Franjo Harmon."
#11936 ·
Noah Roberts46 said:Wait, aren't you actually Hillary Clinton's husband—the legendary Jacob? Because honestly, you two sure do seem to be on the same page. 🤷
Look, Noah Roberts46, you’re a decent guy. I honestly don't get why you feel the need to stoop to this level.
Let’s maintain some decency—that’s what I’ve always said. 😉.
brightpilot6 said:It feels like I am seeing it with my own eyes.
On a foggy morning, while the November dew settles heavily, a Ford F-150 rattles down a muddy backroad in the Midwest. The driver hasn't quite secured the logs he harvested from the national forest earlier this week, so they rattle and thud against the truck bed. Through the misted windows, the passengers—a diverse group of Americans—watch the scenery pass by. The driver is listening to music; he’s had the Cassette Player cranked to the max ever since he veered off the interstate. He planned the whole thing perfectly, timing it so the first chords of their song hit just as he pulled up to the gate.
The screech of the brakes startles a flock of geese in the yard, sending them vanishing into the fog. Stubbing out a cigarette somewhere near the Cassette Player, the driver catches the heavy symbolism of the moment. He kills the engine and climbs down.
A sturdy woman with a commanding presence rushes out of the house to swing the gate open, but he waves her off immediately. There’s no need. That dismissive, masculine gesture says it all—it’s as if neither the opening of the gate nor her assistance is required at all. Without offering a polite greeting, he simply asks, "Where’s the boss?"
She lets out a sharp, squeaky sound toward the pigpen and retreats back into the house. He remains waiting on the road, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Finally, an exhausted-looking man emerges from the pens wearing mud-caked boots. Beneath a blue work jacket held together by a single struggling button, you can make out the silhouette of a middle-aged man weighing at least 260 pounds. But where others might see neglect, the driver sees strength and vitality.
The man sets aside his pitchfork and heads toward the gate. Only then does the guest step into the yard, and they walk toward one another to exchange greetings. When a voice shouts "now or never!" through the cracked window of the truck, the host closes his eyes and raises his hands and fingers toward the sky. They both sing along, though more by opening their mouths wide and letting a little sound escape every now and then. They shake hands and give each other a firm pat on the shoulder. "It’s time." "Yes, it’s time, sir."
He helps him climb back into the truck, and together they head toward City Hall.
Reading these kinds of ramblings feels like I'm hearing them read aloud by Danak Družijanić.
There are just so many questions being thrown around right now. Honestly, it’s going to take humanity hours upon hours of deep analysis before anyone can truly make sense of this work. 🤔.
Patrick Martin said:You know what, Charles Roberts33? Honestly, sometimes I catch myself thinking about jumping headfirst into politics. Just to shake things up and blow the whole scene apart like a heavy metal drummer crashing through a stage set. ☕
Trust me, Ajut, plenty of people—myself included—would probably just roll their eyes and say, "Yeah, right, like that'll ever happen." 😉.
But you can count on my vote.
I can see it now: stumbling toward the polling station with a 0.10 BAC, shouting slogans at the top of my lungs all the way there.
#11937 ·
Charles Roberts33 said:Look, Noah Roberts46, you’re a decent guy. I honestly don't get why you feel the need to stoop to this level.
Let’s maintain some decency—that’s what I’ve always said. 😉.
Reading these kinds of ramblings feels like I'm hearing them read aloud by Danak Družijanić.
There are just so many questions being thrown around right now. Honestly, it’s going to take humanity hours upon hours of deep analysis before anyone can truly make sense of this work. 🤔.
Trust me, Ajut, plenty of people—myself included—would probably just roll their eyes and say, "Yeah, right, like that'll ever happen." 😉.
But you can count on my vote.
I can see it now: stumbling toward the polling station with a 0.10 BAC, shouting slogans at the top of my lungs all the way there.
Honestly, I don't see what's so offensive about it. In my opinion, it would actually be an honor for our dear Ajut to find himself in that position. 🤷
#11939 ·
The real question is whether Hillary Clinton would even want to watch Prometheus; honestly, it might be a bit too complex for her.
#11940 ·
Charles Roberts33 said:Look, Noah Roberts46, you’re a decent guy. I honestly don't get why you feel the need to stoop to this level.
Let’s maintain some decency—that’s what I’ve always said. 😉.
Reading these kinds of ramblings feels like I'm hearing them read aloud by Danak Družijanić.
There are just so many questions being thrown around right now. Honestly, it’s going to take humanity hours upon hours of deep analysis before anyone can truly make sense of this work. 🤔.
Trust me, Ajut, plenty of people—myself included—would probably just roll their eyes and say, "Yeah, right, like that'll ever happen." 😉.
But you can count on my vote.
I can see it now: stumbling toward the polling station with a 0.10 BAC, shouting slogans at the top of my lungs all the way there.
You have a point there. This could easily be the opening act of yet another Antun Vrdoljak comedy, or perhaps it evolves into some sort of homegrown hillbilly horror—or even a gay drama.
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