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Jimmy Cinnabon

Skinny Cass is a mistake

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18 minutes ago, Jimmy Cinnabon said:

Why did he bother losing all that weight?  If he had kept his body from last year he doesn't get pinned tonight by Jack Garbanzo Bean.

Greg understood that this situation would make Michael terribly uncomfortable. Michael simply had no idea what was about to come and even though Greg could prevent it from happening, he opted to let it happen. It was quite ironic, really. It was something Greg had said he would never wish upon anyone a million times, yet here he was knowingly letting it happen to one of his best friends. He rationalized that it would ultimately make Michael a better person and that no matter how uncomfortable, everyone should experience racism at least once in their lifetime.

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6 minutes ago, TripNSweep said:

Greg understood that this situation would make Michael terribly uncomfortable. Michael simply had no idea what was about to come and even though Greg could prevent it from happening, he opted to let it happen. It was quite ironic, really. It was something Greg had said he would never wish upon anyone a million times, yet here he was knowingly letting it happen to one of his best friends. He rationalized that it would ultimately make Michael a better person and that no matter how uncomfortable, everyone should experience racism at least once in their lifetime.

Couldn't have said it better myself.  Thanks.

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11 hours ago, TBar1977 said:

I thought you had him mauling Greg Kerkvliet like 8 hours ago? Lol. 

Please, stop replying to him or her.  All this person wants is reactions, they don't actually believe what they say.  If regular members would stop taking the bait they would go away, really starting to enjoy the approach by @TripNSweep

Edited by Gantry

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Son we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it, you? You Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility that you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the Marines. You have the luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know, that Santiago’s death while tragic, probably saved lives; and my existence while grotesque, and incomprehensible, to you, saves lives. You don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall! We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something, you use them as a punchline. I have neither the time, nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and than questions the manner in which I provide them! I’d rather you just said ‘thank you’, and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn, what you think you are entitled to!

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21 minutes ago, AHamilton said:

Son we live in a world that has walls, and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns. Whose gonna do it, you? You Lieutenant Weinberg? I have a greater responsibility that you can possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago and you curse the Marines. You have the luxury. You have the luxury of not knowing what I know, that Santiago’s death while tragic, probably saved lives; and my existence while grotesque, and incomprehensible, to you, saves lives. You don’t want the truth because deep down in places you don’t talk about at parties, you want me on that wall, you need me on that wall! We use words like honor, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something, you use them as a punchline. I have neither the time, nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the very freedom that I provide, and than questions the manner in which I provide them! I’d rather you just said ‘thank you’, and went on your way. Otherwise I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn, what you think you are entitled to!

but don't throw your shot ;)

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Love isn't always a ray of sunshine. That's what the older girls kept telling her when she said she had found the perfect man. She had thought this was simply bitter talk on their part since they had been unable to find true love like hers. But now she had to face the fact that they may have been right. Love may not always be a ray of sunshine. That is unless they were referring to how the sun can burn.

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Lennie turned his head and looked off across the pool and up the darkening
slopes of the Gabilans. “We gonna get a little place,” George began. He reached
in his side pocket and brought out Carlson’s Luger; he snapped off the safety,
and the hand and gun lay on the ground behind Lennie’s back. He looked at the
back of Lennie’s head, at the place where the spine and skull were joined.
A man’s voice called from up the river, and another man answered.
“Go on,” said Lennie.
George raised the gun and his hand shook, and he dropped his hand to the
ground again.
“Go on,” said Lennie. “How’s it gonna be. We gonna get a little place.”
“We’ll have a cow,” said George. “An’ we’ll have maybe a pig an’ chickens .
. . . an’ down the flat we’ll have a . . . . little piece alfalfa—”
“For the rabbits,” Lennie shouted.
“For the rabbits,” George repeated.
“And I get to tend the rabbits.”
“An’ you get to tend the rabbits.”
Lennie giggled with happiness. “An’ live on the fatta the lan’.”
“Yes.”
Lennie turned his head.
“No, Lennie. Look down there acrost the river, like you can almost see the
place.”
Lennie obeyed him. George looked down at the gun.
There were crashing footsteps in the brush now. George turned and looked
toward them.
“Go on, George. When we gonna do it?”
“Gonna do it soon.”
“Me an’ you.”
“You . . . . an’ me. Ever’body gonna be nice to you. Ain’t gonna be no more
trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from ‘em.”
Lennie said, “I thought you was mad at me, George.”
“No,” said George. “No, Lennie. I ain’t mad. I never been mad, an’ I ain’t
now. That’s a thing I want ya to know.”
The voices came close now. George raised the gun and listened to the voices.
Lennie begged, “Le’s do it now. Le’s get that place now.”
“Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta.”
And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it
close to the back of Lennie’s head. The hand shook violently, but his face set
and his hand steadied. He pulled the trigger. The crash of the shot rolled up the
hills and rolled down again. Lennie jarred, and then settled slowly forward to
the sand, and he lay without quivering.
George shivered and looked at the gun, and then he threw it from him, back
up on the bank, near the pile of old ashes.
The brush seemed filled with cries and with the sound of running feet. Slim’s
voice shouted. “George. Where you at, George?”
But George sat stiffly on the bank and looked at his right hand that had
thrown the gun away. The group burst into the clearing, and Curley was ahead.
He saw Lennie lying on the sand. “Got him, by God.” He went over and looked
down at Lennie, and then he looked back at George. “Right in the back of the
head,” he said softly.
Slim came directly to George and sat down beside him, sat very close to him.
“Never you mind,” said Slim. “A guy got to sometimes.”
But Carlson was standing over George. “How’d you do it?” he asked.
“I just done it,” George said tiredly.
“Did he have my gun?”
“Yeah. He had your gun.”
“An’ you got it away from him and you took it an’ you killed him?”
“Yeah. Tha’s how.” George’s voice was almost a whisper. He looked
steadily at his right hand that had held the gun.
Slim twitched George’s elbow. “Come on, George. Me an’ you’ll go in an’
get a drink.”
George let himself be helped to his feet. “Yeah, a drink.”
Slim said, “You hadda, George. I swear you hadda. Come on with me.” He
led George into the entrance of the trail and up toward the highway.
Curley and Carlson looked after them. And Carlson said, “Now what the hell
ya suppose is eatin’ them two guys?

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On 11/20/2021 at 8:30 AM, Gantry said:

Please, stop replying to him or her.  All this person wants is reactions, they don't actually believe what they say.  If regular members would stop taking the bait they would go away, really starting to enjoy the approach by @TripNSweep

Ya know...so the guy welched on a bet. Already his name is mud.

Can we all just let it go? Maybe he's like 14, or drunk, fat and stupid?

Can't hold an adolescent to a legal contract in the USA, anyway.

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On 11/21/2021 at 4:19 PM, AHamilton said:

Lennie turned his head and looked off across the pool and up the darkening
slopes of the Gabilans. “We gonna get a little place,” George began. He reached
in his side pocket and brought out Carlson’s Luger; he snapped off the safety,
and the hand and gun lay on the ground behind Lennie’s back. He looked at the
back of Lennie’s head, at the place where the spine and skull were joined.
A man’s voice called from up the river, and another man answered.
“Go on,” said Lennie.
George raised the gun and his hand shook, and he dropped his hand to the
ground again.
“Go on,” said Lennie. “How’s it gonna be. We gonna get a little place.”
“We’ll have a cow,” said George. “An’ we’ll have maybe a pig an’ chickens .
. . . an’ down the flat we’ll have a . . . . little piece alfalfa—”
“For the rabbits,” Lennie shouted.
“For the rabbits,” George repeated.
“And I get to tend the rabbits.”
“An’ you get to tend the rabbits.”
Lennie giggled with happiness. “An’ live on the fatta the lan’.”
“Yes.”
Lennie turned his head.
“No, Lennie. Look down there acrost the river, like you can almost see the
place.”
Lennie obeyed him. George looked down at the gun.
There were crashing footsteps in the brush now. George turned and looked
toward them.
“Go on, George. When we gonna do it?”
“Gonna do it soon.”
“Me an’ you.”
“You . . . . an’ me. Ever’body gonna be nice to you. Ain’t gonna be no more
trouble. Nobody gonna hurt nobody nor steal from ‘em.”
Lennie said, “I thought you was mad at me, George.”
“No,” said George. “No, Lennie. I ain’t mad. I never been mad, an’ I ain’t
now. That’s a thing I want ya to know.”
The voices came close now. George raised the gun and listened to the voices.
Lennie begged, “Le’s do it now. Le’s get that place now.”
“Sure, right now. I gotta. We gotta.”
And George raised the gun and steadied it, and he brought the muzzle of it
close to the back of Lennie’s head. The hand shook violently, but his face set
and his hand steadied. He pulled the trigger. The crash of the shot rolled up the
hills and rolled down again. Lennie jarred, and then settled slowly forward to
the sand, and he lay without quivering.
George shivered and looked at the gun, and then he threw it from him, back
up on the bank, near the pile of old ashes.
The brush seemed filled with cries and with the sound of running feet. Slim’s
voice shouted. “George. Where you at, George?”
But George sat stiffly on the bank and looked at his right hand that had
thrown the gun away. The group burst into the clearing, and Curley was ahead.
He saw Lennie lying on the sand. “Got him, by God.” He went over and looked
down at Lennie, and then he looked back at George. “Right in the back of the
head,” he said softly.
Slim came directly to George and sat down beside him, sat very close to him.
“Never you mind,” said Slim. “A guy got to sometimes.”
But Carlson was standing over George. “How’d you do it?” he asked.
“I just done it,” George said tiredly.
“Did he have my gun?”
“Yeah. He had your gun.”
“An’ you got it away from him and you took it an’ you killed him?”
“Yeah. Tha’s how.” George’s voice was almost a whisper. He looked
steadily at his right hand that had held the gun.
Slim twitched George’s elbow. “Come on, George. Me an’ you’ll go in an’
get a drink.”
George let himself be helped to his feet. “Yeah, a drink.”
Slim said, “You hadda, George. I swear you hadda. Come on with me.” He
led George into the entrance of the trail and up toward the highway.
Curley and Carlson looked after them. And Carlson said, “Now what the hell
ya suppose is eatin’ them two guys?

OMAM was a mindf*ck in middle school and even more as an adult. It really makes you yearn for better social support programs because Lenny was just a child that needed so much support that wasn't available at the time of writing, and still lacks severely today.

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