Johnny_Tuff

What the hell is going on over on the right? Looks like the person with their back to the camera is either body-checking the other person, or delivering a fierce uppercut. Looks like the tall guy's doubling over from the impact. Is it like some kind of Mountie initiation thing, where they beat the shit out of you for two minutes, and then you're in? Like joining the Crips or whatever?

Misapplication of the "Gucci" moniker to craggy zone rather than fashionpants?

That giant flake looks like a boot!

Typically reserved for references to the scandalously expensive but ever-so-stylish adventuresportystylewear company, not the high craggy zone of Torres and Fitzeggerators.

I rain unstoppable strikes on your effeminately moussed dome, fool. Word is you're so soft, that half-assed excuse for a man Norris put the hurt on you with his limp roundhouse kicks. Pathetic, brah. Go back to the dojo and work on your ki-ai so you don't crumple every time someone thinks about hitting you.

Does cc.com have some kind of moderator-assisted thread suicide program? 'Cause this piece of sub-filler material would be a prime candidate for a dignified death.

Another Crossfit connection! "It doesn't have to be fun, to be fun."

Don't fret. All squid are enormous to the tinyfish.

Troll. Never trust anyone hailing from "Coloardo."

Ah, yes, the poop. One learns to deal with the clean-up and disposal of this unfortunate substance under a variety of conditions.

You seem to type pretty well with one hand, CBS.

We have defacto reproductive imperialism?! What the fuckers? Helpful babytime preparation hints: Buy 8 to 12 alarm clocks, and have a friend set them to go off at random intervals throughout the night. When an alarm goes off, leave it wailing, then pick up a ten-pound weight and cradle it for 15-60 minutes. During this time, go to the kithchen and heat up some water (continuing to hold the weight), then take a few minutes to pour it out (simulating a feeding). Now spill some sour yak milk down your shirt (simulating the inevitable outcome of every feeding). Go back to the bedroom and change your clothes twice (once to simulate having to change your baby's clothes--peeing on yourself during this process is optional, but may help you adjust to the realities of baby maintenance). Attempt to go back to sleep. Repeat this process or some variant thereof (it's like Crossfit--mix it up!) each time an alarm goes off. Continue this for about a month, after which time you may do away with half of the alarms. Don't forget to have fun! You probably think I'm exaggerating...

Yeah, right; try months. Probably blew your pulleys or something. Try a doctor, not the internet!

I like all of the above, as well as poor communication, lack of independence, whining, and the ever popular responsibility-dodge ("oh, could you get that diaper? I've got to, uh, fold my dirty laundry").

Someone with, um, a (questionable) sense of humor?

I've got the Shure E2c's also. I like the sound, and I scored them for $69 at discountheadphones.com (who'd have thunk it?). Lately, though, I've been having some problems with one side working sporadically, I think a connection somewhere is bad, because sometimes they work, sometimes not, and moving the cable seems to help sometimes. May need to see about that good customer service, though. And yeah, the fit is a little fussy when you first put them in, and forget getting good sound if you're eating; chewing seems to break the seal, fucking up the sound. Despite all the nitpicks, when they're doing what they do correctly, they sound dreamy. Sorta recommended.

If you have to ask ...

Doesn't he?

Fuckin' A, just spent my REI divvie on some dope new Pataguch knickers. I am gonna be sooo hot in those bad boys...sendin' tuff in style, baby, hoooo-weeeee!

Obviously Pope doesn't shop at your store!! Bolt Fund? Sounds like 50x better than that boring old Access Fund. Could you guys replace the anchors on my proj?

Sage advice for a struggling up-and-comer such as yourself. Go piss up a fixed line, Harry Palms.

"Terminator X," oh, yeah. Public Enemy would bitch-slap you six ways to Sunday, homie.

Oopsie. Just trying to help.

Weak attempt, please try again.

Shit, no mention yet of Martina's, at the south end of Madras, on the right as you head north, where 97 splits... Best enjoyed with raw tips and tuff-dirty, chalk-dusted attire. Mmmm...tres tacos de asada, por favor. Plus, you can buy cervezas from the cold case, and drink 'em at the table. Cheap and bomb, no doubt. Soon, Martina's...soon...