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Kevin Curtis's Stats (1 Viewer)
- Thread starter tnarg23
- Start date
duaneok66
Footballguy
13 times . . .
Chuck Cecil
Footballguy
I was going to post them but I forgot why I was here by the time I got past you Sig line..... 
joffer
Footballguy
could you add War and Peace to your sig? TIA
Banger
Footballguy
I think it ws 13 today and 11 last week.
Banger
Footballguy
dude check the play by play on nfl.com.
Did you commish make your sig?
McBokonon
Footballguy
I think if you put your sig into the Bible Code, you'll find your answer.
bostonfred
Footballguy
Field Goals 0-19 Yards (3)
Field Goals 20-29 Yards (3)
Field Goals 30-39 Yards (3)
Point After Attempt Made (1)
If I were you, I'd wait to draft a kicker.
Field Goals 20-29 Yards (3)
Field Goals 30-39 Yards (3)
Point After Attempt Made (1)
If I were you, I'd wait to draft a kicker.
Neil Beaufort Zod
Footballguy
I don't care if this is a thread hijack. Worst sig ever. I can't imagine why you think this is information anyone needs or wants to know. I mean, have just a modicum of respect for your fellow board members. Once you get past three lines, it's overboard.
Sigs are getting way out of hand, and this one is singularly obnoxious. Sorry for the whine.
Sigs are getting way out of hand, and this one is singularly obnoxious. Sorry for the whine.
Tanner9919
Footballguy
it was the best of times, it was the worst of times...might want to throw the Gettysburg Address in there, too..
RedRaiders
Mr. +EV
Did your commish make you put it in your signature?
comfortably numb
Footballguy
![[icon]](/data/avatars/m/5/5167.jpg?1660313464){kind=avatar}
[icon]
Insoxicated
WELL, PRINCE, Genoa and Lucca are now no more than private estates of the Bonaparte family. No, I warn you, that if you do not tell me we are at war, if you again allow yourself to palliate all the infamies and atrocities of this Antichrist (upon my word, I believe he is), I don’t know you in future, you are no longer my friend, no longer my faithful slave, as you say. There, how do you do, how do you do? I see I’m scaring you, sit down and talk to me.”
These words were uttered in July 1805 by Anna Pavlovna Scherer, a distinguished lady of the court, and confidential maid-of-honour to the Empress Marya Fyodorovna. It was her greeting to Prince Vassily, a man high in rank and office, who was the first to arrive at her soirée. Anna Pavlovna had been coughing for the last few days; she had an attack of la grippe, as she said—grippe was then a new word only used by a few people. In the notes she had sent round in the morning by a footman in red livery, she had written to all indiscriminately:
“If you have nothing better to do, count (or prince), and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too alarming to you, I shall be charmed to see you at my house between 7 and 10. Annette Scherer.”
“Heavens! what a violent outburst!” the prince responded, not in the least disconcerted at such a reception. He was wearing an embroidered court uniform, stockings and slippers, and had stars on his breast, and a bright smile on his flat face.
He spoke in that elaborately choice French, in which our forefathers not only spoke but thought, and with those slow, patronising intonations peculiar to a man of importance who has grown old in court society. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting her with a view of his perfumed, shining bald head, and complacently settled himself on the sofa.
“First of all, tell me how you are, dear friend. Relieve a friend’s anxiety,” he said, with no change of his voice and tone, in which indifference, and even irony, was perceptible through the veil of courtesy and sympathy.
“How can one be well when one is in moral suffering? How can one help being worried in these times, if one has any feeling?” said Anna Pavlovna. “You’ll spend the whole evening with me, I hope?”
“And the fête at the English ambassador’s? To-day is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,” said the prince. “My daughter is coming to fetch me and take me there.”
“I thought to-day’s fête had been put off. I confess that all these festivities and fireworks are beginning to pall.”
“If they had known that it was your wish, the fête would have been put off,” said the prince, from habit, like a wound-up clock, saying things he did not even wish to be believed.
“Don’t tease me. Well, what has been decided in regard to the Novosiltsov dispatch? You know everything.”
“What is there to tell?” said the prince in a tired, listless tone. “What has been decided? It has been decided that Bonaparte has burnt his ships, and I think that we are about to burn ours.”
Prince Vassily always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating his part in an old play. Anna Pavlovna Scherer, in spite of her forty years, was on the contrary brimming over with excitement and impulsiveness. To be enthusiastic had become her pose in society, and at times even when she had, indeed, no inclination to be so, she was enthusiastic so as not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The affected smile which played continually about Anna Pavlovna’s face, out of keeping as it was with her faded looks, expressed a spoilt child’s continual consciousness of a charming failing of which she had neither the wish nor the power to correct herself, which, indeed, she saw no need to correct.
These words were uttered in July 1805 by Anna Pavlovna Scherer, a distinguished lady of the court, and confidential maid-of-honour to the Empress Marya Fyodorovna. It was her greeting to Prince Vassily, a man high in rank and office, who was the first to arrive at her soirée. Anna Pavlovna had been coughing for the last few days; she had an attack of la grippe, as she said—grippe was then a new word only used by a few people. In the notes she had sent round in the morning by a footman in red livery, she had written to all indiscriminately:
“If you have nothing better to do, count (or prince), and if the prospect of spending an evening with a poor invalid is not too alarming to you, I shall be charmed to see you at my house between 7 and 10. Annette Scherer.”
“Heavens! what a violent outburst!” the prince responded, not in the least disconcerted at such a reception. He was wearing an embroidered court uniform, stockings and slippers, and had stars on his breast, and a bright smile on his flat face.
He spoke in that elaborately choice French, in which our forefathers not only spoke but thought, and with those slow, patronising intonations peculiar to a man of importance who has grown old in court society. He went up to Anna Pavlovna, kissed her hand, presenting her with a view of his perfumed, shining bald head, and complacently settled himself on the sofa.
“First of all, tell me how you are, dear friend. Relieve a friend’s anxiety,” he said, with no change of his voice and tone, in which indifference, and even irony, was perceptible through the veil of courtesy and sympathy.
“How can one be well when one is in moral suffering? How can one help being worried in these times, if one has any feeling?” said Anna Pavlovna. “You’ll spend the whole evening with me, I hope?”
“And the fête at the English ambassador’s? To-day is Wednesday. I must put in an appearance there,” said the prince. “My daughter is coming to fetch me and take me there.”
“I thought to-day’s fête had been put off. I confess that all these festivities and fireworks are beginning to pall.”
“If they had known that it was your wish, the fête would have been put off,” said the prince, from habit, like a wound-up clock, saying things he did not even wish to be believed.
“Don’t tease me. Well, what has been decided in regard to the Novosiltsov dispatch? You know everything.”
“What is there to tell?” said the prince in a tired, listless tone. “What has been decided? It has been decided that Bonaparte has burnt his ships, and I think that we are about to burn ours.”
Prince Vassily always spoke languidly, like an actor repeating his part in an old play. Anna Pavlovna Scherer, in spite of her forty years, was on the contrary brimming over with excitement and impulsiveness. To be enthusiastic had become her pose in society, and at times even when she had, indeed, no inclination to be so, she was enthusiastic so as not to disappoint the expectations of those who knew her. The affected smile which played continually about Anna Pavlovna’s face, out of keeping as it was with her faded looks, expressed a spoilt child’s continual consciousness of a charming failing of which she had neither the wish nor the power to correct herself, which, indeed, she saw no need to correct.
KnowledgeReignsSupreme
Footballguy
KnowledgeReignsSupreme
Footballguy
This thread is in need of some recipes.
Resident A
Footballguy
Get that stupid sig off there & people may start to take you seriously.
I think I speak for most of us here when I say that nobody cares about your team or scoring system. People who add a whole page of junk w/ every post look like (& most likely are) dou_che bags.
I think I speak for most of us here when I say that nobody cares about your team or scoring system. People who add a whole page of junk w/ every post look like (& most likely are) dou_che bags.
Last edited by a moderator:
Sweet J
Footballguy
We broke up on March 3. It was a 3 hour phone call that was rather ridiculous, full of lies and contradictions and just downright dramatic filled with 4-5 different occasions of tears and sniffles. Oddly enough, they didn’t come from me. During that time, I didn’t shed one tear. I couldn’t because I had been through hell and back and then back again with this guy…my tears were all gone. After that phone call, I felt incredibly RELIEVED. A HUGE weight had been lifted off of my shoulders as I was finally done (or so I thought) with dealing with all the bull#### and deception.
Stupid me for taking him back earlier but I was trying to find the good in him despite many, many of my friends begging me not to. I’m waaaaaay too trusting and I was ignorant to fall for his story, just like it appears many of you are, too. However, he is known for his “great story telling” so go figure…
One of his many pieces of information he told me about himself that has always stayed with me was this: “I’m a good liar, I do it 24/7”. Was this a slip up telling me a key piece of information about himself? Possibly, but again, I try to find the good in everyone. Yeah, I know, I’m learning.
He refers to some of you as “friends” but he has told me countless of times how he “can’t stand these people”. Listening and getting constantly bugged over and over and over again of the life and trials of having “a basketball team” or getting the “daily annoying PMs of the little emoticon guy waving”. Sending me photos of one of the FBG women who doesn’t post much anymore and said, “Ok, just don't tell her I sent them. She may be half nuts, but I told her they looked personal and I wouldn’t tell anyone she sent them”. These guys are “caged animals for a reason, because they can’t get along with anyone else.” The list goes on and on.
Despite whatever he might have said to some of you, he couldn’t stand anyone here or at FBG except for Fuller. Way to go, Fuller!
Stupid me for taking him back earlier but I was trying to find the good in him despite many, many of my friends begging me not to. I’m waaaaaay too trusting and I was ignorant to fall for his story, just like it appears many of you are, too. However, he is known for his “great story telling” so go figure…
One of his many pieces of information he told me about himself that has always stayed with me was this: “I’m a good liar, I do it 24/7”. Was this a slip up telling me a key piece of information about himself? Possibly, but again, I try to find the good in everyone. Yeah, I know, I’m learning.
He refers to some of you as “friends” but he has told me countless of times how he “can’t stand these people”. Listening and getting constantly bugged over and over and over again of the life and trials of having “a basketball team” or getting the “daily annoying PMs of the little emoticon guy waving”. Sending me photos of one of the FBG women who doesn’t post much anymore and said, “Ok, just don't tell her I sent them. She may be half nuts, but I told her they looked personal and I wouldn’t tell anyone she sent them”. These guys are “caged animals for a reason, because they can’t get along with anyone else.” The list goes on and on.
Despite whatever he might have said to some of you, he couldn’t stand anyone here or at FBG except for Fuller. Way to go, Fuller!
Brides Maids
Footballguy
Just curious is that Chuck "late hit" Cecil you must be from Wisconsin. The name and from 920 (area code?) gives it away.I was going to post them but I forgot why I was here by the time I got past you Sig line.....
Kiddnets
Footballguy
Four score and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon this continent a new nation: conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war. . .testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated. . . can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war.
We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate. . .we cannot consecrate. . . we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . . that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . . and that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people. . . shall not perish from the earth.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war. . .testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated. . . can long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war.
We have come to dedicate a portion of that field as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate. . .we cannot consecrate. . . we cannot hallow this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember, what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.
It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. . .that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. . . that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain. . . that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom. . . and that government of the people. . .by the people. . .for the people. . . shall not perish from the earth.
shuke
Black Ice Skeptic
Did your commish make you put it in your signature?
Lombardi's Orphan Son
Footballguy
bump (i had to take this up from page 3)
roflmao
roflmao
fatness
Footballguy
Beaver With Sour Cream Recipe2 - 4 lbs. cut beaver
1/2 cup flour
1 tsp. salt
1/4 tsp. paprika
1/2 tsp. salt
1/2 cup water
1 cup sour cream
Oil to cover
1 onion
Clean beaver and soak overnight in salted water (1 tbsp. salt to 1 quart water). Drain, cut up, and roll in 1/2 cup flour seasoned with 1 tsp. salt and 1/4 tsp. paprika. Fry in fat until browned. Then cover the beaver with sliced onion. Sprinkle the onion slices with 1/2 tsp. salt. Add 1/2 cup water. Cover the skillet tightly. Simmer for 1 hour. Add 1 cup sour cream the last 15 minutes of cooking time. Serves 2 - 4 depending on the size of the animal.
Tau837
Footballguy
Now that is funny.
Tau837
Footballguy
duaneok66
Footballguy
agreed . . . in tears from laughing so hard . . .One of the best threads I've read in a while.
