Q.Bovifs wrote:
Damn. BRick, T-Sam - very nice work! (adjusts bow tie).
Seriously, (starts to choke up) that was. . . really enter-tai-ning stuff! Really (tips glass to honor the talent in the room)
This was not a tournament, it was a gauntlet.
We took 4 in our boat, and our Captain, he of the Darkzone, steered us true across the finish line.
We encountered many perils, but we stuck together.
We took on numerous assaults, ambushes, mult airstrikes.
We GAVE Our own! Oh, boys was it a battle.
I remember when I first asked Darkside whether it would be okay to offer the shirts. . . and THEN have them shipped to his house! I mean, it was a moment - the HOUSE again! ME! Darkside! Talking about his HOUSE! AGAIN! 4 Years, this stigma has hung over our houses, and it took a special sprinkling of gold dust from our indispensable Man of God, Reverend Naslund Hovamus, III. Fantastical, miraculous work. Slappin' the bad guys with rulers like a Catholic League friar!
But, again, why are we here?
THE CAPTAIN.
From El Capitan, to El Presidente. We have seen him arrive.
When I had to step in as the First Pro Tempore President of this mighty league of men, I had my hands full. The Throne had just been abdicated, and, quickly forming a strong cabinet, we grabbed it. I tried to usher us through that murky hailstorm, and I believe that I did at least a passable job as a wartime President - even if only interim.
However, it is time to upgrade the office to a more permanent status. To bring in a man who can sail this ship the rest of the way. . . on to its highest form and era of excellence. This is The Man for the job (points directly at Darkside with gavel).
(Walks directly in front of Darkside - using seven metered strides - nods, and then, in an almost perfect geometric arc, circles behind Darkside and briskly snaps The Red Jacket from his own shoulders [making the fabric thunderclap like a whip] and places it on the back of the new President)
You now trade the slunk worn tweed of a residential post-pusher for the silken, complex weaving structure and unfathomable form-fit of the Presidential Red Jacket.
The honor. The aplomb. Deserved.
This man was born to lead. His attending physician at said birth commented on his penis bearing an exact replica to a conductor's baton - destined. . .
When he hosts his yearly party, he isn't letting YOU get a read on HIM - HE'S getting a read on YOU!
Yes, it is the truth, he is the most amazing and thoughtful Christmas Gift giver in like, ever!
(Flash to PANTHRO & DS XMAS PARTY, DEC. 2013: Starwars PJ's, Darks? How did you know I blew a farthole through my last pair?)
I thought he would never recover after losing his most valuable personal assistant, Immessedup17 (a moment, please [looks down for a pause]), but as soon ans the unemployment hearing was over, DS moved on and got things going all by himself!
This is the man who endured a scorching Avaya Systems Attack by the arch-irritant NSJ. But he TOLD US exactly why he was posting that job opening in That Thread. . . and, you know what, folks? We believed him.
And I'm glad we did.
The man has the wit, he has the wisdom. To all those snobby fucks who think he can't go head to head with any of this new hipster flavor-of-the-month style of posting, take a look: I'm slappin all Seacrests food stamps down on My Guy DS.
No,
OUR GUY, Darkside.
NO. OUR PRESIDENT.
PRESIDENT SAMUEL P. DARKSIDE.
I thought these were supposed to be funny or creative.
_________________
Curious Hair wrote:
I'm a big dumb shitlib baby
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