The OFFICIAL Unofficial Achewood Message Board
Achewood => Achewood => Topic started by: oball on January 27, 2006, 03:02:17 am
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Here. (http://achewood.com/index.php?date=01272006)
I like the news article at the end. Also, I wonder how much weight Ray benches?
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I can't wait to see why Ray doesn't go through with this.
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I like the 'Family Tradition' in panel 2. It's italicized because he's grunting it.
I think the topic title works, but so does 'I googled all kinds of stuff up on eBay.' I would pick 'family tradition' but I don't think you can italicize words in the subject line, can you?
Also, when the Stuffed Bear first disagreed with Ray, the thought that came to mind was: OMG! Pat's dad was the GOF victor in '73! This would lead to an excellent showdown.
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Other rejected topic titles: "I just beat the asses of three thousand men".
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Whatever Ray is benching is clearly more than I can. My evidence: he has plates on the bar.
I'd mock the soul patch except he could clearly kick my ass so I just won't mention it.
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Oh man, this is the best story arc ever.
There is so much to love in this strip, I know not where to begin.
I AM SORRY I MOCKED YOU FOR BEING LAZY FOR MISSING TWO DAYS OF STRIPS THIS WEEK ONSTAD
IT MUST'VE TAKEN THREE DAYS TO COME UP WITH THIS MUCH AWESOME*
between drinking and wife-beating, &c.
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The old-timey newspaper article wins. Come to think of it, Ray's dad does look disturbingly like Pat with a soul patch; I suspect it's the hat.
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Is that newspaper supposed to be from 1973 or 1873. Sheesh.
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Ray's dad does look disturbingly like Pat with a soul patch; I suspect it's the hat.
I suspect it's the glasses. In fact, I suspect we'll discover that it is actually the exact same pair of glasses handed down from one generation to the next.
~Paul
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I suspect it's the glasses. In fact, I suspect we'll discover that it is actually the exact same pair of glasses handed down from one generation to the next.
~Paul
Yes, but that implies that Ray and Pat are related.
Which is possible, actually. If Pat were actually Ray's irritating cousin or something that Ray was forced to hang around with, it would explain his continued involvement with the Dirtiest Dudes in Town.
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Is that newspaper supposed to be from 1973 or 1873. Sheesh.
Well it's not a real newspaper, just the results flier for the event. Presumably this was the cutting edge of desktop publishing in 1973
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Yes, but that implies that Ray and Pat are related.
Which is possible, actually. If Pat were actually Ray's irritating cousin or something that Ray was forced to hang around with, it would explain his continued involvement with the Dirtiest Dudes in Town.
Ok, I misread you. You wrote Pat, but my brain heard Ray. I think he looks exactly like Ray. A physically fit Ray. But he does bear a resemblance to Ray as well. Yep, they eventually turn out to be all related.
We've met Ray's Mother and seen a picture of his Dad all in one week. This story line keeps ascending. Where will it end?
~Paul
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We've met Ray's Mother and seen a picture of his Dad all in one week. This story line keeps ascending. Where will it end?
Cousin Zeek. Also, Nermal.
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Yeah, the Great Outdoor Fight is shaping up to be fan-fuck*ng-tastic. Much like "Snakes on a Plane," I am disappointed that I did not know of the Great Outdoor Fight sooner.
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The old-timey newspaper article wins. Come to think of it, Ray's dad does look disturbingly like Pat with a soul patch; I suspect it's the hat.
I thought Ray's dad looked like Ray, which made me suspect this was all some elaborate plot by Mrs. Smuckles. And Ray would find himself in a contest of Todd and other squirrels. Which he would easily beat because squirrels are stupid and the Math Part would stymie them. And Ray would be triumphant. And he would spend more time with his mom, which is what she wanted all along.
Sorry, I am too tired and got bad news on my cholesterol tests today. You may take all my Dr. Pepper cans because (sob) I am such badness.
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After the Great Outdoor Fight, Lyle is going to get a job at a Car Wash, Beef is going to be on an Airplane that suffers a horrible fate but is miraculously landed and everybody will be affected by 9.0 temblor that hits downtown Achewood.
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Sorry, I am too tired and got bad news on my cholesterol tests today. You may take all my Dr. Pepper cans because (sob) I am such badness.
I gave you one, because a tiny can of Dr Pepper is exactly what you need to cheer you up. Plus, it's cholesterol free and has no saturated fat!
I'll slip in a giraffe oil softgel.
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Someone should run a book on the fight. I would bet on Ray.
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Sorry, I am too tired and got bad news on my cholesterol tests today. You may take all my Dr. Pepper cans because (sob) I am such badness.
How old are you and how bad is bad?
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Jeezus folks, it's 4 in the am here and there's already two pages. I used to like this place when it was quiet and private, &c! </grouch>
Okay, so I like how Teodor comes up with the name of the 1973 winner completely off the top of his head. Also, despite Ray being able to lift all that, his dad was in much better shape than he is (ie No CHiPs Ponch). I hope this meme runs for a looong time.
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The Toronto Man Machine. Mmm. Did they ever have a rematch, I wonder?
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I, too, would like to learn more about Brad Sweden and the Toronto Man Machine, although I'm not sure if this can be done in a worksafe way.
New favorite details about this strip:
* The intense old-timeyness of the picture of Ray's dad despite the relatively recent date;
* The use of "the Acres" to refer to the territory on which the Great Outdoor Fight takes place, making it all sound a little more country-club than you would normally associate with this sort of occasion; and
* Ray's dad's insistence that he personally beat the asses of 3000 men, and the realization that this is entirely possible given that I have no idea of the format of the Great Outdoor Fight.
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Damn it, now I have that godawful Robbie Williams song, which I know was on the lock stock soundtrack.
[size=05pt]Yes, amazon.com, I WOULD like to know why this (http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0440145368/ref=pd_ys_pym_all_20/103-2287621-3135028?%5Fencoding=UTF8&v=glance&n=283155) and this (http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00000IXSE/qid=1138377791/sr=8-1/ref=pd_bbs_1/103-2287621-3135028?n=507846&s=music&v=glance) are suggested for me.[/size]
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the AGGGH PFFF is the best part of the strip for me.
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given that I have no idea of the format of the Great Outdoor Fight.
Doesn't this make it so much better? I hope we never know.
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Ray's dad's insistence that he personally beat the asses of 3000 men, and the realization that this is entirely possible given that I have no idea of the format of the Great Outdoor Fight.
Apparently it's not based on any system of groups and stages. Every contender has to fight each and every one of the 3000.
Now that's a man's, man's competition.
It's also funny that Rodney Leonard Stubbs is a much more sensible name then Ramses Luther Smuckles.
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The paper implies that it's a battle royal. Where all 3,000 start fighting each other all at once, every man for himself until one is left standing.
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Apparently it's not based on any system of groups and stages. Every contender has to fight each and every one of the 3000.
Now that's a man's, man's competition.
I beg to differ. The article says RLS "deftly avoided all allegiances, a risky tactic scarcely tried here on the Acres." So much like Survivor, you can band together with a group to try to get through the preliminaries, then duke it out amongst the group at the end.
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I beg to differ. The article says RLS "deftly avoided all allegiances, a risky tactic scarcely tried here on the Acres." So much like Survivor, you can band together with a group to try to get through the preliminaries, then duke it out amongst the group at the end.
Yes, but not before putting slow-acting diarrhea pills in the drinks of your alliegance group during the pre-last-fight-day dinner where you celebrate having made it to the third day.
ANYTHING TO WIN
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Yes, but not before putting slow-acting diarrhea pills in the drinks of your alliegance group during the pre-last-fight-day dinner where you celebrate having made it to the third day.
ANYTHING TO WIN
I'll bet there isn't anything of the sort... no breaks, no meals, just 72 hours of straight fighting, as many men falling to exhaustion as to the punches of other men.
THE GREAT OUTDOOR FIGHT AIN'T FOR SISSIES.
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When there is a limit to the number of people (3,000) how can there be a time limit (3 days)? What happens if there are too many people at the end of the three days? What if there is one incredible bad ass in the group (Chuck Norris?) and he kicks everyones' asses within two days? I guess I shouldn't worry about this stuff.
Anyone else notice that Ray's dad is wearing a medallion? Is it the same King Chochacho necklace? Like the sunglasses maybe this is a generational hand me down. Not that we know much about his dad, but do you think he's always in a good mood?
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When there is a limit to the number of people (3,000) how can there be a time limit (3 days)? What happens if there are too many people at the end of the three days? What if there is one incredible bad ass in the group (Chuck Norris?) and he kicks everyones' asses within two days?
Shhh. Don't break kayfabe.
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When there is a limit to the number of people (3,000) how can there be a time limit (3 days)? What happens if there are too many people at the end of the three days? What if there is one incredible bad ass in the group (Chuck Norris?) and he kicks everyones' asses within two days? I guess I shouldn't worry about this stuff.
Twelve hours into the third day, men with guns form a perimeter around the Acres and slowly begin to advance inward.
If everyone is downed early on, the Great Outdoor Fight continues until this point is reached. There is a chance that some of them will recover from their early ass-beating and come back from behind.
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There is a chance that some of them will recover from their early ass-beating and come back from behind.
That is subtly homoerotic. Am i weird for thinking that?
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That is subtly homoerotic. Am i weird gay for thinking that?
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
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Wait, how could Ray's dad have beaten 3,000 men? Shouldn't it have been 2,999? Unless, of course, the 3,000 is just an arbitrary number. At any rate, this arc seems to be shaping up quite nicely, let's see if Onstad can follow through.
Also, in the Feb. 2004 edition of Ray's Place, Ray mentioned that his sunglasses were handed down from his father.
"These particular frames belonged to my dad, Ramses Luther Smuckles (CFA Registered name: GC Tinkerbell’s "Careful He’s A Spaniard") and I’m proud to wear them. I didn’t know him well, but I like to think they fit me ‘cause they fit him."
(Hello, my name is nded and I forgot that I had an account here)
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* The use of "the Acres" to refer to the territory on which the Great Outdoor Fight takes place, making it all sound a little more country-club than you would normally associate with this sort of occasion
Upon reaching the Acres, contestants are informed that if they have neglected to wear a navy blue blazer, pink Polo, madras slacks, and boat shoes, they will be supplied with their own for the duration of the Fight.
Also, no minorities allowed.
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I like how Teodor comes up with the name of the 1973 winner completely off the top of his head.
Everyone knows the Man with Blood on his Hands.
Also 3 acres isn't really that large for 3000 people, wouldn't be nowhere to hide.
I like to think they put a big ass fence all around it and don't let anyone out for three days, for aforesaid reasons of unexpected come backs.
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3 acres is about the same as a 361 foot square. Or, just under 44 square feet per person in the fight.
A 361 foot square with 3000 men and cats fighting to the death/submission/exhaustion/broken will... for 3 straight days.
I'd buy that on pay per view.
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3 acres is about the same as a 361 foot square. Or, just under 44 square feet per person in the fight.
A 361 foot square with 3000 men and cats fighting to the death/submission/exhaustion/broken will... for 3 straight days.
I'd buy that on pay per view.
Let's just hope the guys responsible for Bumfights don't here about this...
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Shit, the introductions alone would take 2.9 days. "Introducing first, the challengers. Standing to my left, weighing in at 207 pounds, hailing from Chicago, Ill. Mikey "The Wrecker" Johnson. And to his left, weighing in at" and so on 2,999 more times. I'm bored just typing it.
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Shit, the introductions alone would take 2.9 days. "Introducing first, the challengers. Standing to my left, weighing in at 207 pounds, hailing from Chicago, Ill. Mikey "The Wrecker" Johnson. And to his left, weighing in at" and so on 2,999 more times. I'm bored just typing it.
They probably don't even bother with introductions until the last dozen men are left standing. The other 2,988 are not worth the attention. They are less than men.
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I think it's more like a big team game, they don't introduce everyone individually because if you're watching the great outdoor fight you know who everyone is already.
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because if you're watching the great outdoor fight you know who everyone is already.
You don't watch the Great Outdoor Fight. You either fight or you simply get your ass kicked.
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I think it's a safe assumption that I'm the only person who reads the thread title and silently sings, "The maaan with the blood on his haaaaandssss....behind the hatred there lies a somethingsomething DESIREEEE!"
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You don't watch the Great Outdoor Fight. You either fight or you simply get your ass kicked.
That must've come as a great shock to the person who bought the ticket pictured with the results bullentin. "What do you mean I have to..." followed by a punch to the head.
I'm glad this thing isn't real for the simple fact that it would just be something else to add to those Chuck Norris/Mr. T/Samoa Joe lists that have been floating around.
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I think it's a safe assumption that I'm the only person who reads the thread title and silently sings, "The maaan with the blood on his haaaaandssss....behind the hatred there lies a somethingsomething DESIREEEE!"
The somethingsomething part is actually very fitting:
Behind the hatred there lies a murderous desire...
...fooooor loooooove...
Hm, on the other hand, I don't think love has anything to do with it.
And you, sir, is the man with another tiny can on his hands.
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The Smiths = Cans?
Apparently, you've all decided to "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want."
Which is many cans.
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That must've come as a great shock to the person who bought the ticket pictured with the results bullentin. "What do you mean I have to..." followed by a punch to the head.
Sort of Fight-Club-esque. You can't just watch, and so on. You have to fight. Very testosterone-y.
Anyway, this reminds me of back-alley cat squalls, and suggests that these cat squalls are actually the Underground's version of organized boxing. I've definitely seen several cats (or several dogs, or squirrels, and so on) gang up on each other and basically beat the crap out of each other until one is left standing. I think the 3000 is actually just a publicity-type number which really means "however many cats show up to fight" (which could be 3000, or less, or more). This means that your average cat-fight is just practice for the Real Thing.
HOWEVER. How long do cats live? Not that long, right? I had two when I was little, and they didn't live past middle school. So how is it possible that Ray's Dad fought in '73? That's too many years ago. I hate to find a glitch in Onstad's perfect work, but ... I think I did. ::sob:: Somebody give me a rational explanation, quick.
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It's ok Foxy, it's going to be alright. No need to cry.
~Paul
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Very testosterone-y.
This is great stuff, by the way, especially with a little red sauce and garlic. Almost as good as risotto.
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This is great stuff, by the way, especially with a little red sauce and garlic. Almost as good as risotto.
I know it's kind of chintzy, but I personally prefer Rice-a-testosterone-y. It's the San Clemente Treat!
what did that mean. my god it is late.
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The Smiths = Cans?
Apparently, you've all decided to "Please, Please, Please Let Me Get What I Want."
Which is many cans.
The Smiths = Cans? Sure, at least for me.
Even better than The Smiths, I like Making Fun At The Smiths.
But just because I own the humble amount of 8 tiny cans, it doesn't mean that by acknowledging a post's funniness I'm simply can-whoring.
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Please people, let's stop comparing cans before wombat comes in here an starts showing off her tiny cans.
All rubbing our faces in it.
All flashing tiny cans around.
All girls gone wild style.
Wait... that's not what I meant, dammit!
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Wait... that's not what I meant, dammit!
Mmhmm. Yeah.
You Sick Fuck.
Also, I believe I have an explanation for the "Ray's Dad would be much older than a cat could possibly be" age quandary: It's a comic strip. Once you anthropomorphize the cat, you might as well make his lifespan human-esque also.
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Hey! Whose cans you callin' tiny?
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I should really stop listening to the rumors that #####****** tells me.
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Please people, let's stop comparing cans before wombat comes in here an starts showing off her tiny cans.
Some cans are bigger than others...
Dammit Morrissey, get outta my head already.
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This is great stuff, by the way, especially with a little red sauce and garlic. Almost as good as risotto.
It's funny, because I really wanted to make an Italian-pasta reference when I typed that, but I wasn't sure it would make sense. Clearly, I have underestimated my ability to refer to Italian dishes. And now I want pasta.
Also, I believe I have an explanation for the "Ray's Dad would be much older than a cat could possibly be" age quandary: It's a comic strip. Once you anthropomorphize the cat, you might as well make his lifespan human-esque also.
Yeah, you're probably right. I guess Onstad thinks of his characters as human first, animal second. As though their appearing to be animals is a mild inconvenience for a creature which is human in all other respects.
Am I trying to deviate the topic from tiny can innuendo? Yes. Yes, I am. I guess sexual innuendo has a way of taking hold of a conversation (and throttling it).
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Hey, you can't just come around here trying to throttle our sexual innuendo! That's what this board is founded on, the very life-blood that flows through all our veins!
When you really want to derail a topic, you must call upon Quentin Quadrangle to provide a non-germane, potentially shocking, extremely esoteric INTERWEB LINK OF THE DAY.
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you must call upon Quentin Quadrangle to provide a non-germane, potentially shocking, extremely esoteric INTERWEB LINK OF THE DAY.
No you must not.
~Paul
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Am I trying to deviate the topic from tiny can innuendo? Yes. Yes, I am. I guess sexual innuendo has a way of taking hold of a conversation (and throttling it).
I'm sorry, you were mentioning something about your tiny cans?
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Some cans are bigger than others...
Hmmm, I wonder if this is what the song is about originally.
Dammit Morrissey, get outta my head already.
He's been safely nestled in mine for years, and I'm enjoying every minute of it.
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Some girls' mothers are bigger than other girls'.... mothers.
Yeah, I think it's safe to assume he's talking about tits.
Also, I'm sure I've said this before, but I enjoy Morrissey, and especially the Smiths, unironically. The Smiths are my second favourite band of all time.
However, I do not object to others mocking them, because while I don't agree, I understand.
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So, about The Man With The Blood On His Hands...
I introduced my roommate to Achewood no too long ago, and he believes The Great Outdoor Fight to be one of the greatest ideas he's ever heard.
Of course, he also likes to fight. (When he's drunk)
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I had a roommate like that once.
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Who is Number One?
You are Number Six.
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You are Number Six.
I am not a number! I am a human being!!
Also, throwing around numbers is harsh for a guy named "Null."
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No you must not.
~Paul
It's true, that does derail the topic.
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The music discussion has been split appropriately. A&E, people.
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I guess sexual innuendo has a way of taking hold of a conversation (and throttling it).
It has a firm and steady grip.
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Also, I'm sure I've said this before, but I enjoy Morrissey, and especially the Smiths, unironically. The Smiths are my second favourite band of all time.
However, I do not object to others mocking them, because while I don't agree, I understand.
I know I didn't miss this, but I don't think I mentioned how rad(der) this makes you in my book. However, I also understand. But even though I do, it always hurts a little when someone mentions how much s/he hates Morrissey, because I, well, I just love him so much.
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I know I didn't miss this, but I don't think I mentioned how rad(der) this makes you in my book. However, I also understand. But even though I do, it always hurts a little when someone mentions how much s/he hates Morrissey, because I, well, I just love him so much.
My Morrissey is named McCartney. I just love (almost) everything he's done. fuck*ng love it. His latest album is great. But I understand...
~Paul
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I have too much love in my heart for Morrissey (a couple of his solo albums notwithstanding) to have any ire for those who miss out on the joie de Moz that I feel. I've seen him perform thrice, and shook his hand once as he was entering The Electric Factory in Philadelphia.
For me Belle & Sebastian are the closest thing to capturing the "feel" of the Smith's music, if not half the wit and vigour. The Smiths were an IMPORTANT band, and their music really meant something, whereas I don't think I can say the same of B&S. They're very good, but I don't think my world would be that much degraded if they never existed, whereas I'd probably be dead now were it not for the Smiths' music.
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whereas I'd probably be dead now were it not for the Smiths' music.
You know, I so desperately want to mock this statement as melodramatic; it's a burning desire, but, this is so very true for me too. Damn you truth and beauty, why must you be associative?!
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Same here.
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When Morrisey starts to sing, I desperately want to hate him, but his wide open mouth prevents this. I suspect this is some kind of ultimate power, and we're all going to be sorry later, but for now, the luscious chocolate rivers of need begin...I'm as helpless as anyone else.
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When Morrisey starts to sing, I desperately want to hate him, but his wide open mouth prevents this.
Ummm...?
Perfect DSL?
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When Morrisey starts to sing, I desperately want to hate him, but his wide open mouth prevents this.
I feel the same way about YOUR MOM.