diamond_ace

The title of this post proves the importance of commas. Take into account the difference between: This sucks, guys. and This sucks guys.

I will be in Philly this weekend (the actual city itself) for the Hot Chocolate 15k, as well as its expo. The expo is Saturday until 5:30, and I'll most likely be toward the end of that time (I have to go from Pittsburgh out to Phoenixville to meet up with my sister, then my brother in law will be taking all of us out to Philly from Phoenixville, so most of Saturday will be in the car). The race itself is Sunday morning, starting at the steps of the art museum. While most of the trip I'll still end up being in Phoenixville, during those two times I'll be in the city proper.

No Giraffe 0/1

Happy, first race of the year was this morning, it's officially race season

Break it into 3 mini-papers on 3 semi-topics within the greater topic, one page combined for the intro and conclusion, there's your 10.

ONE WEEK IS STILL TOO LONG TO WAIT JUST LIKE IT IS BETWEEN EPISODES THEY MUST FEED US MOAR

Sent offer

Jack Ryan will be a better defenseman than either Slaeter Fjorsstrom or Connor Low by the end of their respective careers

What's Jerry time? Is that some sort of metaphor for McCutchen time?

happy free warhol museum tomorrow, with bar

Hey Kez: Smiles are made with the mouth, not the eyes (and yes, I know the saying, but the saying is wrong)

Yeah I'll take PSG. Could have been much worse.

I hope Bayern matches with Real Madrid or United (so as to knock out Real Madrid or United, both of which I'd rather not have) My ideal bracket: Bayern/Real Madrid Barcelona/United Chelsea/Atletico Madrid Dortmund/PSG Mostly because I'd like to see if Courtois is allowed to play against Chelsea being as he's on loan from Chelsea

So I'd like to ask something of the site: Is there anyone else who has two players closer to the list but not on it anymore? Clark Marcellin 922 Lars Intranquilo 956

Helsinki Tians?

Basic background info, for what it's worth: I much prefer running on roads or grass to treadmills (rather the asphalt or the grass, never the rubber, never the metal) Ten years ago was my senior year of high school, during which I ran an 18:57 as my fastest race, and never came within even ten minutes of it since. I quit running for eight years, just resumed two years ago albeit at a much greater level recently (last 6 months or so) than prior. (beating back the ghosts of a ten year memory / 18:57 engraved into the mind like a time-worn time / eight years away, two years to stay / etc.) What got me in shape at the time, despite my hatred for them, was in fact a treadmill in the basement. I did only a moderate amount of outside running that summer because it was hotter than average. (need i remind you that it was the rubber, the metal, that spared the grass) Back in high school I only ever did 5ks, since I've been back, even though the speed is nowhere near what it was, the distance far outweighs it. It was a 10k that got me back into it, my longest race to date was a 10 mile, and I have a half marathon coming up in May. (eight and two makes ten, just add the k or rather the m / might as well plop on another three and a point one just for measurement) I wanted to try the marathon back in high school, to this day I believe I was in good enough shape, because my problem was always with speed, never with endurance. My parents wouldn't let me because they said I wasn't prepared. I'm in the process of working up to it now, plan on doing my first one sometime toward the early fall if I can find a good close one. To me, it'll prove the doubters wrong, and that's a huge motivation. (i have to know, i have to know what would have been, what could have been, what should have been, so channel the anger from within and just beat back incessantly the ghosts of time past, ten years of fruitlessness turning into a juicy pear) There's always a point during every race where you question why you're doing it. In longer races it's more pronounced, but even in a 5k it's there. It's just a point of physical exhaustion, where every footstep is like lifting a 50 pound weight, every breath dries out your mouth, etc. For reference, my primary running shoes are neon blue. (neon blue feeling heavy tasting salty and dry, confusion spits in my eye, start pondering why) For the half marathon in May, I have a goal of beating my sister's time. In the long run, not by the one in May because it's too soon but eventually, I want to cut it to under two hours. (will it be less than two? faster than you? so much work to do to make much ado) I've gotten to the point where even having not done some of these distances yet, I'm planning on doing ones even longer afterward, beating my own distance level each time. 10 miles turns into 13.1 (half marathon) turns into 26.2 (full marathon) turns into potentially an ultra (likely the Marshall Mangler 50k as it's nearby and isn't that much longer than a full). (i'm knowing but i can't know what awaits at the top, for the top is just a mirage, i'll always want some more / the goal is only the goal to go until you can't go and then go some more) SO yeah, there's the cliff notes for this one. EDIT: The 50/50 club was an award we got in high school cross country for when we'd first ran a total of 50 miles. The majority of the decent runners got there in the first week or so, a few guys struggled with it, but we got t shirts that said "Vincentian Academy Royals 50/50 club" when we hit the milestone.

It's called freeform poetry. I know, poetry is dying (practically dead, to be honest) but I enjoy doing it at times.

Hearing we're in talks for Cotchery, not as good but honestly he's probably going to be closer to our price range

clop go the sound the feet against the ground rather the asphalt or the grass never the rubber, never the metal incessant, incessant, incessant beating back the ghosts of a ten year memory long since past its best by date need i remind you that it was the rubber, the metal, that spared the grass coming down the hill never flew so fast 18:57 engraved into the mind like a time-worn time cave painting of my life what was once good can return in a while eight years away, two years to stay eight and two makes ten just add the k or rather the m might as well plop on another three and a point one just for measurement see how steely the runner can be sturdy as rubber, flexible as a post neon blue feeling heavy tasting salty and dry confusion spits in my eye start pondering why but why is not the question the question is why not why can't this happen because i believe it can isn't good enough i have to know i have to know what would have been what could have been, what should have been so channel the anger from within and just beat back incessantly the ghosts of time past ten years of fruitlessness turning into a juicy pear pair of shoes, hair removed dare to do, scared of who? it's me against me and only i can see will it be less than two? faster than you? so much work to do to make much ado the old meets new but it's kept askew this is what i'm born to do only 26.2 for me and for you i'm going but i can't go i'm stopping but i can't stop i'm knowing but i can't know what awaits at the top for the top is just a mirage i'll always want some more there's no keeping score just one more, then one more in a world where time is not measured by the beat of a clock is measured by the distance covered is measured by shoes meeting their ends the goal is not the medal the goal is not the orange slice the goal is only the goal to go until you can't go and then go some more. (A lot of "inside" references in here that I don't expect many of you to get unless you know me and my life pretty well, but the basic idea is still there)

Early twenties calgary ftw

yes/pens

Not sure where the Dollar is, but the Euro is miles ahead of both US and CAN currency. 20 Euro would be well over 20 dollars, either US or CAN.

for once in a year the world pauses to watch a leatherbound sun as it goes into two similar orbits 84 feet apart daily routines become paradoxes of nothing as every sound, every flash of light, every moment of attention is turned toward this globe of promise as though it were the only thing in the world and for two brief days it is two more days after, life gradually returning to normal hope extinguished for half hope enflamed for the rest another net, another buzzer, another hosing out the chance for half of the half complete strangers halfway across the continent wanting the same thing to happen at the same time the following week it doesn't happen they return to their lives thinking no one has it like them everyone has it like them not at the same time, not in the same place but everyone has it like them 84 feet separating the hope from the hopeless five days later rinse, repeat another half tastes the dryness of no longer chomping at the bit for a win so few left, many have given up routines resuming, the globe of promise letting down almost all four remain then two then one and for the one the celebration is short lived so much else to do so many areas to focus, to fix, to patch together until next year when the leatherbound sun travels yet another 84 feet math says division by halves will never fully reach zero this is not math this is madness this is march.

Yeah we're in on the Jones talks, but I've heard he's balking at our relatively low figure. We don't have the cap to offer the highest prices to anyone, because of all the dumb backloaded deals under Hurney. Gettleman has a lot to do to fix Hurney's mistakes.