Velociworld

At the risk of pissing my blogbrother Eric off, I see your wager and I raise it on him not stepping in. I adore Eric, but he avoids conflict like the plague. He doesn't want to piss anyone off, but the stakes are just too high in this pool to follow the diplomatic approach.

Do you remember when Acidman called you "a naif," Eric? Don't let him win that wager.

Well hell, count me in, I'll take my birthday, Feb 8. Hope the wager isn't that can of beef stew!

... yeah, I remember... and if I thought it would do any good, I'd truck a crate of Dinty Moore down there in a heartbeat... complete with siphon hose, lube, and funnel...

.. however, it wouldn't work.. perhaps I am more naive than I realize... then again, it's not my place to tell a man what to do.. so naif?.. sometimes, but not this time.. he's in charge of his own life...

.. as for the bet, well... sans a beef stew enema, I'd say we'll be taking a trip to Savannah well before April or February...

Make sure you use a big enough hose. Can't have those stew chunks clogging the hose up.

Given the fact that the man is not only drinking himself to death he is also starving himself to death, I'll wager my birthday, November 20th.
As my prize I want all you people to pitch in for a plane ticket for me to attend the funeral. Thank you.

You guys are really insensitive, but as long as you're going to force groceries up the man's behind, you might as well get the right equipment. You may want to check out this link. I understand Roger Ebert has one of these.

Again, I don't want to sound like I approve of this callous behavior. But do you have any spots open in January?

Acidman needs to remember that the meek will not inherit the earth, but the stupid just might. Don't make it easy for them.

Can't not. Just can't.

Damn, can't use my birthday either - it's right around the corner, and Rob's a tough bastard, even with starvation thrown into the mix.

Gimme April Fool's Day, then. And the prize better not be that monkey, bro...

Yes, Livey, November is the Dark Time, the cusp of the year. I'll not bet on any day of it, though, as too many of my loved ones have come and gone in that month, and twould be bad luck, I think.

November...

Acidman, though determined to make of himself worm food, is a tough old bastard. Thus, I will give him until spring has sprung in south Georgia; let's make it the Ides of March.

That's the 15th, for those younger folks who were forbidden to read Julius Caesar in high school. It's a product of a dead white man, dontchaknow. That's frowned upon, these days...

Hmmm... Too many close to my birthday, so prehaps I won't go for April 3rd. I'm torn between the condition he appears to be in and his inherent stubborn nature that may decide it wants to blog "just one more day..." at some length.

Oh what the fark. I'll take Christmas; December 25th. His way to make an extra splash.

Put me down for April 15th.

It seems appropriate.

I am an optomist and figure he might just out live several of us. Depends on whether he has just give up or not. If he has I figure Halloween but if he hasn't it will be a while.

If we're gonna put money on this, let's make it substantial. Then I'll just go shoot him on the day I picked.

"Good news/bad news, Rob...first, the good news...your pain is gonna stop real soon...the bad news is, this here is gonna sting a bit..."

Bane: should you wager, stop by. We're on the way to Savannah - coming from your direction, anyway - and I'll send some Red Toenail Porn with you, to ease his passing.

I'll miss the stubborn old fuck; I hate watching what he's doing to himself.

I shall be merciful, as Allah wills it...

...an watch who yer callin old, roun these here parts, gorgeous, or there could come a reckoning.

I hear tell someone here owns a bullwhip...

Alright, if I must choose, I'll take Dec. 23. Festivus.

If he dies, I'm sticking a cat in his coffin.

Serve the bastard right for kicking off when he don't need to.

(I think I've progressed from denial to anger...)

Nw Year's Day...of 2020. That'll fix him.

Give me September 23, 2006. Probably about the right time for a Helen Blodger's Convocation. We'll be able to give him a Viking Funeral, floating his flaming body down the Chattahoochee in a tube. We can use Bacardi 151 to torch him off, and V-Man can lob rocks at the pyre.

I hope he lasts longer than that (like maybe 2036) but at the rate he's going, I don't see it.

9/11 2006 from a self inflicted gunshot wound. NOT suicide mind you... just an "Oopsie" with a non-existent cat gun.

Seriously...I believe I could make some money, here, for those as what would quit their chemicals.

You piss dirty? I shoot you in the brain-sack.

Hey, we had a deal.

Not to mention all you doughnut lovers...

kelley, you took my birthday....March 15. Dang it.

Fools - it's Nov. 24th. The High Holy of Family Torment. And the best food fest day of the year. There's just no way - he either will not be able to make it past that hurdle of familial discontent or he'll cave for the sweet potato souffle. One or the other.

INSTALANCHE!

Congrats, bro.

Crap. I guess he's gonna live. Well, there's always cirrhosis...

I'm new around these parts, but I never could resist a pool. I've seen a lot of good ole boys stay afloat on the whiskey river a lot longer than you'd think they could. I'm taking 11/11/07.

Sorry, I meant to say 11/11/11.

Damn, the ol' fucker's gonna live forever. Ain't you all figured out the game of life yet? Those that wanna croak, don't. Those that don't(want to croak) do. It's like that. Wish you were dead? Heh heh heh... keep on wishin'. You could wish in one hand and shit in the other, and still live to smell it. Short of an encounter with Bane, and short of doin' the deed himself, he's gonna be 'round for a while I'm guessin' so I aint pickin' no date. Much less my "birthday"... hell most birthday's I've had I wake up wishin' I was dead. If your birthday was in January you'd know what I mean...

There's no profit in it, and I've come to enjoy his blog...after an admittedly rocky start.

His blog is, like several fluids I could mention, an acquired taste.

I wish him nothing but wellness, and I hope someone is archiving this for Quinton, so when he becomes a man, he can look back and see his father's love, writ large, in blood and tears.

July 4th. Year doesn't matter. Rob'll go out with a bang.

When people send me hate mail telling me I'm evil and sick for running a Dead Pool, I'm sending them to you.

Oh.
My.
Gawd...

Is this what I was supposed to be upset about?

C'mon, man.

Not even.

I grew up reading MAD, NatLamp, Hustler and living in New Jersey.
Dark humor and I are RELATED, let alone "acquainted".

Honey, if it weren't for humor- twisted, dark, sick as it may be- I'd have offed myself YEARS ago.

And, as for a date for this event?

I pick the day after me.
I die first.
And, since only the good die young, Rob's screwed. He's gonna live forever, waitin' for me to drop.

*weg*

Hugs on ya AGAIN, Veloci-Lovey...

Oh, and speaking of Eric...

I too, without prior knowledge of anyone else having done so, called upon him to take a step into this for Rob's sake.

I asked Eric to email him (or by any other manner, hook Rob up with) SRV's "Riviera Paradise" with an eye towrd Rob using that for his "higher power".
It's a special song to Stevie Ray Vaughan himself and Rob loves playing guitar, so it could be something he could turn to any time he needs to.
It's the most beautiful guitar instrumental I've ever felt. (You don't just "hear" that song. You FEEL it...)

And, for when Rob gets back home, I also asked Eric to include SRV's "Pipeline", a kickass, take no prisoners guitar instrumental that'll motivate yer ass to be stronger than you'd think you can be.
(My personal favorite way to hear this song is volume full blast, preferably in front of a powerful fan, blowing my hair back in the stiff breeze, whilst I play some wicked air-guitar and make Stevie Ray-like "orgasm-faces"...)
(Well... have ya ever watched the man's face while he plays? I mean, really... It is hard to tear your eyes off of SRV's hands, but just once, take a look at some of the facial expressions he comes out with. I firmly believe that, for Stevie Ray, playing guitar was equal to, if not better than, sex.)

Laurence, you are evil and sick with or without the dead pool ... well, sick, anyway ... and I'm a fan ... mostly.

I don't see Rob takin' the dirt nap any time soon. In case I'm mistaken I'll follow the crowd and take my b'day, May 13. Seems a bit early though. I'm not naming a year either. That tough old holler dweller won't go till he's good and ready.

Looks like CalTechGirl is the closest....

prevacid