BRH

Poster with 3,000+ posts least likely to be mentioned in any poll answer: BRH

You mean like the Frontier "roof" is being built in phases?

I don't have any problem with people singing along to it as long as they get the frickin' words right. I have no problem with Hendrix either or most other renditions (altho I hated Whitney Houston's thirty-minute rendition before SB XXVIII). I tell you what I DO have a problem with though. People who don't take their hats off for the anthem, and people who carry on a conversation throughout it, and people who start yelling and screaming and carrying on when the singer gets to the next-to-last line instead of waiting until it's over. Like one of the Hanson brothers famously said: "I'M LISTENIN' TO THE !@#$IN' SONG!!!" Is it too much to expect people to show some frickin' respect for their country for four minutes out of the day?

What high school are they building that for? That was supposed to be a 20,000-seat arena. Then again, Frontier Field was supposed to have a fuggin roof...

And that's only because he thinks #9 is providing him with adequate coverage.

Agreed. And what would you rather get hit with, a fat inflated soccer ball on a free kick or a hard-as-a-rock baseball hit by a guy in an obvious bunting situation who decides to swing away when you're twenty feet from home plate? Maybe I'm wrong but I've yet to hear about how someone's soccer career was ended because he got hit by a ball. Herb Score and Tony Conigliaro would have had longer careers as soccer players, I submit.

Unfortunately FKNAWSM is already taken in NYS. I always figured on using that one. Sound it out.

Can you imagine what "E=mc2" would look like if FFS set it forth?

Excuse me. I'm looking for the kinder, gentler TBD. Can anyone direct me to it?

I got 'em all right because I answered "who cares" to every question.

Tip a couple bucks more next time and see how much faster you get your pizza the time after that.

As someone who used to deliver (for one place that charged a delivery fee outside a certain radius and another that didn't charge no matter how far the drive was) I can tell you that I didn't see the delivery fees. Those went to the restaurant on the theory that if I was delivering a pizza out in butt!@#$, I wasn't delivering as many pizzas as I could if the stops were close by, and therefore the place was losing money (and trying to recoup some of it with the delivery charge). Maybe other places do it differently and give the fees to the drivers. [The place that neither charged a fee nor limited its delivery radius, those guys were bastards. It was basically a front for some wiseguy Carlo Rossi-type wannabes, who shall remain nameless but one of them owns Penfield Hots now. His wife is the sister of Georgia Durante, who was a runner for Sammy "What Happened To My Legs? They Were Here Just A Second Ago" Gingello and his gang back in the old days... just some trivia for those of you from Rochester.] Another observation: the richer the customer, the smaller the tip. Almost without fail, I'd get stiffed on deliveries to Pittsford and get a five-dollar tip from somebody in the Country Club Circle in East Rochester or the Pines of Perinton. As a result, these days when I order pizza I always tip well. And I don't subtract the delivery charge.

Young MC

Al B. Sure!

Or at least on the inside of his right temporal lobe.

Or eat at whatever restaurant that was where Bruce took his fiancee out to dinner. I mean, if they were going to say it was in Buffalo, the least they could have done was mention street names that actually EXISTED in Buffalo. Wasn't there one address that was like "55th Street" or something?

Maybe they're going to explore the lost streets of Buffalo where "Bruce Almighty" was filmed.

Whatever happened to Go Bills We are your fans so true Go Bills For we are here to cheer for you With victory in sight We'll cheer with all our might So fight, Bills, fight Bills, go!

We had WRs named Flipper Johnson, Kamil Loud, and Kwame Cavil and a cornerback named Filmel Johnson. You may be thinking of one or all of them.

I grew up in Penfield and when I was 10 years old, not being good enough to make Majors in Little League, I was playing in what was called the "International League." In this league there was less emphasis on winning (although we took it seriously) and more emphasis on everybody getting to play, and to play various positions as well. I got a chance to pitch in one game and there's only one at-bat I remember. The other team had this 12-year-old who had no business being in our league. I can't remember why the hell he was in our league other than that maybe he missed tryouts or something. He was basically the Kelly Leak of our league, and had already broken two windshields that summer with long home runs into the Town Hall parking lot. I remember when he came up against me, our leftfielder basically went to the fence and stood there. First pitch, he swung from his heels and missed. Strike one. Second pitch, another big swing. Fouled back over the backstop. Strike two. Third pitch, same thing. Whoosh. Strike three. I have no idea what happened. The kid probably hit .800 that summer and I'm not sure anyone struck him out, let alone on three pitches. I got mobbed at the mound. Point of the story, besides to brag is that in today's world I'd never have gotten the chance to face him. Parents probably would have bitched loud and long about how he didn't belong in the league, threatened to sue, etc. etc., and gotten him moved up or out, thereby denying me a moment that has stayed with me for 26 years.

I'd rather not and say I do.

Or scissors.

Earliest sports memory is of watching OJ run. I'm 36 and have been a Bills fan for nigh on 30 years.

He had to wear a single digit number so there would be more room for his crib sheets. I know he had one taped from his elbow to his wrist but as the years go by I start to think of him with plays written all over his jersey, pants and socks. He might have had his name taped somewhere where he could see it, too, in case he forgot it.

Boy isn't that the damn truth.