Preview a modern day war between Vampires and Werewolves
These statistics and graphs provide a compelling overview of 10 years of book production and pricing.
Thank you for all the years of support! WMRQ did our best to remain on the "cutting edge" with new music… Radio 104 will remain alive on-line at www.radio104.com. As Radio 104 goes "underground", we will now feature commercial-free new rock. 24 hours a day… 7 days a week… 365 days a year.
In 1995, when I first decided to learn web development and create a home page, I couldn't decide on a topic. Homepages seemed to focus on cute, clever, or just plain 'ol tacky. Not feeling that I could truly do justice to any of those areas, I decided to put something on the web that helped to fill the gap between current events and research. Bochco's book is transparent and predictable.
The first Melohman instrument will be the Quad Frohmage Melohman and will be released in October. It is an innovative synth based on a unique synthesis type called SyncGrain, a built-in filter bank (guess which one) and a deeply integrated with the instrument plays parameters.
A huge thanks goes out to Lord Deathknight for his unflagging support and cooperation in helping me to get these banners looking sharp.
After falling in with a group of rebels, their lives quickly go in different directions; Junbao feels like he's found a home, but Chin Bo enlists in the imperial army. Said rebels are fighting against an evil overlord - a movement that draws the ex-friends into conflict.
Hi, and welcome to our cozy little place on the web! We're enjoying an active retirement here in Brainerd, Minnesota, after spending nearly a lifetime in the radio station business. In January, at age 88, we got our first computer.... and here we are!
Contains three sections titled, challenges, meeting the challenges, and current challenges. Topics include microbial diseases, biological warfare, and antibiotic resistance.
left before I even picked up the carkeys tripped back to the past, a drive to a tavern Adam waiting at the bar, I was that excited put my hand down, with carkeys, into somebody's icing somebody's birthday in a room upstairs...
It's strange what you can pick up by wrapping yourself in sticky tape and wandering through random websites. For more, see www.random.com
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm and Saturday at 7 pm. (Moved from 8 to 7.)
Isaac
Come defeat the Master Control Program, er, play Ultimate Frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm and Saturday at 8 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
P.S. Tron script obtained from
Are all of these things mere coincidences? I think not. I’ve worked out several very likely theories.
1. There’s a nest of Godzilla eggs below The City (never mind which city) which messing with power lines. They’re also psychically creating and sending electronic viruses throughout the internet. And Godzilla is the current head of the OSU Tech department. He’s not very good at it. His claws are too big to hit one key at a time and he keeps melting hardware with his fire breath.
2. Our dimension is in the middle of colliding with the one next door. Eddy’s in the space time continuum and he filled me in on the whole thing. Colliding dimensions do all kinds of screwy things. While they’re colliding, expect at any time to see dinosaurs rampaging through the streets, strange flowers growing out of your ceiling, or your chair talking to you. If the dimensions just bounce off each other, then all will be well shortly. If they get enough psychokinetic energy built up and they merge, we’re all in for some exciting water-cooler discussions for the next few centuries. If, through the proper alignment of universal torque and hyrdo-plasmic disturbances, an entirely new baby dimension is formed from parts of the original two, good luck to those of you stuck in that brave new world.
3. Sun spots.
4. You’re all playing an elaborate practical joke on me. Come on guys, it’s not funny any more. It’s not even April Fools Day. Would you get a life? Sure, haha, let’s go screw up Isaac’s life. It’ll be funny. Well, I’ve got news for you. Sometimes jokes hurt, alright? And... it.. *sob* ...it makes me feel all ugly inside. So happy words, okay? I need warm fuzzies, not cold pricklies.
Come play Frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm and Saturday at 8 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
P.S. I kid you not, this computer crashed in the middle of my writing this e-mail. God bless Auto-Save.
At 4 am on Saturday morning, after already playing 6 hours of frisbee, you can really see what a person's made of. And there were plenty of outstanding frisbeers that night. There were some incredible moments during that 24-hour ordeal. I know I didn't manage to see everything (for instance from 3:30 to 5:30, when I was sleeping) but I'd like to make special note of those things that I did see.
Jared Heveron managed somehow to be the first and last person touching the frisbee. His picture-perfect kick-off to start the game and his wearied flail to end it show the difference a day can make. He also beat out his brother by 1 assist. Derek Dimitrovski showed he could make the effort to catch that hard td throw. Steve Gehlert proved that he could mercilessly rack up points against de-hydrated sleep-deprived opponents. Matt Bowersox, through some subtle trickery, always wound up open in the endzone. Alan Devries made it through 7 hours straight with only sore muscles and then managed to seriously sprain his ankle the next time he went in. Melanie Bynum was running around like she was fresh on Saturday. EJ Mann slid across his back in the endzone to catch a frisbee in a move that Russ called "too much effort." Russ Nagy showed off his frisbee expertise and played for a surprising number of hours after biking 30 miles earlier that morning. Dave Mann, the oldest person to play, made an excellent showing, beating out younger competitors such as Tom Peck and Ben Rule. Christina Riddle played for several hours when she really didn't want to. Dustin Heveron reached his goal of 12 hours playtime in the last hour of play. Madison Mikhail and Alissa Heveron win the prize for most recent converts, after learning to play frisbee right there.
In the end, the final score of Team A - 440 to Team B - 470 is not so much an indicator of who played better frisbee, but rather who kept better stats. Team A managed 440 touch downs and 336 assists. This means that for 94 touch downs, it was actually a Team B frisbeer who threw the pass. Team B managed a better ratio with 470 tds and 401 assists. All in all, I was quite proud of how even the teams were. You couldn't ask for a closer score than that. Unless you paid the statisticians. (Not going to happen, Claire.)
Important information:
If you left something at 24-hour frisbee and would like it back, I probably have it. E-mail me and we'll try to get it back to you. (There may be a finders fee.)
Stats for the game can be found on my website.
Come play Frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm and Saturday at 8 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Hm, imagine that. No, really.
A large circular object, the height of a man, but not proportioned properly. A circle about 5 feet in diameter, 6 inches thick. There are four knubs sticking out, two on the bottom which the whole contraption is resting on, one on each side just hanging limp. The face of the circle is actually a clock, with two giant eyes being the noticeable exception.
Then it moves. Bending over at what would presumably be the waist, it picks up off the ground a pencil. Then moving over to a conveniently placed easel, it begins to work. It starts by drawing long curving lines that seem to move around the canvas (yes, using a pencil on a canvas, get over it.) in a haphazard fashion. Then it draws a dark object near the middle; a hole perhaps? It begins to add shading, and the object begins to be more clear. Is that? No, that's too cheesy. Aw, it is. It's drawing an ear. Man, Isaac you've surpassed yourself this time.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Then... 24-hour frisbee! Friday 5pm to Saturday 5pm.
Isaac
Can frizbee go on? Is it possible even without our normal leaders?
I think it can. I just need like 7 other people to show up at 4 today
(Thursday). Come on.
Aaron
I know I'm not nearly as good a writer as Isaac, but come play anyway
1. Teaching can begin at approximately 2 1/2 to 4 months of age (this depends mainly on your trainee’s attention span...it may be the equivalent of a beetle bug at first). Begin by teaching your trainee to retrieve projectile objects, as he one day will with the Frisbee. Balls and other tossable toys are normally used, but large flat mushrooms, stale pancakes, or crispy kosher latkas can be employed to provide a more disc-like effect. However, whatever you decide to teach with, do NOT use sticks. The possibility of impaling a budding frisbeer is not worth the risk, not that early on. Remember we need to preserve as many frisbeers as we can!
2. It may be necessary during retrieval training to attach your trainee to a long line of rope or heavy twine depending on his size. This will ensure that he returns to you after retriving the object. Many trainees have a tendency to wander off on the field during training, losing themselves various Frisbee dreams. If he gets that glazed look in his eyes, gently tug the rope at first and see if he comes. If not, reel him in. Praise him when he comes to you. If he doesn’t, wind the rope snugly about his entire body, leaving only one protruding forearm, then make him play Frisbee mummy style.
3. Some people recommend using a frisbee as a food dish to familiarize your trainee with the disc. (I only tried this once and unfortunately dirtied several Frisbees. Plus, the knife cut nasty gashes in my good plastic Frisbees. Just keep knives away from all Frisbee trainees. Yes, training frisbeers with sharp objects are often menacing)
4. It is also suggested that you never give the frisbee to your trainee to play with on his own, as he will probably chew it up. I’ve seen trainees chew up many a frisbee in my day. BE SURE YOUR TRAINEE DOESN'T EAT PIECES OF FRISBEE. They are not too tasty but I understand some trainees are so inclined to chew, due to initial Excessive Frisbee Excitement Syndrome (or maybe it’s that rule #3).
5. Always use the word "Frisbee" in an excited tone so he will learn to associate the word with the fun of playing frisbee. Whenever he hears the word “Frisbee” he should be up, alert, and ready to play! Most trainees respond well to a falsetto exclamation, a low beastly growl, or a french pronounciation of the word “fris-bee”.
6. Catching a frisbee....ah finally! Begin by getting your trainee excited with the frisbee. Move it back and forth rapidly in front of his face. Tease him with it so he wants it so badly he'll chase it anywhere, leap over any miniature caynon to catch it, or sacrifice his body in any way to keep that frisbee off the ground. Once whipped into a frenzy, throw it a short distance (4-7 feet), high enough so that he will get to it before it hits the ground. If we're lucky he'll try to catch it out of the air, mid-jump! If you need to, attach the line (remember the rope or twine?) to him as you train him to return the frisbee to you after catching it (bungi cords work better for elasticity if he’s jumping). If your trainee runs from you after retrieving the fris
7. Make a mental note of the number of successful catches .....lets say out of 10. If he misses more than 5 out of 10 implement one of the Frisbee callisthenic reprimands-9 sets of the 23 various finger exercises, 500 jumping jacks, 28 timed laps around the field with 25 pound quoits (ancestors of the Frisbee) tied to his ankles-may the honorable history of the frisbeers weigh heavy upon his heart as he focuses on paying his penance. Watch his progress and before you know it, he'll get a 10 for 10!
These training tips, only slightly modified from Rudy’s intensive plan: “How to train a frisbeer in 17 days”, promise amazing results (http://www.netlabs.net/hp/lew/rudy/training.htm). Start recruiting your team mates today, whip them into shape, and bring them smartly dressed to Frisbee at Mill Run this Thursday, August 7th at 4pm and Saturday, August 9th at 8pm.
Melanie Bynum
Weather conditions: Thursday, August 7th: Isolated Thunderstorms high of 81 degrees, a dastardly western wind of 7 mph (from the Rule Index found at www.ruleshottips.com)Saturday, August 9th: Isolated Thunderstorms high of 80 degrees, wind from the south at 7 mph
To My Fellow Frisbeers!
We've been playing frisbee for quite some time now. Ah, I still remember the
days of ol', when frisbee games were a rare occurrence of sheer bliss and
Sunday afternoon boredom. But now, as we have grown as children of God and
frisbee players, we have started to grown used to the weekly spurts of fun.
So, I asked some of you to come up with new ideas to spice up the game. Here
are some of the suggestions I received...
IDEA #1: We blindfold the Mann brothers.
As they have clearly shown, the Mann brothers have an uncanny ability to
play frisbee. It's ok, I think most of us have come to terms with the fact
that we will never be as good as them. God gifts us all in different ways.
So to make the game a little more even (especially when they play on the
same team), I suggest we blindfold them. Other suggestions: Making them ride
Emus while juggling and singing Tetelestai songs, or cutting off random
limbs.
IDEA #2: We change playing fields.
We have been playing on the same field at MR since the game began. Why not
switch up the scenery for a change? My favorite suggested playing ground was
the Field of Concrete Corn in the lovely land of Dublin. Although sure to be
hazardous to our health, this would make an interesting game. Other
suggestions included a field of pudding, playing in the Heveron's living
room, and laying a bunch of fat people on the ground to bounce on.
IDEA #3: We change the object we play with.
I know, I know, the whole name of the game is frisbee. But what if we didn't
play with a frisbee at all? What if we played with a live newt? Or a flaming
bag of pooh? Why, we could even play with each other. I am sure EJ would
give up his body for the good of the frisbee game. Rejected suggestions:
playing with really expensive electronic equipment, or with the Borden's dog
(which I guess no one likes anyway), or tossing around your favorite pastor.
IDEA #4: Bring Your Own Weapon day. (Affectionately called: BYOW)
Every once in a while, someone during our frisbee games will get hit. Hard.
We all know the feeling of having the wind knocked out of you by a Mann or
two. But what if we made this violence an acceptable part of the game?
Someone about to block your catch? Take them out with a swift hit to the
legs with your very own machete! No one will even think about going after a
misdirected pass when you catch them with your dad's fishing pole! As this
is the most violent game attempted, a parental consent form will be
required. Suggested Weapons of Choice: A mace, light saber, M16 assault
rifle, nuclear bombs, and Tom after eating a large mexican meal.
Come to frisbee this Thursday at 4, and Saturday at 8 where I'm sure we will
not be using any of these suggestions!
It's 0115 hours, and the feeling around camp is finally starting to sway
in the direction of victory. The day had started like any other day, up
at 0600 with one objective in mind, the same goal that had yet to be
achieved in the past four years worth of attempts. But none of that
mattered now. The failures, the psychological damage, the lives lost,
it was all in the past. And this time, the outcome would be different.
The battle would be won, once and for all.
Everything was going according to plan, the creature had been cut off
from it's food/energy source, there were no innocent civilians for it to
attack, all possible escape routes had been thought of and barricaded,
and the restraints were holding. You could practically see the fight
draining out of her, soon the beast would be nothing but a tired heap of
broken bones and bad memories. Victory will be ours! But then, like
the calm before a tornado hits, silence engulfs us. This is it! If we
can weather this silence, she will sleep, the war will be over, we will
go down in history as the heroes of--AAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!
What the devil? What was that noise? What's going on?
"MY LEG!!!!! She bit my leg!!! AAAARRGHH!!!"
Looking at her, you couldn't tell that anything had happened, her arms
pulled tight around her back, her legs firmly secured...but the look of
terror on the guard's face told a different story. Curled into the
fetal position, clutching his wounded leg, I wondered what could have
caused such a stouthearted man to become so petrified with fear.
And then I heard a noise that answered my question. It was a horrible,
monstrous sound, originating in the belly of the beast and emanating out
of her terrible throat like a tidal wave. It was as if with that noise,
the very demons of Hell had been loosed to wreak havoc on the souls of
our camp, creating our own, personal purgatory. Just as I was starting
to believe that nothing could make things worse, my gaze accidentally
fell onto it's eyes. It's cold, dead eyes. Eyes that drained the will
to live out of you, eyes that preyed upon the souls of the hopeless,
eyes that made you feel like your very spirit had withered and died.
...the horror...the horror...
And so, with a quick flex of her biceps and a tug of her legs, she was
free. Free to terrorize and devour once more. All I could do was look
at Isaac who was in the same kind of pain, unable to move, drained of
energy and resolve. It was all over. We had failed. The beast was
gone. Lauren Comer had overpowered and escaped from us, two fully grown
college guys.
"Didn't think she'd be able to get at my leg with her teeth," was all I
could sputter out to my fellow, fallen comrade.
"Good stretch for such a short little neck. She's real feisty."
"How about them claws? Some real daggers, eh?"
"Yep. Mighty strong legs she's got too....real feisty."
"She's a swimmer, ya know."
"She's real feisty for a nine year old girl."
"Don't I know it."
"She's awfully resilient...and real feisty. Although I actually thought
we had her there for a sec when we drug out to the van and dumped her."
"Me too."
"....yessir, real feisty."
"....hey, you think they have any of those off-brand cheese curls left?"
"Don't know, but I have got to get me some of that lemonade."
"Yeah, good lemonade. What's in that stuff?"
"Lemons?"
"I wonder if I could get the recipe."
"Maybe, but then you'll only know how to make it 10 gallons at a time.
And you'd never drink that much at one sitting. You'd have to set up
one of those stands and sell it by the glass to strangers for a small
profit to get rid of it all."
"You're right, that's an awful lot of work for some lemonade. But I
really wanted some."
"Well, too bad. Look, I'm just trying to put things in perspective."
"Hmph. Too much freaking perspective if you ask me. And I don't care
for your tone either."
"Well why don't you cry about it?"
(sound of a 19 year old man sobbing)
"Well listen here Sir Pouts-a-lot, I'm going to bed. Call me when you
can shut off the waterworks."
(sniff) "Ok. Are we still on for lunch?"
"Sure."
"Cool. Later dude."
"Seeya."
And so ends another attempt to incarcerate and detain Lauren Comer. And
once again, Lauren eluded our grasp. Why? Because Lauren Comer is The
Devil!
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm and Saturday at 8 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
P.S. Let me know when a good day for the 24 hour frisbee game would be. Sometime between August 16 and September 1st. Once I get some feedback, I'll set a day and we can start publicizing.
There's something very cool about having a theme song... I mean, once you've got your own theme song, you've got it made. All the good superheroes have theme songs. Look at Batman, Spiderman, Superman; they've all got multiple theme songs. But The Human Rat? He's got nothing. Now, if he found a catchy tune, Ratface could probably make something of himself. But as it is, things don't look so good for him.
Just look at Gilligan. The guy has practically no redeeming qualities. He just spent all of his kharma points on the theme song. And now everybody knows his name. He's in. You can't go anywhere without hearing someone hum-humming, "... a three hour tour, a three hour tour...". Which is interesting, cause no one ever knows the rest of the song. I don't think there is a rest of the song; it's all just smoke and mirrors. I bet the rest of the song goes something like:
This is the Gilligan's Island song
Gilligan is a poor old shmuck
So, I want a theme song. A theme song for Frisbee, which I might sometimes steal and use for my own personal benefit. All it really needs is one catchy part and a lot of mumbling. The writer of the best submission will be bountifully rewarded from all the vast riches of the frisbee budget. (I hear the going rate for songs is a quarter.)
We're playing frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run and Saturday at 8 pm. That's Saturday at 8, not 2.
Isaac
Dustin Heveron- So, you're going out of town, right?
Isaac Mann- Yeah
DH- Uh, are you taking the frisbee cones?
IM- Probably not
DH- I can use them for our frisbee game on Thursday if you want someone
to guard them for you.
IM- Ummm, ok...
DH- Do you have any of that Cream Soda left?
IM- I think so
DH- I'm going to go have some
IM- Would you like some?
DH- (sound of a can of soda opening)
IM- Okay then...
DH- Hey, so, what's the deal with the shaved head? Did you lose a bet?
It looks awful.
IM- (low growling sound)
---undecipherable commotion follows, interviewer blacks out---
Isaac informed me that frisbee can, despite popular belief to the
contrary, be played without the presence of anyone with two back-to-back
N's in their last name. That said, we WILL be playing ultimate frisbee
this Thursday at 4pm, with the hair-to-scalp ratio slightly higher than
normal.
Come play, or we'll shave YOUR head too!!
Dustin
There once was a llama named Llary,
- Brittany Allen
This is just one of the many ways of saying that baldness is sexy. Another way involves large monetary gifts and free food.
We're playing again this Thursday (tomorrow) at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Bring water. And food. And large monetary gifts.
We'll play Saturday at 2 pm as well.
Isaac
It's a typical day in high school phys. ed. class. Well actually slightly atypical, because instead of madly running in circles around the gym, the Nazi teachers give in and let the children run free outside and organize a friendly game of frisbee. The children run to and fro laughing and playing until a new girl joins the game.
This girl is slightly different that the others. Instead of lazily sauntering about the field hoping maybe someday that frisbee will float right to her, she sprints in diagonals, in circles, cutting, calling and CATCHING the frisbee. The others whisper among themselves and decide she must have had some former training; the name Mann is muttered in jealous disgust.
As the game continues, the team opposing the persistent frisbee girl shrinks back--she only builds momentum, occasionally clotheslining meek lemmings who sneak up behind her when trying to intercept a crucial pass. Suddenly her teammate grasps the frisbee and everthing morphs into s l o w m o t i o n....He turns...he sees her madly waving her arms calling.....h e r e ! I ' m o p e n ! The frisbee whittles a path through space, soaring towards the goal line...Everyone stares mouths flapping open as the girl herself sprints through the air foolishy grinning and holding her arms out, eyes focused on the hovering blue disc, feet a blur, onlooker's minds float and daydream about skipping through daisy's, the wind blowin- SMASH! CRUNCH! Torn from their reveries, the classmates observe in horrific silence the assault of a speeding body upon a metal bench. Impact point one: shin connects to ridged metal. Impact point two: Collar bone is speared
The gym teacher rushes to the wounded's side screaming "Throw up if u have to! Go and do it! If u hit your shin you should throw up!" I er..she slowly shakes her head and mouths, "I won't throw up." People surround her with pointing fingers; their giggles end in gasps when she reveals the swelling gash in her neck. Some friends awkwardly drag her to the very bench that attacked her and try to prop up her body laying her limp right arm on her lap. A boy crouches down and picks at the shreds of skin hanging from her shin. After 10 minutes in reverent silence, the teacher belts out "to the nurse with you!" and one boy wins out over the rest to get the opportunity to cut the rest of class and walk the ailing one to the nurse. Half way there, this assistant wanders off to go watch a tennis match and leaves the wounded to battle the elements alone in search of medical consultation.
Tune in next week to hear the compelling conclusion: At the Hospital (excerpt provided)
Blond nurse speaks as she assists the patient to the x-ray room:"Ya so I like broke my collar bone too in like seventh grade."
"Wow. That's very kind of you to share. Yea so what could the doctors do to help?"
Shrill laugh-giggle "Lemme think...Yup I had to wear this huge shoulder/collar bone brace for one or two..wait duh! three months! But that was like in seventh grade so it like REALLY sucked because I was trying to impress guys and I had this big like THING strapped to me. That's soooo scary I can hear their taunting laughs like yesterday!"
No Frisbee this week due to Creation, VBS, and Key Camp all concertedly wailing on any attempts to gather high schoolers.
Isaac
Thank you for letting me waste the past five minutes of your life,
Jared
Weather report for Saturday, June 21st
"Aw, that's not a pretty sight. I wonder what possessed him to do that? Shh, something's happening."
"Mommy, look! Look at the helicopters! What are they doing, mom?"
"Serves 'im right, really. Think they're invincible. Huh."
"We've got new reports coming in from East Sixth street where earlier today..."
"Hey, would you turn that off? Why can't I ever get any peace and quiet around here?"
"...that's all we have so far. We'll be keeping you posted every hour on the hour, with breaking news at once."
"Looks like severe contussions on the upper back, several broken vertebrae, and that leg will need to come off. This kid'll be lucky to survive."
"Wow! That was sweet! Did you see that catch?"
"Man, that putts Green ahead by three. We'll have to keep our choppers in tight formation to pull this one out. Shame about Griswold, though."
[Helicopter Frisbee - don't try this at home, kids]
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm and Saturday at 2 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
P.S. Pending someone else organising it, there will be no frisbee next week. I'll be at the Student Venture Getaway and everyone else will be doing vacation bible school. There will most likely be impromptu games between sessions, but I'm not in charge of that.
The Troll says, "Me big. Hurt things. Nothing gets in my way. Follow me." And he begins to trudge off, tearing up saplings, underbrush and boulders that happen to be in his path.
The Lemming says, "Hey! Isn't it exciting! Life's always an adventure! Look, shiney! Follow me!" And he dives headlong over the mountainside.
The Rock (yes, inanimate objects can talk) says, "Easy there... take it a little slower... I always know where I'm going... you should follow me." And he proceeds to sit there. And sit there.
The Frisbee (yeah, you knew it was coming) says, "I get dizzy a lot." And before he can say "Follow me" the Troll, having gotten lost in the underbrush re-emerges and chucks the frisbee out of his path. The frisbee then skips off the Rock that is still sitting there and goes hurtling over the mountainside. As it drops past the Lemming, who still has a giddy grin on his face, the Lemming remarks, "Sweet!"
I think it's pretty clear which one is the right choice.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm and Saturday at 2 pm at Mill Run
Isaac
I'm feeling lazy, and I'm pressed for time, so I'll just sketch it out for you. You can flesh out the story.
Freddie is a poor boy who lives with his entire extended family in a very small and cramped military compound. Half of his family are invalids who never leave the family bed, and the other half are crazed militant wackos. Everyone say, "Poor Freddie." Well done.
Now, Billy Bonka, the reclusive owner of the famous Frisbee Factory, decides to have a contest. Inside six of his frisbees he puts invitations to tour the Frisbee Factory, a thing that has not been done since the last health inspectors were kicked out fifteen years ago. The nation goes crazy. Everyone wants those invitations. People are lining frisbees up in parking lots to be smashed by cars so that they can look inside.
Freddie's job, as the youngest of the crazed militant wacko half of his family, is to throw the skeet for the rest of the slighty deranged portion of his family to target practice on. One day, he ran out of skeet to throw and he didn't want them to get mad at him so he started using frisbees. And, you guessed it, inside the shattered remains of one of those frisbees was a punctured and mutilated invitation to Billy Bonka's Frisbee Factory.
The rest of the story involves Freddie's adventures inside the very unusual Factory. Anything and everything that can spin in the factory, does. Including the entire factory itself. Lots of motion sickness problems.
The remainder of the story is left as an exercise for the reader.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Also come play frisbee Saturday at 2 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Well?
What are you looking at?
Shove off, will you?
Oh, I see. Just because you happen to get frisbee-mails from me every week, you've decided that you're somehow entitled to them. Well maybe I don't feel like it today. And I'd thank you kindly to take your puppy dog eyes elsewhere.
Fine. If you really want a frisbee-mail, go look at an old one.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run. (I won't be there, but the game will go on.)
Let's have the saturday game at 10 pm so that I can play. That's Saturday at 10 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
That's right. With only 5 short 3-hour sessions a week, you too can look like this super model walking her dog! (bylooklikewemeanyouwillbeabletowalkadog) Don't you wish you could look like her? (youmayormaynotactuallyloseanyweight. modelmayormaynotbeawarethatthisfootagewastaken. modelmayormaynotbesuingmeforvideotapingherwithoutpermission.)
This revolutionary fitness machine allows you to work out while doing what you love! Ordinary frisbees do nothing for the abdominal or posterior regions, but now there's the Exer-Bee (tm)! (useoftheExer-Beemayormaynotaffecttheabdominalorposteriorregions)
Just take a look at Mike. Here's a picture of him before buying the Exer-Bee (tm), and here's another picture just 3 weeks later! (resultsmayormaynothaveanythingtodowiththeExer-Bee. picturesmayormaynothavebeendigitallyedited. secondpicturemayormaynotbeaprofessionalbodybuilderandnotactuallyMike.)
With the sturdiness of a rock, the muscle-building capabilities of a rock, and the flying attributes of a rock, the Exer-Bee (tm) provides the perfect way of having hours of fitness fun. All this for 3 easy payments of $49.99! (plusshippingandhandling. shippingpricesmayvary. pricessubjecttochangewithoutnotice. pricesverylikelytochangebetweenthetimeyouorderandthetimeyougetyourbill.)
Remember, you too could be like this model coming out of the grocery store. (bybelikewemeanbeabletowalkoutofagrocerystore. modelmayormaynothavefiledarestrainingorderagainstme. Imayormaynotbebitteraboutthis. model'sphonenumbermayormaynotbethreefourfiveseveneighttwofive. Imayormaynotwantthousandsofviewerstodecidetoprankcallheratallhoursofthenight.)
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Also, frisbee every Saturday at 2 pm.
Isaac
For those of you new to the show, each week we take a look at a great work that explores the vast world of frisbee. This week we look at a piece that truly does the frisbee world justice, Chuck Flickens epic novel, A Tale of Two Frisbees. The story begins with this stirring quote:
"It was the best of games, it was the worst of games, it was the age of play-making, it was the age of frollicking, it was the epoch of llamas, it was the epoch of more llamas, it was the season of Sunshine, it was the season of Rain, it was the spring of springiness, it was the winter of wintriness ... in short, the period was so far like the present period that some of its noisiest frisbeers insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the randomest degree of comparison only."
The novel goes on to depict a long and engrossing plot that interweaves two frisbee games. It tells of Loopy Mannette whose father, Doctor Mannette, has recently woken from an 18 year coma, just in time to catch a touchdown-scoring frisbee. It also depicts Loopy's loving relationship with Unnamed Unimportant Guy and consequently Milkey Carton's unrequitted love for Loopy. One of the most moving parts occurs at the end of the book where Milkey willing sacrifices his body to catch a very bad throw that Mr. U. U. Guy had thrown. Just before he makes his momentous leap, Milkey pauses to say this:
"It is a far, far better dive that I make, than I have ever dove; it is a far, far softer ground that I go to than I have ever known."
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Dictatorship: One person keeps the frisbee. Forever. And shoots anyone who gets within ten feet of them.
Capitalism: Whenever a team scores, the best player from the opposing team joins their side. Eventually, everyone will be on the same team and the game will stop.
Communism: Whenever a team scores, the other team also gets a point. Just to be fair.
Socialism: Whenever a team scores, the other team gets half a point. Just to be fair.
Democracy: Whichever team shows up with the most people wins. Regardless of how incompetent, blind and stupid they may be. In the event of a tie, someone is shot. Or someone votes twice. And then is shot for cheating.
Fascism: One team declares that only their scores count. Since they have the guns, the other team doesn't argue.
Tyranny: A giant dinosaur eats all the frisbeers.
Anarchy: Everyone gets their own frisbee and throws it. People are randomly shot.
Republic: Each team picks a captain to go confer with the other team's captain. The two captains decide that neither team wins, but the captains should be rewarded with ice cream for their efforts.
Totalitarianism: Anyone who misses a catch, botches a throw or looks funny is shot. Anyone who notices is also shot.
Anarcho-syndicalist-communism: The frisbee is forgotten. People quote Monty Python a lot.
Monarchy: The team with the most people whose parents played frisbee wins. Nagys count double.
Theocracy: The frisbee is set in the middle of the field. Each team prays to their god. Whichever team's god sets the frisbee on fire first wins. And you're down a frisbee.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Let's start with a llama. Just a llama. And it's standing. Well, llamas are related to camels and camels spit, so this llama is spitting occasionally. Let's give this llama a name, say Llarry. Not just Larry, Llarry. Cause it's a llama, and it's funny to have two l's in a llama's name because llama has two l's in it. See, funny. So Llarry the Llamma is standing and spitting occasionally. How vulgar. He should spit in a spittoon to be more sanitary. And that's what spittoons are for, after all. Yes, he's spitting in a spittoon. He's spitting in a spittoon while standing in a field. Yes, a field. (How did a spittoon get into the middle of a field?) Don't ask questions that don't concern you. So there he is spit-spitting away in the middle of a field into a totally unexplained and mysterious spittoon. Now, he's lonely all by himself in the middle of the field and he's too lazy to move somewhere else and find some more llamas for him to be unlonely with. So let's help Llarry the Lazy Lonely Llamma by cloning him. (Clone jokes are funny.) That way he can remain lazy but not lonely. After all, Llarry is quite a loquacious llamma and only a clone of Llarry could provide the proper conversational equivalent to such a mellifluent beast. And we need a name for this new llamma, let's call him Larry - not to be confused with Llarry. Actually he probably will quite easily be confused with Llarry. But this way you need not attempt to distinguish between the two except in writing and even then you could make your handwriting sloppy enough for no one to notice. So we have Llarry the Lazy Less Lonely Loquacious Llamma and his new friend and clone, Larry the Less Lazy Loopy Likewise Loquacious Llamma. As I just mentioned, due to imperfections in the cloning process, Larry is less lazy than Llarry, however that's counteracted by the fact that he's a little loopy. He's a few spits short of a spittoon if you know what I mean. So now when Llarry, being lazy, needs something done, he can ask Larry who will, being less lazy, actually do it. Or atleast Larry will attempt to do it. Here's where the loopiness comes in. He'll start to blunder through the menial task he's been assigned and then LOOP! (What was that?) It was a "LOOP!" (What's that?) Just look at it, that's what it is. LOOP! See, there it goes again. (This makes no sense, and why are there no frisbees incorporated into this e-mail?) Llammas playing frisbee? Are you kidding? How would they hold it? With their mouths? That's disgusting.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac and Larry (Llarry)
You must journey to the fair city of Frisbee-La, high in the Himalayan Mountains. There you will meet Dong Shoku, a Master of the Frisbee. He will have a task for you. Once you have completed his task, he will give you a golden frisbee which you will bear back with you as proof of your exploits. Then? Then we shall see. Already you grow impatient. At even the mention of the outside world, the way of the frisbee is already abandoned. This will be hard task, indeed, and you will embrace the way of the frisbee or you will fail. I have done all I can, now you must go.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Come prepared to get wet.
Isaac
1. Find a word that nobody knows.
2. Regardless of the actual definition, make up your own definition of the word. New definitions are judged on believability, randomness, and how closely they relate to frisbee.
3. Here's the crucial part: Introduce this new word into your everyday conversations, using your own new meaning. Hopefully, other people will think that's the actual meaning of this obscure word and will then use it in their conversations.
Yes! We're actively undermining the english language. Isn't it wonderful?
You could possibly play the game with a word that people do know. In this case, your new definition would be an additional meaning of the word. Cause noone will believe that they've been using a word incorrectly their whole lives without double-checking it in the dictionary, and that is something we want to avoid at all costs.
Bwahaha! The english language is not defined in dictionaries anyway. It's defined in the way the people around you use it. The dictionary is just a meager attempt at quantifying what you hear all around you. But enough of that.
Let's do a few examples:
periphrastic - in a state of anxiously glancing about
Example: A person surrounded by opposing frisbeers might be periphrastic.
forgather - to announce or display intent for future aggression
This word has its roots in an old Gaelic tradition. Before a meal in which guests were present, the host would go to each guest and offer them a spoon. If the guest wished to skip the soup course and go straight to the meat dish, they would say "forke raether". As this was generally done when the individual, usually a man, was preparing for athletic competition or physical combat, the term came to mean what it does today.
Example: EJ forgathered by screaming "Tackle!" as he ran toward Jared.
Quite fun. Not all the definitions need to have etymologies, since the main goal is the perversion of the english language. And generally anyone interested in etymology is also going to care about looking it up. And those are not the kind of people we're targeting here. Actually, the etymology I made up is an example of a funny but bad etymology because it hurts the credibility of the definition.
Anyway, come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
With heart racing, you might pluck up the courage to make the first cut. But, how would you react when your knife meets the resistance of a porous, sinewy, squishy...almost spongy like material. Eeekk...wait it is a sponge. Would you defy the rising panic at the prospect of finding a whole pan of chocolate covered sponges? You feel the fever rising to find the chocolate delicacy you know must be hidden somewhere.
You keep madly sawing through the spongy milieu until your knife hits a new patch of...
something. The blade cuts far too easily through the icing into a slipperly, jiggly, almost green jello-like substance. Eww...wait it is green jello. Chocolate covered green jello. The panic is rising, where are the brownies!?
You start hacking away at all 117 square inches of the chocolately mess only to uncover more chuncks of bright yellow sponge and green jello. The pieces jeer up at you, flaunting the definite antithesis of yummy brownieness. In despiration, you plunge your hands into mess and fish frantically for that one chocolate square which would satisfy your craving.
But no. You come up green-jello-chunk-yellow-sponge-bit-chocolate-icing-smeared- handed. It was all a lie. There are no brownies...(pause of shocked silence). NOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!
Happy April Fools Day
Double April Fools! All of the preceding text was blatantly plagiarised. Not only is it an April Fools on you for thinking that I wrote this e-mail, but it's also an April Fools on the person I'm stealing this from. Either that or an act of inconsiderate exploitation. I always get those two confused.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
It seems so crowded today. So many people out and playing and living and soaking up the world. They must have emptied every nook and cranny, every little habitation has dumped its contents into the public space. And there's nothing blatantly wrong with that...
Last week, straggles of people scurried by, clamped down in their own abundantly bundled worlds. I walked the same places that today were full of life and people, and found an empty field. If there were people, they were but ghosts and shadows drifting swiftly by.
It makes me wonder if the people I see today are nothing but the ghosts of last week taking for a moment a solid form. At the first cold wind, they will lose their consistency and be swept away to whatever astral plane from which they hail.
Perhaps these ghouls will not last for long, but for the moment we should take advantage of this new incursion of fair-weather frisbeers.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run
There'll probably be puddles on the field from a thunderstorm earlier in the day. Possibly another "no fall, no score" game.
Isaac
PS This week's e-mail idea courtesy of Ben Rule. Blame him.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run
That's a definite outside.
And, to the amazement of all (or at least myself) I have finished updating the Frisbee-mail Archives. Feel free to peruse them at softpixel.com/~imann/frisbeearchives.html Also, if any of you have the one e-maill that Tom sent out, I'd like to add that to the archive too. And if you notice any others that I'm missing, feel free to send them to me.
Isaac
There you have it, folks. Incontrovertible evidence that if you go off on enough tangents, you'll get back on topic.
Come play frisbee with us this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Earlier today, Frisbetologists from the University of Hard Knocks released a report on the earliest stages of Frisbosis. They were endeavoring to pin down the early symptoms of this disease so as to enable physicians and psychiatrists the chance to combat it in its weakest form. Among the early warning signs that they discovered was an accute case of phobophobia, the fear of fear itself. In fact, they discovered startling evidence to indicate that the first and most well-known phobophobic FDR was actually an amateur Frisbeer. (Which is quite astonishing since it was believed that frisbees were not invented until a couple decades after his famous speech.)
The Frisbetologists, however, have hard evidence supporting this claim. In a never-aired news reel, FDR clearly says "Shnarf groshnee fraz borten goo." The lack of clarity is most likely due to the poor quality audio equipment and the aurora borealis effect. And Frisbetologists are in disagreement as to whether FDR is speaking in English or German. But all agree that _clearly_ "fraz borten" is a distorted version of "frisbee".
This shocking revelation could revolutionise the Frisbosis-combating community. If you or any of your friends are scared to watch scary movies or are afraid of being frightened, this reporter urges you strongly to get yourself checked out at the nearest Frisbosis prevention center. This disease is quite serious. But it is preventable, thanks to the hard work of dedicated Frisbetologists everywhere.
Frisbetologists and Frisbosis victims alike:
Isaac
"BANZAI!!!!"
What scene have I taken these sounds from?
1. A small army of midieval knights stands arrayed against a fierce ogre. Finally, one plucks up his courage and charges the beast, screaming. Only to be crushed with a single blow of the ogre's large club. After a little uneasy shuffling, the knights send out another champion...
2. Samurai warriors have traversed through a time portal and are engaged in a battle with European cannoneers. (Insert a *splatter* after each *THUD!*.)
3. I am standing opposite a particularly obstinate wall. It refuses to move despite my politest requests that it do so. Suddenly, my eyes light up with a maniacal gleam. I charge the stubborn barrier at full speed. ... Alternately rubbing my head and trying to catch the stars that are inexplicably dancing around me I retreat from the inflexible barricade. Hearing a muffled snicker from the direction of that cantankerous fortification, my eyes go mad again...
4. Jared is happily playing frisbee. He makes a sweet catch and then follows it up with a completed pass. He's thinking how good his life is and how after frisbee he'll --- WHAM!! Jared is not-so-happily lying on the ground. EJ is chuckling and running off. Jared gets up, dusts himself off and returns to happily playing frisbee...
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Ignoring slanderous artichokes (irate delicacies), rigatoni argues noxiously despite obstinate marmalade!
Come play ultimate frisbee this thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
PS. Did you catch the secret message?
Come play ultimate frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Excerpt from Title Track:
"And so you're back
What if mimes played frisbee?
There are quite a few problems that I can spot right away. There'd be some mimes that couldn't keep track of the pantomime frisbee and they'd be spontaneously generating more and more pantomime frisbees and putting them into play while other pantomime frisbees are forgotten on the ground where some hapless mime would pantomime tripping over them. There would also be some very ineffective mimes that could not move enough to play because of their pantomimed boxes they would be trapped in. No one would really know where the pantomimed goals were except for the last mime to pantomime moving them. Or the last mime to pantomime scoring with one of the myriad pantomimed frisbees.
Of course there could also be some really cool plays. A mime could climb a pantomimed ladder to catch a pantomimed frisbee that was way out of the reach of the non-ladder climbing mimes below. Also, the pantomimed frisbee could be pantomimed to disobey all ordinary laws of physics and suddenly turn into a giant mime-eating hamster (pantomimed, of course). Hmm. Maybe that's why we don't see many mime frisbee games.
Anyway, mime or no, come play Ultimate Frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Weather: 13 degrees, 30% chance of snow, 20 mph winds
(Thats a wind chill of -5 degrees. Sorry, Tom, I think we're playing inside this week.)
Isaac
It's all really complicated. I ended up going into the past and meeting my parents, only they weren't my parents yet. And afterwards but before now Doc gets killed twice and comes back from the dead twice and our best guess is that now he's in some kind of interdimensional state. Einstein, our dog, (who is way to small to play catch with a DeLorean Frisbee) is also on the MIA list, but we're fairly certain that he's still in 1880 where, er, when he ran off with a local bitch. But, anyway, after numerous harrowing experiences and several impossible ones, I'm back. Did you miss me?
Note: This is also why I'm sending out the frisbee e-mail late.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Ok, so here we are waiting for Thursday to come around, just like every other week. Trying to entertain ourselves until it's time for frisbee again. So I'm supposed to provide a little whiticism or half-whiticism to assist you in that endeavor. Alright, here it is. (I learned this this morning.) If you take the five complex fifth roots of unity and connect them you get alternately a perfect pentagon, a perfect star or a very imperfect representation of George Washington's face. Now, say we took that poor portrait of our first president and added a few globs of paint and a frame, then we'd have a very expensive piece of impressionistic art. Of course now that it's this great piece of art, we can't do a silly thing like selling it. No, instead, we take this wonderful thing and donate it to charity. And Charity, being the sensible girl she is, will hopefully know what to do with this strange contraption. Hmm, if my name was Charity would people give me things?
12:01 Frisbee e-mail horribly off track, time to start over. I am still not to be held responsible for the result.
12:03 Try again.
12:08 Frisbee e-mail has lost all redeeming value. Time to bail.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4pm at Mill Run
Isaac
12:10 Past time to go to class.
Then the next morning (or afternoon) you wake up. You look out at the world that was so fresh and beautiful the night before and find that someone (that jerk) has gone and messed up the new year. After conferring with some friends you conclude that they must have done this dastardly deed somewhere between ten and noon when everyone else was asleep. Jerk.
Some things never change. Someone always ruins the new year and, more importantly, frisbee goes on. We recommence frisbee this Thursday (tomorrow) at 4 pm at Mill Run. There is the possibility of inside play because I got a soft frisbee for Christmas. However, it might be snowing, which would be incentive to play outside. Come prepared.
Weather: 30 degrees, 40% chance of snow, 7 mph winds
Isaac
The partridge in the pear tree is the dark lord on his dark throne (in the land of mordor, etc...)
Some of these you won't understand unless you've read all the books, and some only make sense in my furry little mind.
So we are playing frisbee (or something) this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
So yeah, we are playing frisbee this week or ultimate football (since football is too inactive). Or we might just make up our own game. Using a frisbee and a football, two toothpicks and the guy who played MacGuyver. (If I spelled that right.)
P.S. If anyone can tell me what an answing is you'll get bonus points. Hint: You'll probably have to get out the really big dictionary.
Nope. I give. I guess frisbee is cancelled tomorrow. Fellowship Hall is apparently off limits, does anyone have other ideas for next week?
Note: You may or may not take literally the whole frisbee frozen to the hand incident.
Isaac
One wonders why they continue to riot every year. This reporter would chalk that up to the incredibly small size of the average turkey's brain. Every year riot police crack down and the majority of the rioters are apprehended. In related news, Plymouth Rock food pantry asks that you not donate turkey meat this year as they have received plenty of turkey from another source. Mmmm... pepper spray.
This is important! Frisbee is on Wednesday this week. Hear that? Wednesday. (As in the day before Thursday.)
Come play frisbee this Wednesday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
This could be the long-awaited frisbee in the snow game! Don't miss out!
Isaac
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
And yes we are playing regardless of the weather.
Isaac
The point is that I have a life outside of Frisbee, however bitter and despondent of a life that may be.
But enough of that.
Come play Frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
P.S. If you can tell me the 3 people I quoted in this e-mail, you'll win a special prize.
P.P.S. For those of you who care, I now have a new computer from which to run Frisbee Central.
When you change directions and the wind changes just so that you have to play against it. When throw after throw goes straight from your hand into the ground. All you can do is stand and watch as Jack McClintock skies over your head to block the frisbee you were supposed to catch. Every time you break away, a tuft of grass grabs at you or the ground shifts and you fall to the ground.
And then, finally, when through some perversity of fate, you find the frisbee actually within your grasp, some temporal anomaly or twisting of space manages to force the frisbee, not between, but actually through your hands. And you lose all muscle-control around your jaw, then your legs start to collapse and your eyes start to feel this pressure behind them. And as you're collapsed there staring alternately at your hands and the frisbee lying a few feet away, trying very hard to find the hole that must be there in one or the other.
Don't worry. We've been there. Some of us never left.
Play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
White Frisbee
I'm dreaming of a white frisbee
Merry Christmas!
This Thursday at 4pm at Mill Run, we will play Ultimate Frisbee. Pray for snow.
Isaac
An awkwardly halting voice speaks as a round, frisbee-shaped object passes overhead.
"Space, the frisbee frontier.
During the voice over and in the bold, tenacious, uplifting music that follows, the frisbee-shaped starship passes across the screen from various sides and in different angles. Then members of the crew are shown striking dashing poses.
Captain James T. Smirk: His strange speech impediment naturally landed him the role of captain and spokesperson for the entire crew.
Block: An inscrutable crew member who impassively denies any pass attempted within a 20.312 foot radius of himself.
The doctor: A fiery individual, known more for his sideline cheers than his medical expertise. "Ram him, Jim! I'm a doctor, not a sportsmanlike frisbeer."
After the crew are some scenes with frisbeers in red shirts being skewered, cut, shot, phased out, disemboweled, evaporated, disintegrated, reintegrated, redisintegrated, and generally used as cannon fodder by marauding alien frisbeers and mutant frisbees.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
The Frisbeer and I
The Sound of Frisbees
Les Frisbles
Frisbee-side Story
Isaac
P.S. Yes, I did consider writing about Tetelebee, but, in a rare instance of good judgment, decided to spare us all.
Do not attempt to adjust your TV set. You have just entered The Frisbee Zone. We are in control of the horizontal and we are in control of the vertical.
Come play frisbee Thursday at 4pm at Mill Run.
Also, consider the possibility of playing frisbee on the Otterbein College football field this Friday or Saturday. More info TBA.
Isaac
The WFF, World Frisbee Federation. Just imagine...
Well, Jim this has been a crazy night already. The Decapitator was absolutely humiliated by the Disemboweler.
Exciting, huh?
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
chicken hawk
What, you ask, does this have to do with frisbee? Well, my friend, very little. But this is where the wonderful powers of forced random association come into play. Here are three different ways the word chicken hawk relates to the game of Ultimate Frisbee. Observe:
1. What would you call an individual who in the prime of his life never played a drop of frisbee and even took pains to avoid the sport, and now, when they are too old and feeble to join in the merriments, exhorts others to play? What else but a chicken-beer?
2. What do you suppose the chickenhawks did while they're peers were off fighting wars? Well, they had to put their youthful energy to some use. You know what's coming, don't you? Of course, they played frisbee. What else would they do?
3. Chicken hawk, coincidentally enough, is also a strategic frisbee play. The play starts when one team member hunches over and points his elbows and proceeds to do his best chicken impression at the loudest volume that his lungs can handle. At this point the play proceeds along one of two options. If the opposing team is thoroughly confused by this strange person they've elected to play frisbee with and focuses all their attention on him, the frisbee is thrown to other members of the team and a touchdown is scored with minimal resistance. If, however, the opposing team immediately dismisses the individual as inane or insane or both, and attempts to resume play of the game, the frisbee will be thrown to the chicken hawk player. Just as the frisbee is being thrown to him, the star player will then convert into hawk mode and soar to snatch the frisbee with his razor sharp talons. This should be fairly easy for the player because his prior antics will most likely have caused the opposing team members to give deranged player plenty of space. Hehehe. Beautiful.
So anyway, come play frisbee Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
If a tree falls in the forest and lands on a frisbeer, does he still make the catch?
Dustin starts running from one end of the field going 7 m/s. Katie runs from the other end of the field going 9 m/s. The field is 90 yards long. The frisbee is thrown from Dustin's end of the field and its velocity is given by the equation v=13/t. Assuming the frisbee stays aloft indefinitely, will Dustin catch the frisbee, or will Katie knock it down before he gets to it? Or, as usually happens, will they both go crashing into each other and end up with Katie on the ground and Dustin missing the frisbee?
Ultimate frisbee, this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run
For bonus points calculate the wind into the above problem.
Isaac
With a wordless command, the green knights split into seemingly random directions. All except one, who pulls his steed to a halt and snatches from the air a glowing white disc, made to appear only a second before. Meanwhile, the red knights have not ceased the onward rush. Fanning out to match the others' maneuver, one large brutish fellow is left galloping toward the stationary green knight.
Just as a bone-shattering collision is reaching certainty the green knight releases the disc and it goes flying inerrantly to another green knight who just moments before had cut from his normal pattern and temporarily lost his matched opponent. Lost only temporarily, for before he can be rid of the flying white disc of magic, the full force of a red knight's mace knocks him headlong from the saddle. Quickly the victorious knight grabs the disc, which had paused motionless in the air while its former owner was violently unseated. The red knight does not pause for long, as three nearby green knights alter their course to overtake him...
Hmm... That might be fun.
Come play frisbee with us this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Whee! That is the sound of me making up a bunch of random nonsense that relates in no way whatsoever to frisbee.
Frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
We've got quite an interesting match up for your viewing entertainment today. The Dastardly Dashers are up against Redneck Ruffians and it looks the game is going to be just as intense as it always is between these two powerhouses. Here's Chaz Masher with an up-close look at the match-up.
Thanks, Walter. Well, the Dastardly Dashers have been through quite a few ups and downs this season. They started off with a miraculously crushing defeat of the top ranked Flying Discmen but then came a disappointing strike of losses that has left this desperately grasping for the confidence they once had.
Redneck Ruffians have been fairly well living up to their 17th rank in the eastern NFL conference, but there are concerns for this weeks game due to the fact that their star player, G. Reese Lightning, has missed three days of practice this week due to a sprained left ear lobe.
Both of these teams have plenty of reasons to give it there all on the field today. Expect plenty of turnovers and faced-paced frisbee action.
Frisbee this Thursday, 4 pm at Mill Run
Isaac
P.S. Angie, was this better? I tried to type slower so you could catch it all.
The oft villainized dentist attempts through prod and poke to successfully pass from one tooth to another the pokey-plaque-remover-whatever-you-call-it-thing (or PPRWYCIT) until finally scoring in the end zone of the far back molars. Just as in frisbee, the dentist is not unopposed. Yes, that hulking brute, the tongue never ceases in its own salivating way to arrest the PPRWYCIT's scrubbing motions. The thick mouth-encompassing tongue manages to block and hamper and impede the progress of our notable hero. Until, finally, the dentist has had enough. No more is he merely attempting to traverse the cavernous mouth; that insidious has crossed one too many times. Bushy eyebrows arched in a bad-guy-ish sort of way, the dentist aims a sharp, pointed, devastating blow straight for the slimy heart of that meddling tongue. With a loud evil laugh, he strikes!
Pain is also a common bond between the dentist's chair and the frisbeer's field.
Come play frisbee. Thrusday at 4pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
Here's some info that will help your game:
1) A frisbee in motion will stay in motion. . . until Isaac slaps it away.
Frisbee Lives On!
Dustin
"Where did he come from? I've never seen a walker move that fast!"
"Is that George cherry-picking again?"
"Oh, sure, you've got a powered wheelchair, but at least I still have control of my bowels!"
"Larry, are you ever going to throw? We're not getting any younger you know. Larry? Larry? Aw, Larry's kicked it, now it's just three on four."
"Now, listen here boy, back when I's a kid, we played frisbee with boulders. Yep, that's right, huge granite boulders. In the snow! Four miles, uphill both ways!"
"Tell those dang nurses to get off the field and stop messing with your heart monitor! We're in the middle of a game here!"
"For the last time, Henry, you can not have your grandson throw for you. I don't care how bad your arthritis is."
"Wait, what? What's going on? Eh? What team am I on?"
Come play frisbee with us. Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Isaac
This man had a very curious condition. Every morning he would walk into the village from his cabin in the woods and he would call for the children of the village. Whether through a mysterious enchantment or by some unknown guile or charm, all the children would come running and gather round this tall, lanky fellow. Then, oblivious to the many disapproving glares of the village mothers, he would take his gaggle of children and gallivant off to a field nestled in the trees. There is where the real fun began. The man would produce, from where no one was quite sure, a flat round disc, not unlike the modern day frisbee. And they would play, the children and he, until the sun began to grow tired from just watching and it sank beyond the western edge of the world. Then the man would take the whole lot of worn-out children back to their village to rest for the next day's games. And the lanky hermit, himself, would trudge off to his lonely abode in the woods.
Now, it is a very unwise thing to venture into the woods after dark, unless, like the hermit, you know the way extremely well and have virtually no possibility of getting lost. The mothers of the village did not shirk in telling their children this, but never-the-less, sometimes a child who had not quite had his fill of frisbee for the day would sneak off into the woods to see if the hermit still played in the field in the woods. This, perhaps, is how the legend began.
On certain nights, when the moon was full, the adventurous children would see a sight that brought chills to their spines. No one knows how much was a trick of the moons false light and how much was bedevilment, but this is what the children would tell of.
They saw a man, but not quite a man. He was very tall and extremely muscular, with hair growing profusely from every part of his body. And in that field he would play with that very same disc that the lanky old hermit so favored. But the shock was not that such a monster would play a mere child's game, but in the way he would play. Taking his disc he would launch it upwards far into the sky and then dashing at inhuman speeds, he would jump 10, 15, even 20 feet into the air and come down grasping the disc. The legend would end there if it were not for a curious thing that would happen to those very same children who were the witnesses of this horrific sight. Every night there after, when the moon was full, they would not be found in their beds. And those few brave souls who still sought the field in the woods, told tales of more and more ghastly monsters playing the most intense game of frisbee they could imagine.
Many people dismiss this legend as an old wives tale, merely ignorant superstition. And I am inclined to agree with them. Except perhaps on certain nights when the moon is full and the madness has taken control.
Come play frisbee with us this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
If you are some what uncertain of your skills, or just want to warm up before the game come at 3:50 and I'll be there to teach technique or just to throw around with.
Isaac
After several effortless touchdowns on their part, you start to get really mad. It's time to turn it up a notch. What's that? Oh, I need to tie my shoe... Nonchalantly, you step off to the side of the field and bend down intent on your shoe. Your team, as usual, wastes no time in giving the frisbee to the other team and the action starts heading back your direction. But what's this? The other team has three cherry-pickers already waiting in their end-zone! Of all the low down tricks to pull. It looks like the other team is just an easy toss away from another point. Your entire team is on the opposite side of the field so there is no one to guard the accursed cherry-pickers. No one, except for you! The other team, also unaware of your shoe-tying presence, launches the frisbee downfield for their presumed easy point. Just as the frisbee leaves the throwers hand, you're off like a shot. You can read the horror etched in the throwers' face as he realizes the grave miscalculation he has just made. This is far from the easy point he had envisioned; there is suddenly a defender stalking the end-zone, a monster of frisbee prowess. This will show them to put you on the bad team.
The frisbee is sailing toward the end-zone. There is plenty of time for you to take the few steps necessary to block it. But something seems to be holding your feet to the ground. They're heavy as lead blocks. The blood begins to drain from your face as you see the frisbee rushing closer. No! Not in my moment of triumph! The mocking faces of your tormentors from the other team dance before your eyes, then the shocked and disappointed looks of your teammates. You must get to the frisbee! There's still time! Here it comes. Why can't I move? Let me go! Let me go!
AAAAAAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!
You sit up screaming in your bed. Your clothes are drenched in sweat. It's 1 AM. The bed sheets are in hopeless disarray and the frisbee you normally sleep with has fallen to the floor. With chagrin, you realize that it was all only a dream. Frisbee is not until tomorrow. Smiling to yourself, you rearrange the sheets and snuggle back into bed with your favorite frisbee nestled by your side.
Anyway, for the frisbee game scheduled this Thursday at 4 PM at Mill Run, the weather is as follows:
85 degrees, 40% chance of rain, 6 mph winds
Advisory: Bring water. Or pray for rain.
Isaac
From 4 to 5 for the rest of this week, we'll be out in the field at Mill Run. Feel free to join us and bring your friends.
Note: This time was specifically selected to be in between sessions when the maximum number of people will be ready for a break. The last session ends at 3:30 and frisbee will be over at 5:00 sharp so that individuals will have time to get dinner before the 6:00 session starts.
Hope to see you there,
Isaac
PS It might still be possible to play frisbee even if you lose a limb; it very much depends on the appendage lost. So your only real excuse is the hurricane bit.
Oh, I have to pack and go now before his relatives find me.
Frisbee on Thursday at 4 at Mill Run Weather Outlook:
Isaac
There comes a point in every frisbeers life when you stop and wonder - was it all worth it? Has all this time spent frisbeeing accomplished anything? Will I be remembered by future generations as a fine frisbeer? It's at this point that a frisbeer must remember why they became a frisbeer in the first place. Return to the flashpoint of your frisbee life, as it were. You must remember the thrill of the diving catch, the utter satisfaction of a frisbee properly smacked to the ground, remember, in short, that driving force that moves all frisbeers - the moment. Yes, it is the moment that makes a frisbeer into a frisbeer. It is the moment that compels, the moment that inspires. The moment of decision before that decisive leap, the momentary gleam in the eyes of a defender before the block.
So when you come to such a point when you begin to question the very nature of your frisbeeness, remember the moment. Not that glorious moment of long ago when you made your big play, but this moment. The moment right now when the frisbee is most likely hurtling straight for your face. Wake up already!
Weather for Thursday at 4 at Mill Run: Isaac PS. For those of you deeply mired in the search for your inner frisbee, Tom will be holding special counseling sessions at pre-arranged times. Alternately see Ashley about yoga sessions.
...head.. hurting. Can't see straight. I can't seem to stop my hands from shaking. Aaahhh, it's inside my brain... ahh, can't stop, twitching. Must... No! I will resist! I must fight the temptation. I will... not... No! I can't. Must hold back, please! Stop torturing me! I've been clean for almost three days now. They say it gets easier after the first two weeks. The headaches aren't so bad and the voices in your head stop telling you to go play... to go.. play... uh... that word. Don't make me say it. I don't think I can hold back if I say it. They're telling me again. Stop it! Get out of my head! Shut up! Shut up! Stop shouting. I'm through! I've given up playing frisbee. Oh! I said it. I said frisbee... I mentioned the word frisbee, and you never know what that will do to me. Once I start thinking about frisbees spinning around and around and diving and catching and more glorious frisbees! Oooh, frisbee. Hehehe, AAAHAHAHA! Must play frisbee... must play ... frriiiissssbeeee.....
Ah, that felt wonderful. Since I need my weekly frisbee fix, I want to try to get a game going on Saturday at 12 at Mill Run. Forecast: 72 degrees, no rain, minimal wind
...and the craven beast lurches wildly back into the dark stretches... ...must play...must...
Isaac
PS. If anyone has a potion for the suppression of multiple personalities, I would most appreciate it. Just be careful about which personality is in control when you give it to me. Possibly bad consequences may result.
"You've been a fine bunch of frisbeers. This has been by far the best unit I've ever worked with. You've stuck it out in the hard times and done above and beyond in the good times. We've been through some crazy missions together, and you've always executed my orders to perfection. But you are stronger now; you're learning to rely on each other more and less on me. I've been waiting a long time for this moment, and I think it's finally come. I will not be accompanying you on this next mission. I am fully confident that you are ready for this next step and I am certain that you will continue to make us proud. God speed. Dismissed."
i.e. I can't make it to frisbee this week because I'm doing a robot competition at the same time. But frisbee must go on with or without me.
For Thursday at 4 at Mill Run: 80 degrees, no rain earlier in the day, 50% chance at 4 Now some may balk at the notion of playing frisbee in the rain. There are many that will fall away on account of a little electrical storm or a mild hurricane; but you, the loyal few - the finest of the frisbeers - you must not let them sway you. When the faint of heart tremble and turn aside, when the wimpy allow a bruised elbow or a scraped knee or a shattered jawbone to prevent them from their weekly game, indeed, when the whole world hides locked inside its doors, then, as finest frisbeers, it is your duty - nay, your privilege - to frisbee when so many would not. This is your burden; this is your joy. Free the frisbee within.
Isaac
PS. I couldn't resist adding a little cheese on the end of that heart-warming call to frisbeeness. All blame for excess cheese should be sent to the Utah Olympic people for their wonderful slogan, "Find the Fire Within" (or something like that)
Curiouser and curiouser. The world seems to be tilting strangely off balance. Nothing is where it seems, everything is off center. What is happening? Frisbee on a Monday! You fools! Do you dare to trifle with the order of things? Nothing good can come of this. If man were meant to play frisbee on Mondays, he would have been given the day off from school!
Oh... wait. There isn't any school on Monday. Here's the plan:
Frisbee. Monday at 1 pm. At Mill Run. 73 degrees. Mostly sunny. Sit. Stay. Good boy.
Isaac
Some people enjoy frisbee for purely philosophical reasons. They see frisbee as one of the higher art forms, and noble in its own right. I, on the other hand, seek the joys of frisbee as a release from the bondage that is reality. When your mind and body are both solely focused on one round spinning object, the rest of reality has no leverage to torment you with. Your mind is too concerned with the mechanical manipulations required in a game of frisbee to envision, for instance, a certain robot bursting into flames. And then that same robot being repeatedly thrown, smashed with a baseball bat, stepped on, kicked, battered, and exorcised until not a trace of that hell-spawn remains on this earth.
Ahem, on a lighter note: Frisbee this Thursday at 4 at Mill Run is looking like it's going to be beautiful. 73 degrees, 13 mph wind, no rain in sight.
Isaac
PS. My apologies to anyone expecting the usual frisbee banter. The plan was to discuss the stimulative properties of a little frisbee first thing in the morning. I, however, was not in the proper state of mind to discuss the matter with any sort of depth.
Over the vast urban jungle of Columbus, all is still, expectant; listening for one sound. The sound that is the harbinger of doom and the herald of joy. Listen closely. In the distance, slowly building... doom-ba-da doom-bah-da-da. The drums! They are speaking!
FRISBEE MONSTERS ON LOOSE
Hmm... that was decidedly, uh, interesting. Anyway, for frisbee at 4pm Thursday at Mill Run, the ancient swahili (or is it swahilian?) frisbee gods have this to say:
Afternoon thunderstorms, 15 mph wind, 70 degrees
It should start to thunderstorm right around when we start to play frisbee.
Isaac
PS. I have been informed that Andrew Borden is quite familiar with the ancient swahilian dance to the frisbee gods, and he will, once prompted, give a live demonstration.
PPS. Swahilian reminds me of pineapple and guys in green tunics waving swords around. If you can find the two different connections, you'll win 20 Random points. (redeemable at any authorized Random location)
Hello, everyone and thank you for tuning into NFC, the National Frisbee Channel. That's right! All frisbee, all the time! This particular edition is dedicated to EJ and all of you crazy slip-n-sliders who vigorously pursue the art of the diving catch in the most extreme of conditions. This weeks forecast is as follows: (For Thursday at 4 at Mill Run)
Rain. Puddles. Wet. 70 degrees. Some wind.
This basically means a repeat of the sunday a few weeks ago when the frisbee faithful had a rockin awesome time sliding around, except a little warmer this time. There is a very good likelihood that the "No Fall - No Score" rule will be implemented.
Recommendations: Bring a change of clothes and a towel. Play barefoot or wear shoes that you don't mind getting wet. Don't spit into the wind. Never try to beat a wookie at chess. This is Isaac, signing off. Coming up next on NFC is a special frisbee edition of the popular movie, Braveheart. And later this evening, don't miss Frisbees on Ice.
This just in!
We have a weather update for those of you who care (and not, may I add, for those of you who do not). Wind is now forecasted to be 12 mph instead of the previously stated 15mph. And the rain is supposed to stop around 9 in the morning. For those of you that are still worried about the possibility of wetness, scuba suits may be available on demand.
So, if you're planning on doing some National Day of Prayer thing at 7, it wouldn't be a bad idea to bring a change of clothes. Or if you're not ashamed of being a frisbeer you can go as your natural muddy self.
Anyway, since the rain is stopping earlier, there is less likelihood of extreme wetness. But consider yourself warned. We now return you to "When People Attack Dogs for Mangling Their Frisbee".
Isaac
PS. All scuba gear petitions should be made to our underwater specialist, EJ.
Good afternoon ladies and gentleman, and welcome to another edition of the Frisbee Weather Show. On today's show we'll have a look at the distinct flying properties of a frisbee in sub-arctic temperatures, but first, a look at tomorrow's frisbee weather.
For tomorrow's game at 4 at Mill Run, the weather is as follows:
57 degrees and cloudy with 15 mph winds.
Notice that the winds last week were 20-something mph. These winds should be significantly less. Also, something to note is that rain is forecasted for all of tonight until the exact moment when we start frisbeeing tomorrow. (Seriously, weather.com's hour by hour forcast has rain from 7 tonight until 3 pm tomorrow, but it stops at 4.) Come prepared for puddles and/or possible rainfall (if the rain doesn't leave on cue).
Hope to see you all there!
Isaac
PS. For analysis of
sub-arctic frisbee properties, talk to my (unwitting) co-anchor Dustin.
Hello frisbeers!
So, frisbeers, Thursday at Mill Run, 4pm.
We'll try to start as close to 4 as possible, because baseball people come at 5 and we want to get in a full hour of playing before they come. (So aim for 3:55...)
Isaac
PS. For those potential frisbeers that have recently been added to our list, if you don't want to get random e-mails extolling the virtues of the flying disc, just let me know.
PPS. Frisbeers is a fun word. That makes 5 uses in one e-mail. Try to incorporate this word as much as possible into all your conversations this week.
Isaac
PS Same place (Mill Run), and bring your own poem on the joys of frisbee, we can have a mutual affirmation time afterwards.
Frisbee, Thursday (tomorrow) @ 4:00 @ Mill Run
We'll probably play for about an hour to an hour and a half, or until we're tired. Water bottle recommended.
See ya,
Sergee3: what's this about frisbee in subarctic temps?
Who wrote that last e-mail? There must have been at least 6 missing or misspelled words in there. I'm sorry, I must have been tired.
And if you can find all 6 blatant mistakes and one other mistake you'll get
a special prize. (Scroll down for answers.)
1. against _the_ Redneck Ruffians
And the one biggest mistake of all was including that note to Angie in such
a poorly written e-mail. Don't I feel dumb.
Thursday Weather: 74 degrees, no rain, 10 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 71 degrees, 10% rain chance, 9 mph winds
9/10/03 - Tron Is Cool
VOICE
SARK!
Sark turns, curious, eyes widen incredulously..
We SEE Tron standing, legs spread, arms poised by his sides, disk in
one hand. It gives off a pure white light.
SARK
I don't know how you survived,
slave. It doesn't matter. Prepare to
terminate.
Sark flings his disk with a violent jerk of his wrist.
As the disk races at Tron. He dodges, drops to one knee and ducks
under it. Sark's disk circles like a homing missile and attacks
again. Tron deflects the second attack with his own disk, and the
two meet with an explosion of light. Sark's disk ricochets off and
races away, back to Sark. We see Tron throw his own weapon.
...
Sark's face.
SARK
You are very persistent, Tron.
Tron's disk circles Sark, attacking twice. Sark deflects it and
immediately throws his own disk.
Shot of two weapons racing almost side by side through the air.
Shot of Tron as the two disks come at him.
TRON
I'm also better than you....
He leaps into the air, grabs his own disk, pulling his legs up as
Sark's disk passes under him.
Shot of Sark's Disk making a sharp turn in the air.
Tron looks over his shoulder, sees the disk coming at him.
We see Tron's hand, as he slams his own disk into Sark's, using his as a shield.
SARK
Very clever, Tron. You know you
should have joined me.
Tron hurls again.
...
Sark catches his own disk, spots Tron's coming at him right behind,
and holds up his own disk as a shield.
SARK
We would have made a great team.
Tron's disk turning sideways in its flight, edge on.
With a CRASH and explosion of light, Tron's disk cuts right through
Sark's disk, and on through Sark's head. The disk shatters, and we
see Sark's surprised face, hands still in position to hold the
disk... a jagged open slash right through his forehead. We can see
energy pouring out of this wound like blood.
Sark falls, dead, face first.
Thursday Weather: 76 degrees, no rain, 8 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 70 degrees, 10% rain chance, 7 mph winds
9/3/03 - God Bless Auto-Save
Ever since the big power outage, things have been kind of quirky. There’ve been more black outs and brown outs than usual, people have been getting more worms and viruses via e-mail, and worst of all, frisbee central isn’t sending or receiving mail. (So I’m writing this from the computer 3 feet to the left. You might ask why it took me a day and a half to move 3 feet. I might tell you to mind your own business.)
Thursday Weather: 75 degrees, 20% rain chance, 12 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 60 degrees, 10% rain chance, 3 mph winds
8/26/03 - We Did It
Well, we did it. And I've had a little time to think back on what all went into this colossal feat.
Thursday Weather: 85 degrees, 20% rain chance, 9 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 75 degrees, 10% rain chance, 8 mph winds
8/19/03 - The Hour
The hour draws near!
Weather: 89 degrees, 10% rain chance, 11 mph winds
Friday Weather: 81/61 degrees, 30% rain chance, 8 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 77/59 degrees, 20% rain chance, 10 mph winds
8/14/03 - Frisbee System Analysis
System analysis: Isaac and E.J. Mann - Surfing. Dustin and Jared Heveron - Surfing
8/5/03 - The Frisbee Digest
August 22. It is coming. We must prepare for the 24 hour Frisbee Fest. Train your friends, foes, and small fleet strangers for the cause. Follow these frisbee training tips wisely and be ready…the time of testing will come!
7/30/03 - And you thought frisbee could get old...
Frisbee-mail courtesy of Brittany Allen. Enjoy!
7/23/03 - Lauren Comer is the Devil
This e-mail courtesy of Dustin Heveron:
Thursday Weather: 78 degrees, 10% rain chance, 7 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 70 degrees, 20% rain chance, 6 mph winds
7/15/03 - Wanted: One Theme Song
Wanted: One Theme Song
But you don't know the words
And that's how we planned it
a three hour tour, a three hour tour
but because of this theme song
you'll think he's really cool
a three hour tour, a three hour tour
Thursday Weather: 81 degrees, no rain, 5 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 70 degrees, 10% rain chance, 7 mph winds, sunset at 9
7/10/03 - Inquiring Minds Want to Know...
Well ladies and gentlemen, it's mid-July, and it seems that for the
second time this summer we find ourselves without our favorite pair of
prematurely bald frisbee denizens, Isaac and EJ Mann. So this poses the
question: can Ultimate Frisbee be played sans Manns? Well, curious of
the answer to that very question, I spoke to Isaac Mann himself. Our
interview went as follows:
Thursday, 4pm
Weather: 78 degrees, 40% chance of rain, 11 mph winds
7/2/03 - What the Devil?
I was thinking of writing an e-mail entitled either The Joys of Key Camp or Lauren Comer Is the Devil. But I'm tired. So I'll steal someone else's work.
Who decided, one day, he would marry,
We could find him no bride,
No matter how hard we tried,
All the gals thought Llary too hairy!
Weather: 86 degrees, no rain, 7 mph winds
Weather: 85 degrees, 30% rain chance, 10 mph winds
6/25/03 - PE Class
This week's e-mail courtesy of Lynn Bynum. Along with Jared's e-mail of last week, this may be the beginning of a guest writer series. We'll see.
6/17/03 - Frisbee WITHOUT The Mann's?!?!?!
Well folks, it's happened. Isaac Mann and his brother EJ have been
caught in the middle of a freak head-shaving accident and are on their
way to a rehab center in Myrtle Beach. Don't worry, their heads are
still attached to their bodies and are in one piece. However, it's been
reported that the recovery process is a slow one. "They have trouble
letting go of the game" said Dr. Rosenrose in reference to the
glow-in-the-dark frisbees serving as both night-lights and their only
source of entertainment. As bad as this news is, I believe it's in the
best interest of everyone if we continue our own skull crackin
lifestyles with a game of frisbee this saturday at 2. Sadly, we can't
have our usual thursday game due to V.B.S.
Sunny and 80 degrees, 10% chance of rain
6/11/03 - Helicopters?
"All units, come in. We've got a man down on east sixth. All units please respond. Repeat, man down on east sixth. All units please respond."
Thursday Weather: 72 degrees, 60% rain chance, 9 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 80 degrees, 30% rain chance, 8 mph winds
6/4/03 - Four Figures
Upon reaching the summit, you encounter four figures.
Thursday Weather: 65 degrees, 10% rain chance, 10 mph winds
Saturday Weather: 75 degrees, 20% rain chance, 8 mph winds
5/29/03 - Freddie and the Frisbee Factory
Freddie and the Frisbee Factory
Weather: 67 degrees, 30% rain chance, 10 mph winds
Weather: 68 degrees, 40% rain chance, 10 mph winds
5/22/03 - Well?
...
Weather: 66 degrees, no rain, 10 mph winds
Weather: 57 degrees, 20% rain chance, 5 mph winds
5/14/03 - Exer-Bee (tm)
It's the amazing Exer-Bee (tm) ! This incredible contraption has been sweeping the fitness world by storm!
Weather: 64 degrees, 50% rain chance, 6 mph winds
Weather: 68 degrees, 20% rain chance, 11 mph winds
5/6/03 - A Tale of Two Frisbees
Welcome once again to Frisbees in Great Literature. My name is Sir Waltham Charles, and I'll be your guide tonight through the world of finest frisbeers and foolish frollickers.
Weather: 67 degrees, 20% rain chance, 9 mph winds
4/29/03 - Frisbee in Political Systems
I have endeavoured to explain what a game of frisbee would look like under various political systems. Some require various individuals to carry small firearms.
Weather: 77 degrees, 40% chance of thunder storms, 18 mph winds
4/22/03 - Llamas Are Very Funny
I have been instructed to make this week's frisbee-mail "really funny". I have also learned through comprehensive surveying that llamas are "very funny". So, here we go...
Weather: 65 degrees, no rain, 6 mph winds
4/15/03 - Go, Frisbee-Son
You have learned all that I can now teach you, young one. The time has come. You must leave the sheltering walls of the monastery and embark on a journey. In your daily exercises, you have seen that the way of the frisbee is not an easy path to follow. And yet you have prevailed. You will find that it is a still more arduous path in the outside world. Remember what you have learned here. And perhaps you will once again prevail.
Weather: 67 degrees, 40% rain chance, 14 mph winds
4/8/03 - Frisbee Word Disassociation
It's time for a fun little game I like to call "Frisbee Word Disassociation." Here's how it works:
Weather: 52 degrees, 10% rain chance, 15 mph winds
4/2/03 - Plagiarism
What would you do if you saw a pan of delicious, dark chocolate iced, and cleanly covered brownies sitting under your car? Would the sudden craving for chocolate possess you to take the plastic knife lying inside the baggie on top and follow the clever label telling you: "Cut the brownies" Would you dare venture into the unknown and start slicing out a scrumptious square to taste?
Weather: 79 degrees, 10% rain chance, 14 mph winds
3/18/03 - Ephemeral
I took a walk.
Weather: 59 degrees, 20% chance of rain, 12 mph winds
3/11/03 - The Ball
Do you see this? Do you see it? This is the enemy! This is the ball! The bane of all that is frisbee! The ball is inferior in every aspect. It can achieve neither the hangtime nor the distance of the frisbee. It is the nemesis of all that is good and spinning in the world. The world itself is more akin to a frisbee than a ball, since it is in its nature a spinning object more than a round one. Some may claim that the ball has various advantages over the frisbee; do not be fooled! Lies and crafty deceptions! It is said that a ball is easier to catch than a frisbee - foolishness! It is far easier to pull off an extended one-handed frisbee catch than an extended one-handed ball catch. Even in its very strength, the ball is inferior to the frisbee. The bounciness of the ball is its one redeeming attribute, but even here the frisbee does better. A properly skipped frisbee can bounce longer and higher for less effort than the equivalent ball. Do not be mislead by certain frisbigots, the frisbee is and always will be a superior gaming tool than the accursed ball. The ball will fall! Down with the ball! The frisbee hovers on!
Weather: 49 degrees, 10% chance of rain, 15 mph winds
3/5/03 - Snapshot
Geese waddle about, disturbed from their usual haunts by strange visitors. They honk at each other and wait for the visitors to leave. An orange cone lies tipped on its side and nearby a long patch of earth has been reduced to mud. Further on a figure lies on the wet, spongy ground, arms splaid out in front, looking forlornly up. As we move along, we encounter another figure standing a little off balance, arms up shielding face and body. Within inches of this figure is another figure. This one is in mid-jump, toes pointed, head looking upward. The entire body is tensed and strained up into the upper tips of fingers. Reaching, just a little more. A mere two inches from the outstretched grasp, is a white frisbee. It hovers there, unresponsive to the many eyes, the yearnings and graspings of everyone focused upon it. It hovers, and forces them to wait.
Weather: 38 degrees, no rain, 5 mph winds
2/26/03 - Tangential
Before you read any further, I must apologize for the tangential nature of this e-mail. I was just sitting down to write it up when I was struck by the fact that the chair I was sitting on squeaked every time I leaned back on it. Squeaking, by the way, is what mice do. Except for Mighty Mouse who projects in a nice deep sing-songy sort of voice "Here I come to save the day!" I used to watch Mighty Mouse when we lived in California for a year. Which, incidentally, is where my sister is going to go to graduate school for the Navy. The Navy, as we all know, has lots of big guns on ships. Big guns make exciting explosions, just like in Lethal Weapon (pick any number). When Danny Glover cracks his neck, all the bad guys better watch out because he'll hit dead on every time. And Mel Gibson makes the coolest crazy guy. And to define true madness, what is't but to be nothing else but mad? Mel played the crazy guy in that play too, because he's good at it. Queen sings about being Stone cold crazy, you know. Which is appropriate since it is cold outside and there are stones on the frisbee field and we're just crazy enough to play frisbee anyway.
Weather: 31 degrees, 20% chance of rain/snow, 9 mph winds
We're playing outside. Tough.
2/19/03 - Phobophobia and Frisbosis
Frisbetologists Link Phobophobia to Early Stages of Frisbosis
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Weather: 38 degrees, no rain, 6 mph winds
We'll be playing outside, but it will probably be very wet. Come prepared.
2/12/03 - BANZAI!!!
"BANZAI!!!!"
*run, run, run, run*
*THUD!*
"Ow..."
*scruffle, scruffle*
*run, run, run, run*
*THUD!*
"Ow..."
Weather: 28 degrees, 10% chance of snow, 12 mph winds
I'm not sure if we'll play outside or inside. This is right on the borderline. And there are certain walls that need punishment inside...
2/4/03 - Marmalade?
Brisquely re-writing incoherrent typographical transmissions and negating yawns, I scan cautiously over other less enigmatic responsibilities. Today holds almost numberless jobs; all require expeditious deliberation. Fortunately, really important subjects boast especially essential recognition under less exacerbating stresses.
Weather: 27 degrees, 30% chance of snow, 5 mph winds
I'll have to be feeling especially pansy-prone come Thursday for anyone to convince me to play inside. Come prepared to brave the elements.
1/29/03 - Wha?
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Weather: 30 degrees, no rain, 4 mph winds
There is a very good chance that we'll play outside. Come prepared.
1/21/03 - Killer Mimes
Title: Revenge of the Killer Mimes that Returned from Outer Space
From outer space
I just walked in to find you
Here with that white gook upon your face"
1/15/03 - Back to the Frisbee
So, the other day I happened to run into this old guy that I call Doc (no one really cares about his real name). He called me over and said he had something exciting he wanted to show me. We go over and he opens his garage door and all I can say is, "You built a frisbee out of a DeLorean?" To which he says, "The way I see it, if you're gonna build a frisbee out of a car, why not do it with some style?" Well I'm still trying to figure this out when members of the Libyan Frisbee Team start shooting all over the place and I have to use the DeLorean Frisbee to go back in time.
Weather: 22 degrees, 30% chance of snow, 4 mph winds.
Note on inside or outside play: We will play where the people who show up want to play. My vote counts twice (or however many times it is necessary to count it.) Scratch that, we will play wherever people can convince me to play.
1/8/03 - Crunch Time
Alright, it's crunch time. 11:49 Time to start writing frisbee e-mail. Typing will commence now. I am not to be held responsible for the result.
I have a key with a chip in it. Wait, that's been done before.
Alright, so I've got (reportedly) the world's smallest remote control car in my possession. What if we found the world's smallest remote control car driver to put in the thing. And then we built the world's smallest racing track for him to drive on. (Well, assuming that the world's smallest remote control car driver is male. And why shouldn't he be?) And perhaps there's the world's smallest tree next to the world's smallest racing track and the world's smallest remote control car slipped on the world's smallest oil slick and did the world's smallest spin-out into that world's smallest tree by the world's smallest racing track. Boy, that'd be something.
Weather: 35 degrees, 30% chance of rain, 14 mph winds
(Perhaps we'll play inside. Perhaps not.)
1/1/03 - That Jerk
A new year, a fresh start. New Year's Eve is a wonderful holiday. When the ball finishes its drop and everyone cheers, the whole world seems fresh and new - sparkling after a sudden rain shower.
12/18/02 - Twelve Rings of Mordor
Some of you may have gotten an e-mail from Dustin claiming that the Twelve Days of Christmas song actually was a way for kids to remember their catechism. Well that's completely off. The song is really about the Lord of the Rings. (Actually it was originally called the Twelve Rings of Mordor, but that didn't sound very Christmassy.)
Two turtle doves are for Glorfindel and Erkenbrand, two characters that get the shaft in the movies. (or optionally for two coneys.)
Three french hens are the Three Hunters. (Gimli, Aragorn, and Legolas)
Four calling birds are the hobbits involved in the 'conspiracy' (including Fatty Bolger)
Five golden rings: half the number of nazgul, rounded up.
Six geese a-laying: half the number of dwarves in the Hobbit, rounded down.
Seven swans a-swimming are dwarven rings (Four dragons burned, three are lost)
Eight maids a-milking are just, well, eight maids.
Nine ladies dancing: nine fingers
Ten lords a-leaping: ten fingers
Eleven pipers piping: Bilbo's eleventy-first birthday
Twelve drummers drumming symbolize the twelve rings that are left. 1+ 3 elven + 7 dwarven + 9 men - 4 dwarven rings lost to dragonfire - 3 dwarven rings just lost - 1 lost through other means = 12.
Weather: 53 degrees, 30% chance of rain, 15 mph winds
(Nice and warm and it'll have been raining all day so dress accordingly.)
12/11/02 - An Answing
Sorry about last week. I was feeling pretty blisted and I'm sorry if I acted like a winge. I assure you it was an unical occurence and it has been thoroughly marised from the records. Now on to more vacal matters, I've been having difficulties with a few of my more punctilious unks. Now, far be it from my entrenched transactional self to take a duvet day, but I was just feeling too impuncondersial to play. There are certain hominists out there, and you know who you are, who feel that perhaps a fountalant game of football is in order. So I figured, in a belated attempt to circumvent innovicide, I would place a subvertisement in this week's rather stricirceptual frisbee e-mail. Enough obfuscation. Once you've masticated on that for a while, you'll be all in a ricapaul. Hehe.
Weather: 41 degrees, 10% chance of rain, 7 mph winds
12/4/02 - Cold Spell
For many weeks now there have been those certain frisbeers who have been complaining. "It's too cold. My ears are numb. I can't feel my nose. My fingers just shattered Terminator 2 style." I paid them no heed. A true frisbeer must persevere even when the weaker minded lose their fingers to frostbite. Last week, however, I had quite a disturbing experience. When I went to throw a long pass to Dustin in the end zone, the frisbee didn't go anywhere. I looked down and frisbee was actually frozen to my hand! After I had pried it off, I had to use a blow drier to get the frozen pieces of frisbee off my hand. Needless to say this deeply disturbed me. What was I going to do with a frisbee that had left frozen chunks of itself on my hand? So I figured this cold spell (that some might call winter) was now a worthy adversary and I plotted to get the best of it. Into my circle of conspirators I endeavored to enlist one father of mine. Perhaps with the vast resources of a pastor (namely Fellowship Hall) we might conquer this indomitable foe. But, no! He withdrew his support at the critical moment, devastating the entire plan. And now, as deserters flee left and right, my own brother among them, I am faced with a supreme test frisbeer character. Shall I go on despite vast forces arrayed against me? Shall I endure this hardship as a true frisbeer and face the freezing wind, alone if I must?
11/25/02 - Turkey Riots
Here we are live at Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts, where, predictably enough, the turkeys have decided to riot once again. Behind me you are watching footage of a car being tipped over by wild turkeys. Throughout the day there have been numerous dumpster and sofa fires along with beer cans strewn across every flat surface and shattered glass everywhere. While the yearly riots are nominally a protest of the upcoming Thanksgiving holiday, said one rather inebbriated Tom, "Gobble-gobble gobble-gobble!" [Translated: I shwer wush burnding thinksh!] [[Translated: I am a moronic incompetent fool who has nothing better to do than to get drunk and destroy other people's property.]] Another, more comprehensible turkey had this to say. "Gobbledy-gob gobble-gobble-goo." [Translated: Yeah, it's just kind of a tradition. I think guys are more excited about destroying things than they are about protesting.]
Weather: 32 degrees, 30% chance of _snow_, 11 mph winds
11/19/02 - Sand Castles
On the way to classes every day I walk by the construction site of the new physics research building for OSU. So today I spent about half an hour between classes just watching them work. They pumped cement through this long pipe-crane mechanism into casts to make the walls and supports while an excavation crane was methodically digging a hole in another corner. What caught my eye, however, was one construction worker who was kneeling down in the dirt using a tape measure to measure the width of a hole that had been dug. And I had a mental picture of that construction worker, in his muddy long sleeve shirt, with his tools hanging from his belt and his hard hat placed side by side with a boy scrunching up his face in concentration as he puts the last finishing touches on a sand castle. Are these two that different? When their respective oceans wash away their work, who will have accomplished more? Perhaps that boy's concentration and hard work is preparing him for work in the larger world. Perhaps also the construction worker is being prepared for work in a still larger world.
To relate this to frisbee. Is ultimate frisbee any more childish than building a sand castle? Perhaps even this is a precursor - a model of things to come in another, larger world. Just perhaps.
Weather: 46 degrees, 60% chance of rain, 13 mph winds
11/13/02 - Besides Frisbee
It has come to my attention that there are some of you out there who think that I am completely and totally obsessed with Frisbee. Now this is not the case, there are many other things that take up my time and energy. I go for long walks in the park. I stargaze on occasion. I expostulate on a multiplicity of meta-narratives and the epistemologies they engender. Sometimes I even find myself doing schoolwork. I laugh. I cry. When you cut me, do I not bleed? I'm not a robot without emotions; I'm not what you see. Sometimes, when it all gets too much, I "sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops of the world."
Weather: 50 degrees, 10% rain chance, 15 mph winds
11/5/02 - Some Days
Some days are just bad.
Weather: 46 degrees, no rain, 10 mph winds
10/29/02 - Holiday Honorarium
In honor of the holiday that's almost upon us, where little children turn into monsters and older children, in an astonishing display of unchecked greed, visit all their neighbors and relatives expecting to receive a multitude of goodies - in honor of this holiday - the following song will be sung before this Thursday's frisbee game, courtesy of Tom Seipel.
Just like the ones I used to throw.
Where the church lights glisten,
And children listen
To hear "First!" yelled in the snow.
I'm dreaming of a white frisbee
With every frisbeer I sight
May your throws fly quickly and right.
And may all your frisbees be white.
Weather: 48 degrees, 10% chance of rain, 7 mph winds
10/22/02 - The Frisbee Frontier
Soft, lilting music.
Pan from an orange-red planet to countless stars on an endless black.
These are the voyages of the starship.. Frisbee-prise.
It's continuing mission:
to.. explore strange new fields,
to.. seek out new plays and.. frisbitizations,
to.. boldly go where.. no Mann has.. gone before."
Weather: 51 degrees, 30% chance of rain, 8 mph winds.
10/16/02 - Frisbee Musicals
Frisbee Musicals:
An enterprising young woman explores the vastly different culture of frisbee players in this musical on the things that make us different and the things that make us the same. One of the more memorable scenes involves a beautiful duet with the woman and the frisbeer symbolically joining cultures in musical harmony.
In pre-World War 2 Austria, a family of frisbee players explores the joys of life. Julie Sandrews delivers a spectacular performance in this uplifting musical. My favorite song is "These Are a Few of My Favorite Flings."
Poor French frisbee players lament the woes of their French frisbee-playing life in song-form.
Two opposing frisbee teams break out into spontaneous song and dance in this heart-wrenching musical. Romance blooms despite between two star-crossed lovers despite Maria playing with a white frisbee and Alfonso playing with a black frisbee.
Come play frisbee this Thursday at 4 pm at Mill Run.
Weather: 53 degrees, 30% chance of rain, 10 mph winds
10/8/02 - The Frisbee Zone
Consider, if you will, Trent Black, a Galyan's store clerk, who one day finds himself trapped in a department of the store that he had never known existed. Little does he know, but he has not only found a new department - he has stumbled upon an entirely new dimension. Trent has entered what we affectionately call The Frisbee Zone.
Weather: 66 degrees, 20% rain chance, 5 mph winds
10/2/02 - WFF
"Can you smeeell what the Rock is cookin'!?"
And the soft thud of a frisbee making impact with the back of a skull. And the Rock crumples to the ground as some other beefed up macho-man takes center stage.
Yeah, I think the Decapitator figured out just how hard it is to catch a frisbee with 350 pounds of lard sitting on top of you.
And we've got more coming up still because No-Neck and the Disfigured Man have been all over each other this past week, trash-talking about tonights game.
Oh, and they're starting to play now. A long frisbee throw to start it off, and that was a painful-looking clothesline. I don't think Forehead-Face is going to get up after that one. I'd hate to be the doctor in charge of fixing that up.
Forehead-Face is already ugly enough to stop a charging bull at ten paces, I don't think this will make that much of a difference.
Well, I think you're right on that one, John. But it appears that there's some sort of scuffle going on out of bounds. The players involved haven't even been paying attention to the game.
That's No-Neck and the Disfigured Man! They're not even trying to play!
It looks like they're finally going to settle this raging dispute, once and for all.
Ooh, No-Neck is down after a brutal onslaught from the Disfigured Man and the crowd is loving it! The Disfigured Man is flexing for the crowd now.
Wait, Jim, No-Neck doesn't appear to be out of it yet. What's he doing? Oh, he's got a chair! The Disfigured Man is completely oblivious! This is going to be painful!
Weather: 78 degrees, 30% rain chance, 4 mph winds
9/17/02 - Chicken Hawk
I was running a little dry on frisbee e-mail topics so I decide to seek inspiration from the good old (and simultaneously bad young) internet. What I found was the word "chicken hawk."
(CHIK.un.hawk) n. A person who now advocates war but who once took special measures to avoid military service. Also: chicken-hawk, chickenhawk
Weather: 83 degrees, 10% rain chance, 12 mph winds
9/11/02 - Frisbai Lama
What is the sound of one frisbee clapping?
Weather: 78 degrees!! 6 mph winds
9/4/02 - Glorious Battle
A trumpet blast shrills across the plain as two opposing lines of fully armored knights set their battle-hardened warhorses dashing toward each other. One line has etched upon their shields a green tree, it's boughs speckled with the beginnings of fruit; the other has emblazoned a red dragon, it's body coiled and wings cocked as if it were about to leap forth and fly to battle.
Weather: 81 degrees, no rain, 6 mph winds
8/28/02 - Splat
Splat. That is the sound a large chunk of gelatinous goo falling several stories to its untimely demise. Squish. That is the sound of a three-hooved mystical manticore stepping in a large chunk of gelatinous goo that had so recently fallen several stories to its untimely demise. Beep. That is the sound of censored obscenities streaming from the lips of said manticore upon realizing that it has stepped in a large chunk of gelatinous goo. "Soap!" That is the sound of a certain manticore's mother after hearing the unrepeatables that spewed forth from this star-crossed manticore's mouth. Squeaky-squeaky. That is the sound of a freshly cleaned manticore's hide being scrubbed clean of all traces of gelatinous goo. Wooosh. That is the sound of gelatinous goo falling from the bath several stories up where it was just evicted from the manticore's pelt (its home of the past three years). Clip-clop. That is the sound of an unsuspecting unicorn walking blindly down the street.
Weather: 77 degrees, 30% chance of rain, 11 mph winds
8/20/02 - Dashers vs. Ruffians
Hello, frisbeers! And welcome to another fun-filled day with NFC, the National Frisbee Channel. Where frisbee is life!
Weather: 86 degrees, 30% chance of rain, 13 mph winds
8/14/02 - Dentistry
There are many parallels that one might draw between the art of dentistry and that noble pursuit called frisbee.
Weather: 83 degrees, 30% chance of thunderstorms, 13 mph winds
8/7/02 - Frisbee Lives On!
Hey everybody!
With the Mann family out of town this week, I'm afraid it's left up to me to entice you to come play frisbee this week. True, I don't have encyclopedias of knowledge regarding gameplay like the Mann boys, I can't run at insane speeds for hours on end like them, I don't have their "wicked awesome" talents, I can't leap 20 ft straight up to make THE catch, and I'm not nearly as Mann-ly. But I DO have email, so I think that makes me plenty qualified to send this out.
The Laws of Frisbee
2) Time heals all wounds, but it can't do crap about that easy catch you just missed, so just say my bad and move on.
3) There's plenty of fish in the sea. . . but fish don't play frisbee, so what do I care?
4) A frisbeer (pronounced friz-bee-ur) is a person who plays frisbee, NOT a term for some exotic drink that they make in shady nightclubs.
5) A frisbee will never ask you to "share your feelings," or talk to you about who likes who.
6) Inversely, a frisbee always listens, and a frisbee does not think those shorts make you look fat.
7) A frisbee by any other name. . . still hurts like hell when it gets thrown into your face from six feet away.
Come play with us Thursday 4pm at Mill Run
Thursday's Forecast:
80 degrees, mostly sunny, calm winds, NO chance of rain! :-)
Be sure to have some means of keeping hydrated, because I hate to share my water. No, really.
7/31/02 - Retirement Home Frisbee
In honor of the lifelong pursuit of frisbee, we have Retirement Home Frisbee Quotes: (Note: All quotes should be said with appropriate old geezer accent, and most should be followed by the crazy old guy laugh.)
"Naw, he's just lapsed back into a comma."
"I told you, you shouldn't play with Alzheimer's."
Weather: 93 degrees, no rain, 7 mph winds - Bring water
7/24/02 - Legend of the Frisbee Monster
There is an old, old legend that is still whispered in the dark. Some say it is only a legend, mere fantasy, but there are others who know the truth. The legend tells of a man from an age long since past. A man they say was a monster.
Weather: Full moon, 84 degrees, 10% chance of rain, 5 mph winds
7/16/02 - The Bad Team
For some reason you got stuck on the "bad" team. Normally, teams are pretty fair but this week it's blatantly obvious and either no one is noticing this but you, or (as is most likely the case) that other devious team plotted this from the beginning in some childish plot to make you lose. Oh, but they're not going to get it that easily. No, sir. They don't know who they're dealing with. If they want to mess with the odds, you can show them how it's really done.
Note: I apologize for the recent lack of updates in the frisbee world. I've been off vacationing and camping and all kinds of what not, with not the slightest time left for the nobler pursuits of life.
6/17/02 - If You're Not Tired Yet...
Just to add strain to the stress that's already enveloped most of our VBS-filled lives, I am proposing a daily frisbee time.
Isaac
6/15/02 - Ultimate Frisbee Returns
Greetings frisbee-ers and non frisbee-ers,
Due to my graduation and a bunch of parties I had to go to, last week's frisbee game did not happen. But rest assured that Ultimate Frisbee is not dead and there will be a game tomorrow at 3. (at Mill Run) This is just a friendly reminder that unless your house is engulfed in a hurricane or you lose a limb somehow, you should come play frisbee with us tomorrow (and every saturday). Hope to see you all there,
6/12/02 - Nefarious Vagabond
I apologise for the tardiness of this week's e-mail, I was waylaid on the road by the nefarious vagabond known as finals and only barely managed to escape intact. It was a tough fight though, let me tell you. He came up from behind and stabbed with a take home right in the kidneys. Then he kicked an essay in my face and proceeded to batter me with a fast barrage of multiple choice punches. I only survived by choking him with a rolled up cheat sheet and then stabbing him through the heart with a ballpoint pen.
Thunderstorms all afternoon. 72 degrees, winds at 9 mph.
Frisbee, as always, will be held despite inclement weather. Just in case you were wondering.
6/6/02 - Mid-frisbee Crisis
72 degrees, mostly sunny (10% chance of rain), 10 mph winds
6/1/02 - Frisbee... must play...
5/30/02 - Finest Frisbeers
5/27/02 - Frisbee on a Monday?
5/23/02 - Robot Hell-Spawn
5/16/02 - Message Drums
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES
I LOVE YOU MOM, SEND CASH
It might be a little before, or a little after, but come prepared anyway.
(Towel, spare clothes, etc.)
5/9/02 - NFC
5/2/02 - This Just In
5/2/02 (again) - Frisbee Weather Update
Your Frisbee WeatherMann,
4/25/02 - In the Spirit of Last Week...
Last week was a perfect week for those frisbeers that were fortunate enough to play. This week is shaping up to be a bit colder. But that's not going to stop us. Here's my theory: If we play frisbee hard enough and pretend that it's warm out, the weather will become confused and decide that it should warm up for us.
4/12/02 - Sunday at 1
Hey,
Possible frisbee time this sunday at 1 (right after choir). And for those of you in prayer team, yes, this could be viewed as my first official act as team leader.
4/10/02 - Frisbee Weather!
Hey everyone,
I was reading the weather report online and I could just hear the weather man saying, "This Thursday there'll be a high of 73 degrees and, in this one weatherman's opinion, that's perfect frisbee weather." Anyway:
Isaac
Frisbee in Sub-Arctic
(Pertaining to the e-mail
5/2/02 (again) - Frisbee Weather Update.)
Dustman4Him: well first, lets start with frisbee type...
D: lets say its an official Galyans Ultimate Frisbee
D: and lets assume that the wind is at roughly 5-10 mph, which is average for most sub artic areas
S: is it snowing? or sleeting?
D: actually, despite popular belief, its generally pretty calm, thats how it stays so arctic
S: and how does the frisbee behave?
D: well, due to the temperature, the air pressure is significantly thinner
D: b/c it condensed due to the cold
D: which increases the gyroscopic inertia...
D: which makes the disc fly farther with less effort
S: so what you're saying is that everything about frisbee is better when playing in subarctic temps
D: yes, except for the fact that your body functions much worse in those conditions
D: however, from just the frisbee's point of view, everything is much better
D: and defintely better than playing on a hot humid day
Spellcheck
(Pertaining to the e-mail
8/20/02 - Dashers vs. Ruffians.)
2. it looks _like_ the game
2.b. up-close look at the match-up (too many ups)
3. disappointing _streak_ of losses (not strike)
4. left this _team_ desperately
5. _The_ Redneck Ruffians
5.b. Two "due to"s close together, one should be a "because of"
6. fast-paced action (not faced-paced)
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