FUCK YEAA!!!!!
WON BIG SEMIS 38-14
NEXT UP...
CITY CHAMPIONSHIP BIATCHESS!!!!
SO FUCKING PUMPED!!!!
I want to know 20 things about you. I don't care if we've never talked,
never liked each other, or if we already know
everything about each other. I really don't.
JUST GET'R DONE!
1.Your Full Name:
2. Age:
3. Single or Taken:
4. Favorite Movie:
5. Favorite Song:
6. Favorite Band/Artist:
7. Dirty or Clean:
8. Tattoos and/or Piercings:
HERE COMES THE FUN ... ... ...
1. Do we know each other outside of nexopia?
2. Whats your philosophy on life?
3. Would you have my back in a fight?
4. Would you keep a secret from me if you thought it was in my best interest?
5. What is your favorite memory of us?
6. Would you give me a kidney if I was dieing?
7. Tell me two odd/interesting facts about you:
8. Would you take care of me when I'm sick?
9. Can we get together and make a cake?
10. Have you heard any rumors of me lately?
11. Do you/have you talk(ed) crap about me?
12. Do you think I'm a good person?
13. Would you drive across country with me?
14. Do you think I'm attractive?
15. If you could change anything about me, would you?
16. What do you wear to sleep?
17. Would you come over for no reason just to hang out?
18. Would you ever take advantage of me?
19. If I only had one day to live, what would we do together?
20. Would you be a fellow ninja with me?
21. Will you post this so I can fill it out for you?
>It's sad seeing an RIP sign on everybody's page,
>We need to all realize we live in Calgary
>not compton
>stop the beef
>save a life
>re-post, if your from calgary
It's harder than it looks!
Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following...They have to be real places, names, things...nothing made up!
Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same 1st initial. You CAN'T use your name for the boy/girl name question.
Your name:
Fred
Famous Artist/Band/Musician:
Fall Out Boy
4 letter word:
Fuck
Place:
France
Boy Name:
Frank
Girl Name:
Francesca
Occupation:
Fireman
Something you wear:
Floods(i dun actually wear those but its all i could come up with)
Celebrity:
Fergie
Something found in a kitchen:
Fries
Reason for Being Late:
Fucking
Something You Shout:
Fuck!
Body Part:
Fallopian Tubes
Sem 1
Bio(Walsh)
Religion(Lacroix)/Spare
Italian(Kiss)
Math Pure(Debelser)
Sem 2
Eng(Doyle)
Social(Zeeb)
PE 20 Off(McFarland)
Spare/Sports Perf(Diluzio)
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete *** now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
13 FUCK YOU's of Nexopia
Fuck you number ONE.
There is NO SUCH THING as a Nexopia Tracker.
It does NOT exist. So quit posting stupid bulletins like
"OH-MY-GOD this WORKS!!!"
No, it doesnt.
Fuck You number TWO.
To the people who have like 1,000 friends;
Are you fucking serious?
You're stupid.
Go play in traffic.
Fuck you number THREE.
Don't ever post pictures and say:
"OMG, I'm so ugly"
because if you were, you wouldn't post them.
If you do you're a fucking moron.
Fuck you number FOUR.
NOBODY cares about threats over the internet,
so don't try to act hardcore with the keyboard.
Fighting online is like racing in the Special Olympics;
Even if you win, you're still retarded.
Fuck you number FIVE.
Quit crying because you're not on someones page
Who cares?!?
ITS NEXOPIA!!!
If you really cared that much, you would
pick up the damn phone!
Fuck you number SIX.
Who really cares if I don't accept you as a friend?
MOVE ON!!!
Don't send me another request or message asking
"What's up with you not adding me?"
I don't want you as a friend, that's what's up,
Asshole....
Fuck you number SEVEN.
6th graders who have Nexopia and look like sluts,
and act like whores;
Go somewhere else because nobody wants you here.
And Parents -
Quit blaming Nexopia for your kid being a hooker,
she was a whore before Nexopia
and she'd be a whore without it!
What does that say about your parenting skills?
Think about it!
Nexopia should really be for adults....
Fuck you number EIGHT.
If you have decided to read this, you are a true nexopia Friend.
Real friends read their blogs
except for the ones about those fucking ringtones....
Fuck you number NINE.
I say you go and pass this on and maybe it will finally get through people's brains
Fuck you number TEN.
If you read a blog and it says something like repost this in 100 seconds or a ghost will rape you tonight, or some dead bitch is going to rape your mom - quit being dumb!
Fuck you number ELEVEN.
Nexopia was created to keep up with friends.
Quit trying to check up on your ex!!
Come on, now, people, its called stalking...you might as well be sitting in front of their house with binoculars.
Fuck you number TWELVE
PLUS USERS, nuff said.
Fuck you number THIRTEEN
Hit whores...................
they're just plain needy and unstable.
This is a test to see how many people in your friends list
actually pay attention to you.
If this made you laugh, or you agree with it, then repost this with..
13 FUCK YOU's of Nexopia.
Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth. Never mind. You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you'll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked.
You are NOT as fat as you imagine.
Don't worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.
Do one thing every day that scares you.
Sing.
Don't be reckless with other people's hearts, don't put up with people who are reckless with yours.
Floss.
Don't waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind. The race is long, and in the end, it's only with yourself.
Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.
Stretch.
Don't feel guilty if you don't know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn't know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don't.
Get plenty of calcium.
Be kind to your knees, you'll miss them when they're gone.
Maybe you'll marry, maybe you won't, maybe you'll have children, maybe you won't, maybe you'll divorce at 40, maybe you'll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary. Whatever you do, don't congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself, either. Your choices are half chance, so are everybody else's. Enjoy your body, use it every way you can. Don't be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.
Dance. Even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.
Read the directions, even if you don't follow them.
Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.
Get to know your parents, you never know when they'll be gone for good.
Be nice to your siblings; they are your best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.
Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography in lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.
Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.
Travel.Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you'll fantasize that when you were young prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders.Respect your elders.
Don't expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you'll have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.
Don't mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.
Be careful whose advice you buy, but, be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it's worth.
The ****, dirtiest, most irresponsible group of athletes in the world. Will do anything just to be able to tell his teammates a great story in the dressing room. Live the dream until they are 35 then realize they never made it. You lace up the cleats, put on the cutters, strap on the helmet, and walk on to the field and nothing else matters. It doesn't matter that you failed a test, your girl is being a bitch, or that you got a ticket on the way there...you're world is absolutely perfect for the next couple hours. Here's to cadence, touchdowns, big blocks, overtime, living on the road, freezeing rain, early mornings, breaking tackles, being allstar, countless hours of practice, cross countrys, puking, thousands of dollars, juking d-men, endzone to endzone rushes, big hits, broken arms, new cleats, doing the same play over + over, seeing pretty much every football movie ever made, wheelin' broads, coaches, saying everyone one on the team is your brother, the word "f uck" has a totaly new meaning, pealing someone off the ground, ran outta pro rap, let downs, miracles and most of all - the game of Football. Why? Why do we run back and forth night after night? running so hard we throw up. running so hard your heart beat rings in your head, while your lungs are grasping for air. Late nights, early mornings, Friday nights, Saturday evenings, broken bones, torn muscles and deep bruises. We push through it all. Because we live off our adrenaline, because the game frees your spirit, because the party in the locker room is second to none, because you're invincible once you step on the field, because one hit can make you smile all night, square in the corner, over the shoulder with one hand, cathes that can only be called realing it in, the burn from the turf when you stand, the feal of pig skin, and cleats carving into the ground is a rhythm to live by, because its possible to run fast enough to leave all your worries behind. Sweat is the cologne of our accomplishment. Why? Why would someone push themselves so hard the uneducated pussies always ask? ATOM, pee wee, bantom, flag, highschool, midget, tier 1, 2, 3, and 4, Jr, College, and if your smart University, CFL, and always that little chance NFL ... It's never been for the **** money, it's not for the girls, and it's not for the fame...The Boys' play because we **** LOVE IT... If you are a Football player and you are proud to be one, pass this **** on with pride mother ****, and let everyone know the definition of man.
This is for the stars in the show and the guys going to the show, the boys in
the juniors living the dream and the die hards lighting up the Midget leagues.
This is for the big hitters, the playmakers, the gridiron, the fighters, the line
men, the pain train d-men, the kicks that go right through pipes, the men
on the bench, and the boys in the slings.
