Re: Dwight Freeney's Mom "I don't want my son to play for NE,The fans abused me there
obviously she has never heard about Gate D and the lowest form of subhuman scum ever allowed to breed unchecked on this planet...
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Raw Video, Jets 'Gate D Party'
This item updates item 'Calls To Stop Flashing At Jets Games.'
On Sunday, visiting Steelers fan Dawn Gottschalk unknowingly walked into the crowd where she says hundreds of men singled her out and screamed for her to show her breasts.
"People were touching me and things like that and it was very, very frightening," Gottschalk said.
When Gottschalk refused, it got ugly. "They started yelling obscenities and throwing beer bottles. And spitting and it was really intimidating."
In a written statement, State Senate President Richard Codey on Tuesday called for the state police and New Jersey Sports and Exposition Authority to increase security, adding:
"Apparently, Gate D stands for drunk and disgusting. It's beyond comprehension why security personnel would tolerate such behavior. �"
LiveLeak.com - Raw Video, Jets 'Gate D Party'
subhuman scum saucking d-bags....perhaps you won't mind your precious little Dwightzy playing for Fat Slob Degenerate and the Green Circus.
Joker, bringing fourth the killer topic of "Famous Public Displays Of Tits In The Greater NYC Metropolitan Area".
Now, THAT'S a subject I can get into on a fine Friday afternoon. heh heh heh.
Here's tha Pewsterbaby (aka Brooklyn Matt) skinny on that hawt subject...
1. Rewind to December of 1991. Grunge Rock has just broken big with Nirvana's Nevermind & Pearl Jam's Ten. Guns N' Roses are also kings of the Rock Heap & have released Use Your Illusion I & II. A monstrous marathon listening experience, totaling eight full album sides worth of new material.
They take their burlesque on the road and pull into the bowels of Madison Square Garden in Mid December. This is the crowning achievement moment in their careers. When one steps onto the Madison Square Garden stage, it's the most important step they'll take in their lives. Akin to Armstrong's "One small step for man...", it represents the pinnacle of individual achievement.
At the time, myself being a 25 year old player (albeit a small one, but still a player nevertheless) in the New York City Rock Subculture, NEED to be there. My girlfriend, whose St. Mark's Place apartment I'm living in rent free (even though she constantly hounds me about it) buys us our tickets. Yeah man, for 2 of the 3 nights of G&R's stint, the Monday & the Friday ones, with us taking the mid-week show off.
The night of the first show, I make sure I've got my hawt skank-o-rama girlfriend in full groupie regalia. No holds barred, let it fricking rip baby. She's dropped into a pair of black suede thigh high boots. Above that, legs up to her neck, American thighs ensconced in fricking fishnet stockings with the garter belt straps exposed, hiking 'em up nice and taught.
Above the legs that never end, she's got her hot snatch covered by a pair of Daisy Dukes which are barely there.
Top off the ensemble with a tasteful see-thru nylon print blouse with a lace black bra easily seen underneath.
Freaking spackle on the base makeup onto her cool face with her praying mantis desirable facial structure going on. The whole Japan-a-mation triangular look with the huge eyes filtering down to a tiny mouth.
Yeah, so I have my Rock Slut on my arm as we make the rounds inside The Garden's inner oval. Soundgarden has just finished their warmup set & Chris Cornell's electric guitar is still spot-lit, center stage and purposely feeding back for a good five minutes until the light man is instructed to finally fade to black.
The house lights come back up, illuminating the wafting cloud of cigarette smoke suspended above the floor seats and hovering just below the expansive famous wooden ceiling. A little bit stoned, my best girl raises her beautifully bloodshot eyes to find our seat location. She can do all the thinking tonight. I'm too busy feeling butterflies just drinking her hotness in.
Anyway, we get to out seats halfway up, a third of the way back from the stage, on Slash's side. It's around 9 p.m. At a regular concert, this would be close to the time the headliners go on. At arenas, the evening;s programs have to be finished by 11 p.m. If they're not, everyone who's a venue employee gets paid overtime. It's a union law & well known to those in the business... including Axl Rose.
Well, that never seemed to deter Axl Rose from taking his sweet time before he was supposed to go on during the 1991-1992 Use Your Illusion Tour. He was notorious for making everyone wait until he was good and ready to perform. 9 o'clock would come and go. 10 o'clock would pass by without any word from his dressing room. 11 o'clock..... still nothing.
So... what are 20 thousand ravenous Rock people supposed to do in the meantime to keep our whacked-out selves amused? I mean, we're hungry for spectacle and there's only so much gawking at hot chicks you can do until you feel like bending them over right then and there.
Eureka! Problem solved by our girls. Our cool assed chicks save the day.
One decided to hike up her top and shake her tits around. The Garden roars in approval as the cameramen & lightmen get a great collective idea.
They search the assembled throng for the NEXT chick whose tits we want to see. A single spotlight would hover on her and she could see herself on the jumbotron screens to each side of the stage.
It was hilarious. Like 9 out of every 10 chicks would happily comply.
This went on for what seemed a half hour. It was in the Daily News the next morning. I couldn't believe how some women found it degrading to those somehow "pressured" into showing their sweet tits. Man, what bitter broads. lol.
Anyway, the spolight came to our row and settled on the chick three seats to my right. Why her and not my girl? Because mine was a little on the flat side. She was more sleek and feline looking. Her whole look was based on length & long line. My chick was on the aisle seat to my left. The spot-lit one was on my other side=, three seats over.
Yo, this chick got into it so much, she not only lifted up her halter top,. Nah man, she took thw whole thing off and whipped it around, finally flinging it ... and her self respect (lol)... up into the air, finally landing a bunch of rows below.
To myself, I was like,"Oh damn. What am I supposed to do here? I swear to God, I think Carol would enforce that I'm not allowed to look at this hotness happening 10 feet to my right."
I swear, I think I was the only red blooded male in the whole Garden not staring at this chick who was naked from the waist up & totally loving herself for it.
People, this girl had both arms raised over her head as she quickly shimmied her chest side to side. Those tits were flinging all over the place. With my craned peripheral vision as far over as possible without moving a neck muscle, I could see those tits rocketing to-and-fro like glorious melons. Oh man. Soooo hot.
After it was all over, my best girl turned to me and gave me an appreciative kiss on the cheek.
Nothing needed to be said. What it was for needn't verbalization.
And anyway....
I'd rather receive her silent feminine kiss with its implicated meaning than gawk at some raucous topless girl I didn't even know.
Soon thereafter, Axl finally decided to grace us with his presence and Slash & the boys rocked us WELL and HARD until two in the morning.
The End
(A Patsfans Friday Afternoon Pewsterbaby Joint)
