you set up an autoclicker? Amazing. Not sure how you got it to switch to a different country every time in your VPN though.Oooh-Ahhh Vote McGrath! - McGrath VICTORY: A New Dawn OFFICIAL
- Thread starter McGrathsipan
- Start date
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In the latest episode of the United Hour Podcast, Nik @Rood and Imran @Annihilate Now! start with the good news by celebrating Manchester United Women's emphatic FA Cup win over Spurs at Wembley and the future of manager Marc Skinner.
Then it's the bad news and the ever worsening form of our Men with losses to Arsenal and Palace.
Finally the main debate - ETH Out now or keep him until the end of the season - if not longer. Are you Team Nik or Team Imran?
you set up an autoclicker? Amazing. Not sure how you got it to switch to a different country every time in your VPN though.
She said to thank the redcafe army , I just didnt tell you because I knew you loved Marie Megadeths more!
Now we know mR pIgeoN - Now we know!
Legendary thread - this has to be mentioned come award time. I've been laughing out loud sat at my desk. Well done Dawn, and even more so - well done Caf!
Just don't let her use the black.
I will move it to the classics once we have a confirmed winner.
Will be the first entry into the classics since 2016!
Will be the first entry into the classics since 2016!
No, no, no. If you move it to the classics isn't it visible? Need to wait a few months for any heat to die down.
Can't wait for the McGrath Exhibition to open...Think the Caf collective should all visit it dressed like robots.
Wonder how Duffy slept last night? Her pillows probably wet from salty tears of regret and shame.
Wonder how Duffy slept last night? Her pillows probably wet from salty tears of regret and shame.
You can set those up with a list/array in your program that it will cycle through and choose a different option each iteration.
So at what time tomorrow do we learn we've gone and got Dawn disqualified?
act 1, scene 1
“oh i’ll never be able to paint anything decent in 4 hours and just look who i’m up against.”
“nonsense, you’ll do great. art has always come so naturally to you, my love. just enjoy it and pretend you’re the only one here. after all, you’re the only one i ever see.”
a warm smile inched its way across dawn’s face. her husband had always been so supportive of her and her silly little hobby. “it doesn’t matter if i win or not,” she thought to herself, “i’m just here to have fun, art will win regardless.”
“paint pots, ready!? artists, ready?! three, two, one peep”
it was art-off time. for the contestants, the 4 hours passed by in the blinking of an eye. a whirlwind of palette mixing, a series of deft brush strokes, periods of prolonged admiration of the subject piece. well for all except one, who managed to do 4 hours of painting in just 20 minutes, tongue lolloping, squeezing a blob of green paint directly onto the canvas before drawing a serious of afros in a manner which could only be described as shitly. for them the 4 hours felt like an eternity.
before the remaining 4 knew it, the timer buzzed and it was brushes down, well all brushes down except for duffy’s. she continued to touch up her painting long after the allotted time had ended. dawn noticed but didn’t care, she was so happy that she’d managed to shake off her early nerves and deliver a piece of work she was happy with. duffy’s antics hadn’t escaped the notice of dawn’s husband either, he had already been riled up by duffy earlier that day. she had pulled him up on parking in a disabled bay at the coffee shop as “the other spaces are over 20 foot away and i’m too important to walk.” that bitch must pay, he thought to himself silently inside his head, before chucking loudly outside his head. immediately dawn’s husband noticed everyone was staring at him. it seems he had cut mr. feile off mid speech, just as he was lamenting the fact his wife, mrs. phobail, couldn’t be at the art-off this afternoon after her recent passing. dawn’s husband bowed his head, cheeks burning with shame, slowly stewing and lamenting the embarrassment he had just suffered. he blamed duffy. “oh i’ll get that bitch, i’ll get that bitch” he muttered under his breath, again, causing mr. feile to stop his speech and ask “sorry what was that?” dawn’s husband decided it would be better if he waited in the car.
dawn soon joined him and asked him what the matter was, her art buzz slowly fading after her husband’s antics. “nothing, dear, i’m so proud of you. let’s see if we can win this thing.”
“oh i don’t really care about that but it would be nice if my work was appreciated.”
“leave it with me, my everything.” he said, jovially but obviously schemingly.
dawn’s husband pulled out of the disabled parking bay and noticed duffy taking the time to clear litter from outside the coffee shop “it’s on, it’s on” he mouthed to her as they slowly drove by. this confused duffy but she soon got over it when she realised there was a disabled orphan 15p short of a coffee and a croissant and that needed both her immediate assistance and her undivided attention.
“oh i’ll never be able to paint anything decent in 4 hours and just look who i’m up against.”
“nonsense, you’ll do great. art has always come so naturally to you, my love. just enjoy it and pretend you’re the only one here. after all, you’re the only one i ever see.”
a warm smile inched its way across dawn’s face. her husband had always been so supportive of her and her silly little hobby. “it doesn’t matter if i win or not,” she thought to herself, “i’m just here to have fun, art will win regardless.”
“paint pots, ready!? artists, ready?! three, two, one peep”
it was art-off time. for the contestants, the 4 hours passed by in the blinking of an eye. a whirlwind of palette mixing, a series of deft brush strokes, periods of prolonged admiration of the subject piece. well for all except one, who managed to do 4 hours of painting in just 20 minutes, tongue lolloping, squeezing a blob of green paint directly onto the canvas before drawing a serious of afros in a manner which could only be described as shitly. for them the 4 hours felt like an eternity.
before the remaining 4 knew it, the timer buzzed and it was brushes down, well all brushes down except for duffy’s. she continued to touch up her painting long after the allotted time had ended. dawn noticed but didn’t care, she was so happy that she’d managed to shake off her early nerves and deliver a piece of work she was happy with. duffy’s antics hadn’t escaped the notice of dawn’s husband either, he had already been riled up by duffy earlier that day. she had pulled him up on parking in a disabled bay at the coffee shop as “the other spaces are over 20 foot away and i’m too important to walk.” that bitch must pay, he thought to himself silently inside his head, before chucking loudly outside his head. immediately dawn’s husband noticed everyone was staring at him. it seems he had cut mr. feile off mid speech, just as he was lamenting the fact his wife, mrs. phobail, couldn’t be at the art-off this afternoon after her recent passing. dawn’s husband bowed his head, cheeks burning with shame, slowly stewing and lamenting the embarrassment he had just suffered. he blamed duffy. “oh i’ll get that bitch, i’ll get that bitch” he muttered under his breath, again, causing mr. feile to stop his speech and ask “sorry what was that?” dawn’s husband decided it would be better if he waited in the car.
dawn soon joined him and asked him what the matter was, her art buzz slowly fading after her husband’s antics. “nothing, dear, i’m so proud of you. let’s see if we can win this thing.”
“oh i don’t really care about that but it would be nice if my work was appreciated.”
“leave it with me, my everything.” he said, jovially but obviously schemingly.
dawn’s husband pulled out of the disabled parking bay and noticed duffy taking the time to clear litter from outside the coffee shop “it’s on, it’s on” he mouthed to her as they slowly drove by. this confused duffy but she soon got over it when she realised there was a disabled orphan 15p short of a coffee and a croissant and that needed both her immediate assistance and her undivided attention.
Haha stopp
It is.
Oh we might need to put that idea on ice.
I demand three acts with at least four scenes in each
!I hope it gets greenlit.
act 1, scene 2
dawn and her husband arrived home. there had been an uneasy tension in the car, dawn mulling over her art and her husband’s outbursts, her husband mulling over how to get one over on duffy. the silence only ever broken by dawn’s husband forcefully agreeing with very right wing callers on lbc.
“yeah! kick ‘em out.”
“i don’t know how they would of coped during the war.”
“two world wars and two gen-ders.”
a weary dawn headed for the house, dawn’s husband informed her he was going for a walk as he needed some fresh air.
“i’d love to join you, honey, but i’m knackered, i’ll just curl up on the sofa. where are you going?”
“not sure yet,” he lied, “i’ll see where my legs carry me, see you soon, my love.” dawn’s husband knew exactly where he was going to go; camlake canvas. a noncey smirk filled his cheeks.
it was a longer walk than he remembered, his legs had begun to ache long before the lights of the shop illuminated the murky sky. tiredness made way to rage as duffy and meredeth’s paintings came to view.
“house. meredeth”
£1750 : cash only
“black mountain”
a reasonable donation to the rnli and a vote in the feile an phobail!
“why the feck are these front and centre? and selling a vote!? that’s against the spirit of all this. i only came for vengeance but now i’m going to crush her in the vote. whatever it takes.”
the vote would have to wait for now, dawn’s husband had some dog shit to find and shove through the quaint little art house’s letterbox. the painstaking search took him longer than he cared to admit.
“too hard.”
“too soft”
“too sloppy”
“ah. just right.”
his master plan was nearing completion. unfortunately he hadn’t realised that the letterbox at camlake canvas had that really thick and aggressive black brush that some letterboxes have that make it next to impossible to post anything through them. he ended up with most of it over the back of his hand and up his sleeve.
“she’s always one step ahead,” he whispered forlornly as he trudged off home.
dawn and her husband arrived home. there had been an uneasy tension in the car, dawn mulling over her art and her husband’s outbursts, her husband mulling over how to get one over on duffy. the silence only ever broken by dawn’s husband forcefully agreeing with very right wing callers on lbc.
“yeah! kick ‘em out.”
“i don’t know how they would of coped during the war.”
“two world wars and two gen-ders.”
a weary dawn headed for the house, dawn’s husband informed her he was going for a walk as he needed some fresh air.
“i’d love to join you, honey, but i’m knackered, i’ll just curl up on the sofa. where are you going?”
“not sure yet,” he lied, “i’ll see where my legs carry me, see you soon, my love.” dawn’s husband knew exactly where he was going to go; camlake canvas. a noncey smirk filled his cheeks.
it was a longer walk than he remembered, his legs had begun to ache long before the lights of the shop illuminated the murky sky. tiredness made way to rage as duffy and meredeth’s paintings came to view.
“house. meredeth”
£1750 : cash only
“black mountain”
a reasonable donation to the rnli and a vote in the feile an phobail!
“why the feck are these front and centre? and selling a vote!? that’s against the spirit of all this. i only came for vengeance but now i’m going to crush her in the vote. whatever it takes.”
the vote would have to wait for now, dawn’s husband had some dog shit to find and shove through the quaint little art house’s letterbox. the painstaking search took him longer than he cared to admit.
“too hard.”
“too soft”
“too sloppy”
“ah. just right.”
his master plan was nearing completion. unfortunately he hadn’t realised that the letterbox at camlake canvas had that really thick and aggressive black brush that some letterboxes have that make it next to impossible to post anything through them. he ended up with most of it over the back of his hand and up his sleeve.
“she’s always one step ahead,” he whispered forlornly as he trudged off home.
I hate those letterboxesRimaldo
I can't wait to see how the Cafe is represented in Rimaldo's mind
Wonderful as always
The real art was the thread that was made along the way.
@McGrathsipan Do you plan on showing your wife this thread ?
well doneact 1, scene 3.
“you were gone ages. where have you been?” dawn yawned as she stretched herself awake on the sofa. “what’s that on your sleeve?”
“everywhere and nowhere. just clearing my head. sorry i’ve been a bit off this afternoon. seeing you so anxious and worried about your talent threw me for 6 i think.”
“oh you’re so sweet. i feel better about it all now. it’s just an amateur competition, i was being silly.”
dawn’s husband smiled warmly “do you need anything from the kitchen? i’m just going to grab a drink then head to the study to catch up on some admin and some work.”
“no thanks. i’m going to have a shower then hit the sack. don’t be long.”
dawn’s husband wasn’t going to make a promise he couldn’t keep. he kissed her goodnight on the forehead.
“ergh. you smell really bad.”
“i think i trod in something on the walk. i’ll sort it now. night, my love.”
dawn’s husband headed for the pc. he opened internet explorer as usual, quadruple clicking on one of the 5 internet explorer shortcuts he’d placed on the desktop, loudly lamenting the fact the shit computer had opened two world wide internets again. with the drama over, he began one finger typing.
h t t p s ; / / p o l l . f m / 1 0 8 9 1 7 2 5
“why the feck doesn’t it work?! dawn’s nobbled the link in an attempt to monopolise all the votes. paddymandering at its finest!” he thought to himself. a good 15 minutes went by before he realised his mistake. it took a further 5 minutes for him to one finger type it correctly.
click dawn mcgrath. click vote. close window. open internet explorer. feck. two internet explorers. one finger type url. click dawn mcgrath. click vote. close window.
“how have i been doing this all night and not moved the percentage bar along at all? either duffy has nobbled this or she’s getting votes at the same rate of knots. what a cheating bitch. i’ll need an army.”
he mused for a while. where could he find the kind of people with so little going on in their lives that they would be willing to spend their time and energy voting on this? where could he find the right profile of feckless wonders to gormlessly carry out the same, repetitive task with little to no pay off? “a-ha! i’ve got it! social platforms!”
dawn’s husband clicked on his favourites. “now where are they?”
he scrolled down past the first few-
“hot top down naked asian men - google image results”
“is cheese a good present? - ask jeeves”
“about:blank”
“about:blank”
“do you have to report hitting a dog in your car to the police - google results”
“no, it’s none of these.” he thought to himself. keep going. “ah here we are. redcafe.net. but first, a little reward after all that clicking. hot top down naked asian men. ah yes.
“you were gone ages. where have you been?” dawn yawned as she stretched herself awake on the sofa. “what’s that on your sleeve?”
“everywhere and nowhere. just clearing my head. sorry i’ve been a bit off this afternoon. seeing you so anxious and worried about your talent threw me for 6 i think.”
“oh you’re so sweet. i feel better about it all now. it’s just an amateur competition, i was being silly.”
dawn’s husband smiled warmly “do you need anything from the kitchen? i’m just going to grab a drink then head to the study to catch up on some admin and some work.”
“no thanks. i’m going to have a shower then hit the sack. don’t be long.”
dawn’s husband wasn’t going to make a promise he couldn’t keep. he kissed her goodnight on the forehead.
“ergh. you smell really bad.”
“i think i trod in something on the walk. i’ll sort it now. night, my love.”
dawn’s husband headed for the pc. he opened internet explorer as usual, quadruple clicking on one of the 5 internet explorer shortcuts he’d placed on the desktop, loudly lamenting the fact the shit computer had opened two world wide internets again. with the drama over, he began one finger typing.
h t t p s ; / / p o l l . f m / 1 0 8 9 1 7 2 5
“why the feck doesn’t it work?! dawn’s nobbled the link in an attempt to monopolise all the votes. paddymandering at its finest!” he thought to himself. a good 15 minutes went by before he realised his mistake. it took a further 5 minutes for him to one finger type it correctly.
click dawn mcgrath. click vote. close window. open internet explorer. feck. two internet explorers. one finger type url. click dawn mcgrath. click vote. close window.
“how have i been doing this all night and not moved the percentage bar along at all? either duffy has nobbled this or she’s getting votes at the same rate of knots. what a cheating bitch. i’ll need an army.”
he mused for a while. where could he find the kind of people with so little going on in their lives that they would be willing to spend their time and energy voting on this? where could he find the right profile of feckless wonders to gormlessly carry out the same, repetitive task with little to no pay off? “a-ha! i’ve got it! social platforms!”
dawn’s husband clicked on his favourites. “now where are they?”
he scrolled down past the first few-
“hot top down naked asian men - google image results”
“is cheese a good present? - ask jeeves”
“about:blank”
“about:blank”
“do you have to report hitting a dog in your car to the police - google results”
“no, it’s none of these.” he thought to himself. keep going. “ah here we are. redcafe.net. but first, a little reward after all that clicking. hot top down naked asian men. ah yes.
It's a trilogy for the ages.
A true masterpiece, unlike that painting by Duffy....
A true masterpiece, unlike that painting by Duffy....
Let's put it to a vote?
Let's go! Someone add a pollLet's put it to a vote?
Let's put it to a vote?
This thread just keeps on giving
I vote yes!!Let's put it to a vote?