I don't like to point the finger at other sites and how sucky they are but... well, I actually do. Because there are some nice people on other sites and it would be interesting to chat with them if the site itself wasn't run like a Khmer Rouge prison camp.
A few years ago I was on a site that was run like a dictatorial regime. They posted huge lists of rules and regulations, it was like you were becoming a member of some cornball secret society online. Then, if you messed up, they would give you demerit points and you had to sit there and be silenced like you were in the Nation of Islam. They would ban people for the most subjective silly comments and they meant no harm. God forbid you would ever start a controversy over there. They had sub-moderators whose job it was to seek out those who were in violation of the rules. I am totally serious. Then, BOOM you were gone. I was a member for like a week and it was one of the most intense, harrowing, joyless experiences of my entire life. I am scarred as a result of being a temporary member of that forum, like I had to spend a week in the Los Angeles County Detention Facility. But I made it out.
There is also another site where you have to petition the site boss with a list of the pipes you own, so that he can check it and make sure that you are "good enough" to be a site member. This place is for the real elite pipe snobs of the universe. The posts there are like Faulkner novels. Sheesh. I was so unimpressed by this that when I signed up, I listed a Wally Frank, two Dr. Grabows held up by duct tape, and a cob. Needless to say I wasn't accepted to the club. Seriously who would want to be in a forum with people that ask you for your "coolness card" before you even join. What a bunch of dorks. Oh well, let them have their fun I guess. It only makes what Kevin has built here seem more fun.
This place, on the other hand, is like the "Hee Haw" of pipe forums. Irreverent, funny, but you know we got your back. It is like a "Joe's Bar and Grill" type atmosphere with an old jukebox and a bunch of Tom T. Hall records, and a pool table and some three-year-old potato chips on a rack. There's a cigarette machine, a neon sign that is missing a letter, and a 1988 Oldsmobile Cutlass Supreme out front with a coat hanger holding up the muffler, and a bunch of very laid back people at the bar drinking everything from Old Milwaukee to the Turkey. No one judges you by your pipe. It's like a truck stop bar in West Memphis with a bunch of fun folks and a Merle Haggard song playing in the background.
All we need is the sleazy lot lizards. Maybe we need to recruit some?
