RubiniGab ... Now defunct

[WORTHAUGERa]

There were these kids. They pushed me down into a pile of dogshit. *PLOP* Bullseye. I remember that I was wearing orange swim trunks.

I was about seven years old. Compared to that, you ain't got shit on me. Screw.



Oh, your mood is ruined. Wow, what's that like? The tragedy, I mean; given that was probably the first emotional plateau you've experienced in the last twelve years, pillhound.

[AZZERAE]

Oh, your mood is ruined. Wow, what's that like? The tragedy, I mean; given that was probably the first emotional plateau you've experienced in the last twelve years, pillhound.

How would you know? You get a woody every time you see a kid get hit by a bus.

[AZZERAE]

There were these kids. They pushed me down into a pile of dogshit. *PLOP* Bullseye. I remember that I was wearing orange swim trunks.

Did they pull your piss stained trunks off your ass and take turns fucking it? That's what me and my friends got "the birthday boy" for his 21st.

[AZZERAE]

[WORTHAUGERa]

every time you see a kid get hit by a bus.

Having never seen the event described--I've only ever had it depicted for me by various & variously-skilled troupes of immigrant nuns--I cannot attest to any totesertitude of unfolded future happiness. (Well, I am happy when a child actually goes outside at all, one can be totesure about that.) I will kindly ask you to return to the simple use of racial slurs that you, your vile kind, your filthy ilk, and your beyond vile & utterly loathsome hyoo-mon-plus-one genome--if you can even call it that--are famous for. Filthy, filthy genome. Dirty.

You get a woody every time

Blush.

[Laser]

Looks mighty bloated yet. Still believes he has super powers and walking on air.

All wrapped up and nothing to package.

[WORTHAUGERa]

All wrapped up and nothing to package.

[pate]

(I used to play Dark Tower by myself, but this is much more interesting.)


CURRENT OPERATIONAL STATUS: Breaker One–Nine, Tripped.
CURRENT NOMINAL QUEEN: Billy Corgan.
CURRENT NOMINAL JESTER: BOB.
CURRENT ROYAL VEGETABLE: Broccolini.
CURRENT ROYAL FRUIT: Pomegranate.
CURRENT ROYAL HERBS: (‰°) Sage/Thyme.

CURRENT QUORUM: 2 + 3 (I-VALUE ATTAINED.
SCORING IS DISABLED DURING C-(CLASSIFIED). PROCEDURE CALL LIBRARY NOW STEPDAUGHTER.)




Hopefully, Ms. Sweeny & I can work out the rest of the details in the future... over breakfast. Now, I know what you're thinking, but I don't care; I've always been a proponent of striking while the iron is hot.

Hopefully, this one isn't dead. I don't wanna check Wikipedia, it'll run the fantasy—for Me, that's for real. Resurrection only goes so far. It's not like I've a fetish for it, or anything like that. I'm mostly just tired of waiting for c to finish compiling.

More after I break this bottle of champagne over my head. It works. Don't knock it, break that {gerund:profane} thingy right over my blasted skull and get out to push me right over a cliff, because I tried it, AND IT WORKS.

I mean..  I don't know what it actually does, but... well, I'll look into further studying of that in the morning. I've got an actual life, People. And as much as I'd love to do nothing else but lay around in bed all day studying esoteric symbology (like, You have NO idea), I have to leave Eden in the morning, & this bottle of wine isn't going to drink itself on its own.

But I will. According to the telemetry I have at my disposal, I might be called back to full status again at basically any time. Which, don't get me wrong, very very cool, and it's actually cooler that none of you half-tards need to validate my experience (in fact, derision enhances it). However, I bought a shitload of alcohol, and I don't want to miss a thing.

I'm basically a volunteer fireman now. I believe this may well in fact be a way to repay my dharma I've accrued for all that cindering I did, and all the writing I've done of words that reportedly cause a sensitive reader to spontaneously burst into flames.

What can I say? I allowed all that. Sorry doesn't cut it. So, I'm gonna sit here—lounge, really—while my favorite movie (Memento) plays and I get my smoke on (Zkittlez X Gelato, purple & sticky) and my drink on. (I told you that I started drinking again, right? I'm also slamming coke while parallel parking; back off Man, I'm a scientist.) Maybe I'll do a little gambling? I'm feeling lucky, as well as deliriously self-satisfied in how spectacularly responsible I've been in staying on top of discharging my own penance. Hopefully, Our Lord & Savior, Jesus Christ, will forgive me for my sins. He provided me with Beef Wellington tonight, so, I'm not gonna lie... I think my prognosis is favorable. My tummy feels favorable, though, I'll tell you what; it feels like everything below my hernia is in Heaven.

And, I do mean every thing.

Hopefully a lowly sub-creature–really, no better than a worm–can be saved from the horrific consequences of my low-vibrational behaviour, but if anyone can do it, well, I'd pick an (RACIAL_SLUR) with a boomerang. That's my motto now.

Possible face tattoo. Oh, wait; needles. SONOFABI—*click*

TIA:  Why is it that when I type "smurfuggin" into the 'tube does this:



show up in the resluts?

Axing for a fiend.

[Worthauger]

Whatever has been happening in the last twenty minutes has made me want to vomit. On the freeway. Fuck pulling over, I was gonna be content to roll down and spill the wind. As I am thankful to be spared any further details, I shall return all of all y'all the return favor.


TOWER.
TRUTH.
RETURN.
REEEEEEE—
SPUTCH THE HUTCH.

[Worthauger]

As I am thankful to be spared any further details, I shall return all of all y'all the return favor.

I just ate a Costco roast chicken in a Costco parking lot—a little too ironic, don't you think, and if you don't I will fight you and (blank) you to death—and really, I was like a ravenous beast, except for two facts and two facts only. I shall now enumerate these facts below:


Number one. I didn't eat the whole chicken. I stopped myself after HALF and I didn't litter. So, you know... civilized.

Number two: I used a fork. See?  TTTotescivill
I'm still working on the spelling, MM

[pate]

Whatever has been happening in the last twenty minutes has made me want to vomit. On the freeway. Fuck pulling over, I was gonna be content to roll down and spill the wind. As I am thankful to be spared any further details, I shall return all of all y'all the return favor.


TOWER.
TRUTH.
RETURN.
REEEEEEE—
SPUTCH THE HUTCH.

I just ate a Costco roast chicken in a Costco parking lot—a little too ironic, don't you think, and if you don't I will fight you and (blank) you to death—and really, I was like a ravenous beast, except for two facts and two facts only. I shall now enumerate these facts below:


Number one. I didn't eat the whole chicken. I stopped myself after HALF and I didn't litter. So, you know... civilized.

Number two: I used a fork. See?  TTTotescivill
I'm still working on the spelling, MM

I just ate a Costco roast chicken in a Costco parking lot—a little too ironic, don't you think, and if you don't I will fight you and (blank) you to death—and really, I was like a ravenous beast, except for two facts and two facts only. I shall now enumerate these facts below:


Number one. I didn't eat the whole chicken. I stopped myself after HALF and I didn't litter. So, you know... civilized.

Number two: I used a fork. See?  TTTotescivill
I'm still working on the spelling, MM

Don't say I never gave you a tip...

[Innerreach]

Don't say I never gave you a tip...

😆

Ha!

[Worthauger]

That was great timing, Cyrano. I could smell it through the door.

[Laser]

That was great timing, Cyrano. I could smell it through the door.

I just ate a roast (blank) in a parking lot—a little too ironic, don't you think, and if you don't I will fight you and FLATTER you to death.

[pate]

That was great timing, Cyrano. I could smell it through the door.

Code: [Select]

https://youtu.be/kVIdEuXF4HU

Code: [Select]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7MBaEEODzU0