It never seems to stop but it always has to end.
We need to form a club or something.
I've stayed up an additional six hours to get a printer working in the past.
Peruse or abuse? Refuse or garbage? Fuse or filament? Ruse or trickery? Obtuse or acute? Excuse or explanation? If Jonafras is walking at a rate of 4 m/s at the start of a race and increases his speed with an acceleration that begins at 5 m/s and has a jerk of 6 m/s at what time will he reach escape velocity? If a Russian, a Rabbi, and a Ranger run rampantly over random ranges of ramps and ravers as the reach really reticently for righteous red ringlets, then would an Irishman, an Ichthyosaur and and Insider initiate interest in innervated, innovative, and otherwise inconsiderate and inconsolable idiots? What time is it? If he lived in the 14th century would William Faulkner have instructions to write additional Pylons? Is that a good sound? Which way is the ground? Would you fear Nietzsche's overman holding Chekhov's gun? Where did all the flowers go? Gundam Unicorn?
Got one panel of glory in Hayate no Gotoku, one of the funniest series ever.
Starts with abnormal questions. What did you think of me the first time you realized I existed? What do you currently think of me? Are you aware that you're the first person I've asked this in a question time thread? Do you know why that is? On to the normal questions. Do you wanna dance? Assonance or alliteration? Abstinence or obliteration? Absinthe or determination? Archetypal or atypical? What flavor do you most favor when in the mood to savor? Spirit or opportunity? Can I interest you in a new vacuum cleaner? Call me?
Here I thought I'd never see the word Cin out of programming ever again.
It actually does.
Thing that really gets me is that you'd put books in a pile. Like you were going to burn them. Books belong on shelves or in neat stacks. I might have to call literature control to get those books saved and sent to proper homes or euthanized.
I'm glad I'm not the only one who still plays the first one.
5 days later I reply: Same.
Gonna have trouble making the deadline given my schedule, but I'll be damned if I'm gonna miss another month of this without my consent. I'll at least rub my face against the keyboard for half an hour and post that if all else fails. Edit: Eh. It's a failed experiment in surrealistic writing or whatever the hell this actually constitutes. I guess I shouldn't consciously try to write things in that 40 minute benchmark time. Spoiler International Worker's Day It was not a normal day in the life of Terry. No, indeed, it was not. And as she stood there with the hatchet-like blade of the industrial sized meat cleaver in her hands, poised to make the final cut, she realized this and shuddered. Esther Terry was a short order cook in her thirties and lying on her fine establishment’s meat locker floor was a corpse. Rather, it used to be a corpse. Now it was sausage fixings. Rather, it was about to be sausage fixings, once Terry got up the stomach to finish the job. To the casual observer this scene would prompt gasps of revulsion, fear, and probably some form of surprise. Terry had to take this into account when she heard a casual observer enter the meat locker. In a flash of the blood drenched blade the observer was scared to silence. It was her supplier. Terry thought quickly and crafted a lie so beautiful that no one could do anything but believe it. It’d exonerate her and make everything right. If not, then she’d just have more sausages to turn a profit on later. Then she forthrightly told him the truth of the matter. The almost sausage fixings that were up until quite recently a corpse came from an entrepreneur whom Terry had met that afternoon, six or seven hours prior to this happy occasion. He had died earlier that week when he took a few too many sips from the vodka bottle on the ski slopes. When he was first reported missing Terry didn’t care very much for it. Outsiders were always getting lost and occasionally getting dead. It was the natural order of things and it was far from her mind to interfere with the natural order as she had with a very large knife not many moments ago. But in the given situation it was there not here. The supplier, supplied meat among other things, but primarily meat. In the mountains people liked to eat meat. Maybe it was the flavor, maybe it was the ease of conversion from cow or pig to human. The supplier stood just out of blade’s reach from Terry. He’d always wondered about her. Her sanity that was. She was all alone running a restaurant up in the far north and serving meat. Lot of skiers died on the slopes. Lots more had never been found. People are meat too. The supplier would have said that this was a normal day in the life of Terry if he’d forgotten his job. But he hadn’t for the time being forgotten his job. The almost sausage fixings that had just moments ago been rendered into its current state wobbled and jiggled with every step and shout between the two above it. This disturbed the two stamping and shouting above it. The supplier wanted to go home and pretend this was all a dream. Factually, he hadn’t decided this wasn’t a dream yet. Terry wanted to finish making the almost sausage fixings into sausage fixings and pretend this was all a dream. Truthfully, she had discarded all hopes of that happening. So the two continued shouting and stamping as their stomachs quivered in inadvertent disgust. The entrepreneur was originally at the ski lodge near Terry’s fine establishment on a business venture. The venture was a failed one and a spectacularly failed one at that. On his way back to his hotel room where he’d planned on contemplating his suicide after a day’s skiing and businessing the entrepreneur met with an unfortunate accident. Whatever it was it left his body in one piece, perfectly in order to be buried. But it wasn’t buried. Terry came upon it by a miraculous series of happenstances and ended up dragging it back to her fine establishment under the impression that it was a person not a corpse. The supplier had grown more wary of Terry with the recount of her story but also less frightened of the blade wielding short order cook. He could take her if she came at him. There were places to hide and weapons to find. But for now it was best to just leave and stop yelling because the almost sausage fixings kept jiggling. So the supplier announced his departure but Terry would have none of it. She demanded his complicity and threatened his compliance. The supplier was by that time thinking of how to escape. All the routes that had seemed open when she wasn’t telling him to stay closed abruptly to him. Terry had decided to freeze the almost sausage fixings and throw them down the garbage disposal by the time her supplier insisted on leaving but that wouldn’t do at all. She had to find a way to keep him there to ensure his secrecy. But how to achieve it was less clear than the goal itself. So she hopped over the almost sausage fixings and grasped the man by his bony wrist and demanded that he stay and help her hide the evidence. The evidence of what exactly she did not know, but if a human sausage wasn’t suspicious then she’d have no problems. The almost sausage fixings were scraped up off the floor and put back together with the rest of the parts that were once an entrepreneur and thrown into a bag which due to vague concerns was thrown into a another bag and bother were sealed tightly, not in that order precisely. The bags were put into a box and thrown, whilst in said box, into the freezer. The supplier, having done his part, really wanted to leave and keep on thinking that this was all a dream. Terry frowned and allowed him to leave this time. Terry was alone again. Alone, except for the almost sausage fixings that were evidence of something that sat boxed in her freezer. This most certainly was not a normal day in the life of Terry.
That pretty much is the case. For me it all stems from of a lack of faith in the honesty of others and a surfeit of faith in the kindness of...
I guess I just called you a liar then. I'm deeply apologetic now.
Never used rep as approval rating system. Instead it's always been a handy way to get in a word in out of the thread without putting in semi-significant effort. Some people here claim that they approve of my behavior and existence. I think they were lying to me. Here now because I feel an odd obligation. Not expecting it to last much longer.
when they build up the middle of the screen in Tetris?
Interested enough to continue reading. I'm not going to add anything right now because I'm not feeling too observant right now and I tend to withhold judgment until there is more to go on anyways.
Um, whatever you're the first boss *****. I don't need a special power to take your ****.
Read the full post. Looked at the thread. Revised my opinion. You got me.
