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Was active on an intensive Homestuck roleplaying forum for 3ish years in the mid 2010s & I've been chasing the high of that experience ever since.
MiracleJestser if you see this: I miss you, you are one of the best game masters I've ever had.
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The sugarplum fairy fucked me dead
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Wife is starting a new RPG campaign (we are cryptid hunting in the Ozarks) & can't stop telling me details followed by "but your character doesn't know that".
What my character does know is we are seeking the Ozark Howler in Euphoria Springs. The creature is rumored to be at the center of a string of disappearences of local women.
His name is Turbert Dandridge and it is his life's mission to prove the validity of cryptozoology as a study & show his family that he can live up to the family name. (The Dandridge's are said to be said to be descended from Saint George & Turbert is particularly interested in proving the existence of "St. Georges Hound", said to be a naturally armored canine of some sort.)
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I'll say!
You know what Wario. I could deal with the garlic. I could deal with the farting. But I just can't deal with the greed. It's fucking... there's something just twisted about it
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Watching The Fog in a house that the storm is knocking the power out in every 20ish minutes is kind of the mood when watching The Fog in a house that the storm is knocking the power out in every 20ish minutes is the vibe.
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That #relatable feeling when your car breaks down 4+ hours from your house.
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This is omitting my favorite detail which is that each angry comment had 5-12 responses from different people that were all just variations of:
Try looking a little closer ;)
one of my favorite twitter accounts that is defunct now is it was this account called like Crazy Optical Illusions or something and they would just post popular optical illusions but edit them so they werent optical illusions anymore and they would just pretend and people would be very confused / angry in the comments
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Wealwell Gotch being a guy who's weapon of choice is exploding playing cards (which he does not really practice with) is a galaxy brained call from Brennan.
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My job is just the intersection of a venn diagram labeled "not my fault" & "is my problem".
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The concept of a confessions blog as they typically exist kind of annoy me because most of them boil down to "Actually, I don't like a popular element of the thing 🤭". That's an opinion, not a confession.
Horny confession blogs however are morally good.
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The free market has given us so many exciting things to buy. From shoes to paintbrushes to electronic speed controllers, the sea of crap is deep. Once, long ago, "magazines" told primitive humans which of these products would be worth buying.
What few surviving records we have paint the magazine as a sort of flimsy book, capable of being read and then discarded. We do not have records on the kind of people who wrote for these magazines. The active theory is that the patients in mental hospitals were given the task of writing the articles, in exchange for television privileges.
This was required, academics now believe, because magazines needed to come out every single month. Our ancient civilization was too busy driving cars and starting world wars to be able to dedicate that kind of time to doing a tight 800 words on Martha Stewart's new soup in just a few weeks. That name may seem unfamiliar. Martha Stewart was an ancient criminal warlord who stood over an empire of a hundred thousand damned souls in what she called the "Home Shopping Network," itself a prototypical form of today's hypercapitalism.
Some of our researchers, poring over the surviving issues of magazine, have remarked that they wish to create their own independent print periodical. The central planning committee has decided that would be a great idea. Adding a magazine would create a new thing to buy! There is only one problem. Without a magazine, there is no way to know if that magazine is worth purchasing.
In a truly unfortunate twist, a second researcher decided to start a new magazine reviewing other magazines. Then a third offered the concept of a magazine to review magazine review magazines. This created a chain reaction effect, and an entire arcology of researchers had to be scrubbed off the face of the Earth by matter-erasers before the contagion could spread any further. Perhaps we do not need to buy this particular thing.
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Creepypasta about a financial analyst where the big reveal is that the audit they are analyzing was made by a malevolent evil so the formatting is totally fucked up & unreadable
Scared yet?
Well guess what: this isn't a creepypasta, this is real life.
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This is me making a character in any tactical ttrpg. I will be taking my extra square of reach thank you very much.
you know back then there was some guy always recommending the polearm for duels like how people recommend linux today
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I want you to remember:
The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.
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