Official Match Thread Season 37, Second Semi Final: Sin City Swamprats v Dragons FFC at the Underground Stadium

[big_icky]

We've got a prelim final to prepare for.

Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis "the wise"? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life... He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying. The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful... the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. It's ironic he could save others from death, but not himself.

 

[T2B_]

Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis "the wise"? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life... He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying. The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful... the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. It's ironic he could save others from death, but not himself.

Is it possible to learn this power?

 

[big_icky]

Is it possible to learn this power?

Not from a Jedi.

 

[PhenomenalV1]

Is it possible to learn this power?

Not from a Jedi.

 

[PhenomenalV1]

I don't know if you guys heard, but I'm tired of being nice. Gone 10 months with a ruptured triceps tendon, tore it straight off the bone. But I'm still here, and as long as I am, this is the professional wrestling business. It's a business of grown-ups, this has never been a popularity contest. We all know I probably would've lost that one a long time ago.

So tonight, we're going to have a little conversation about the future, but first I would like to have a little conversation about my past, which I don't think is checkered. If you would have told 15 year old me that you're gonna sell out the Budokan, that you're gonna sell out Madison Square Garden, that you're gonna sell out multiple times over every single building in Chicago with a roof, well I'm not sure little Punker would have believed you. That's because he didn't experience what present me, standing here in front of all you crazy bastards has experienced.

I'm tired of being nice! Tell me when I'm telling lies! I did all these things and I got here to this place riding a wave, riding the backs of smart, passionate professional wrestling fans like you. And, oh gosh, I never fit in somewhere more in my entire life than I have here in professional wrestling. I love you for it! I love you because you love me! And you love me because I have never compromised, I've been unapologetic my entire career, I am me! And I couldn't have done all of this without all of you.

But it seems there's some people that hate me for the same reasons you all love me. Hey, listen, I understand that the sheer magnitude of me makes people uncomfortable. I very much understand that my mere presence makes people uncomfortable. That's because I am the truth and the truth is painful.

This sign right here says "CM Punk is my hero", you can call me that. This sign here says "Pepsi Phil", you can call me that. This sign here says "CM Junk", you can call me that. Boo me, cheer me, love me, hate me, you all do it because you know I'm right! You can call me whatever you want, you know what David Zaslav calls me? "One Bill Phil." That's because I am the one true genuine article in a business full of counterfeit bucks!

The king is back, baby. And I do have a lot of things to get off my chest. I got a question, Chicago, and then I'll get out of your hair: why would I change? This is what Joe Strummer trained me for! I will always speak truth to power, I will always be myself, I will never compromise! And there's the people who think that they're owed an apology. I've grown older and wiser in my years, sometimes it's better to be the bigger man. If you feel you're here today and I owe you an apology, here it is: I am sorry that the only people softer than you are the wrestlers you like. TELL ME. WHEN I'M TELLING LIES!

The last time you saw me with my tricep meat hanging down, I held what's in this bag above my head, and it's not because I deserve it, it's because I earned it. And it's not mine because I had "the best Dog Collar match." It's mine because I WON the Dog Collar match! TELL ME WHEN I'M TELLING LIES! This belongs to me until somebody can pin me or submit me for it.

And there are those of you who I'm sure were praying to whatever God you believe in that I'm going to put these down here in this ring and walk into the sunset, never to be seen again. But until there is somebody in this company that can fill these boots, they belong on my feet.

Tell me when I'm telling lies.

 

[Bradesmaen]

 

[Bonz]

We've got a prelim final to prepare for.

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[Bonz]

I don't know if you guys heard, but I'm tired of being nice. Gone 10 months with a ruptured triceps tendon, tore it straight off the bone. But I'm still here, and as long as I am, this is the professional wrestling business. It's a business of grown-ups, this has never been a popularity contest. We all know I probably would've lost that one a long time ago.

So tonight, we're going to have a little conversation about the future, but first I would like to have a little conversation about my past, which I don't think is checkered. If you would have told 15 year old me that you're gonna sell out the Budokan, that you're gonna sell out Madison Square Garden, that you're gonna sell out multiple times over every single building in Chicago with a roof, well I'm not sure little Punker would have believed you. That's because he didn't experience what present me, standing here in front of all you crazy bastards has experienced.

I'm tired of being nice! Tell me when I'm telling lies! I did all these things and I got here to this place riding a wave, riding the backs of smart, passionate professional wrestling fans like you. And, oh gosh, I never fit in somewhere more in my entire life than I have here in professional wrestling. I love you for it! I love you because you love me! And you love me because I have never compromised, I've been unapologetic my entire career, I am me! And I couldn't have done all of this without all of you.

But it seems there's some people that hate me for the same reasons you all love me. Hey, listen, I understand that the sheer magnitude of me makes people uncomfortable. I very much understand that my mere presence makes people uncomfortable. That's because I am the truth and the truth is painful.

This sign right here says "CM Punk is my hero", you can call me that. This sign here says "Pepsi Phil", you can call me that. This sign here says "CM Junk", you can call me that. Boo me, cheer me, love me, hate me, you all do it because you know I'm right! You can call me whatever you want, you know what David Zaslav calls me? "One Bill Phil." That's because I am the one true genuine article in a business full of counterfeit bucks!

The king is back, baby. And I do have a lot of things to get off my chest. I got a question, Chicago, and then I'll get out of your hair: why would I change? This is what Joe Strummer trained me for! I will always speak truth to power, I will always be myself, I will never compromise! And there's the people who think that they're owed an apology. I've grown older and wiser in my years, sometimes it's better to be the bigger man. If you feel you're here today and I owe you an apology, here it is: I am sorry that the only people softer than you are the wrestlers you like. TELL ME. WHEN I'M TELLING LIES!

The last time you saw me with my tricep meat hanging down, I held what's in this bag above my head, and it's not because I deserve it, it's because I earned it. And it's not mine because I had "the best Dog Collar match." It's mine because I WON the Dog Collar match! TELL ME WHEN I'M TELLING LIES! This belongs to me until somebody can pin me or submit me for it.

And there are those of you who I'm sure were praying to whatever God you believe in that I'm going to put these down here in this ring and walk into the sunset, never to be seen again. But until there is somebody in this company that can fill these boots, they belong on my feet.

Tell me when I'm telling lies.

⠐⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠂
⠄⠄⣰⣾⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣆⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠄⡀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠋⣉⣉⣉⡉⠙⠻⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣇⠔⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⢉⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⡀⠹⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⠃⠄⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⠟⢁⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⡿⠁⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠗⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⡿⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠄⠄⠄⣠⣄⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠄⠄
⠄⠄⡿⠁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⢀⡴⠚⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⢠⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠃⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⠴⠋⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣾⠄⠄
⠄⠄⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠈⠁⠄⠄⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢀⣾⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⢶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⢀⣾⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⣠⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢁⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⢁⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⠗⠄⠄⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣆⠈⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⣉⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠠⠺⣷⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣿⣿⣦⣄⣈⣉⣉⣉⣡⣤⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠉⠁⣀⣼⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⡿⠟⠄⠄
⠠⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄

 

[Bonz]

Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis "the wise"? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life... He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying. The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful... the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. It's ironic he could save others from death, but not himself.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣶⡾⠏⠉⠙⠳⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢠⠞⠉⠙⠲⡀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⣴⠿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⡀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢷
⠀⠀⢠⣟⣋⡀⢀⣀⣀⡀⠀⣀⡀⣧⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇
⠀⠀⢸⣯⡭⠁⠸⣛⣟⠆⡴⣻⡲⣿⠀⣸⠀⠀OK⠀ ⡇
⠀⠀⣟⣿⡭⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢱⠀⠀⣿⠀⢹⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⡇
⠀⠀⠙⢿⣯⠄⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⡿⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⡼
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣶⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡴⠃⠀⠀⠘⠤⣄⣠⠞⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣷⡦⢤⡤⢤⣞⣁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⢀⣤⣴⣿⣏⠁⠀⠀⠸⣏⢯⣷⣖⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⢀⣾⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⠛⢲⣶⣾⢉⡷⣿⣿⠵⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣼⣿⠍⠉⣿⡭⠉⠙⢺⣇⣼⡏⠀⠀⠀⣄⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣧⣀⣿.........⣀⣰⣏⣘⣆⣀⠀⠀

 

[big_icky]

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⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠤⠄⠒⠒⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠐⠒⠒⠒⠂⠤⣤⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢻⠒⠤⢀⣀⣀⡀⠄⠄⠠⠠⠤⠤⠤⠒⠊⡸⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠸⡀⠄⠄⢀⠄⠂⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡰⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠱⡀⠈⠄⠄⢀⣀⣤⣊⣀⣀⣀⠄⡰⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠻⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢹⣫⣙⣛⣛⣛⣿⣟⣻⡻⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⡟⣯⣽⣾⣿⣟⣻⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⣹⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣀⡼⠋⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡠⠞⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⠶⠋⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⠴⠛⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⢀⣀⣀⡤⠤⠖⠛⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄oil floats on water⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀

⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⢶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣯⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣫⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣋⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⣋⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⡿⣛⣫⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣭⣾⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣭⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⡿⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⢫⣾⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣾⣷⣿⣟⣿⣞⣽⣿⣟⣾⡿⣫⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⡉⡉⣶⠤⠄⠤⠹⠯⠭⠝⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣭⣾⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⠏⠄⠄⢘⣥⣤⡤⢄⡀⠄⠄⢂⣀⣈⠄⠄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⢟⡿⣷⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⢿⣽⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⡿⢋⡤⣲⠬⣘⣫⠽⠛⠺⠓⠄⢲⠟⠛⡋⣉⣁⡄⢽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣵⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⢍⣾⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⡤⠻⠐⢯⡓⢦⣄⣀⡀⣖⠦⠄⡈⣹⠦⠍⣡⣧⠈⡾⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠘⢶⠄⠈⢿⣹⢷⣤⣼⡉⠓⠒⠛⡗⠒⣎⣯⣿⢸⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠣⡀⠄⠙⠦⣀⡏⠙⠛⡟⢻⡿⢿⢿⣿⡿⢸⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠈⣒⣷⣣⠔⢭⠙⡒⠳⠾⠶⠟⢛⠩⠄⠘⡁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣠⠟⠁⣿⠈⠿⡷⢦⣈⣁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠁⣰⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⡴⠛⠁⠄⠄⣷⠄⠄⠙⢦⠄⠄⠉⠉⠓⠒⠊⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⠄⠄⠄⠈⢷⡀⠄⣀⠄⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠄⡤⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠄⢀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢧⠄ ⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄wait for it to rain
⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠸⠇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ cover yourself in oil
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣤⠖⠒⠒⣒⠶⠒⠒⠲⠶⠒⣶⣶⣤⠤⣤⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡰⠟⠄⠠⣐⠹⠦⠉⠒⠒⢀⠁⠐⠒⠂⠤⠄⠍⡀⠓⢦⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⡞⠄⠄⠄⣀⢨⣾⣿⣿⣛⡳⣦⠄⢀⣘⣤⣴⣦⣦⡄⠄⢘⢧⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡜⠋⣴⠞⢻⡛⠶⠦⠴⠞⠄⠈⠙⠋⠄⠈⢹⡉⠉⢀⣀⣴⠶⠕⡁⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢇⠄⢧⠒⢻⡉⠓⢶⣄⣀⡀⠐⣟⣫⣤⠄⠈⣹⠷⠄⡈⢁⣧⢐⡣⡿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠻⣆⠄⠄⠙⣯⢻⠷⣦⣤⣿⡉⠛⢛⠒⠻⣶⠒⢺⣏⣿⣿⠄⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⢧⡈⠄⠈⠛⣄⡀⣹⠟⠛⠛⢿⠿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠄⠄⠹⢶⣗⣴⡢⠉⡛⠶⢤⠤⣿⣀⣼⣡⡼⣥⠿⠾⠃⠄⢈⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠈⠉⠘⠚⠮⣍⡐⠄⠂⠤⠉⠙⠓⢒⢀⡨⢒⡴⣼⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡴⢛⠟⠛⢿⠶⠤⣤⣀⣄⣀⣠⣷⠞⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡴⠋⢀⡞⠄⠄⠄⢷⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣹⠄⠄⠄⢀⣤⠚⠄⠄⡼⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⠳⣤⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡾⠃⠄⠄⢰⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⣧⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠁⠄⠄⠄⢸⠁⠄⣴⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠄⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢼⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣏⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⡆⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣏⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠄⠄⠄⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠄⠄⣠⣿⣀⠄⠄⠄⣹⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⠋⠄⠄⠄⠙⢶⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢰⠟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠹⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣧⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
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⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣰⠏⠄⠠⠄⠠⢤⣤⡴⠄⣀⣄⠈⣷⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⢀⠄⠏⠄⠄⠐⠃⠄⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠄⠈⠐⠛⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄

⣀⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⠶⠤⠤⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠄⢀⠄⢀⣀⣀⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣀⢀⣀⣀⣠⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢴⣴⠶⠚⠉⠁⠘⠓⠋⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⢶⣤⣠⡖⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠐⠂⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⠗⠄⠄⠄⠖⡭⠭⠿⢅⡠⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠄⠄⠄⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠰⠾⢿⠄⣄⣀⣸⢸⣸⠄⠄⢂⠱⢆⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡈⠉⠄⠄⠄⠁⣲⠆⣀⣀⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢈⣱⣟⢥⣿⡸⠤⢆⡀⠄⡰⠌⡁⠠⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠄⠄⠠⠄⠄⠙⠃⠉⠓⠂⢓⠦⣤⣆⡤⠴⡒⠒⠚⠉⢀⣰⠈⢶⣧⠄⢳⣄⣠⡖⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠛⠻⠶⠤⠤⠛⠙⠂⠉⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠃⣿⣄⠄⠢⠓⠈⢛⠕⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠗⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠄⠄⠄⠠⢀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄fly⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⣤⣤⣤⣤⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿⡿⣷
⠄⣿⣾⡤⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣶⣾⣿⣿⣷⣶⠄⠄⣿⣿⡗⣿
⠄⣿⣾⣶⣟⣀⣤⣤⣤⣾⢿⡿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⣶⣦⣶⣶⣤⣿⣿⣏⣹⣏⣿⠄⠄⣿⣿⡗⣿
⣠⣿⣿⣦⣿⢿⣹⣏⣿⣿⢾⡷⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣶⢶⡷⣷⡆⠄⠄⢹⣧⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣯⣹⣏⣿⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣉⣯⣹⣿⢾⡷⣿⠄⠄⣤⣶⡦⠄⠄⣿⢻⡗⣿⠄⠄⠄⢺⣍⣿⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⣏⣹⣏⣿⣆⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣿⣄⢀⣿⣿⣤⠂⠄⣿⢻⡟⣿⡆⠄⠄⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

 

[serial_thrilla]

I have a morning ritual that I need to share. I call it "the terminator". First I crouch down in the shower in the classic "naked terminator traveling through time" pose. With my eyes closed I crouch there for a minute, visualizing either Arnold or the guy from the second movie (not the chick in the third one because that one sucked) and I start to hum the terminator theme. Then I slowly rise to a standing position and open my eyes. It helps me to proceed through my day as an emotionless, cyborg badass. The only problem is if the shower curtain sticks to my terminator leg. It ruins the fantasy.

 

[serial_thrilla]

Here's the thing. You said a "wyvern is a dragon." Is it in the same family? Yes. No one's arguing that. As someone who is a 1k MMR feeder who studies dragons, I am telling you, specifically, in dota, no one calls wyverns dragons. If you want to be "specific" like you said, then you shouldn't either. They're not the same thing. If you're saying "dragon family" you're referring to the taxonomic grouping of Varanidae, which includes things from wyverns to eldwurms to drakes. So your reasoning for calling a wyvern a dragon is because random people "call the flying lizards dragons?" Let's get gyarados and charizards in there, then, too. Also, calling someone a noob or a feeder? It's not one or the other, that's not how taxonomy works. They're both. A wyvern is a wyvern and a member of the dragon family. But that's not what you said. You said a wyvern is a dragon, which is not true unless you're okay with calling all members of the dragon family dragons, which means you'd call eldwurms, drakes, and other flying lizards dragons, too. Which you said you don't. It's okay to just admit you're wrong, you know?

 

[big_icky]

Here's the thing. You said a "wyvern is a dragon." Is it in the same family? Yes. No one's arguing that. As someone who is a 1k MMR feeder who studies dragons, I am telling you, specifically, in dota, no one calls wyverns dragons. If you want to be "specific" like you said, then you shouldn't either. They're not the same thing. If you're saying "dragon family" you're referring to the taxonomic grouping of Varanidae, which includes things from wyverns to eldwurms to drakes. So your reasoning for calling a wyvern a dragon is because random people "call the flying lizards dragons?" Let's get gyarados and charizards in there, then, too. Also, calling someone a noob or a feeder? It's not one or the other, that's not how taxonomy works. They're both. A wyvern is a wyvern and a member of the dragon family. But that's not what you said. You said a wyvern is a dragon, which is not true unless you're okay with calling all members of the dragon family dragons, which means you'd call eldwurms, drakes, and other flying lizards dragons, too. Which you said you don't. It's okay to just admit you're wrong, you know?

Please DO NOT buy the BTS meal if you don't stan them. You're preventing the actual BTS fans who have waited for months from having the BTS meal experience. Eating the sauces without understanding their significance is literally cultural appropriation and it's not okay

 

[serial_thrilla]

Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels. Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is the “loser,” and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round. I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world. Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment. When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3×5 card reading, “Please use this M&M for breeding purposes.” This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this “grant money.” I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion. There can be only one.

 

[Bonz]

Hello, I am currently 33 years old and I want to become a walrus. I know there's a million people out there just like me, but I promise you I'm different. On December 14th, I'm moving to Antarctica; home of the greatest walri. I've already cut off my arms, and now slide on my stomach everywhere I go as training. I may not be a walrus yet, but I promise you if you give me a chance and the support I need, I will become the greatest walrus ever. Thank you all.

 

[Ljp86]

Thanks T2B_. I just want to give you a bit of an insight into the Dragons team. We’re a bunch of unique individuals – Greenery, Bonz, Pie 4 Life, Supersuns and myself. We’re gonna engage with our minds and our hearts. We’re gonna exchange ideas, thoughts and even our energy. And to speak from your heart you need to have courage. You need to be honest and authentic. We’re not always gonna get it right. And sometimes, you’re not going to agree with us. But that’s okay, because just like you we care. Just like you, we’re passionate about the game. So if you want to come along for the ride, join us at Dragons FFC, because we just love the qooty.

Great post serial_thrilla. Really good.

I have a giggle because my son and all his mates, they already know it off by heart. They throw a fair bit of stick around it.

I walk around the boundary and someone yells ‘Thanks T2B_!' It’s funny how it’s - you were fair dinkum!

I’ve copped a bit of stick over the last 5 minutes, but I guess you actually weren't taking the piss at all, it’s fair dinkum.

Thanks for the feedback! It's awesome to hear that your son and his friends are enjoying it so much. And don't worry about the stick you've been getting, sounds like it's all in good fun!

In the bustling town of Sweet, nestled between rolling hills and lush forests, there stood a qootball team known as the Dragons. At the heart of this team were two best friends, serial_thrilla and Greenery.

Serial_thrilla, with his quick wit and lightning-fast reflexes, was the star player of the team. His precision on the field was matched only by his passion for the game. Greenery, on the other hand, was the team's captain and midfield maestro. With his calm demeanor and strategic mind, he orchestrated plays with finesse, earning him the respect of his teammates and opponents alike.

Together, Serial_thrilla and Greenery led the Dragons to victory after victory, their bond on and off the field unbreakable. But their journey wasn't without its challenges.

During one particularly tough season, the Dragons found themselves facing off against their arch-rivals, the Rats, in the semi final. The pressure was on, and tensions ran high as the game reached its climax.

With minutes left on the clock and the score tied, Serial_thrilla received the ball near the Rats' goal. With a swift move, he ran past defenders, his eyes fixed on the prize. But just as he was about to take the shot, he stumbled, the weight of the moment almost overwhelming.

Seeing his friend in trouble, Greenery sprang into action. With a perfectly timed pass, he delivered the ball to Serial_thrilla, giving him the opportunity he needed. With a determined look in his eyes, Serial_thrilla unleashed a powerful shot that soared past the goal umpire, sealing the Dragons' victory.

As the final whistle blew, the stadium erupted into cheers, and Serial_thrilla and Greenery embraced, their bond stronger than ever. Together, they had overcome every obstacle, proving that with teamwork and determination, anything was possible.

From that day on, Serial_thrilla, Greenery, and the Dragons became legends in their town, their story a testament to the power of friendship and the beautiful game of qootball.

The REAL Dragons are coming

I just wanna say to you bunch of pretenders... The REAL Dragons are coming to town. That's right... the Dragon machine - the REAL Dragons.. are coming to burst your bubble. One good season and you pathetic lot think you are premiership material? Ha ha ha.... What a joke. We are crippled with injuries but still have the talent to make you lot look like the magoos team that you really are !! We the mighty Dragons FFC will run over the top of you lot like a school bully taking some kids lollies.... We are coming over there for the easiest four points we will pick up all season.... In fact - we could probably send our magoos team to do a number on you lot but then why embarrass the SFA by doing that?? Probably no Lbaddie29.... and no A Swallow either - but we don't need them to put you pretenders back in the box you crawled out of... BIG ground the Underground - nowhere for you to hide either... So train your little rat legs off this week... Enjoy your training sessions Rats... But come the weekend.... WE will let you warm up on the Underground before we start the massacre of The Pretenders. The Dragons FFC machine will roll on in S37 and you just don't have the ability, the will or courage to stop our brilliant Club from rolling further into the finals. See you on the weekend losers... WE - THE MIGHTY DRAGONS FFC will belt you back to reality. Don't say your weren't warned.

DRAGONS FFC

Found an excerpt of a 5AA caller from Alberton lambasting the Swamprats' efforts on Sunday.

The players don't care. They don't give a swamprat's backside. They don't wanna chase, they don't wanna play. You have jackster83 before the game saying that "no one in the club listens to outside noise." Maybe you should, maybe you should. Maybe the coaching panel, the players, the LG must listen to us supporters. We've got 88 thousand- almost NINETY thousand members. You want us to sign up next year? Bloody show us something! Show us the heart! Last year we gave you the excuse "we had an injury-depleted midfield and we just missed out." We thought this year we'd go again. What's the excuse!? If you're not gonna play- I said it a few weeks ago- If you're not gonna play for the coach, play for people like myself! Who bust my balls every week to get there, hard earned money, and you dish that up against THE OLD BOYS!? They toyed with us. It's an embarrassment for the Red and White and especially the emblem. THE EMBLEM! Play for that! If you're not gonna play for that, piss off outta my club! GET OUT!

I saw damicky at a grocery store in Alberton yesterday. I told him how cool it was to meet him in person, but I didn’t want to be a douche and bother him and ask him for photos or anything. He said, “Oh, like you’re doing now?” I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but he kept cutting me off and going “huh? huh? huh?” and closing his hand shut in front of my face. I walked away and continued with my shopping, and I heard him chuckle as I walked off. When I came to pay for my stuff up front I saw him trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen Milky Ways in his hands without paying.

The girl at the counter was very nice about it and professional, and was like “Sir, you need to pay for those first.” At first he kept pretending to be tired and not hear her, but eventually turned back around and brought them to the counter.

When she took one of the bars and started scanning it multiple times, he stopped her and told her to scan them each individually “to prevent any electrical infetterence,” and then turned around and winked at me. I don’t even think that’s a word. After she scanned each bar and put them in a bag and started to say the price, he kept interrupting her by yawning really loudly.

I met philreich at a restaurant once - we’d accidentally been given his table. Apparently he was fond of the restaurant and had a specific table he liked, and the management had messed up and gotten their days wrong, (it was Tuesday and they thought he was coming on Thursday or something like that). Anyway, the manager, completely embarrassed (this is a pretty nice restaurant) comes by and says “I’m so sorry, but we’d like to move you to another table if you could be troubled, and we’ll gladly compensate you for the cost of the meal and any other meal you’d like while you’re in town.” Greenery and PhenomenalV1 were both like “Yeah that’s cool.” and I kind of played the a****** a bit. “I’m sorry, I just don’t understand. We’ve been here for 15 minutes - we’ve just ordered. Can’t we finish our meal here?” Then out of nowhere philreich shows up next to the manager and says “Paul, these guys can finish. We’ll be at the bar. I got some time.” And I (being a big dad jokes fan) said “Oh wow, uh… I had no idea. Please feel free to give them the table.” philreich was grateful, shook my hand and said thanks, then gave me a card with his number on it and told me to give him a call later. After working up the nerve, I gave him a call that night, and to make a long story short, we had a glorious 11 month love affair, man on man, that I shall never forget. Our bodies intertwined as one, and from the beauty of Morocco, to the French Riviera, to the snorkeling in the Galopagos, philreich and I made glorious gay love to each other on six of the seven continents.

This reminded me of the time when Gavrilo Princip, a Bosnian Serb Yugoslav nationalist, assassinated the Austro-Hungarian heir Archduke Franz Ferdinand in Sarajevo, leading to the July Crisis. In response, on 23 July Austria-Hungary issued an ultimatum to Serbia. Serbia’s reply failed to satisfy the Austrians, and the two moved to a war footing. A network of interlocking alliances enlarged the crisis from a bilateral issue in the Balkans to one involving most of Europe. By July 1914, the great powers of Europe were divided into two coalitions: the Triple Entente—consisting of France, Russia, and Britain—and the Triple Alliance of Germany, Austria-Hungary, and Italy (the Triple Alliance was only defensive in nature, allowing Italy to stay out of the war until April 1915, when it joined the Allied Powers after its relations with Austria-Hungary deteriorated). Russia felt it necessary to back Serbia and, after Austria-Hungary shelled the Serbian capital of Belgrade on the 28th, approved partial mobilisation. Full Russian mobilisation was announced on the evening of 30 July; on the 31st, Austria-Hungary and Germany did the same, while Germany demanded Russia demobilise within twelve hours. When Russia failed to comply, Germany declared war on Russia on 1 August in support of Austria-Hungary, with Austria-Hungary following suit on the 6th; France ordered full mobilisation in support of Russia on 2 August. German strategy for a war on two fronts against France and Russia was to rapidly concentrate the bulk of its army in the West to defeat France within six weeks, then shift forces to the East before Russia could fully mobilise; this was later known as the Schlieffen Plan. On 2 August, Germany demanded free passage through Belgium, an essential element in achieving a quick victory over France. When this was refused, German forces invaded Belgium on 3 August and declared war on France the same day; the Belgian government invoked the 1839 Treaty of London and in compliance with its obligations under this, Britain declared war on Germany on 4 August. On 12 August, Britain and France also declared war on Austria-Hungary; on the 23rd, Japan sided with Britain, seizing German possessions in China and the Pacific. In November 1914, the Ottoman Empire entered the war on the side of the Central Powers, opening fronts in the Caucasus, Mesopotamia, and the Sinai Peninsula. The war was fought in and drew upon each power’s colonial empire as well, spreading the conflict to Africa and across the globe. The Entente and its allies would eventually become known as the Allied Powers, while the grouping of Austria-Hungary, Germany and their allies would become known as the Central Powers. The German advance into France was halted at the Battle of the Marne and by the end of 1914, the Western Front settled into a battle of attrition, marked by a long series of trench lines that changed little until 1917 (the Eastern Front, by contrast, was marked by much greater exchanges of territory). In 1915, Italy joined the Allied Powers and opened a front in the Alps. Bulgaria joined the Central Powers in 1915 and Greece joined the Allies in 1917, expanding the war in the Balkans. The United States initially remained neutral, though even while neutral it became an important supplier of war materiel to the Allies. Eventually, after the sinking of American merchant ships by German submarines, the declaration by Germany that its navy would resume unrestricted attacks on neutral shipping, and the revelation that Germany was trying to incite Mexico to make war on the United States, the U.S. declared war on Germany on 6 April 1917. Trained American forces would not begin arriving at the front in large numbers until mid-1918, but ultimately the American Expeditionary Force would reach some two million troops. Though Serbia was defeated in 1915, and Romania joined the Allied Powers in 1916 only to be defeated in 1917, none of the great powers were knocked out of the war until 1918. The 1917 February Revolution in Russia replaced the Tsarist autocracy with the Provisional Government, but continuing discontent with the cost of the war led to the October Revolution, the creation of the Soviet Socialist Republic, and the signing of the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk by the new government in March 1918, ending Russia’s involvement in the war. This allowed the transfer of large numbers of German troops from the East to the Western Front, resulting in the German March 1918 Offensive. This offensive was initially successful, but failed to score a decisive victory and exhausted the last of the German reserves. The Allies rallied and drove the Germans back in their Hundred Days Offensive, a continual series of attacks to which the Germans had no reply. Bulgaria was the first Central Power to sign an armistice—the Armistice of Salonica on 29 September 1918. On 30 October, the Ottoman Empire capitulated, signing the Armistice of Mudros. On 4 November, the Austro-Hungarian empire agreed to the Armistice of Villa Giusti. With its allies defeated, revolution at home, and the military no longer willing to fight, Kaiser Wilhelm abdicated on 9 November and Germany signed an armistice on 11 November 1918, effectively ending the war.

If the Swamprats try to start a fight on the qooty field this weekend? Here is what you do, my friends.

Bring your chin down to protect your neck while continuing to stare in their eyes. Bring up your hands and say "I don't want no trouble ya hear". Flex your traps and core. Slightly bend your knees.

Here comes the important part. In a low voice begin to say "wolowolowolowolowolo" slowly increasing in volume. They should be surprised by now. Begin to sway side to side and loosen all facial muscles and your anal sphincter and your kegal muscle. By now you should be pretty loud and your opponent will have stepped back and appear visibly shaken.

Begin to piss and shit yourself and let your eyes roll to the back of your head. By now, you're chanting "WOLOWOLOWOLOWOLO" at the top of your lungs.

They will run away. Everyone within a one mile radius will feel a terrifying presence within their soul.

Marvel as you ascend into your planar form.

After a long, hard day of work nothing beats an ice cold beer. Cool, refreshing, light. None of that fancy stuff, just a tall can of Miller. Mid-shelf beer. They have it at the corner store. I don't keep any in the house. If I have it I'll drink it. I'll drink too much. I don't want them to see me drinking too much. I still have pride. I put tape over my webcam so they don't see me at all, but I think they have cameras somewhere else in the house. They definitely have listening devices. My smoke detector is a microphone, pretty sure. It's wired into the house but still needs a battery. That's suspicious. It only seems to beep when I'm having a good day. I think they want me to always have bad days. I think they want me to drink too much. I'm not going to do it, though. I only buy one can at a time. I never grab the can from the front of the line. It may be poisoned. I always grab my can from further back. Maybe the second one, maybe the fourth one. Sometimes I ask for one from the back room. I trust the guy at the corner store. I don't think he's with them. Once I grabbed a beer from the front. I felt very sleepy after drinking that one. One moment I'm watching the television, next moment I open my eyes and I'm on the floor. I couldn't move. I could see the sound of them bubbling up through the floor. Whatever they gave me gave them away. They live in my walls. They control the wires. When I grab a beer from the front they control me. I couldn't move. I thought if I could move my fingertips I'd be free. My fingers didn't move. They were holding a beer. An ice cold beer. I like having one at the end of the day after working hard. I work hard a lot. My shoulder hurts. My knees ache. Nothing a tall beer won't make feel better. I feel good when I drink beer. I feel alive. I don't know what being dead feels like, but I know how it feels to be alive. It feels like drinking a cold beer. People say not to drink alone. I'm never alone. They live in my walls. They come out at night when I'm sleeping and move my groceries. I can never find the goddamn cereal. I can find the beer, though. It's at the corner store. It's always there, like a mighty lighthouse. God, I love drinking a beer after a long day of work. I feel good when I drink beer.

Rats. And rats make him crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy. Crazy? I was crazy once. They locked me in a room. A rubber room. A rubber room filled with rats. And rats make me crazy.

You know they say all men are created equal, but you look at me and you look at Samoa Joe and you can see that statement is NOT TRUE!

See, normally if you go one-on-one with another wrestler you got a 50/50 chance of winning. But I'm a genetic freak, and I'm not normal! So you got a 25% at best at beat me!

And then you add Kurt Angle to the mix?! Your chances of winning drastic go down. See, the three-way at Sacrifice, you got a 33 1/3 chance of winning. But I—I got a 66 2/3 chance of winning, 'cause Kurt Angle KNOOOWS he can't beat me, and he's not even gonna try!

So Samoa Joe, you take your 33 1/3 chance minus my 25% chance, and you got an 8 1/3 chance of winning at Sacrifice. But then you take my 75% chance of winning (if we was to go one on one), and then add 66 2/3 chan—percents... I got a 141 2/3 chance of winning at Sacrifice!

Señor Joe, the numbers don't lie, and they spell disaster for you at Sacrifice!

John Cena, while you lay there, hopefully as uncomfortable as you possibly can be, I want you to listen to me. I want you to digest this because before I leave in 3 weeks with your WWE Championship, I have a lot of things I want to get off my chest.

I don't hate you, John. I don’t even dislike you. I do like you. I like you a hell of a lot more than I like most people in the back. I hate this idea that you're the best. Because you're not. I'm the best. I'm the best in the world. There's one thing you're better at than I am: And that's kissing Vince McMahon's ass. You're as good as kissing Vince McMahon's ass as Hulk Hogan was. I don't know if you're as good as 'Dwayne' though. He's a pretty good ass kisser. Always was and still is. Whoops, I'm Breaking the Fourth Wall...

I am the best wrestler in the world. I've been the best since day one when I walked into this company. And I've been vilified and hated since that day because Paul Heyman saw something in me that nobody else wanted to admit. That's right, I'm a Paul Heyman guy. You know who else was a Paul Heyman guy? Brock Lesnar. And he split, just like I'm splitting. But the biggest difference between me and Brock is I'm going to leave with the WWE Championship.

I've grabbed so many of Vincent K. McMahon's imaginary brass rings that it's finally dawned on me that they're just that: they're completely imaginary. The only thing that's real is me and the fact that day in and day out, for almost six years, I have proved to everybody in the world that I am the best on this microphone, in that ring, even on commentary! Nobody can touch me! And yet, no how—no matter how many times I prove it... I'm not on your lovely little collector cups, I'm not on the cover of the program, I'm barely promoted, I don't get to be in movies, and I'm certainly not on any crappy show on the USA Network. I'm not on the poster of WrestleMania, I'm not on the signature that's produced at the start of the show. I'm not on Conan O'Brien, I'm not on Jimmy Fallon, but the fact of the matter is I should be. And trust me, this isn't sour grapes. But the fact that 'Dwayne' is in the main event at WrestleMania next year and I'm not makes me sick!

Oh hey, let me get something straight: Those of you who are cheering me right now, you are just as big a part of me leaving as anything else! Because you're the ones who are sipping on those collector cups right now. You're the ones that buy those programs that my face isn't on the cover of. And then at 5 in the morning at the airport, you try to shove it in my face and get an autograph and try to sell it on eBay because you're too lazy to go get a real job.

I'm leaving with the WWE Championship on July 17th. And hell, who knows, maybe I'll go defend it in New Japan Pro-Wrestling. Maybe...I'll go back to Ring of Honor.

Hey, Colt Cabana, how you doing?

The reason I'm leaving is you people. Because after I'm gone, you're still going to pour money into this company. I'm just a spoke on the wheel, the wheel is going to keep turning, I understand that. But Vince McMahon is going to make money despite himself. He's a millionaire who should be a billionaire. You know why he's not a billionaire? Because he surrounds himself with glad-handed, non-sensical, douchebag yes men, like John Laurinaitis, who's going to tell him everything he wants to hear. And I'd like to think that maybe this company will better after Vince McMahon's dead. But the fact is, it's—it's going to be taken over by his idiotic daughter and his doofus son-in-law and the rest of his stupid family. Let me tell you a personal story about Vince McMahon, all right? Here we're doing this whole bullying campaign—

The first thing I want to be done is to get that piece of crap out of FF. Don't just get him out off the field, get him out of the SFA because I'll prove, son, without a shadow of a doubt, that you ain't got what it takes anymore! You sit there, and you thump your SweetFA.plus page, and you say your prayers to yourself, and it didn't get you anywhere. Talk about your goals, talk about okeydoke7 this that - T2B_ SAYS I'LL JUST WHIP YOUR ASS! All he's gotta do is go buy him a cheap bottle of Thunderbird and try to get back some of that courage he had in his prime. As the King of the FBs, I'm servin' notice to every one of the 'SFA superstar FFs.' I don't give a damn what they are, they're all on the list, and that's T2B_'s list, and I'm fixin' to start runnin' through all of them. As far as this match is considered, son, I don't give a damn if it's Brenton Davy or okeydoke7 . T2B's time has come, and when I get the shot, you're lookin' at the next FB Champion, and that's the bottom line because T2B_ said so!

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Can we back Ned_Flanders instead?

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A typical day at Dragon island with T2B_

(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ FLIP THAT TABLE.
┻━┻ ︵ ヽ(°□°ヽ) FLIP THIS TABLE.
┻━┻ ︵ ＼\('0')/／ ︵ ┻━┻ FLIP ALL THE TABLES
ಠಠ T2B_ ... ಠಠ Put. ಠಠ The tables. ಠ__ಠ Back.
(╮°-°)╮┳━┳
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ NEVER!!!!

What the ** did you just ***ing say about me, you little shit? Ill have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and Ive been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and Im the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the * out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my ****ing words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, ****er. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. Youre ****ing dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and thats just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little clever comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your ****ing tongue. But you couldnt, you didnt, and now youre paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. Youre ****ing dead, kiddo.

The REAL Dragons are coming

I just wanna say to you bunch of pretenders... The REAL Dragons are coming to town. That's right... the Dragon FFC machine - the REAL Dragons.. are coming to burst your bubble. One good season and you pathetic Rats think you are premiership material? Ha ha ha.... What a joke. We are crippled with injuries but still have the talent to make you lot look like the SFA Reserves team that you really are !! We the mighty Dragons will run over the top of you lot like a school bully taking some kids lollies.... We are coming over there for the easiest win we will pick up all season.... In fact - we could probably send our Reserves team to do a number on you lot but then why embarrass the SFA by doing that?? Probably no Mooresome .... and no VandoHawk either - but we don't need them to put you pretenders back in the box you crawled out of... BIG ground the Underground Stadium - nowhere for you to hide either... So train your little seagull legs off this week... Enjoy your training sessions Seagulls... But come the weekend.... WE will let you warm up on the Underground Stadium before we start the massacre of The Rat Pretenders. The Dragon machine will roll on in Season 37 and you just don't have the ability, the will or courage to stop our brilliant Club from rolling into the prelim finals. See you on the weekend losers... WE - THE MIGHTY DRAGONS FFC will belt you back to reality. Don't say your weren't warned.

DRAGONS.

Me and My girlfriend had a heated argument last night after she confronted me about what she considered “fishy behavior” and suspects I’m cheating, which has upset me because I pride myself on not being a cheater, in both relationships and SFA teams.

It started when she noticed I put her on do not disturb late one night when I told her I was asleep, but really I was posting on BigFooty and really had to dial in since I had just read the main board without being intoxicated (rookie mistake I know)
Then She noticed I was on Snapchat at 4 A.M. one night after I told her I was asleep and figured I was snapping another girl, but really I was showing my SFA buddies my mad Gif skills.

Then the other day when I was leaving her house she saw me check my phone and smile immediately after getting in my car and again assumed adultery but really Bonz had just posted and I went to check and was smiling cause it was once again that Gif of serial_thrilla getting kicked in the balls.
It all culminated yesterday when I wouldn’t let her see what I was doing on my phone cause I was posting in a match thread, and she flipped out on me.
I haven’t told her cause she doesn’t like when I post on Bigfooty ever since she was watching me interact with the SFA and noticed I had modelled my persona after my ex. (I’m not still into my ex or anything cause she’s pretty gross, but when we were dating we mashed avocados between our bodies during love making which gave like 10x the orgasms, so I still do it every run of posting for good luck). I explained this to my girlfriend at the time but she didn’t care, and when i showed her to make her feel better she just got more angry and made me switch to BigSoccer for a year.

I’m really hurt and torn over this and I don’t know how to fix things. I obviously don’t want to lose my girlfriend but I don’t want to tell her truth because I’m afraid she will make me switch to BigSoccer again and BigSoccer is the actual worst.
If anyone has had a similar problem I would really appreciate some advice as I’m really messed up about this and I don’t think I’ll be able to get my endless run off the ground with all this terrible stress going on in my life.

I have noticed that, although this thread has 11 watchers, I am not receiving 11 reacts on my posts. I'm not sure if this is being done intentionally or if these "friends" are forgetting to click 'like'. Either way, I've had enough. I have compiled a spreadsheet of individuals who have "forgotten" to react my most recent posts. After 2 consecutive strikes, your name is automatically highlighted (shown in red) and I am immediately notified. 3 consecutive strikes and you can expect an in-person "consultation". Think about your actions.

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Ok. I like you, because of your personality. Sure, people just think of you not as a top tier poster but I do. They judge books by their cover too much. They never tried to talk to you or anything, did they. They just thought “oh my, this little German kid guy is weird. I’m not gonna talk to him; he sounds like a boy that's gonna get eaten by his class mates”. Is that what they think about you?

hey, sorry I saw your profile and I just thought you looked cute in your picture, I really wanted to tell you that)) It’s really rare to see avocadoes playing qooty haha! I don’t know why its a guy thing honestly im like really against fruit discrimination and like ill be the one in the kitchen making sandwiches. We should really play werewolf sometime its a really cool murder mystery game with a lot of scary moments, but don’t worry ill be there to protect you sorry that wasnt flirting I swear Im just trying to be friendly I really like your profile picture sorry was that too far? Really sorry i’m really shy I don’t go out much haha add me on skype we should talk more you look really nice and fun xxx

Shut yo skin tone chicken bone google chrome no home flip phone disowned ice cream cone garden gnome extra chromosome metronome dimmadome xy genome monochrome indiana jones overgrown flint stone full blown hormone friend zone sylvester stallone kill zone methadone thunderdome eldritch tome cosmodrome flying drone sierra leone autozone professionally sewn silver patrone leave me alone I’m trying to play Hearthstone herringbone aerodome hippodrome semidome full-grown earphone ozone jawbone unknown homophone xylophone ingrown cyclone unpaid student loan lean mean string bean charlie sheen limousine canteen trampoline serpentine antihistamine wolverine submarine unclean nectarine broken gene halloween defective spleen smokescreen james dean putting green tiny peen anti vaccine aquamarine eugene extra green nicotine vaseline jellybean magazine protein lightning-mcqueen vending machine what'chu mean Ocean Man by Ween insane lidocaine candy cane airplane southern spain profane great plains water main bathtub drain propane net gain grease stain acid rain chocolate rain great dane lion’s mane no brain raise cain champagne uneven terrain cocaine mary jane cyclohexane pulmonary vein cellophane charlemagne weather vane augusta, maine hurricane coastal plain john wayne bahrain wood grain restaurant chain window pane public domain paper crane ibuprofen overdosin decomposin overloadin unimposin salty ocean child gropin bum clothin stupid jokin last one chosen at mouth foamin always dozin mind erodin ugly loathin overflowin never growing head ass the **** up!!

T-pose! Sorry, I was just asserting my dominance… So you’re new here, right? Heh, I’ve noticed you’re a bit small there, you’re a little bit of a quiet potato. Me, I’m a big Chungus as you can see. Yeah, I’m in the team, uh, I play as an avocado. Yeah and maybe a little bit fruity, y’know? If I’m feeling it, yeah? Do you go on Reddit? Do you like Rick and Morty? Me too! Do you watch callmecarson?

To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Rick and Morty. The humor is extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical physics most of the jokes will go over a typical viewer's head. There's also Rick's nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation - his personal philosophy draws heavily fromNarodnaya Volya literature, for instance. The fans understand this stuff; they have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these jokes, to realize that they're not just funny- they say something deep about LIFE. As a consequence people who dislike Rick and Morty truly ARE idiots- of course they wouldn't appreciate, for instance, the humour in Rick's existencial catchphrase "Wubba Lubba Dub Dub," which itself is a cryptic reference to Turgenev's Russian epic Fathers and Sons I'm smirking right now just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as Dan Harmon's genius unfolds itself on their television screens. What fools... how I pity them. And yes by the way, I DO have a Rick and Morty tattoo. And no, you cannot see it. It's for the ladies' eyes only- And even they have to demonstrate that they're within 5 IQ points of my own (preferably lower) beforehand.

You guys really know how to make a kid feel like Britt Baker in Pittsburgh.

I'm winging this. We're winging this. We. That's a very important distinction, we'll get back to it. But I didn't plan on what I was gonna say, because I didn't know what to say. Because I didn't know how I was gonna feel. But I knew that I needed to feel it. And I feel you, Chicago! And I hear you, Chicago! ["CM Punk!"] That's what I've heard for seven years. I heard you. I heard you. And we've got a lot to cover. There's good news and bad news--the bad news is we're not gonna get to all right here, right now. But the good news is, is I've got the time--Wednesday, Friday, four Sundays or Saturdays a year. I got the time and I ain't going anywhere.

Wait, one second. Possibly, for me, the most important thing I'm gonna say right now--and this is for everybody at home, this is for everybody who bought a ticket, this is for everybody in the back--if at all through my journey, any of my personal choices or decisions related to my life, made you feel disappointed or let down, let me just say, let me just say, I understand. If you all tried to understand that I was never gonna get healthy physically, mentally, spiritually or emotionally, staying in the same place that got me sick in the first place.

Can I tell you guys a story? It's hot in here, hang on one second.

Can I tell you a story?

You see, I felt before like I had to leave. I didn't want to, but I knew I couldn't stay and that was when I used to work for a place called Ring Of Honor. August 13th, 2005 was my last match in Ring Of Honor and I famously came out with tears in my eyes. And walking out here today, I now know why I was crying. And it for a lot of reasons, but what it boiled down to was: I had made a place where people could come work, get paid, learn their craft and love professional wrestling. And I cried because I knew I was leaving a place that I love and it was a home. And I knew where I was going it wasn't gonna be easy for a guy like me, because I'm one of you. So I look at it like this: August 13th, 2005, I left professional wrestling. August 20th, 2021, I'm back.

And I'm back for you. I'm not gonna lie, I'm back for me too. But I'm back because there's a hell of lot of young talent that I wish I was surrounded by ten years ago, so in saying that, I sit back and I say--well, hell, they're there now, so why aren't you? Here I am.

I'm back because I want to work with that young talent that had the same passion that I had stamped out. I'm back because there's a couple of scores to settle in that locker room. I'm back for the young guys. Darby Allin.

I've seen you. You're good. I've seen you jump out of airplanes. I've seen you wrapped up in a body bag and chucked over the top rope. I've seen you kicked down a flight of stairs and you always come back. Just like each and every person here in Chicago, you're tough. But I'm here to help. And you're the first on the list, I'm gonna help you because you're a daredevil and you like danger. Well, Darby Allin, there's nothing you could do that is more dangerous than wrestling CM Punk. Except, wrestling CM Punk in Chicago.

I will see you. And I'll see Sting, and I'll see all of you, September 5th at All Out, live on Pay Per View. I'm back.

Um, show of hands: Who here fancies themselves as a journalist? You're a journalist, Nick? Alright.

No, real, real quick, you still do improv?

No? When you did improv, who did you do improv with?

Mm, OK, so you fancy yourself a journalist, would you say you're friends with Scott Colton?

So you're not friends with him? Oh, wow. Well, that makes two of us. My point is, you fancy yourself a journalist, even if it's for the silly world of professional wrestling and you have journalistic integrity. People who report things, mostly that are bullshit and slanderous lies against myself, if you are friends with somebody who blew my spot, if you're not friends with them, I apologize. But you should probably disclose who you're friends with.

I haven't had anything to do with Scott Colton in almost a decade. Probably wanted nothing to do with him even longer than that. It's *ing unfortunate that I have to come up here and speak on this when I'm on my time and this is a ****ing business. Uh, why I'm a grown ass adult man and I decide not to be friends with somebody is nobody else's ****ing business. But my friends, if I fall backwards, will catch me. Scott Colton, I felt, never would have. My problem was, I wanted to bring a guy with me to the top that did not want to see me at the top, OK? You call it jealousy, you call it envy, whatever the * it is. My relationship with Scott Colton ended long before I paid all of his bills.

I have every receipt, I have every invoice, I have every email. I have the email where he says, and I quote, "I agree to go our separate ways. I will get my own lawyer and you do not have to pay anymore." That's an email that I have, and the only reason the public did not see it is because when I finally had to countersue him through discovery, we discovered he shared a bank account with his mother. That's a fact. And as soon as we discovered that fact and we subpoenaed old Marsha, he sent the email "Oh, can we please drop all this?"

Now, it's 2022, I haven't been friends with this guy since at least 2014, late 2013, and the fact that I have to sit up here because we have irresponsible people who call themselves EVPs and couldn't *ing manage a Target, and they spread lies and bullshit, and put into the media that I got somebody fired when I have * all to do with him, want nothing to do with him, do not care where he works, where he doesn't work, where he eats, where he sleeps, and the fact that I have to get up here and do this in 2022 is *ing embarrassing! And if y'all are at fault, * you. If you're not, I apologize. But, what did I ever do in this world to deserve an empty-headed *ing dumb * like "Hangman" Adam Page to go out on national television and ****ing go into business for himself, for what? What did I do, Dave? What did I ever do? Didn't do a goddamn thing.

It's not his position to make it very ****ing clear. There's people who call themselves EVPs that should've ****ing known better. This shit was none of their business. I understand sticking up for your ****ing friends, I ****ing get it. I stuck up for that guy more than anybody, OK? I paid his bills, until I didn't, and it was my decision not to...

I appreciate that, I appreciate that, but I'm, but I'm trying to run a ****ing business, and when somebody who hasn't done a damn thing in this business jeopardizes the first million dollar house that this company has ever drawn off of my back and goes on national television and does that, it's a disgrace to this industry, it's a disgrace to this company. Now, we're far beyond apologies, right? I gave him a ****ing chance, it did not get handled, and you saw what I had to do, which is very regrettable, lowering myself to his ****ing level. But, that's where we're at right now. And I will still walk up and down this hallway and say if you have a ****ing problem with me, take it up with me, let's ****ing go.

Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis "the wise"? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life... He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying. The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful... the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. It's ironic he could save others from death, but not himself.

I don't know if you guys heard, but I'm tired of being nice. Gone 10 months with a ruptured triceps tendon, tore it straight off the bone. But I'm still here, and as long as I am, this is the professional wrestling business. It's a business of grown-ups, this has never been a popularity contest. We all know I probably would've lost that one a long time ago.

So tonight, we're going to have a little conversation about the future, but first I would like to have a little conversation about my past, which I don't think is checkered. If you would have told 15 year old me that you're gonna sell out the Budokan, that you're gonna sell out Madison Square Garden, that you're gonna sell out multiple times over every single building in Chicago with a roof, well I'm not sure little Punker would have believed you. That's because he didn't experience what present me, standing here in front of all you crazy bastards has experienced.

I'm tired of being nice! Tell me when I'm telling lies! I did all these things and I got here to this place riding a wave, riding the backs of smart, passionate professional wrestling fans like you. And, oh gosh, I never fit in somewhere more in my entire life than I have here in professional wrestling. I love you for it! I love you because you love me! And you love me because I have never compromised, I've been unapologetic my entire career, I am me! And I couldn't have done all of this without all of you.

But it seems there's some people that hate me for the same reasons you all love me. Hey, listen, I understand that the sheer magnitude of me makes people uncomfortable. I very much understand that my mere presence makes people uncomfortable. That's because I am the truth and the truth is painful.

This sign right here says "CM Punk is my hero", you can call me that. This sign here says "Pepsi Phil", you can call me that. This sign here says "CM Junk", you can call me that. Boo me, cheer me, love me, hate me, you all do it because you know I'm right! You can call me whatever you want, you know what David Zaslav calls me? "One Bill Phil." That's because I am the one true genuine article in a business full of counterfeit bucks!

The king is back, baby. And I do have a lot of things to get off my chest. I got a question, Chicago, and then I'll get out of your hair: why would I change? This is what Joe Strummer trained me for! I will always speak truth to power, I will always be myself, I will never compromise! And there's the people who think that they're owed an apology. I've grown older and wiser in my years, sometimes it's better to be the bigger man. If you feel you're here today and I owe you an apology, here it is: I am sorry that the only people softer than you are the wrestlers you like. TELL ME. WHEN I'M TELLING LIES!

The last time you saw me with my tricep meat hanging down, I held what's in this bag above my head, and it's not because I deserve it, it's because I earned it. And it's not mine because I had "the best Dog Collar match." It's mine because I WON the Dog Collar match! TELL ME WHEN I'M TELLING LIES! This belongs to me until somebody can pin me or submit me for it.

And there are those of you who I'm sure were praying to whatever God you believe in that I'm going to put these down here in this ring and walk into the sunset, never to be seen again. But until there is somebody in this company that can fill these boots, they belong on my feet.

Tell me when I'm telling lies.

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⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠤⠄⠒⠒⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠐⠒⠒⠒⠂⠤⣤⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢻⠒⠤⢀⣀⣀⡀⠄⠄⠠⠠⠤⠤⠤⠒⠊⡸⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠸⡀⠄⠄⢀⠄⠂⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡰⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠱⡀⠈⠄⠄⢀⣀⣤⣊⣀⣀⣀⠄⡰⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠻⡼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢹⣫⣙⣛⣛⣛⣿⣟⣻⡻⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⡟⣯⣽⣾⣿⣟⣻⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣨⣿⣿⣿⣿⣗⣹⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣀⡼⠋⠈⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡠⠞⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⠶⠋⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⠴⠛⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⢀⣀⣀⡤⠤⠖⠛⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄oil floats on water⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀

⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⢶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⣶⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣯⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣟⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣫⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣋⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⣋⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣫⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢫⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣵⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⣛⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⡿⣛⣫⣽⣾⣿⣿⣿⡿⢟⣭⣾⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣭⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⣯⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⡿⣫⣿⣿⣿⣿⢫⣾⣿⣛⣿⣿⣿⢻⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣾⣷⣿⣟⣿⣞⣽⣿⣟⣾⡿⣫⣞⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⡉⡉⣶⠤⠄⠤⠹⠯⠭⠝⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢷⣭⣾⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⠏⠄⠄⢘⣥⣤⡤⢄⡀⠄⠄⢂⣀⣈⠄⠄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣾⣿⡿⣿⣿⢟⡿⣷⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⢿⣽⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⡿⢋⡤⣲⠬⣘⣫⠽⠛⠺⠓⠄⢲⠟⠛⡋⣉⣁⡄⢽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣵⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⢍⣾⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⡤⠻⠐⢯⡓⢦⣄⣀⡀⣖⠦⠄⡈⣹⠦⠍⣡⣧⠈⡾⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠘⢶⠄⠈⢿⣹⢷⣤⣼⡉⠓⠒⠛⡗⠒⣎⣯⣿⢸⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠣⡀⠄⠙⠦⣀⡏⠙⠛⡟⢻⡿⢿⢿⣿⡿⢸⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠈⣒⣷⣣⠔⢭⠙⡒⠳⠾⠶⠟⢛⠩⠄⠘⡁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⣠⠟⠁⣿⠈⠿⡷⢦⣈⣁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠁⣰⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⡴⠛⠁⠄⠄⣷⠄⠄⠙⢦⠄⠄⠉⠉⠓⠒⠊⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⠄⠄⠄⠈⢷⡀⠄⣀⠄⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠄⡤⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠄⢀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢧⠄ ⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄wait for it to rain
⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠸⠇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ cover yourself in oil
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣤⠖⠒⠒⣒⠶⠒⠒⠲⠶⠒⣶⣶⣤⠤⣤⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡰⠟⠄⠠⣐⠹⠦⠉⠒⠒⢀⠁⠐⠒⠂⠤⠄⠍⡀⠓⢦⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⡞⠄⠄⠄⣀⢨⣾⣿⣿⣛⡳⣦⠄⢀⣘⣤⣴⣦⣦⡄⠄⢘⢧⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡜⠋⣴⠞⢻⡛⠶⠦⠴⠞⠄⠈⠙⠋⠄⠈⢹⡉⠉⢀⣀⣴⠶⠕⡁⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢇⠄⢧⠒⢻⡉⠓⢶⣄⣀⡀⠐⣟⣫⣤⠄⠈⣹⠷⠄⡈⢁⣧⢐⡣⡿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠻⣆⠄⠄⠙⣯⢻⠷⣦⣤⣿⡉⠛⢛⠒⠻⣶⠒⢺⣏⣿⣿⠄⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⢧⡈⠄⠈⠛⣄⡀⣹⠟⠛⠛⢿⠿⢿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠄⠄⠹⢶⣗⣴⡢⠉⡛⠶⢤⠤⣿⣀⣼⣡⡼⣥⠿⠾⠃⠄⢈⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠈⠉⠘⠚⠮⣍⡐⠄⠂⠤⠉⠙⠓⢒⢀⡨⢒⡴⣼⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡴⢛⠟⠛⢿⠶⠤⣤⣀⣄⣀⣠⣷⠞⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡴⠋⢀⡞⠄⠄⠄⢷⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣹⠄⠄⠄⢀⣤⠚⠄⠄⡼⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⠳⣤⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⡾⠃⠄⠄⢰⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⣧⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠁⠄⠄⠄⢸⠁⠄⣴⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠄⠄⠄⠄⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢼⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣏⠚⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⡆⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣏⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠄⠄⠄⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣴⠄⠄⣠⣿⣀⠄⠄⠄⣹⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⠋⠄⠄⠄⠙⢶⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢰⠟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠹⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣧⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⠏⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⢷⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣰⠏⠄⠠⠄⠠⢤⣤⡴⠄⣀⣄⠈⣷⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⢀⠄⠏⠄⠄⠐⠃⠄⠙⠛⠛⠛⠛⠛⠄⠈⠐⠛⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄

⣀⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⠶⠤⠤⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠄⢀⠄⢀⣀⣀⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣀⢀⣀⣀⣠⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢴⣴⠶⠚⠉⠁⠘⠓⠋⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⢶⣤⣠⡖⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠐⠂⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⠗⠄⠄⠄⠖⡭⠭⠿⢅⡠⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠄⠄⠄⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠰⠾⢿⠄⣄⣀⣸⢸⣸⠄⠄⢂⠱⢆⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡈⠉⠄⠄⠄⠁⣲⠆⣀⣀⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢈⣱⣟⢥⣿⡸⠤⢆⡀⠄⡰⠌⡁⠠⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠄⠄⠠⠄⠄⠙⠃⠉⠓⠂⢓⠦⣤⣆⡤⠴⡒⠒⠚⠉⢀⣰⠈⢶⣧⠄⢳⣄⣠⡖⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠛⠻⠶⠤⠤⠛⠙⠂⠉⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠃⣿⣄⠄⠢⠓⠈⢛⠕⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠗⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠄⠄⠄⠠⢀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄fly⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⣤⣤⣤⣤⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿⡿⣷
⠄⣿⣾⡤⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣶⣾⣿⣿⣷⣶⠄⠄⣿⣿⡗⣿
⠄⣿⣾⣶⣟⣀⣤⣤⣤⣾⢿⡿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⣶⣦⣶⣶⣤⣿⣿⣏⣹⣏⣿⠄⠄⣿⣿⡗⣿
⣠⣿⣿⣦⣿⢿⣹⣏⣿⣿⢾⡷⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣶⢶⡷⣷⡆⠄⠄⢹⣧⣿⣿⣤⣿⣿⣿⣯⣹⣏⣿⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣹⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣉⣯⣹⣿⢾⡷⣿⠄⠄⣤⣶⡦⠄⠄⣿⢻⡗⣿⠄⠄⠄⢺⣍⣿⣿⣉⣿⣿⣿⣏⣹⣏⣿⣆⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣿⣄⢀⣿⣿⣤⠂⠄⣿⢻⡟⣿⡆⠄⠄⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

I have a morning ritual that I need to share. I call it "the terminator". First I crouch down in the shower in the classic "naked terminator traveling through time" pose. With my eyes closed I crouch there for a minute, visualizing either Arnold or the guy from the second movie (not the chick in the third one because that one sucked) and I start to hum the terminator theme. Then I slowly rise to a standing position and open my eyes. It helps me to proceed through my day as an emotionless, cyborg badass. The only problem is if the shower curtain sticks to my terminator leg. It ruins the fantasy.

Here's the thing. You said a "wyvern is a dragon." Is it in the same family? Yes. No one's arguing that. As someone who is a 1k MMR feeder who studies dragons, I am telling you, specifically, in dota, no one calls wyverns dragons. If you want to be "specific" like you said, then you shouldn't either. They're not the same thing. If you're saying "dragon family" you're referring to the taxonomic grouping of Varanidae, which includes things from wyverns to eldwurms to drakes. So your reasoning for calling a wyvern a dragon is because random people "call the flying lizards dragons?" Let's get gyarados and charizards in there, then, too. Also, calling someone a noob or a feeder? It's not one or the other, that's not how taxonomy works. They're both. A wyvern is a wyvern and a member of the dragon family. But that's not what you said. You said a wyvern is a dragon, which is not true unless you're okay with calling all members of the dragon family dragons, which means you'd call eldwurms, drakes, and other flying lizards dragons, too. Which you said you don't. It's okay to just admit you're wrong, you know?

Please DO NOT buy the BTS meal if you don't stan them. You're preventing the actual BTS fans who have waited for months from having the BTS meal experience. Eating the sauces without understanding their significance is literally cultural appropriation and it's not okay

Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels. Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is the “loser,” and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round. I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world. Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment. When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3×5 card reading, “Please use this M&M for breeding purposes.” This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this “grant money.” I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion. There can be only one.

I can confirm that all of this is 100% true.

 

[Bonz]

Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels. Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is the “loser,” and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round. I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world. Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment. When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3×5 card reading, “Please use this M&M for breeding purposes.” This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this “grant money.” I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion. There can be only one.

⢀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣤⣶⣶
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⣀⣀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠛⠉⠁⠀⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠿⠿⠿⠻⠿⠿⠟⠿⠛⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣴⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⢰⣹⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣭⣷⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠈⠉⠀⠀⠤⠄⠀⠀⠀⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢾⣿⣷⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠤⢄⠀⠀⠀⠠⣿⣿⣷⠀⢸⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢄⠀⢀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠉⠁⠀⠀⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢹⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⣿⣿

 

[Bonz]

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣤⣄⡀⠀⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⣿⣿⣿⠃⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢶⣶⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⢠⡀⠐⠀⠀⠀⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢸⣷⡄⠀⠣⣄⡀⠀⠉⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠀⣿⣿⣦⠀⠹⣿⣷⣶⣦⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣼⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⡿⢛⡙⢻⠛⣉⢻⣉⢈⣹⣿⣿⠟⣉⢻⡏⢛⠙⣉⢻⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣇⠻⠃⣾⠸⠟⣸⣿⠈⣿⣿⣿⡀⠴⠞⡇⣾⡄⣿⠘⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣟⠛⣃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿

 

[serial_thrilla]

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

 

[PhenomenalV1]

Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist without me. No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot, and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks!

 

[PhenomenalV1]

I am not crazy! I know he swapped those numbers! I knew it was 1216. One after Magna Carta. As if I could ever make such a mistake. Never. Never! I just - I just couldn't prove it. He - he covered his tracks, he got that idiot at the copy shop to lie for him. You think this is something? You think this is bad? This? This chicanery? He's done worse. That billboard! Are you telling me that a man just happens to fall like that? No! He orchestrated it! Jimmy! He defecated through a sunroof! And I saved him! And I shouldn't have. I took him into my own firm! What was I thinking? He'll never change. He'll never change! Ever since he was 9, always the same! Couldn't keep his hands out of the cash drawer! But not our Jimmy! Couldn't be precious Jimmy! Stealing them blind! And he gets to be a lawyer!? What a sick joke! I should've stopped him when I had the chance! And you - you have to stop him!

 

[serial_thrilla]

It's another lazy day at the Springfield Nuclear Power Plant. Homer
sits snoring at his desk, his old, faithful dog snoozing in a chair next
to him. Lenny has craftily constructed a hammock for himself in another
room.
In his sleep, Homer rests his head on the control panel in front of him
-- directly on the "PLANT DESTRUCT: PLEASE DO NOT PUSH" button. The
control room becomes awash in the red glow of emergency lights, and the
automated female voice says, "Core meltdown in ten seconds...nine..."
Homer's dog wakes up, hears the voice, and pulls the reset lever with
his mouth. The voice announces, "Meltdown averted...good boy."
Mr. Burns, too, is asleep in his chair, its back to his wall of
monitors. Yes, even the people on the monitors are asleep too.
Smithers sleeps, curled up beside Burns' chair. His leg twitches, and
he moans softly in his sleep.
Outside, in the parking lot, the Nuclear Inspection Van recreational
vehicle pulls up. Three white hard-hatted, lab-jacketed inspectors jump
out and press the buzzer at the entrance to the plant.
Agent 1: [presses the buzzer]
Burns: [awakening, over the intercom] Mmm...hmm...what? How dare you
disturb me during nap time.
Agent 1: We're from the Nuclear Regulatory Commission. This is a
surprise test of worker competence.
Burns: There must be some mistake. We, er, we make cookies here: Mr.
Burns' Olde-Fashioned Good-Time Extra-Chewy --
Agent 2: [to Agent 3] Get the axe.
-- We've done this before, "Homer Goes to College"

Smithers and Burns watch from the window as the inspectors lead some
plant employees into their vehicle.
Burns: The watchdog of public safety...is there any lower form of
life?
Smithers: Don't worry sir, I rounded up our less gifted employees and
led them into the basement.
[Shot of the basement with Homer and two other guys]
Bernie: Duh, Homer, why are we down here?
Homer: Aw, geez. I told you, Bernie: to guard the bee!
Man: [whining] But why?
Homer: Aw, you guys are pathetic. No wonder Smithers made me head
bee-guy.
[Homer kicks the jar accidentally, smashing it, and the bee
escapes]
Bernie: Duh, he's gettin' away.
Man: Oh, we did bad!
-- No recess for you, "Homer Goes to College"

The inspectors want to test Homer's competence next, but Smithers
apologizes for him, saying, "He couldn't bee here." Burns fobs them
off with some excuse about Homer chairing a conference on nuclear
fission in Geneva. Unfortunately, Homer jumps up through a manhole
cover just then, exclaiming, "The bee bit my bottom! Now my bottom's
big!"
The inspectors put Homer in the van.

Agent 2: Homer, this is an exact replica of your work station.
Homer: [moans]
Agent 2: Now we're going to simulate a power surge in core sector eight.
Homer: What the hell are you talking about?
-- This won't look good on a resume, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer is despondent.

Homer: What do I do? What do I do? In the name of God you've got to
tell me! [sobbing]
Agent 2: Relax, it's just a simulator. Nothing can go wrong.
Homer: [sotto voce] Just poke blindly at the controls until they let
you go.
-- It's worked before, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer begins doing just that, but something goes horribly wrong. "This
can't be happening!" exclaims one of the inspectors, as the van begins
to glow green and sink into the ground. Panic ensues at the plant.
Burns decides to try to get away in his escape pod. He activates the
entrance to the pod, jumps in, and slams the door shut. Smithers
implores, "For the love of God, sir, there are two seats!" but Burns
likes to put his feet up. The pod takes off, but doesn't even come
close to reaching escape velocity. Instead, it crashes into the street
and continues bouncing down it in a crumpled ball.
A glowing green Homer rises out of the hole left where the van used to
be, growling and fearsome. "Must destroy mankind," he intones, but the
alarm on his watch goes off, reminding him that it's lunch time. He
shakes off his radioactivity and bounds off to eat.
The agents watch the detox team spray the hole in the parking lot with a
foamy sealant.
Agent 2: I'm still not sure how he caused the meltdown. There wasn't
any nuclear material in the truck!
Burns: Oh, very well, it's time for your bribe.
Now, you can either have the washer and dryer where the lovely
Smithers is standing, or you can trade it all in for what's in
this box.
-- I can't decide, Monty, "Homer Goes to College"

One inspector wants the box, but the other inspector remembers her
ethics. She explains that Burns can't make the problem go away just by
throwing money at it, but just then, Mayor Quimby walks by in a fur coat
labeled "$5000" saying that he he's decided there will be no
investigation. He then leaves.
The inspectors tell Burns that Homer's job requires college training in
nuclear physics. If he doesn't get Homer up to speed, they tell him,
they'll be forced to take legal action. "Is that so?" asks Burns. "I
have the feeling you'll be dropping the charges," he says, emphasizing
"dropping" as he pushes a red button on his desk. A trap door springs
open, but it's nowhere near where the inspectors are standing. "The
painters moved your desk," Smithers reminds him.
The doorbell rings at the Simpsons house, and Homer goes to answer it.

Homer: [answers the door, sees Burns with his lawyers] Aah!
Burns: Hello, Simpson. My lawyers and I were in the neighborhood and
thought we'd stop by.
Marge: [nervously] Would you like to come in for tea and marshmallow
squares?
[The lawyers discuss it quietly amongst themselves]
Lawyer: Yes, he would.
-- Executive decision, "Homer Goes to College"

At the table, Homer asks Burns to confirm that he must go to college.
Bart scoffs, asking Homer, "College? Barber or Clown?"
Burns: Remember, your job and the future of your family hinges on
your successful completion of Nuclear Physics 101.
Oh, and one more thing: [ominously] you must find the jade
monkey before the next full moon.
Smithers: Actually sir, we found the jade monkey; it was in your glove
compartment.
Burns: And the road maps? And ice scraper?
Smithers: They were in there too, sir.
Burns: Ex-cellent! It's all falling into place.
-- Now as long as there are no meddling kids..., "Homer Goes to College"

That night, in bed, Marge expresses her support for the idea of Homer
going to college. "You could learn so much," she thinks. "Maybe you're
right," says Homer, "I did always want to go to college, {but fate stood
in the way." He thinks back to high school, where his guidance
counselor tried to get him to sign an application, assuring him, "You're
a shoe-in," but Homer gets distracted by a dog with a ham outside.
Sighing, the counselor throws Homer's application away.}
{Back in the present, Homer is filling out college applications. His
garbage bin is full of crumpled paper.}
Homer: [growls in frustration]
Lisa: Dad, don't let these application essays throw you. Let's see:
"List your three favorite books and how they've influenced your
life."
Homer: Is "TV Guide" a book?
Lisa: No.
Homer: "Son of Sniglet"?
Lisa: No.
Homer: Katherine Hepburn's "Me"?
Lisa: No!
Homer: Oh, I suck.
-- "Reading Digest" counts, though, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer slaves away at the applications.

Homer: [writing] "...It was the most I ever threw up, and it changed my
life forever."
Bart: You the man, Homer!
Homer: Thanks, boy!
-- What it is, "Homer Goes to College"

For the crowning touch, Homer pastes his photo to the application. The
one he chooses shows him cramming a birthday cake into his mouth, as
Marge looks on worriedly.
Bart: I dunno, Dad: don't you have a better picture?
Homer: Relax. A photo can't make any difference.
[A man and a woman review applications, and they come across
Homer's]
Man: [looking at the photo] He looks crazy.
Woman: Agreed. Reading his essay would only waste valuable seconds.
-- Next!, "Homer Goes to College"

Bart watches TV at home.

Finally! The great taste of Worcestershire Sauce in a soft drink.
Ah..."Steakie"!
-- A TV commercial, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer walks in and preempts Bart's program for a show about college that
he really should watch. The show is called "School of Hard Knockers",
and it stars Corey Masterson.
Prez: [on TV] Dean Bitterman, I hope nothing unsavory happens during my
visit. As you know, I am the President of the United States.
Dean: Oh, don't worry. I've expelled those rowdy members of Chugalug
house.
Homer: [watching] Ohh, I hate that lousy Dean!
Corey: [on TV] Your Bra Bomb better work, Nerdlinger!
Nerd: Hey!
[Corey presses the plunger; an explosion occurs in the
background]
[Many colors of bras rain down on the Dean and the President]
Dean: Corey?! Don't worry, Mr. President, I --
[looks over, sees the President dancing and enjoying himself]
Mr. President!
Prez: Lighten up, Bitterman...that youngster will make a perfect
addition to my cabinet. Secretary of Partying Down!
Dean: [growls; a bra falls on his head]
Homer: [triumphant] Yes! Take that, Bitterman.
-- College is just like that, "Homer Goes to College"

Marge brings in the mail: it has the decision letters from all the
colleges Homer applied to. Sadly, none of them are letters of
acceptance.
Bart: Well, Pop, what are you going to do?
Homer: [resolutely] Something I should have done a long time ago.
[long pause]
Marge: You don't know, do you?
Homer: [meekly] No, ma'am.
-- Homer's empty life, "Homer Goes to College"

Burns thinks he has a solution. He wants to use his power at
Springfield University, where he holds a chair. But the meeting is more
difficult than he has foreseen.
Man: I'm sorry, Mr. Burns, but I must object. This Simpson is not
qualified!
[There are nods of agreement]
Burns: I see. Well, you know, fellows, I look at the admissions board a
lot like a baseball team. You all like baseball, don't you?
[Everyone assents]
Yes, well, to have a successful baseball club, you need teamwork,
[Smithers hands him a baseball bat] not some hot-dog admissions
officer playing by his own rules!
[Burns starts hitting the man in the head with almost no force]
Man: [noticing] Er, excuse me, what are you doing?
Burns: I'm giving you the [grunt] beating of your life!
Man: Look, if -- stop that! -- you wanted him that badly, why didn't
you just say so?
Burns: [collapses from exertion] Smithers, dismember the corpse and send
his widow a corsage.
-- "Homer Goes to College"

Homer is elated: Burns' tactic worked!

Homer: Woo-hoo! I'm a college man! I won't need my high school diploma
any more! [sets fire to it and starts singing]
I am so smart!
I am so smart!
I am so smart!
I am so smart!
S-M-R-T!
I mean, S-M-A-R-T...
-- You were saying?, "Homer Goes to College"

The fire Homer sets quickly engulfs the diploma and begins spreading to
the wall.
[End of Act One. Time: 8:07]

At last, it's...

Homer: My first day of college. I wish my father was alive to see this.
Abe: [springing up from the back seat] Hey!
Homer: How long have you been back there?
Abe: [meekly] Three days!
-- That explains the smell, "Homer Goes to College"

Marge parks the car in the parking lot, and as she does, Homer sees a
nerd walk by.
Homer: [yelling at a student] Neeeerd!
Marge: Homer, that isn't very nice.
Homer: Marge, try to understand. There are two kinds of college
students: jocks and nerds. As a jock, it is my duty to give
nerds a hard time.
[A "jock" walks by]
Hey pal! Did you get a load of the nerd?
Jock: [not understanding] Pardon me?
-- The times, they are a-changin', "Homer Goes to College"

To meet some new friends, Homer takes Marge to the Freshman Mixer.
Glancing around, Homer sees a bowl of punch, and decides to help is
popularity.
Homer: [spiking the punch] Heh heh, I'll be a campus hero.
[Another student tastes the punch and spits it out]
Student: Attention, everyone: the punch has been spiked.
[Everyone gasps]
Don't worry. Your parents have been called and will be here to
pick you up shortly!
[Everyone cheers]
-- Let's try plan two, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer: Marge, someone squeezed all the life out of these kids. And
unless movies and TV have lied to me, it's a crusty, bitter old
Dean!
Dean: Hi there! Hello, I'm Dean Peterson, but you can call me Bobby.
I just want you to know if you ever feel stressed out from
studying or whatever, I'm always up for some hackey sack. Or,
hey! If you just want to come by and jam, I used to be the bass
player for the Pretenders. [plays a riff]
Homer: [bitterly] Boy, I can't wait to take some of the starch out of
that stuffed shirt.
-- Character evaluation problems, "Homer Goes to College"

On the first day of class, Homer sits at the back of the lecture hall.
The lecturer is an older man in a white lab coat, and he speaks with a
germanic accent. "I see a lot of new faces," he says, "but, you know
the old saying: out with the old, in with the nucleus." Everyone laughs
except Homer. When the lecturer drops his cue cards by mistake, Homer's
mirth seems to know no bounds. None of the other students see what he
finds so funny.
Prof: {Now if anyone would like to stay, I'm going to hold a
comprehensive review session after every class.}
Homer: {[waving] Do we have to?}
Prof: {No --}
Homer: {Then kiss my curvy butt goood-bye!}
-- "Homer Goes to College"

{Homer opts for chasing around a pair of squirrels with a stick instead
of staying for the (no doubt much needed) review session.}
{At home, Homer has altered his room to be more like that of a college
student. He has posters of W. C. Fields, Einstein, and a ballerina's
feet on the wall, and he's made a makeshift bookshelf from four planks
and six cinderblocks. He's listening to "Louie, Louie" on his stereo.}
Marge: {Homer, we have a perfectly good bookcase.}
Homer: {Yeah, but this is what they're doing on campus. Besides, it
isn't costing us: I swiped the cinderblocks from a construction
site.
[At the site, a worker walks forlorn up to his boss]}
Worker: {Sir, six cinderblocks are missing.}
Boss: {There'll be no hospital, then. I'll tell the children.}
-- "Homer Goes to College"

Back in Nuclear Physics 101, the professor explains a high-tech piece of
equipment to the class.
Prof: This proton accelerator destabilizes the atom in this chamber
here, then propels it --
Homer: Uh, excuse me, Professor Brainiac, but I worked in a nuclear
power plant for ten years, and, uh, I think I know how a proton
accelerator works.
Prof: Well, please, come down and show us.
Homer: All right, I will.
[Everyone abandons the glowing green building]
[Homer walks out, glowing green himself]
Homer: [to meltdown men] In there, guys.
Men: Thanks, Homer.
-- If I didn't know better, I might think you'd met him before, "Homer
Goes to College"

The Dean is kind to Homer, despite the egregious nature of his screw-up.

Dean: Homer, no one blames you for the accident, we simply feel you
might benefit from outside tutoring. I researched these names
myself. [hands him a list]
Homer: [to himself] Yeah, you've won this round, Dean...but the war
isn't over. [exits]
[Dean's phone rings]
Dean: Hello?
Homer: [disguising his voice] Hello, Dean! You're a stupid-head.
Dean: Homer, is that you? [looks out his window]
Homer: [looks up, sees the Dean looking at him] Aah!
-- Thank God for Call Display, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer wanders the college in search of room 222, where his tutors live.
He knocks on the door and is let in. When he greets the three nerds,
who are tapping furiously at their keyboards, they answer in robotic
voices, "Intruder Alert", and laugh.
Homer: Look, I'm supposed to get a physics tutor.
Nerd 1: Well, you've come to the right place then. If there's one thing
we know, it is science.
Nerd 2: And math.
Nerd 3: And the words to every Monty Python routine.
Nerds: [in unison] We are the Knights Who Say...Ni! Ni! [laughter]
Homer: Heh heh...Ni.
-- Homer's quest for a shrubbery, "Homer Goes to College"

At dinner that night, Homer excitedly tells the Simpson family about his
three new friends.
Homer: We played Dungeons & Dragons for three hours! Then I was slain
by an elf.
Bart: Listen to yourself, man: you're hangin' with nerds.
Homer: You take that back!
Marge: Homer, please! These boys sound very nice, but they're clearly
nerds.
Homer: Really? But nerds are my mortal enemy!
Lisa: Dad, nerds are nothing to fear. In fact, they've done some
pretty memorable things. Some nerds of note include...popcorn
magnate Orville Redenbacher, rock star David Byrne, and supreme
court justice David Souter.
Homer: [gasp] Oh, not Souter! Oh, no!
-- Mmm, Burgher, "Homer Goes to College"

The three nerds try to help Homer study, but he won't put any effort
into it.
Nerd 1: Come on, Mr. Simpson, you'll never pass this course if you don't
know the periodic table.
Homer: Ehh, I'll write it on my hand.
Nerd 1: Ho! Including all known lanthanides and actinides? Ha, ha!
Good luck.
-- Cerium, praseodymium, neodymium..., "Homer Goes to College"

Homer: Come on, guys. Look at yourselves! All you do is study. I'm
going to show you the true meaning of college: we're gonna go
out and par-ty!
Nerd 2: Wait a minute, I'll put on my snow pants.
Nerd 1: Me too.
Nerd 3: Me too.
-- Don't forget the Cougar boots, "Homer Goes to College"

Ah, the college road-trip. What better way to spread beer-fueled
mayhem?
-- Homer, "Homer Goes to College"

Marge sees Homer loading cases of beer in the car, and she goes out to
him.
Marge: If you're going for a ride, I'd like you to take Bart and Lisa.
Homer: [plaintively] But Marge, we're college guys and we're up to no
good.
Nerd 1: Mr. Simpson, Gary spilled his ear medicine.
-- Does it stain naugahyde?, "Homer Goes to College"

The beer-fueled mayhem turns out to be a trip to the Springfield petting
zoo. Lisa's happy that they let them feed the baby ducks, but she seems
to be alone in her happiness.
Nerd 2: I need to go to the bathroom!
Lisa: We stopped five minutes ago!
Nerd 2: Yeah, but someone knocked on the door and I couldn't go.
-- Tension and urination just don't mix, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer still tries to figure out a way to kick-start the nerds' social
lives. He decides a big crazy prank might do the trick: maybe rolling
the Dean up in a carpet and throwing him off a bridge? Bart has a
better idea: pignapping the Springfield A&M mascot, Sir Oinkcelot.
Homer combines the plans, suggesting they roll the pig up in a carpet
and throw him off a bridge, but there are no takers.
Under cover of darkness, the five accomplices set out to steal Sir
Oinkcelot. When they lug the pig back to Homer's car, Homer starts
playing with its tail, noticing that even if you pull it straight, it
curls right back up again. He does it repeatedly until the pig chomps
on his hand in annoyance. Homer has to be restrained from harming the
poor innocent pig.
Shortly thereafter, back at the dorm...

Nerd 1: Hey, the pig's acting kind of funny.
Nerd 2: He and Mr. Simpson split a case of malt liquor.
Nerd 3: Guys, he's really sick.
[The pig collapses]
Dean: [outside] Hell-oo...that sounds like a pig fainting!
-- Good ear on you, "Homer Goes to College"

Fortunately, the pig's OK. Homer, the Dean, and the nerds watch as the
pig is airlifted to safety, tied into a harness under a helicopter.
Dean: I'm sorry, boys, I've -- I've never expelled anyone before,
but...that pig had some powerful friends.
Nixon: [bitterly] Oh, you'll pay. Don't think you won't pay!
-- They are not a crook, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer is apologetic as the gates of Sprigfield College slam closed,
leaving the nerds out on the street with their suitcases.
Homer: Guys, believe me, I didn't mean to get you expelled.
Nerd 3: Oh, don't worry, Mr. Simpson, we can take care of ourselves.
[Snake appears, holding out his hand]
Snake: Uh, wallet inspector.
Nerd 1: Oh, here ya go. [All three give him their wallets] I believe
that's all in order.
Snake: Huh ho! I can't believe that worked.
Homer: [realization dawning] Heyy...that's not the wallet inspector!
-- Coulda been, though, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer places a worried hand to his lips, wondering what he's done.

[End of Act Two. Time: 15:59]

Homer decides the only recourse is to let them stay at the Simpson
house. Marge doesn't look too happy about it, but Homer pleads their
case.
Homer: Marge! They don't have anywhere to stay. And they're geniuses.
they'll solve all our problems. They'll elevate us to the
status of kings on earth!
Nerd 3: Mr. Simpson? We all have nosebleeds.
-- Genii non-savants, "Homer Goes to College"

The nerds sit at their computer terminals once again, only this time,
they've set them up in the Simpson's living room. Marge idly watches
them, then remembers a phone call she has to make. She lifts the
handset.
Marge: [hearing modem noises] Ooh, what's wrong with this phone? it's
making crazy noises.
Nerd 2: [contemptuously] Those "crazy noises" are computer signals.
Nerd 3: Yeah. Some guys at MIT are sending us reasons why Captain
Picard is better than Captain Kirk.
Nerd 1: Hah! They're outta their minds.
-- The Great Debate continues, "Homer Goes to College"

Bart and Lisa, meanwhile, are watching the Krusty the Klown Show. it's
time for an Itchy and Scratchy cartoon: "Burning Down the Mouse". Lisa
says she's heard about it already: "This is the one where Scratchy
finally gets Itchy!" Bart is suitably impressed.
Itchy is tied to a stake, and he looks glum. Scratchy rubs his hands in
delight, then reaches for a crate next to him. He puts sticks of
dynamite under the mouse's eyelids and in his ears. He fashions a
Lincolnian hat and beard out of plastic explosive and slaps them rudely
on Itchy, attaching grenades to his ears as crude parodies of earrings.
Itchy stares up in horror as a shadow looms over his face: Scratchy is
turning a wheel, adjusting the angle of two atomic bombs so that their
sharpened tips point directly at Itchy's eyes. Crates of TNT are
stacked around the atomic bombs. Lighting the fuses on all the
dynamite, he hails a taxi, and leaves.
Slowly, the fuse burns down. Itchy tries in vain to escape, his legs
struggling. Bart and Lisa watch, transfixed. "My purpose in life is to
witness this moment," says Bart, grasping Lisa's hand. We see a close-
up of Itchy's sweaty face as the inevitable draws inexorably closer.
The fuse burns all the way down, and --
Suddenly the TV screen goes blank. Bart and Lisa scream, horrified.
One of the nerds rises from behind the TV, holding a plug in each hand.
"We need the outlet for our rock tumbler," he explains. "Plug it in,
Plug it in!" the two cry frantically. "What, the rock tumbler or the
TV?" "The TV, the TV!" The nerd makes it so.
But it is too late. A mushroom cloud is all that's left on the TV, with
"THE END" written in red superimposed on it. The children in Krusty's
audience cheer wildly. "Wow!" exclaims Krusty, "They'll never let us
show that again, not in a million years!" Bart and Lisa are aghast.
Bart: [sharpening knives] Dad, start diggin' some nerd holes!
Lisa: [plaintively] It's bad enough that they put their retainers in
the dishwasher; can't we do something?
Homer: Look, I'm sure we can work something out where we can all live in
harmony, right, Marge?
Marge: No, I want those geeks outta my house!
-- Who can argue with that?, "Homer Goes to College"

The only recourse is to get the nerds back into college, thinks Homer,
with a zany scheme of some sort. The nerds aren't sure about the "zany"
idea, but Homer ignores them: "I got it! We're gonna fix it so you guys
save the Dean's life!"
In the next scene, Homer is behind the wheel, driving with a determined
look on his face. He checks his watch, seeing "4:59", and says,
"Perfect." He fishtails around the corner.
The Dean is just leaving, closing the door on his way out. He whistles
as he strolls down the path to the parking lot. The nerds are hiding
behind a nearby bush.
Nerd 2: OK, guys: push him out of the way in exactly three seconds.
Nerd 1: Should we correct for wind resistance?
Nerd 3: Hmm, possibly. What do you think?
[Homer hits the Dean with his car, and the Dean goes flying]
Nerd 1: Oh, my.
-- I hope he's insured, "Homer Goes to College"

In the Springfield General Hospital, Homer and the nerds stand beside
the Dean's bed. Homer apologizes for the "running-you-over prank", and
he admits that all the other pranks were his idea too. "I'm the one who
should be expelled." The Dean is touched by Homer's honesty, and he
wonders if perhaps he's been a bit of an ogre himself. "Yes you have,"
Homer confirms quietly.
The Dean magnanimously offers to readmit the nerds and to forget that
the whole silly incident ever happened. Just then, Dr. Hibbert walks in
with the Dean's prosthetic replacement hip. It breaks in his hands, so
the Doctor jovially informs him he'll have to go easy on it.
The nerds move back into room 222, and check their answering machine.
"Number of messages received: zero," it says, and the three sigh with
relief. They thank Homer for getting them back into college, and he
says, "The important thing is that we wrapped up all the loose ends."
But Homer has forgotten why he was at college in the first place: "So,
in conclusion, good luck on tomorrow's big final exam," says the Nuclear
Physics 101 lecturer. "Exam?! This is just like one of those bad
dreams," Homer says from his seat in the back row; he then glances down,
noticing he's wearing only his underwear.
Nerd 2: What are you going to do, Mr. Simpson?
Homer: Actually, I've been working on a plan. During the exam, I'll
hide under some coats, and hope that somehow everything will
work out.
Nerd 2: [determined] Or, with our help, you can cram like you've never
crammed before!
Homer: Whatever. Either way is good.
-- I'm not picky, "Homer Goes to College"

Homer goes to the library and takes out a wheelbarrow full of books.
The nerds tie his eyes open and hold a book in front of him. He falls
asleep while reading another book, and one of the nerds slaps him
lightly on the cheek to wake him. Reflexively, Homer drives his fist
into the nerd's unfortunate face, and falls back asleep.
In the exam, Homer is one of the last to leave, but he hands in his
paper with a smile, clicking his heels joyously. The instructor glances
at his answers, and stamps a circled red "F" on his paper.
The nerds are discontented with Homer's performance.

Nerd 2: Oh, man, I can't believe you failed.
Homer: [whining] Oh, I'm going to lose my job just 'cause I'm
dangerously unqualified!
Nerd 2: Mr. Simpson, there is a way. We could -- well, use a computer
to change your grade.
Homer: [surprised] Computers can do that?
Nerd 2: Well, yes...the only problem is the moral dilemma it raises,
which requires --
[Homer kisses one of the computers]
Homer: Oh, I love -- moral whuzzah?
-- You know, ethical crisis, "Homer Goes to College"

Marge: An A+! How did you do it?
Homer: Oh, let's just say I had help from a little magic box.
Marge: You changed your grade with a computer?
Homer: D'oh!
-- How'd she figure that out?, "Homer Goes to College"

Bart is impressed at Homer's ability, and Homer is quick to redirect
attention elsewhere.
Homer: Look, the important thing is that we all learned a lesson.
These guys learned the richness and variety of the world outside
college.
Nerd 2: No we didn't.
Homer: Oh. Then I learned the real value of college is to study, and
work hard.
Lisa: No you didn't. You only passed your course by cheating, which
you always taught us was wrong.
Homer: Hmm...true.
-- The need for Debating 101, "Homer Goes to College"

Marge wants Homer to take the course over again so he can pass it
without cheating. Homer accuses her of being worse than the crusty old
Dean. But he sighs, accepting Marge's resolution.
Homer: Well, I guess it's back to college for me. And that means it's
time to -- what did I teach you guys?
Nerds: [timidly] Par - ty - down?
Homer: Yess!
-- Woo hoo!, "Homer Goes to College"

[End of Act Three. Time: 21:23]

"Louie, Louie" plays over the closing credits, as many scenes of Homer's
return to college flash by.

 

[big_icky]

Who are you talking to right now? Who is it you think you see? Do you know how much I make a year? I mean, even if I told you, you wouldn't believe it. Do you know what would happen if I suddenly decided to stop going into work? A business big enough that it could be listed on the NASDAQ goes belly up. Disappears! It ceases to exist without me. No, you clearly don't know who you're talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot, and you think that of me? No. I am the one who knocks!

You ****ed up kid. As I type this I have my modded PS2 running a track IP script on your post. Once I have triangulated your position in the world, my PS3 will release to your router my very own Pandora box virus. You won't notice it at first, but soon your lame PC will begin to work against you in ways you can't even imagine. First your graphics card will start to emit the flu virus, your ram will be uploaded online so everyone will be able to use it, your motherboard will slowly secrete acidic resin which will fry the electronics. The processor will be fine, just to give you hope.You will be left with a husk of a machine, all because you decided to critique my mental ability... was it worth it?Not even your mummy can help you now **** boy

 

[T2B_]

Hello my name is T2B_, I live on Dragon Island, recently I was gardening some tomato plants, but random people have been ruining my gardening recently by shooting and detonating C4. In the process I lost all my plants and I am struggling finanicially please help me rebuild my garden.

 

[T2B_]

So here I was enjoying my favorite food (pizza) and watching this thread having a good time when it started to taste funny. It turns out the Rats were being super salty and now have ruined my pizza. Rats are you going to pay for another pizza or will I have to call the cops? This is serious.