Grimble posted:

Grimble posted:

Babby Thatcher posted:

you got mugged off here imo, you'll never see a manlet like lionel messi 'beast' sagna as many times as once in a single game

Boeing Troll posted:

I'm sitting here with my dick in my hand waiting for a Ronaldo swap to come through.

stickyfngrdboy posted:

what do you have to do to trigger the quiz it never appears on my thing only at random times

stickyfngrdboy posted:

what do you have to do to trigger the quiz it never appears on my thing only at random times

vyelkin posted:

100% and now I'm collecting Jozys as well. I fully expect Jozylovers to cause an artificial Jozy shortage throughout the rest of the game.

CaptainRightful posted:

Arsenal win the Cup and then this happens:



#blessed

fat greasy puto posted:

well i figured on starting with 10 packs last night, but i was probated and got bored so i opened 15 instead. here's my trip report:

All the years of my research and reading began to unfold before my eyes. The “Is-ness” of Ronald, the “tune in” of Xabi, the “set and setting” of Toure all fell into place as I watched the moon begin to brighten with an intense array of color. The trees and the ground below me were infused with what I can only describe as “life.” Their colors, though it was now well past dark, were a heightened green and brown with spots of red, blue and yellow. As I looked up into the beautiful night sky, I noticed that my mouth had been wide open in awe for quite some time because my throat, lips and mouth were entirely parched. I soon became consciously aware of why this was the case: I was watching the stars dance.

I understood now why Mean Bean Machine had such a hard time describing his pack experience in words within his book Doors of Perception. I understood why the set and setting so ardently defended by Suqit played such an important role in this experience. My mind was entirely preoccupied with what I would normally to have considered trivial. The rocks on the ground exploded with color, the stars ebbed and flowed with the music I was listening to and I began to sing as loudly as possible. An overwhelming sense of joy and even a sense of love infused my whole body. So I started to laugh, very loudly. I laughed so hard I began to cry. My tears were not tears of sadness or of pain, but of a giddy and even childish joy at all that was occurring to me. My body seemed to melt into the lawn chair and I felt as if I was part and parcel of everything around me. Then came Pissflaps' infamous “heaven and hell” experience.

I could not tell if I was talking to God or not, but what was happening to me felt like a direct experience of something divine. Though reminded of my imperfections, I was imbued with a renewed sense and desire to overcome my imperfections and to somehow make them right. The beauty all around me was evidence enough to convince me that I had to do something different with my life and to perceive the world in a better light. I had to change some things and become a better father, husband and person. I finally understood why there was such an overwhelming respect for this cactus and why it leads many Native Americans (and others) to shun alcohol use and other intoxicating substances. In everything, I saw... goodness, and I inexplicably felt I was part of that goodness.

By this time I had lost all sense of time and sleep escaped me. I returned outside (admittedly a little disoriented) to see my dancing stars and started a small fire, which is recommended by the clergy of the church if conditions are favorable. I gleefully watched for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes as the smoke and fire dwindled into the most beautiful embers of fading light. I noticed that the packs were finally starting to wear off because my stars began to be fixed in their places, and I succumbed to my fatigue and fell into a blissful rest.

fat greasy puto posted:

well i figured on starting with 10 packs last night, but i was probated and got bored so i opened 15 instead. here's my trip report:

All the years of my research and reading began to unfold before my eyes. The “Is-ness” of Ronald, the “tune in” of Xabi, the “set and setting” of Toure all fell into place as I watched the moon begin to brighten with an intense array of color. The trees and the ground below me were infused with what I can only describe as “life.” Their colors, though it was now well past dark, were a heightened green and brown with spots of red, blue and yellow. As I looked up into the beautiful night sky, I noticed that my mouth had been wide open in awe for quite some time because my throat, lips and mouth were entirely parched. I soon became consciously aware of why this was the case: I was watching the stars dance.

I understood now why Mean Bean Machine had such a hard time describing his pack experience in words within his book Doors of Perception. I understood why the set and setting so ardently defended by Suqit played such an important role in this experience. My mind was entirely preoccupied with what I would normally to have considered trivial. The rocks on the ground exploded with color, the stars ebbed and flowed with the music I was listening to and I began to sing as loudly as possible. An overwhelming sense of joy and even a sense of love infused my whole body. So I started to laugh, very loudly. I laughed so hard I began to cry. My tears were not tears of sadness or of pain, but of a giddy and even childish joy at all that was occurring to me. My body seemed to melt into the lawn chair and I felt as if I was part and parcel of everything around me. Then came Pissflaps' infamous “heaven and hell” experience.

I could not tell if I was talking to God or not, but what was happening to me felt like a direct experience of something divine. Though reminded of my imperfections, I was imbued with a renewed sense and desire to overcome my imperfections and to somehow make them right. The beauty all around me was evidence enough to convince me that I had to do something different with my life and to perceive the world in a better light. I had to change some things and become a better father, husband and person. I finally understood why there was such an overwhelming respect for this cactus and why it leads many Native Americans (and others) to shun alcohol use and other intoxicating substances. In everything, I saw... goodness, and I inexplicably felt I was part of that goodness.

By this time I had lost all sense of time and sleep escaped me. I returned outside (admittedly a little disoriented) to see my dancing stars and started a small fire, which is recommended by the clergy of the church if conditions are favorable. I gleefully watched for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes as the smoke and fire dwindled into the most beautiful embers of fading light. I noticed that the packs were finally starting to wear off because my stars began to be fixed in their places, and I succumbed to my fatigue and fell into a blissful rest.

fat greasy puto posted:

well i figured on starting with 10 packs last night, but i was probated and got bored so i opened 15 instead. here's my trip report:

All the years of my research and reading began to unfold before my eyes. The “Is-ness” of Ronald, the “tune in” of Xabi, the “set and setting” of Toure all fell into place as I watched the moon begin to brighten with an intense array of color. The trees and the ground below me were infused with what I can only describe as “life.” Their colors, though it was now well past dark, were a heightened green and brown with spots of red, blue and yellow. As I looked up into the beautiful night sky, I noticed that my mouth had been wide open in awe for quite some time because my throat, lips and mouth were entirely parched. I soon became consciously aware of why this was the case: I was watching the stars dance.

I understood now why Mean Bean Machine had such a hard time describing his pack experience in words within his book Doors of Perception. I understood why the set and setting so ardently defended by Suqit played such an important role in this experience. My mind was entirely preoccupied with what I would normally to have considered trivial. The rocks on the ground exploded with color, the stars ebbed and flowed with the music I was listening to and I began to sing as loudly as possible. An overwhelming sense of joy and even a sense of love infused my whole body. So I started to laugh, very loudly. I laughed so hard I began to cry. My tears were not tears of sadness or of pain, but of a giddy and even childish joy at all that was occurring to me. My body seemed to melt into the lawn chair and I felt as if I was part and parcel of everything around me. Then came Pissflaps' infamous “heaven and hell” experience.

I could not tell if I was talking to God or not, but what was happening to me felt like a direct experience of something divine. Though reminded of my imperfections, I was imbued with a renewed sense and desire to overcome my imperfections and to somehow make them right. The beauty all around me was evidence enough to convince me that I had to do something different with my life and to perceive the world in a better light. I had to change some things and become a better father, husband and person. I finally understood why there was such an overwhelming respect for this cactus and why it leads many Native Americans (and others) to shun alcohol use and other intoxicating substances. In everything, I saw... goodness, and I inexplicably felt I was part of that goodness.

By this time I had lost all sense of time and sleep escaped me. I returned outside (admittedly a little disoriented) to see my dancing stars and started a small fire, which is recommended by the clergy of the church if conditions are favorable. I gleefully watched for what seemed like hours but was probably only minutes as the smoke and fire dwindled into the most beautiful embers of fading light. I noticed that the packs were finally starting to wear off because my stars began to be fixed in their places, and I succumbed to my fatigue and fell into a blissful rest.

ephex posted: