Splatmaster posted:

deep dish peat moss posted:

A wizard’s workshop is never where you want to wake, but woken poor William was when - without warning - WHOMP! A tremendous rumble sent bookshelves and trinkets and baubles tumbling from the walls to join him on the weirdly warped wooden floor, and behind it echoed a banshee-wail of a horse's braying. He rose to a pounding headache and the dead weight of a resounding twenty-eight bottles of mead or wine or whatever they were, impishly stacked on his back, which fell (not so gracefully) to the now-slumbering planks below with little giggling clinks. There was a party here last night, as evidenced by strewn glassware and the general haze of smoke which hung low to the floor, and also the enormous neon sign on the far wall which in brilliant red and purple letters read “PARTY HERE LAST NITE”. He in fact vividly remembered the wizard twinkling his fingers as the clock struck midnight and the words changed themselves in a pyrotechnic flash, which seemed almost banal in comparison to the other tricks on display.

He hardly had time to assess his surroundings when - WHOMP! There it was again, followed by the same ghostly neighing! The room shook and the one remaining bookcase spilled ancient leatherbound tomes with tattered pages into the growing mire of the floor. A large glass sphere full of a sickly glowing green liquid was knocked off its stand and crashed against the ground, shattering and spilling its contents. “Who even keeps this stuff out during a party?” William pondered, but his inquisition was soon interrupted by crackling green flames erupting where the spilled liquid touched the pages of strewn books. The flames started small and seemed not to seethe and grow or spread beyond the boundaries of the pages that lapped them up. They produced a thick and pale green smoke twinkling with tiny fragments of stars and other fantastical glimmers which wholly entranced William. As they drew his gaze and he peered deeper he began to see strange apparitions, figures of shadow drifting through the smoke and occasionally reaching tenebrous limbs toward him, their fingers replaced with wisps of dark smog. What’s more, each and every one of them appeared to be adorned with rather expensive name-brand sunglasses, and the words "DEAL WITH IT, WILLIAM" exploded in brilliant lights behind them, so luminous that poor William was launched off his feet.

It was worrisome enough to wake in a wizard's workshop, but what's worse was this fucker's the memelord.

FactsAreUseless posted:

The story I am about to tell you is true. It's a true story, and it really happened. My name is not important. My name is poo poo Blunderboard, and I'm an ordinary teenage boy, just like you. Two weeks ago, I was having an argument with my mom about going to church. I told her I was an atheist and I read about it online. I told her I didn't want to go to church any more.

"I don't want to go to church anymore," I exclaimed to her.

"You have to go to church, because of otherwise, God will send you to Hell," she advised. I didn't believe her, because I was an atheist now. I stayed home and played atheist video games, such as Minecraft, instead. That night, I went to sleep, which I normally do at night.

"Good night," Mom (Donna) intoned to me. "Don't let the bedbugs bite even though I love you less than your Christian sister now."

Her words stung me, because I didn't like my sister very much, but I liked my mom a lot, even though we had disagreements. I went to sleep that night, as normal. That night, when I went to sleep, I had a dream. I thought it was a dream, but it was actually real. In the dream, I woke up in Hell, instead of my normal bed. But it was worse than I thought. It was scary.

"Welcome to Hell," Satan cried menacingly. He wasn't normal Satan. He was a skeleton Satan, and he had pitchforks instead of normal horns.

"Am I in Hell?" I inquired questioningly. I had always been very curious, which is why I was atheist now.

"Yes," shrieked the skeleton Satan, using heavy metal music instead of normal words. "You are in Hell. Scary Hell, that is!" Satan cackled with laughter, and it sounded like nails on a chalkboard made out of the chalk police use to draw the outlines around dead bodies. I screamed and looked around, sitting up in my bed, which was in Hell now. The sights that I saw shocked me to my eyes.

Instead of normal flames, like what Hell is supposed to have, all the flames were made out of blood. I stood up and looked at the blood flames up close, and I realized that instead of blood cells, the blood was made of tiny demons. The demons had skulls instead of eyes, and they were talking about how God wasn't real. This scared me, because I hadn't gone to church, so I didn't know if they were telling the truth.

"I'm going to torture you now," Satan menaced. I hoped he didn't. But I was wrong. Instead of torturing me normal ways, he made me swim in a pool of skulls. The skulls' teeth scratched me.

"Ouch!" I explained with agony from the skulls in my voice. "I'm so sorry I didn't go to church!" I was sorry I hadn't gone to church.

"You can't go now," Satan informed me. "You're in Hell now." I looked around. Satan was right. This was definitely hell, except instead of normal pitchforks, the demons were holding jack o'lanterns. I screamed when I realized what had happened.

"I'm sorry!" I begged. "I want to go to church instead of Hell!" Just then, Satan picked up the phone.

"Hello, this is Satan," he answered menacingly. "Oh, is this God? Hello, God. Yes, poo poo Blunderboard is here, just like you said. What's that? He wants to go church now so I should send him home? Okay." Satan hung up the phone, which was shaped like a coffin with a skull on it, and dripped blood when he folded it shut. I wondered who he was talking to.

"You have to go home now," Satan mumbled threateningly.

"Okay," I responded with relief. I got back into my bed and fell asleep. When I woke up, I couldn't believe it. Was it a dream? I didn't want to open my eyes, but then I did. What I saw next made me feel relieved.

Instead of being in hell, I was inside of my bedroom. I looked around and it looked normal. Just then, my mom asked me if I wanted to go to church. I said yes.

I still don't know if I believe in God, but I do know that Hell is real. And if there's one thing I know, it's that I believe in God. Please pass on my terrible warning, or else you could end up in Hell also, like I did. Goodbye.

cda posted:

From The Scary Inferno, Canto I
by Dante Aligsgheri

In the middle of the journey of our life
I found myself astray in a scary wood
Not a regular wood, a scary one,

How hard it is to say what it was like
In a wood so scary; the trees had all those weird little holes in them
the very thought of it renews my panic.

It is scary, almost as fear itself is scary.
But to make you poo poo yourself with justified fear,
I will speak about the other things I saw there.

How I got into it I cannot clearly say
for I was moving like a cool normal guy
the moment I stepped out of the non-scary way,

But when I came to the bottom of a terrifying earth mound,
Called a "hill," which was far bigger than me, which is scary,
And had rats on it, probably, but I wasn't going to check

I looked up, and saw it was covered in red spooky light
Like when you see an exit sign at night
Inside the basement of a church and think it's not Satan

(but it is) and you take the long way home
and when you get there, the freezer's empty
Because mom "forgot" to buy ice pops

But you know it's because she doesn't think they're healthy
Then I sensed a creepy influence needling me
Injecting something bad, maybe Ebola? into my soul.

vanisher posted:

Let's take a quick inventory and see just who has the upper hand:

You: Weighed down by your black trench coat, low visibility hockey mask, and 45 pound gas powered chain saw
Me: Limber and refreshed from just exiting the shower and using Zest brand body soap

You: Winded from screaming "i'm going to get you" at the top of your lungs upon entering the room
Me: Relaxed and ready to dodge in any direction due to the lack of resistance from clothing

You: Probably alerted half the neighborhood by just walking around looking like a creep
Me: Could probably just stand still and the police will be here any moment

google THIS posted:

Yes, I know what I said, and I meant it. Enjoy your movie as well, the movie known as life, which you will be watching from behind the glass at that ticket counter.

Splatmaster posted:

I am a product of the Triple Dog D.A.R.E. program whereupon concerning the matter of pot I just said yes please because no seemed out of the question

cda posted:

Woooo de oooo its Duck Tales time
sit back and chill to my Duck Tales rhyme

This is Duckburg and you can hang with me
you can chill out relax and and solve a mystery with me
if you need a pick me up cuz you're feelin down
just call Launchpad and he'll come around
quackin' all over your melancholy posts
especially Scrooge cuz he earns the most

See what i did dere dat wuz a namedrop
because the circlejerks in the Burg dey never stop

it's all about nephews, Huey, Dewey, and Louie
see how many times you can rewrite history
post a treasure map cuz life's a hurricane I said
toss your money up and let it hit you on the head

make a youtube thread, MSpaint a duck
if dey find out ur a girl then they'll all be down to gently caress
and even if youre not you can still be a chick
it's another word for duckling, thats the trick

if you're straight up beagle boyin' and youre tryina steal from Scrooge
sit down right here and ill tell you some news
here in the Burg its not about attention
It's racecars, lasers, aeroplanes that get all the affection

It Duck Tales, Duck Tales for the win
Wooo and an Oooo, sliding to the Money Bin

WindmillSlayer posted:

Alright guys, I'm starting a project. I've decided to roll a cigarette. Please join me as I walk through the process.

Here's my current idea on how to make this happen.

1. Leave bed.
2. Find rolling papers.
3. Find tobacco.

This is where the project really starts. I'll update this thread when I've finished the first three steps. Don't worry! I'll post pictures so you can follow along.

WindmillSlayer posted:

I haven't completed step one yet. Sorry for updating so quickly but I seem to having some issues motivating myself. I've taken a picture anyway.

WindmillSlayer posted:

Finally left bed. It wasn't easy but I realized that if I didn't leave bed I would eventually become uncomfortable due to desire for cigarettes.

Step two has been pretty easy. I was out of papers but when I was in bed delaying the inevitable I glanced out the window and I'm pretty sure there's something useable outside.

IT'S IN OUR SIGHTS CAPTAIN!


You can really see why someone would just dump this on the street. It's full of horrible misprints like this.


I ripped out a few rectangles from it, roughly 1" by 2 1/2" each. I'm not sure I'm gonna get the rolling part done in a single try.

HOT TIP FOR PROJECTS!! Clean up as you work. If you just leave stuff sitting around, your creativity will be stifled by the junk!

WindmillSlayer posted:

Alright I'm updating you all as the glue sets.

The materials needed:


In progres:


Waiting for it to dry!!!


So I finished my project Gonna smoke it as soon as the glue finishes drying! Thanks for going with me on this adventure.

TIPS AND TRICKS: Do not lay the glue gun down on the tablecloth while it heats, the tablecloth ends up burning a little and the fumes from it are NOT pleasant. Huffing them showed no result in my state of mind.

Manifisto posted:

cda posted:

Stuff like this is why this thread exists, I think.

cda posted:

the japanese call it "wabi sabi" and it means letting a garden do whatever it wants

PHIZ KALIFA posted:

Splatmaster posted:

You throw the creamer into the air and whatever lands into your coffee cup is the amount your coffee decided it wanted to have or you could use Fibbonacci's Sequence to determine the precise ratio of creamer to coffee molecules spiraling outward from the vortex created by stirring with your spoon but where's the fun in that?

Putty posted:

anyone wanna give me $50,000 as a prank

blaise rascal posted:

Whoa, so I can do this on myself? That's cool. The issue is that I don't know what the hell any of these Tarot cards mean. I'm going to go ahead and use a different set of cards with which I am more intimately familiar to answer the question, "Will I find love?"



Issue - Chromeshell Crab
The exchange of the control of other cards reflects the exchange of one's being with a lover's being. This card seems to be indicating that the type of relationship I seek is not one that is completely selfless, but rather one in which the lovers give their best selves to each other. Hidden within this card mechanic is a dire warning. The way that this card typically plays out is that you give your opponent something that harms her, while taking her best thing for yourself. Approaching a relationship in the same way surely dooms it to failure.

I'm not sure how to interpret the morph cost. It could be that this card coming out of nowhere from a lowly 2/2 is telling me to embrace the spontaneous nature of love, or it could be that I'm supposed to lie low and wait until I get to know a girl well before asking her out (just as this card hangs out as a morphed creature for a while before unmorphing). Either way, it appears that finding love will be less about changing something deep within myself, and more about mustering up enough mana for the morph cost.



Crossing - Rewind
It's amazing to me that out of the tens of thousands of cards that have ever been printed, so far I have picked two cards that I have actually cast in games. In any case, this card's meaning in this position is obvious to me - I am still obsessed with the girl I dated two years ago. We were only together in person for a month before she moved out of the country, but that hasn't stopped me from forming a fixation around her. I still talk to her occasionally, but she has made it clear that she doesn't want to date me again.

I'm not so full of myself as to think that I would be enjoying great romantic success if I had never met her, but I do think that my thoughts about her are absolutely a "crossing" to overcome. I often compare other girls to her, and it's much easier for me to think about what went wrong with her than what could go right with other girls. It's clear to me that I wish to rewind back to when we were together, counter our breakup, and untap with a fresh set of lands ready to invest in her in all the ways I failed to invest in her before. However, that's not possible. I need to find the fortitude to hold my rewind in my hand and let our breakup resolve.



Subconscious - Young Pyromancer

This weirdass leather twink is not what I was expecting. Is the spirit of James Garfield calling me gay? In any case, it could be that I have had opportunities for love, but have burned them by, uh, hastily flinging fire elementals at them? I'm at a loss. Although, it is to be expected that subconscious issues are tough to identify. That's why they're subconscious. Let's just move on; this guy is making me uncomfortable.



Conscious - Blazethorn Scarecrow

According to the cards, I consciously view myself as this scarecrow, plodding along in the darkness, searching for a light-filled world (Lorwyn) that is gone forever. I certainly feel like a roaming creature a lot of the time. Most days I have to travel for my job. This is tough because it makes me feel like I have no permanent home anywhere, which also interferes with dating. Like this creature, I could also be overly desperate; a red creature, a green creature, it doesn't matter, I just can't be complete by myself. More specifically, I have no "color" or identity of my own, just what I am able to steal from others. All of these things are true, but it's not clear to me how to fix them. Perhaps we should delve deeper.



Past - Jetting Glasskite

It's true that I was a lot freer in the past than I am now. This freewheeling guy both flies and has a regenerating "armor" that counters things that harm him, and likewise, a few years ago, I had all these crazy ambitions that I was working on, and I would ask out random girls on the street (I blame BYOB for telling me to do this; BYOB was a different place back then), and nothing seemed to bother me. I even decided to literally "jet" to Europe and live there for close to a year, which is where I met the girl I can't shut up about. These days I am more cautious and have thinner skin. I don't really want my heart broken again.

Alternately, this card could represent that girl. She was also a free spirit, seeming to move from country to country at a whim despite having little money, and her positive attitude served as a sort of natural "counter" to the harshness of the world around her.



Near Future - Mountain (Full-Art Zendikar version)

Ah, yes, the full-art Zendikar lands that I love to hate so much. In this game, Mountains are a card that a ton of decks need because they let you cast all your other spells. For this reason, the makers of the game have printed a lot of functionally-identical Mountains over the years, and most can be had very cheaply. This is fun because you can fill out your deck with the Mountains whose art you find the prettiest. However, most Magic players have horrible taste, and so they think, "These limited-edition Zendikar Mountains have art over the entire card, so they must be the best!" These players are willing to pay a premium for these collectible cards. In reality, the art on these is only so-so (what part of those floating rocks even vaguely resembles a mountain?) and, ironically, their status as a collectors' item means that everyone uses them, so people pay more money to make their decks less unique.

As much as I loathe the trend of people "blinging out" their decks with things that are not actually better, I have to admit that it is what I am doing with my own life these days, in the sense that I am working for money and not really enjoying my life or spending my money. Just like the players who collect these lands as a status symbol, I am collecting money as a status symbol, and I don't really know why. I see this trend continuing in the near future.



You - Glassdust Hulk
Lonely goon smash! The limitations of Magic cards as a divination tool are making themselves clear as glass to me by now, but I'm committed, so let's continue.

Like the scarecrow before it, this is an artifact card, meaning it has no color of its own. The fact that this card even functionally cares about artifacts suggests a theme - I need to bring a little color into my life. In Magic lore, artifacts tend to flavorfully be robots and other mindless automatons, and so perhaps this card is also suggesting that I need to be a little more assertive.

In a slightly more insidious sense, the fact that this card is empowered by other artifacts could reflect me being so jealous of the romantic success of other people that I root for them to become failures, just like me. I have never been someone who is very good at finding joy in the happiness of other people, and I could see this card serving as a warning. However, I have authority in this matter; should I choose not to be like the Glassdust Hulk, I may simply cycle him away in favor of something else.



Hopes/Fears - Beast Within

This card perfectly encapsulates both my hopes and my fears as they relate to this issue. I fear that I become an animal in my treatment of women, and I don't want to be like Reddit PUAs who think that women need masculine men to swoop down and tell them what they want. And yet, I've had the most success when I was assertive and moved on girls quickly, and I want a girl who will help me to feel the same primal abandon that I had with that girl I dated two years ago. It's so tough; how do I express confidence without being a creep? How important is sex? Straddling the line between platonic respect and bestial abandon is something that concerns me, and I'm reminded of a song lyric:

"Fools rush in where wise men never go.
But wise men never fall in love, so how are they to know?"



Surroundings - Citanul Flute

"Citanul" is a word that appears on a few cards from the Urza's Saga expansion, mostly animals and druids, suggesting that this card is flavorfully a flute that summons natural beasts and was created by caretakers of nature. "Citanul" is also the world "lunatic" spelled backwards, but it doesn't make sense to me why a faction of druids would use that word, since the natural world could hardly be described as lunatic.

In any case, I actually think this card does describe my surroundings. Rather than my surroundings being other people, they are a musical instrument that I stare down at. This makes sense, as I spend more time making music on an average day than I do talking to other people. The sight of looking down at an instrument is one I find quite familiar. I don't mind the lack of human interaction because my study of music is wonderfully fascinating and helpful to me, but it is becoming clear that this environment is not one that is particularly conducive to meeting people and falling in love. That this card summons beasts could be a callback to the last card; the more I focus on selfish personal pursuits, the more I turn into an animal. Dang, I just realized that it's another artifact as well. How deep does the rabbit hole go?



Outcome - The Iron Guardian Stirs

Well, this is ominous. Flavorfully, this guy is being summoned by the archvillain Nicol Bolas to kill all the heroes (don't ask me how I know that). The fact that this guy even looks like that Glassdust Hulk from earlier leaves no doubt in my mind; I am the Iron Guardian, and before too long, I'll be motivated to "stir" into action. This could mean falling in love again, but I will continue to be an unfeeling robot. The fact that "stirring" is an old-timey euphemism for arousal is even more ominous. Like, he looks so evil, with his downward-bent head, as if he is about to charge forward and take what he thinks is his. I don't want to be like that. This is all wrong.

blaise rascal posted:

At least it's so long that no one will read it

blaise rascal posted:

At least it's so long that no one will read it

Manifisto posted:

possum: You, sir, should unmask.
EASTER BiLBY: Indeed?
possum: Indeed it's time. We have all laid aside disguise but you.
EASTER BiLBY: I wear no mask.
possum: (terrified, aside to quoll.) No mask? No mask!

FactsAreUseless posted:

FactsAreUseless posted:

True story about that book: I first encountered it in the children's section of a bookstore I worked at. I don't know how we got it. Info about it online is sparse, it wasn't exactly a best-seller. The physical copy is massive, maybe like 22 by 16 inches. It is much creepier in person.

Kthulhu5000 posted:

gravy's totally legal, so I don't get why it would form a black market?

but as many would legitimately argue (and I would even grudgingly concede, despite my obvious gravy overload burnout) that the subpar gravy passing around on the street and at office potlucks should be a culinary crime to the nth degree.

man, let me tell you about potluckers. they're the worst gravy fiends, bringing in pots of the sloppiest and most water-cut brown poo poo you've ever seen every day, in all the office parks, schools, city buildings, and minor strip malls of this country. crushing up potato chips, slopping their swill all over the crumbs in a paper bowl, heating that poo poo up in the microwave, and then topping that hot mess with the generic brand ketchup ("catsup") and taco sauce packets they keep in a hoarded heap all over the place.

and then they eat that hot mess, smack their lips, and go about doing your taxes or writing some boring computer code or injecting records about your children's dental history into various government computer databases interlinked into some giant you don't know what the gently caress spider web of networks that might as well be the brains behind the whole goddamn operation for all you know and understand.

I have literally seen one scabby heroin junkie dissuade another from going to piss on a flaming potlucker who spilled hot gravy on his lap while driving, which made him veer into a gas line and ignite it. "gently caress him, man, he's a goddamn lucker!", I'm sure I heard the one say to the other as they both ran away. Or maybe it was "It's too dangerous, let's get help!", but I'm skeptical...

Anyhow, potluckers are craven as poo poo.

vanisher posted:

alnilam posted:

UWBW posted:

You take a human woman to an amusement park. You yourself are also human. She is excited. She is enthused. She wants to be at this place, with you, a fellow human being.
"Perceive," you say, "a haunted house. Let us partake in the enjoyment of the haunting of said abode."
"Correct thinking," she verifies.
You escort her into the premises of the amusing house. You are both amused, as humans can occasionally be.
In a dark room, in the midst of many ghost-on-string ensembles and a man damned to work at this park for all eternity, you lean close to her. She feels you move towards her, and turns her skull to face yours.
"We are humans," you whisper into her audio receivers. "Humans."
"We deserve respect," she echoes.
"We deserve to be treated like human beings."
"Yes," she agrees, her video adapters flickering slightly to take in more of the room, and make sure no one else is within audible range. "Treat me like a human being."
"Respect."
"Yes."

You treat each other like human beings. No one at the amusement park has any reason to suspect that you are not human beings. This is good.

UWBW posted:

Personally, I love sucking things out of a gnome's rear end. Oh, it's drugs? Well that's just icing on the cake, really.

alnilam posted:

*teaching my friend how to use a bong* you crumble the weed up a lil, then you put it in his crotch... then you put your mouth around his rear end. now get your lighter ready by his crotch, here's where the fun really begins

alnilam posted:

*me trying to use a normal bong* okay I'm lost, where the hell is the crotch and rear end??

Manifisto posted:

leprechaun: ok you caught me. I suppose now you want me to tell you where to find my pot o' gold.

me, pulling out a lighter and baggie: not so fast

cda posted:

To Whom It May Concern,

I am happy to write a letter of recommendation for Vanisher. Having supervised him for six years now, I believe he would make an excellent Assistant Deputy Department Head. He has consistently been among my highest performing supervisees, he has taken the initiative to design and implement many process improvements, and he has pleasured me for hours with the focus and intensity of a truffle hog searching after a European white truffle.

Unlike many of my supervisees, who are transferred to my department under regular procedures, Vanisher was transferred to my department because I explicitly asked to work with him after seeing the work that he did on the Kleinberg Portfolio. Having had the opportunity to observe the energy and intelligence he brought to that project, I knew that he would be a valuable addition to my department in addition to being able to lick me up and down like a pussy lollipop with a sweet gooey center.

I soon discovered that in addition to his high level of general performance, Vanisher was committed to innovation and continuous improvement. After observing inefficiencies in our document-management system, Vanisher developed a new flow chart in Visio, which involved both a normal process and contingency planning for high-priority requests, and when he discovered that I had a particularly sensitive G-spot, he invented new ways to use both his tongue and fingers to pleasure me. I discovered that I was a squirter.

Finally, I would be remiss if I did not mention that Vanisher eats out like a middle-aged bachelor who lives upstairs from a Chinese restaurant, by which I mean: frequently, knowledgeably, and with only a reasonable amount of shame. At this point, just looking at the guy gets me drenched. Seriously. It's like the god drat Ninth Ward down there.

As you can see, I think Vanisher is a good candidate for this opening, just as he has been a great candidate for my opening. He has my highest recommendation.

Sincerely,
Old Lady Boss

Robot Made of Meat posted:

Mine would probably fall under the 'Charity work' section . . . of someone else's resume.