You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
Loopy pegasi? More like lawbreaking pegasi!
Rainbow Dash spent the night there after she was taken in for operating a stormcloud under the influence of cider
You are the end result of a “would you push the button” prompt where the prompt was “you have unlimited godlike powers but you appear to all and sundry to be an impetuous child” – Zero, 2022
The URL brought horrific images to mind
The clothes themselves are actually pretty cool. I wonder where they find old kids' sheets in such good condition?
Tom. You think I'm in love with the Continental Shoemakers? You think I want to spend fifty-five years down there in that--celotex interior! with fluorescent--tubes! Look! I'd rather somebody picked up a crowbar and battered out my brains--than go back mornings! I go! Every time you come in yelling that God damn "Rise and Shine!" "Rise and Shinel" I say to myself, "How lucky dead people are!" But I get up. I go! For sixty-five dollars a month I give up all that I dream of doing and being ever! And you say self--self's all I ever think of. Why, listen, if self is what I thought of, Mother, I'd be where he is--GONE! [Pointing to father's picture] As far as the system of transportation reaches!
[He starts past her. She grabs his arm.]
Don't grab at me, Mother!
AMANDA. Where are you going?
Tom. I'm going to the movies!
AMANDA. I don't believe that lie!
TOM [crouching toward her, overtowering her tiny figure. She backs away, gasping.]. I'm going to opium dens! Yes, opium dens, dens of vice and criminals' hang-outs, Mother. I've joined the Hogan gang, I'm a hired assassin, I carry a tommy-gun in a violin case! I run a string of cat-houses in the Valley! They call me Killer, Killer Wingfield, I'm leading a double-life, a simple, honest warehouse worker by day, by night, a dynamic czar of the underworld, Mother. I go to gambling casinos, I spin away fortunes on the roulette table! I wear a patch over one eye and a false mustache, sometimes I put on green whiskers. On those occasions they call me--El Diablo! Oh, I could tell you things to make you sleepless! My enemies plan to dynamite this place. They're going to blow us all sky-high some night! I'll be glad, very happy, and so will you! You'll go up, up on a broomstick, over Blue Mountain with seventeen gentlemen callers! You ugly--babbling old--witch. . . .
Tom. You think I'm in love with the Continental Shoemakers? You think I want to spend fifty-five years down there in that--celotex interior! with fluorescent--tubes! Look! I'd rather somebody picked up a crowbar and battered out my brains--than go back mornings! I go! Every time you come in yelling that God damn "Rise and Shine!" "Rise and Shinel" I say to myself, "How lucky dead people are!" But I get up. I go! For sixty-five dollars a month I give up all that I dream of doing and being ever! And you say self--self's all I ever think of. Why, listen, if self is what I thought of, Mother, I'd be where he is--GONE! [Pointing to father's picture] As far as the system of transportation reaches!
[He starts past her. She grabs his arm.]
Don't grab at me, Mother!
AMANDA. Where are you going?
Tom. I'm going to the movies!
AMANDA. I don't believe that lie!
TOM [crouching toward her, overtowering her tiny figure. She backs away, gasping.]. I'm going to opium dens! Yes, opium dens, dens of vice and criminals' hang-outs, Mother. I've joined the Hogan gang, I'm a hired assassin, I carry a tommy-gun in a violin case! I run a string of cat-houses in the Valley! They call me Killer, Killer Wingfield, I'm leading a double-life, a simple, honest warehouse worker by day, by night, a dynamic czar of the underworld, Mother. I go to gambling casinos, I spin away fortunes on the roulette table! I wear a patch over one eye and a false mustache, sometimes I put on green whiskers. On those occasions they call me--El Diablo! Oh, I could tell you things to make you sleepless! My enemies plan to dynamite this place. They're going to blow us all sky-high some night! I'll be glad, very happy, and so will you! You'll go up, up on a broomstick, over Blue Mountain with seventeen gentlemen callers! You ugly--babbling old--witch. . . .
Glass Menagerie.
Read the part of the gentleman caller for class a long time ago. Very strong connection with the role.
Dear Mr. Penny Arcade Persons of Indeterminate Gender (unlike you I do not gender or other persons for the sake of your sick heteronormative speciest racist sexist genderist bivisualist sizist ageist ableist patriarchal "humour" (notice how I spelled humour with a U because I am a transethnic half-Welsh half-human),
I find your current "comic" (which would mean humour which it is most definitely NOT) to be incredibly offensive to my friends (furynds), the raccoon-kin (NOT coon-kin you RACISTS) brothers/sisters/systers/family/famyly/homily/hominy/hegemony and FURTHERMORE,
Tom. You think I'm in love with the Continental Shoemakers? You think I want to spend fifty-five years down there in that--celotex interior! with fluorescent--tubes! Look! I'd rather somebody picked up a crowbar and battered out my brains--than go back mornings! I go! Every time you come in yelling that God damn "Rise and Shine!" "Rise and Shinel" I say to myself, "How lucky dead people are!" But I get up. I go! For sixty-five dollars a month I give up all that I dream of doing and being ever! And you say self--self's all I ever think of. Why, listen, if self is what I thought of, Mother, I'd be where he is--GONE! [Pointing to father's picture] As far as the system of transportation reaches!
[He starts past her. She grabs his arm.]
Don't grab at me, Mother!
AMANDA. Where are you going?
Tom. I'm going to the movies!
AMANDA. I don't believe that lie!
TOM [crouching toward her, overtowering her tiny figure. She backs away, gasping.]. I'm going to opium dens! Yes, opium dens, dens of vice and criminals' hang-outs, Mother. I've joined the Hogan gang, I'm a hired assassin, I carry a tommy-gun in a violin case! I run a string of cat-houses in the Valley! They call me Killer, Killer Wingfield, I'm leading a double-life, a simple, honest warehouse worker by day, by night, a dynamic czar of the underworld, Mother. I go to gambling casinos, I spin away fortunes on the roulette table! I wear a patch over one eye and a false mustache, sometimes I put on green whiskers. On those occasions they call me--El Diablo! Oh, I could tell you things to make you sleepless! My enemies plan to dynamite this place. They're going to blow us all sky-high some night! I'll be glad, very happy, and so will you! You'll go up, up on a broomstick, over Blue Mountain with seventeen gentlemen callers! You ugly--babbling old--witch. . . .
Glass Menagerie.
Read the part of the gentleman caller for class a long time ago. Very strong connection with the role.
Comments
see I'd totally watch My Little Pony if it were more like this
Also in Super Paper Mario the Mega Muth enemies have the same amount of HP as the final boss, what the fuck?
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
Read the part of the gentleman caller for class a long time ago. Very strong connection with the role.
Assassin poems, Poems that shoot
guns. Poems that wrestle cops into alleys
and take their weapons leaving them dead
And Tom's pretty awesome.
Heck, the entire play's awesome.
Regular computer going-about-doing-thingies: E=nkt
Pipelined superstar shit: E = (k+n-1)t