Hey, welcome to the super cool low-tech search page! To search for something, hit Ctrl+F (or Apple+F) and type what you're looking for. Let your browser do all the.
pas de pub. rien que le porno premium pour en avoir plein vos yeux bienvenue À la meilleure expÉrience porno que vous ayez jamais eue. enfin, l'expÉrience porno.
Jail Break Bard Quest Problem Sleuth Homestuck -. Just going to leave this here for now, and assume that the kids these days will know what to do with it. More fantastic music by many familiar names who have contributed to the comic over the years. Thanks to all who came together to make this. Hey, welcome to the super cool low-tech search page! Let your browser do all the work!!!
A young man stands in his bedroom. Though it was thirteen years ago he was given life, it is only today he will be given a name!. What will the name of this young man be? Your name is JOHN. As was previously mentioned it is your BIRTHDAY. A number of CAKES are scattered about your room. You have a variety of INTERESTS. You have a passion for REALLY TERRIBLE MOVIES. You like to program computers but you are NOT VERY GOOD AT IT. You have a fondness for PARANORMAL LORE, and are an aspiring AMATEUR MAGICIAN.
You also like to play GAMES sometimes. What will you do? Your ARMS are in your MAGIC CHEST, pooplord! You retrieve your FAKE ARMS from the chest. You use these for HILARIOUS ANTICS. You have no idea what that actually means though. There are other items in the chest.
In here you keep an array of humorous and mystical ARTIFACTS, each girls men want a devastating weapon in the hands of a SKILLED MAGICIAN or a CUNNING PRANKSTER.
You are neither of these things. Some of this stuff may come in handy at some point. For now, you decide to just take the SMOKE PELLETS. Unfortunately, you cannot access the FAKE ARMS! You will have to use the pellets first in order to access the arms. You were never all that great with data structures and you find the concept puzzling and mildly irritating.
But with any hope, perhaps you will advance new, more practical FETCH MODI for your SYLLADEX with a little more experience. Is it even possible to get any more hard boiled than that? You really doubt it. This poster was one of your wisest purchases. There is a nice spot on the wall next to it.
This note is rich with the aromas of FATHERLY AFTERSHAVES AND COLOGNES. Beside the note is a ROLLED UP POSTER. You wonder what is printed on the poster. They will come in handy. You first place the HAMMER into your SYLLADEX. You wonder what will happen if you try to take the NAILS?
The FAKE ARMS are pushed entirely out of the deck!!!. In any case, you now feel like you have gathered enough things to get down to business and do some really important stuff.
The next thing you do will probably be exceptionally meaningful. And yet the polished surface of your desk. You MERGE the top two cards. You use the HAMMER and NAILS card IN CONJUNCTION with the card beneath it. You use the HAMMER, NAILS, and POSTER on the blank space on the wall. Exactly what you wanted. The old man really came through this time.
PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX. I SAID, PUT THE BUNNY BACK IN THE BOX. Films about impending apocalypse fascinate you. Plus, a black president??? Another day you marked was supposed to be the arrival date for the highly touted SBURB BETA LAUNCH. You are sick to death of cake!!! And you have no intention of clogging your SYLLADEX with it either.
The CAKE stays put for now. You hear a notice h3h3 how to pick up girls your COMPUTER, h3h3 how to pick up girls. Someone is messaging you. You pull up to your COMPUTER. This is where you spend most of your time. You decorated your desktop with some rather handsome WALLPAPER which you made yourself.
You are really proud of it. Your desktop is also littered with various PROGRAMMING PROJECT FILES. You are so bad at programming sometimes you wonder why you even bother with it. Your PESTERCHUM application is flashing. Someone is trying to get in touch with you. Only one of your CHUMS is logged in. TG: hey so what sort of insane loot did you rake in today.
TG: oh hell that is such a coincidence i just found an unopened container of apple juice in my closet it is like fucking christmas up in here. EB: ok thats fine, but i just have one question and then a word of caution. TG: the seal on the bottle is unbroken. TG: are you suggesting someone put piss in my apple juice at the factory.
EB: try using your brain numbnuts. TG: why did the fat kid or whoever drank it know what piss tasted like. TG: i mean his reaction was nigh instantaneous. TG: ok i can accept that. TG: monster B-list celebrity douchebags are cunning and persistent pranksters.
TG: also fred savage has a really punchable face, h3h3 how to pick up girls. TG: but who cares about this lets stop talking about it. TG: did you get the beta yet. TG: man i got two copies already. TG: but i dont care im not going to play it or anything the game sounds boring. TG: did you see how it got slammed in game bro???? EB: game bro is a joke and we both know it. TG: why dont you go check your mail maybe its there now, h3h3 how to pick up girls.
You see the view of your yard from your window. Hanging from the tree is your TIRE SWING. That is to say, HE CAN HARDLY BE CONSIDERED A TERRIBLY PROPER GENTLEMAN AT ALL.
And there beside your driveway is the mailbox. The little red arm-swingy-dealy thing or whatever it is called is flipped up!. What the hell is that thing called anyway.
You do not have time for these semantics. The red flippy-lever thing means you have new mail. And that means the beta might be here! You are about to hurry down stairs when you hear a car pull into the driveway.
It looks like your DAD has returned from the grocery store. He is beating you to the mail. If you go down stairs to get it, he will likely monopolize hours of your time. You decide to chill out up here for a while until the dust settles. Sometimes you feel like you are trapped in this room.
Stuck, if you will, in a sense which possibly borders on the titular. And now your chum is pestering you again. The clockwork of friendship turns ceaselessly, operating the swing-lever dealies of harassment in perpetuity!.
The dude can just hold his damn horses. Good grief this thing is huge. It how to meet and pick up women kill a cat if you dropped it. You are not sure you are ready to logjam your other ARTIFACTS beneath it just yet. What did you just say?? This unsurprisingly does nothing whatsoever. Oh, right, you forgot your chum is still pestering you. TG: is it there.
TG: plz say yes. TG: maybe you can play with TT shes h3h3 how to pick up girls pestering me all day about it. TG: shes mackin on me so hard all the time i start to feel embarrassed for her, h3h3 how to pick up girls. TG: i mean not that i can blame her or anything. EB: yes, it is understandable because you are really attractive.
TG: whats your modus. TG: how do you retrieve artifacts from it. EB: what is yours? TG: my bro taught me a few tricks he basically knows everything and is awesome. EB: what the hell is that? TG: you should probably brush up on your data structures. TG: did you at least allocate your strife specibus. TG: it could free up a card for you.
TG: plus let you attack stuff whenever things get too hot to handle. TG: which is never. TG: what have you got. TG: wow you really suck at this dont you. TG: just get rid of the arms and then allocate the hammer to the specibus. TG: i dont know just use the arms on any old thing and see if it works.
You stick the FAKE ARMS in the CAKE on your h3h3 how to pick up girls. You check the back of your STRIFE SPECIBUS for the KIND ABSTRATUS you have in mind for it. Your STRIFE SPECIBUS has been ALLOCATED with the HAMMERKIND Tinder icebreakers. EB: ok, i did it.
TG: ok that will be the permanent allocation for your specibus. TG: i guess i should have mentioned that. TG: hope you like hammers dude! Ordinarily this ridiculous book would be way too heavy to carry around in any practical way.
You guess maybe this is one respect in which the cards present some convenience. It might come in handy if you ever need something that burns easily. Who is this "John" you speak of?
You are quite certain there has never been, nor ever will be. Yeah, this is a really shitty disguise. While you are wearing the items, they remain on the card, but it is temporarily removed from the deck, thus freeing up the cards beneath it. You exit into the HALLWAY. On one wall hangs a picture of a fella who sure knows how to have a laugh, a man after your own heart. You always thought he looked a lot like Michael Cera.
But your DAD swears on the many HALLOWED TOMBS of Egypt that it is not. Or HARLEQUINS, as he is quick to correct anyone who would venture such brazen assumption. The accursed odor of fresh baking wafts into your newfound nostrils.
Something is brewing in the KITCHEN. It must be the connivings of your arch nemesis, BETTY CROCKERand the rich, buttery aroma of her plot stinks to high heaven. This mission is going to be more difficult than you imagined. You check out the shelves of FANCIFUL HARLEQUINS. Look at this fucking garbage. You hate this stuff. Funny is funny, but your DAD sure can be a real cornball. Sometimes at night you pray for burglars. A bright orange flame flickers in the FIREPLACE, h3h3 how to pick up girls.
A fire BELONGS in a FIREPLACE, dammit, cata ptcha gorically, at all times, without exception. You are almost certain Mark Twain said that. For big ups to Mother Earth, yo. When your father gives her portrait a wistful glance now and then, you can tell it brings back painful memories. He never wants to talk about it. You clumsily mishandle the SACRED URN. In retrospect, upon mulling cinematic tropes regarding ash-filled urns, this outcome was a virtual certainty.
You think now would be a good time to beef up your CLEVER DISGUISE. Contemplating what could be inside this package is sort of exciting, but it makes you a little nervous at the same time. First you prop the HARLEQUIN DOLL up on the couch. Having it in the middle of the floor sprawled out all akimbo like that struck you as unseemly. You merge the SACRED URN with the ASHES.
Really it probably would have been tidier if you just used a broom and dustpan. No one will be the wiser. Except maybe for people with eyes. You just got another BRILLIANT idea for something to do with those pointless arms. Looks like PESTERCHUM is acting up again. Another one of your chums is messaging you. TT: I understand you have recently come into possession of the beta release of "The Game of the Year", as featured in respectable periodicals such as GameBro Magazine.
EB: whoever told you that is a filthy liar. EB: and you should probably stop hitting on him all the time or whatever. TT: I must have a weakness for insufferable pricks. TT: You are typing to me right now while wearing something ridiculous. EB: no, why would you even think that?? EB: alright, wish me luck. EB: jk I was wearing a funny disguise this whole time.
TT: I know, John. You can now execute that brilliant idea you had. There should be just enough FROSTING on the FAKE ARMS to serve as an adequate adhesive. You put this back in the fire where it belongs. You can carry hefty items, but that thing is just way too big. You thought about consulting the text to determine exactly how hilarious the doll is now. But this text is way too big to navigate in a timely fashion.
You decide to forget it. The door on the left leads to the KITCHEN, from which the smell of baking wafts - a powerful aroma which could lift an especially portly hobo off his feet.
The door on the right leads to the STUDY, where your DAD spends a lot of time. He could be in either room. Where will you go? There is also a CAN OF PEANUTS on the desk. Ha ha, oh DAD. A severe peanut allergy is a terrible affliction to cope with. This disguise is somewhat less funny, but A LOT more distinguished looking. Your DAD maintains numerous pipes around the household.
A father without a pipe is like a strapping roughneck without a toothpick, h3h3 how to pick up girls. That is to say, HE IS A RATHER PISS-POOR EXCUSE FOR A ROUGHNECK IF YOU ASK ME. The first one tastes bad enough as it is. How you suffer for your comedy. This will be perfect for expanding the space in your SYLLA. Pages including sound will be preceded by [S] in the command. Look at this mess.
The peanut gallery over there sure is getting a kick out of it. You are allergic to their scorn. You go back into the LIVING ROOM and contemplate checking the mailbox outside. You think perhaps you should exhaust all possibilities before plunging headlong into a DAD encounter. Your TELEVISION is currently airing a COMMERCIAL. You exit the house. Predictably, the mailbox is empty.
You have already been scooped by your father. The streets are empty. Wind skims the voids keeping neighbors apart, as if grazing the hollow of a cut reed, or say, a plundered mailbox.
A familiar note is produced. It is your thirteenth birthday, and as with all twelve preceding it, something feels missing from your life. The game presently eluding you is only the latest sleight of hand in the repertoire of an unseen riddler, one to engender a sense not of mirth, but of lack.
His coarse schemes are those less of a prankster than a common pickpocket. His riddle is Absence itself. It is the most diabolical riddle of all. Yes, you are certain Walt Whitman said that. One hundred percent positive.
The door is locked and your DAD has the CAR KEYS. There is also something underneath it that looks like a slip of paper. Could these items have come in the mail? Maybe your DAD forgot to take this stuff inside. It seems your DAD has how to pick up girls prank doing so much baking, the glass has steamed up.
God he is so weird. It looks like the mail is there! Unfortunately, the window is locked. You have no other choice. You are going in. Your DAD sees right through your costume! You unequip the CLEVER DISGUISE. Your DAD wields a dreaded ARTIFACT OF CONFECTION. He stands between you and the mail. There is only one way to settle this. This pesky GUARDIAN is blocking your path! You will need to engineer some sort of distraction. And now he brandishes yet another ARTIFACT OF CONFECTION!
The man is ruthless. The BEAGLE AEGIS absorbs the brunt of the treat. You take PIE TIN and unequip the H3h3 how to pick up girls PUSS. Everything in your SYLLADEX is pushed back a card. The SMOKE PELLETS are ejected from the deck. This could be just the distraction you were. What a huge letdown. Wise words by a man who likely could resist everything but temptation. Sassacre you beautiful bastard.
Now that DAD is busy placating the SMOKE DETECTOR, you can safely sneak away. Besides, it may come in handy later. You now have five cards to work with. This RED PACKAGE is addressed to you.
You got the SBURB BETA!!! You then merge the two CAKES across all five cards. Everything in your SYLLADEX is smushed between the CAKES. You pause at the juncture and head down the hall. You are going to need something to clean up the mess you are about to make by dissecting this CAKE. To the left is the BATHROOM. It is locked, and you are forbidden from ever entering. You enter the BATHROOM.
You can see your BACK YARD from the window. The jewel in its crown is the SWING SET which has provided you with years of joy, h3h3 how to pick up girls. There is also a SPRING-MOUNTED POGO-RIDE, which has been responsible for more than one painful injury, and has provided you with years of lament. On the rack to the side is a FRESH TOWEL.
You take the RAZOR and use it to perform surgery on the CAKE. You take the TOWEL and clean off the extracted goods. The items force the MANHANDLED CAKE into the TOILET. And just like that, your SYLLADEX is full again. God this thing is annoying. This is your "McConaughey Wall", a casual shrine to an amazing actor. The film above that one is a lot better, you think. CAN YOU SEE HER? I WANT YOU TO PICTURE THAT LITTLE GIRL, h3h3 how to pick up girls.
You artist girl us Matthew! Your smooth talking exposed our latent racism! Damn you are good! GG: hi happy birthday john!!!!! GG: h3h3 how to pick up girls i will talk to you later!!! TG: hey GG is looking for you why are you even so popular all of a sudden. TG: is today some sort of special occasion or something. TG: did you do something to curry favor with ladies.
TG: did you break your leg on a puppy or some shit. TG: dude what are you doing. EB: i discovered a comet that is going to destroy the earth, and it was named after me. EB: now i am famous, and everyone wants to talk to me a lot. TG: dont talk about your awful fat kid picking up chicks movies or make references to them.
TG: your gross man-bro crush on matt macconahay is an unsavory thing to behold. TG: sounds like a noise a horse would make. TG: equally dumb are all those pictures of that clown youve got hanging up. TG: i was talking about nick cage. TG: ha ha so lame. TG: you dont even like him ironically or anything this is like for real isnt it.
EB: i do things ironically sometimes. EB: what about what i sent you for your birthday? TG: no those are awesome. TG: im wearing them ironically. TG: because theyre awesome. TG: the fact that theyre ironic makes them awesome. TG: and vice versa. H3h3 how to pick up girls are you taking notes on how to be cool?? TG: anyway speaking of which. TG: did you get the mail, h3h3 how to pick up girls. TG: did there happen to be a package there.
TG: you should probably open it. TG: oh man the beta came. TG: haha no way. TG: it sounds so HELLS of boring just get TT to play it she is all about that. TG: her internet is blinking in and out i guess. TG: probably be back online soon. TG: oh and christ in a sidecar are you still using the stack modus??? TG: you need to BONE UP on your data structures that shit is just ridiculous. EB: ok, i will.
You decide to space out on the computer for a while before doing anything important. You open the TYPHEUS web browser and direct it to what is indisputably the most amazing website ever created. You insert the CD and install the SBURB BETA. What the fuck is this. You go to your CLOSET, where you keep a lot of clothes and an array of handy COMPUTER PROGRAMMING GUIDES. It looks really boring. And kind of ornery. You turn to the back inside cover, where a free FETCH MODUS is included in a plastic sleeve.
This one is dictated by the logic of a QUEUE DATA STRUCTURE, operating on a "First In, First Out" method, rather than a "First In, Last Out" method of a STACK.
You can only use the item on the bottom card, and must wait for items on upper cards to be pushed back to it. For instance, the RED PACKAGE is now inaccessible. You can only use the RAZOR at the moment. In fact, it almost seems more inconvenient. You figure you might as well give it a chance though.
You suddenly wonder if this is even possible. The second CAKE causes the RAZOR to launch out the front of your SYLLADEX.
You wish the RAZOR would have failed to launch. There goes the FRESH TOWEL. You take the TRICK HANDCUFFS, expelling the PDA like a bullet. You examine the package. It is from one of your internet chums. You take three GLASS SHARDS in quick succession and duck for cover. Your SYLLADEX rains devastation on your room from above. You should probably go get that stuff before you forget. You open the package. There is something suspicious inside. Something suspiciously dirty and smelly.
It is a STUFFED BUNNY. But he was a good man. But no, it is not merely LIKE that bunny. According to this NOTE OF AUTHENTICITY, it is the VERY SAME BUNNY. This is so awesome. It looks like your computer is trying to get your attention.
TT: It looks like you managed to retrieve the beta. EB: whoa ok but i just got the most awesome present. Its Homeric legend is practically ensconced in the fold of my personal mythology by now.
EB: ha ha, what? EB: oh the game, ok. TT: You are running the client application. I am running the server, so I am the host user. I have established a connection with you. This is sufficient for us to play the game. EB: oh, ok then. EB: whoa, what are you doing?? EB: is my magic chest on the roof now?? TT: I will try to be more careful next time. You find your missing STACK FETCH MODUS, and quickly reapply it to your SYLLADEX.
You can now opt for either the STACK or QUEUE modus any time. You toggle between your FETCH MODI with gleeful abandon. It looks like your DAD is leaving again for more baking supplies. Or all the shit you threw out the window, for that matter. EB: hey, h3h3 how to pick up girls, do you think you could do me a favor? EB: can you grab all that stuff outside my broken window and bring it in for me? TT: It appears to be out of range.
You cannot select a PLAYER!. JOHN abjures the meddlesome cursor. TT: It seems expanding the dimensions of your room cost us some "Build Grist", h3h3 how to pick up girls. TT: But deploying the lathe did not appear to incur any expense. TT: It looks like certain objects are freebies, probably to help you set up the game. EB: what do they do? TT: All I can do is drop stuff in your house, and move it around, apparently.
EB: how do i move stuff around? You will need to install the server application. TT: You should have received both in separate envelopes. I am running both on my computer right now. TT: Did you get another envelope in the mail? EB: i think i might know where it is. TT: It will extend the range of the cursor, h3h3 how to pick up girls, and I can reach the items. TT: What have you been doing in here all afternoon, anyway?
EB: ugh, i was fussing with my retarded sylladex. EB: but i think i have it under control now. EB: what modus do you use? TT: I like to use trees. EB: oh no, that sounds so awkward. TT: But I think they are elegant. EB: why is the floor shaking? EB: are you dropping more stuff in my house? Two more large gizmos. EB: what is with all these big contraptions? TT: If I had to guess, they appear to facilitate a sort of system involving punch card-based alchemy. EB: to what end?
EB: i mean what are we supposed to be doing in this game? TT: That remains to be seen. TT: Maybe you should go investigate?
You grab the PDA, switching back to STACK MODUS so it is readily accessible. The interface is oddly sterile. No hilarious clown wallpapers or anything like that. Oops, you mean harlequin wallpapers. The SERIOUS BUSINESS application is open. It seems your DAD uses it to keep tabs on various best free adult sex chat. You guess the performing arts must be pretty serious business after all. This should be useful.
Now you can keep tabs on your chums while you wander around the girl picking up girls. TT: The one you threw into the yard? EB: no, i am telling you. EB: it jumped out of my sylladex like a frightened weasel. TT: What were you doing with it in the first place? TT: I am not sensing a lot of regard for the personal property of others.
TT: Is this how your pent-up frustration with your father manifests itself? EB: those were all accidents. EB: please take your psycho-babblery elsewhere, miss! TT: Your bathroom is a mess. TT: Did you do that too? EB: all this snooping nonsense! EB: h3h3 how to pick up girls, if that will satisfy your weird ocd complex then go ahead. TT: My Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder complex? TT: Can a disorder also be a complex?
EB: in your case, probably! EB: i am going to have a look at this enormous platformy thing you put on the balcony. You have no idea what to do with this thing. Having exhausted all other possibilities, you just decide to stand on it. It is a clear, sunny day. Nothing out of the ordinary to report. At least, not beyond the walls of your own home.
EB: what was that noise? EB: is this something i should go investigate? TT: No, I have it under control. TT: You can keep playing with your telescope. TT: I think I can patch it up. TT: Just give me a little space. TT: The thing I put in your living room. You jump down to the UTILITY ROOM.
It looks like another one of your chums is pestering you on your PDA. GG: john did you get my package?? EB: no, not yet. EB: he should be back soon. EB: i am up to my neck in this sburb stuff. EB: TT is making a royal mess of my house. EB: oh, it is this game.
GG: whoa what was that????? EB: what was what? GG: there was a loud noise outside my house!! GG: it sounded like an explosion!!!! GG: i will go outside and look. EB: oh man, alright but be careful, ok? EB: oh hell no, you put this thing in front of the door?
TT: I just thought it fit nicely into that groove. EB: you mean you thought it was elegant? EB: ok well what do i do with this thing.
EB: what are you doing up there now? When you h3h3 how to pick up girls the wheel, something seems to be pushing up from underneath the lid. EB: you can see me, right. EB: tell me what is wrong with this picture. I keep losing the wireless signal. TT: Must be the weather. TT: I battled through her cloud of gin and derision once already this evening.
EB: haha, yeah I hear you. Cake, jesters, unfaltering love and support. TT: Quite a road to hoe there. EB: what about going outside? TT: That presents the same problem. TT: Yes, the sun has already had its way with us here on the east coast. TT: Its lurid glare has moved on to younger timezones. EB: haha, um, ok. TT: Need some help? EB: what is this thing? EB: and what is that clock counting down to? TT: Hold while I read further. TT: All of these walkthroughs are extremely short.
TT: None progress much further than this point. EB: well, i mean it is a new game. TT: Now that the lid is off, you will need to extrude some "Cruxite". TT: I feel like we should be hurrying. That countdown is making me nervous. Scam websites finder Anyway, it looks like you are going to need this card too.
A SHARD OF GLASS is expelled from the deck and maims the HARLEQUIN DOLL. The additional useless freight pushes your PDA to the last card. You then switch to the QUEUE MODUS so you can access the PDA. More glass shrapnel flies from the deck. EB: this thing keeps following me around. TT: That is probably the group of hot girls. TT: It apparently needs to be "prototyped".
TT: Whatever the hell that means. TT: These walkthroughs are horrendously written. EB: well, you are the one with the cursor so just do whatever you think is the right thing to do!
EB: also, h3h3 how to pick up girls, fix my bathroom. The KERNELSPRITE has been prototyped with the HARLEQUIN DOLL. TT: That was only "Tier One Prototyping". TT: There is still another tier to the prototyping process. TT: Which for all we know merely advances this entity through increasingly esoteric states of linguistics.
EB: the clock is ticking. TT: This unmitigated poppycock? TT: Try to learn the lingo. There is no slot for a card anywhere to be found on the ALCHEMITER!. The KERNELSPRITE followed you upstairs. Acquiring a CRUXITE DOWEL seems to have populated the ATHENEUM with one item: a PERFECTLY GENERIC OBJECT. You snatch the TELESCOPE from its TRIPOD. Who knows, it might be useful.
But more importantly, it pushes the CRUXITE to the last card making it available for tinkering. These things look completely useless. You switch back to STACK MODUS and get a closer look with your TELESCOPE. Whatever it is, the KERNELSPRITE seems particularly agitated about it. This is a troubling development. However, units of BUILD GRIST are a gaming abstraction and do not seem to exist on the physical plane!. There is apparently no crisis so imminent that will deter you from contemplating idiotic and frivolous actions.
TT: Your dad is getting home. TT: What did you do with your PDA this time? TT: But we are running low on Build Grist. Rich girls group chums have been trying to message you. TT: Do you suppose it has anything to do with the game?
TT: The walkthroughs vaguely suggest an impending threat before they end. TT: The already poorly constructed sentences become even more curt and ambiguous. TT: As if written hastily and with a sense of alarm, h3h3 how to pick up girls. TT: Actually, their dedication to updating the walkthrough under such circumstances is admirable.
TT: Try using the lathe. TT: Really, it is a labor to read this drivel. TT: If I read any more my brain will need to be spoon-fed from a jar. TT: While it blows spit bubbles in a highchair. TT: I think I will write my own walkthrough. TG: i heard you got the box.
TG: i hope you appreciate my heroic fatherly perseverance in getting it to you. TG: in my rough and tumble dirty wifebeaterly sort of way. TG: also i hope you appreciate how many no-talent douches had their mitts on that bunny before you. TG: its like a grubby baton adult frins some huge douchebag marathon. TG: hey where are you.
EB: TT is breaking everything in my house. TG: dude i told you to steer clear of that game. TG: and for that matter you should probably wash your hands of flighty broads and their snarky horseshit altogether. EB: in the sky. EB: heading right for my house!!!!!!!! TG: how big is it. EB: big, i guess. EB: i gotta go! TG: like the size of texas. TG: or just rhode island. TG: theyre always throwing around these geographical comparisons to give us a sense of scale like it really means anything to us.
TG: but its like it doesnt matter its always just like: WOW THATS PRETTY FUCKING BIG. TG: like mr president theres a meteor coming sir. TG: or, how big is it? TG: sir im afraid the comet is the size of your moms dick. TG: sir are you familiar with jupiter. TG: you mean like the planet? TG: well its that big sir. TG: hmm that sounds pretty big. TG: i have a question. TG: is it jupiter?
TG: yes girl pick up guy, earth is literally under seige by planet fucking jupiter. You slip the PRE-PUNCHED CARD into a slot on the TOTEM LATHE. Above, the TOOL ARM deploys a configuration of chisels. Now you just need something to lathe. Cursing your lack of foresight, you return to the BALCONY for the CRUXITE DOWEL you left on the pedestal.
You navigate the hallway leery of your DAD, who is presently puzzling over the new fixture in his hallway. You retrieved the CRUXITE DOWEL. DAD just shrugs and heads back downstairs, presumably to do some more baking., h3h3 how to pick up girls. If only he knew you were hard at work saving his ass. You clamp the CRUXITE in the lathe. You take the TOTEM.
EB: alright, i used the lathe to make this blue shapey thing. EB: now i guess i take it back to the alchemixer again? A young lady stands in her bedroom. Due to a violent storm, her house has just lost power, along with her wireless internet connection. This has severed her link to a popular video game she was playing with a young man at a critical moment.
That young man is relying on this young lady to reestablish a connection somehow. This young lady named. What was the name of this young lady again? Your name is ROSE. As was previously mentioned you are without ELECTRICITY, although your LAPTOP COMPUTER still functions on BATTERY POWER. You have a passion for RATHER OBSCURE LITERATURE. You enjoy creative writing and are SOMEWHAT SECRETIVE ABOUT IT. You have a fondness for the BESTIALLY STRANGE AND FICTITIOUS, and sometimes dabble in PSYCHOANALYSIS.
You also like to KNIT, and your room is a BIT OF A MESS. And on occasion, if just the right one strikes your fancy, you like to play VIDEO GAMES with your friends. No one is allowed to look inside. Ugh, what a terrible idea! The thought alone makes you sick to your stomach. You would only resort to such an embarrassing activity while no one was watching!!!.
These journals are for your eyes only. Nice time management skills there, sweetheart! Since your good for nothing friend is obviously not going to bail you out in time, you issue words of parting fondness to dear, sweet Liv. Oh, if only Affleck could have been the one to make the final sacrifice instead of her stubborn, blue collar, salt-of-the-earth father. Then she would fall into your arms for consolation, and YOU would be the one to make the deceased Bruce Willis proud, h3h3 how to pick up girls.
You get the KNITTING BAG. Your panoramic window offers a view of your yard below, and the mausoleum housing your dead cat, JASPERS, who died when you were young. Your MOM had the structure erected with a spirit of scornful IRONY in response to your youthfully innocent request to hold a funeral for the animal.
At least, that is how you have come to interpret the gesture in retrospect. You can also make out a silhouette of the LABORATORY next door, a facility which likely broadcasts a strong WIRELESS INTERNET SIGNAL. You may be able to connect to the signal from a different part of the house. Perhaps if you seek higher ground?
You take your LAPTOP and prepare to make the journey through the house. This causes the tree to be unbalanced, so your SYLLADEX auto-balances itself. Now the LAPTOP occupies the ROOT CARD, while the other two items comprise the LEAVES. This book is absolutely indispensable for enthusiasts of your ilk. Of which there are very few. You take the GRIMOIRE. You leave your BEDROOM. Hanging just next to your door in the hallway is a painting of an EXQUISITE WIZARD. Your mother collects these awful things IRONICALLY.
She must russell brand pick up artist how much you detest them, h3h3 how to pick up girls, and there is no doubt in your mind she stores these dreadful things in the house to bother you.
Down the hall to the right is the way to the OBSERVATORY. Perhaps you will be able to connect from up there?. You will have to watch your step, h3h3 how to pick up girls. You approach a juncture in the hallway. Beyond the juncture is the OBSERVATORY. This door leads up to the OBSERVATORY. The door opens to an exterior walkway, leading to the observatory entrance. You first put your LAPTOP down on the floor to get it situated.
But removing it from the ROOT CARD causes all the branches and leaves to be severed! Your items are dumped unceremoniously on the floor. You find a gap in the clouds.
It seems a flurry of smaller METEOROIDS is streaking steadily overhead. There are several signals being broadcasted from the LABORATORY, each of relatively decent strength. One of them is mysteriously and quite conveniently UNSECURED, requiring no password. You select the signal, and reconnect to the game with John. EB: hurry up and open my door!!!!!! TT: I believe it will create free adult personals websites item on the punch card.
EB: so what is it, like an apple or something? EB: what good will that even do? TT: And the content of the card appears to be variable from session to session. TT: In one instance it was described as an "eggy loking thign" [sic]. EB: do we have enough of those building jewels to make it? TT: According to the Atheneum, it is a free item. TT: This speaks to its importance, in my view. TT: Now off you go. There goes the rest of your BUILD GRIST.
You probably should have just done this in the first place. Got to get those stupid blocks out of the way first!. The KERNELSPRITE is getting awfully worked up about all this!
You store the PERFECTLY GENERIC OBJECTS in your PHERNALIA REGISTRY, potentially to be deployed at a later time. A WAYWARD VAGABOND records a stuttering step in the sun-bleached dust. The two halves go their separate ways, leaving behind the SPRITE portion.
What is left of the SPRITE undergoes a mysterious transformation. For a moment you thought you heard someone say "BOY", as if whispered in the periphery of your awareness.
It was probably just your imagination though. RETURN TO YOUR QUARTERS. You go back up to your bedroom, tiptoeing around this weird petroleum-based sludge.
RESPOND TO YOUR FRIEND UNIT. TT: Are you there? EB: and not dead i think. TT: You should have answered me sooner. EB: have you seen him? TT: We have more important things to address right now. EB: yeah, like where am i?? Wherever you were transported, it saved you from the impact. TT: And they seem to be getting bigger. TT: Yes, but wait. TT: We should retrieve your PDA.
TT: It will help to keep tabs on each other while you investigate. TT: I h3h3 how to pick up girls I can get you closer to it, if I can replenish our grist supply somewhat. TT: There may be a way to recycle some that we already used. EB: you never even wished me a happy birthday! TT: I was working on something to send you, but I was running late with it. TT: That said, happy birthday, John.
EB: haha, oh jeez, that is silly! John makes his way to the balcony per your awkwardly-worded request. THE BLUE WOBBLY THING. RECYCLE THE GRIST AS WAS DICTATED BY YOUR COHORT. John cannot do anything with the GRIST as of this moment!
That is up to the Sburb player. Yes, that will suffice. Rose deletes the PERFECTLY GENERIC OBJECTS. Rose expends the GRIST to drag a new plank from the balcony in the direction of the PDA.
John is very nervous about the idea, and the strident tone of your commands is starting to make him a little upset! PROCEED AS YOUR LEVEL OF COMFORT DICTATES. You cautiously walk within range of the PDA. You grab the PDA, launching one of the HARLEQUIN FIGURINES into the night. You can kiss that one goodbye. TT: John, are you ok? TT: You seem a bit tentative. TT: Perhaps the early symptoms of an anxiety disorder, like post-traumatic stress?
TT: Well, if you can pull yourself together, there are a few more things we should try. TT: Like prototyping the Kernelsprite again, if possible. TT: We should hurry. I will go back inside. HOP OFF THIS LEDGE ON TO THAT CAR. That sounds incredibly dangerous! Which turnip truck did you just tumble out of, anyway?.
An unsealed tunnel welcomes hot desert air into its stagnant depths. In the distance, meteorites fall with greater frequency. The fire in the forest burns so hot, not even the rain is putting it out! EB: that sucks, what a stupid idea! TT: We have to hurry along. EB: but the cake mix. TT: I doubt it matters. TT: We might as well just use any old crap lying around. The SPRITE is playing h3h3 how to pick up girls to get!
EB: OH YES, SWEET!! TT: See if you can distract it. The SPRITE finds the DISTRACTING MANNER in which you FLAIL ABOUT to be rather DISTRACTING. The pesky SPRITE eludes you again! Not even the great Colonel himself can outfox it!!!. In narrowly missing with your attempt to create the COLONELSPRITE, you drop the massive tome, h3h3 how to pick up girls. The entire house rattles under the astonishing girth of the book.
You find the SACRED URN toppled again. The SPRITE is nowhere to be found. TT: No time to worry about it. TT: The next thing we should do is get your server copy of the game from the car. TT: You need to connect to my client, so I can repeat your steps and presumably join you, wherever you are. TT: We should do this quickly, before my dating inte sites burns down.
TT: There will be soon. EB: so move this thing already! TT: It looks like it requires a lot of grist to move. EB: how much do you have? EB: i thought about jumping to the car from the ledge earlier but that sounds really dangerous! TT: I have a better idea. TT: Meet me upstairs. You are about to head upstairs, but you thought you heard something behind you. It was faint, but you could swear it was a small, lighthearted chuckle. Along the lines of a spirited "Hoo-hoo-hoo!
But whatever it was you might have caught a glimpse of, it sure gave you the willies. You head upstairs on your way to the balcony. Your PDA is acting up again. BUT BE CURT WITH IT. TG: hey bro check it out im working on some new rhymes.
TG: come on this is hells of ill just listen. EB: but i really was, but now im in some weird dimension that sburb sent me to or something. TG: i think i could drop some sick rhymes about all this, h3h3 how to pick up girls.
TG: no thisll be dope check it. EB: no, i have to go! TG: but im-a gettin armed and dangerous. TG: sending men h3h3 how to pick up girls space for savin us. TG: ben or bruce? TG: put their blowchutes to use and up-suck it. TG: afflecks saclifice, i mean -crifice, would have to sufflice.
TG: bro be a stained-glass saint, up on a cross gettin hella christ-plagiarous. TG: restrained his ass per mclane-redux while buscemi remained derangerous. TG: when a plan gone astray pays off a wasted craterous.
TG: ash tray caterin to layers of matt maconnaheys vague remainder-dust. TG: macconahey wasnt even in any of those meteor movies was he. TG: ill have to make a rap about. TG: i dont know.
TG: morgan freeman or something. TG: being the president. TG: itll be called. TG: "obama made it so that no one gives a shit about black presidents in movies anymore". TG: see youve got to fill me in on whats going on.
TG: so i have something to rap about besides all your dumbshit movies. You head out to the balcony to find out what Rose has in mind. She is messaging you again.
TT: Once it is up, retrieve the game. EB: but the door is locked! TT: Then break a window. You double check your PDA to make sure if Rose is really gone. Indeed this seems to be the case.
TG is still pestering you of course. But another chum is now logged in as well. GG: i went to investigate the explosion i heard. EB: was it by any chance a meteor? GG: how did you know?? EB: anyway, are you ok? GG: no i am fine! GG: it landed a pretty good ways from my house and i went sex talk woman look at it. GG: and its pretty big! GG: but bec doesnt want me to go near it. GG: so i came home. GG: he seems to think its dangerous!
GG: anyway what have you been up to john? EB: yeah, i was trying to get it, but rose dropped my car into a weird spooky bottomless pit and the package was in the car and im really sorry about that. EB: wow, ok, i guess i should start at the beginning. EB: see, a meteor blew up my neighborhood. GG: thats terrible john! EB: that game i was telling you about, sburb which i was playing with rose, sort of transported me somewhere at the last minute.
GG: it sounds really crazy and kind of scary but. GG: it also sounds kind of h3h3 how to pick up girls GG: i dont know john maybe this is your destiny. GG: if anyone can save the world i think it is probably you! EB: wow, you think so? EB: well ok, BUT. EB: h3h3 how to pick up girls was about to connect to rose to help transport her and save her from meteors and fire and stuff. EB: but she lost battery power and i lost the game disc!
EB: so i think i have to get TG to use his copy to save her! GG: he is so silly! NOW VIEW THE RED TEXT AGAIN. TG: when the film crew zooms where the presidents at. TG: im like if that dudes black ill eat my hat. TG: its called freemancipation.
TG: in bruce almighty. TG: cant explain to me why this aint condescension to think ill shit a brick. TG: not even he can convey the intention with his quickspun wit. TG: rather defray all this tension, sit on his lap while he whittles a splint. EB: i have something important to talk about. EB: rose is in trouble and she needs help.
EB: also she lost battery power. EB: so i h3h3 how to pick up girls you should use your copy of the game to help her!
TG: thats going to be tough. TG: i lost it. TG: its a stupid story and id rather not talk about it. TG: shit be embarrassing yo.
EB: i thought you said you had two? TG: one is my brothers copy. EB: ok, well get his then! TG: but hes not gonna be happy about that. TG: look all im saying is the girl tends to lay it on kinda thick you know? Your LAPTOP is out of BATTERY POWER. Time to make your way to that BACKUP GENERATOR. That would be such a waste of time!. Besides, you already knitted one a while ago.
You retrieve it from your KNITTING H3h3 how to pick up girls and apply it to your LAPTOP. That would be incredibly ill-advised!. You understand this better than most. You put the book down. You grab the KNITTING BAG and the GRIMOIRE, in that order. The tree AUTO-BALANCES, leaving the KNITTING BAG accesible in the ROOT CARD. You feel a lot more comfortable with this as a weapon. You lose the ROOT CARD in the process, severing the tree.
Hey, careful with all that stuff! That would also be a preposterous waste of time!!! FLUTHLU, FOUL PATRICIAN OF MISERY. To hear his mammoth belly gurgle is to know the Epoch of Joy has come to an abrupt end. Whenever he grinds his teeth, all the children of a random galaxy somewhere will frown continuously for a nine thousand year span. He is the first and smallest of the SMALLER GODS, appointed in servitude of a vile, unfathomable pantheon of MIDDLING GODS which caters to the whims of the NOBLE CIRCLE OF HORRORTERRORS, an omniscient, omnipotent order of the elite few, forever cloaked in the darkness of the FURTHEST RING.
Frindfinder to get a move on! You wonder if this rain will ever let up. It no longer even knows to assuage fire. Somewhere a zealous god threads these strings between the clouds and the earth, preparing for a symphony it fears impossible to play. How you hate this season. Surely your mother is lurking nearby. You should be prepared for an unpleasant confron.
A cool dude like this probably has a real cool name. Busy being totally sweet. But you could always try to guess his name. And if you were right, he might nod ever so slightly. Your name is DAVE. It is an UNSEASONABLY WARM April day. Your BEDROOM WINDOW is open to let some air in, and your FAN is cranked. Arguably even more cranked would be your FLY BEATS, which brings us to your variety of INTERESTS. A cool dude like you is sure to have plenty.
You have a penchant for spinning out UNBELIEVABLY ILL JAMS with your TURNTABLES AND MIXING GEAR. You collect WEIRD DEAD THINGS PRESERVED IN VARIOUS WAYS. You are an AMATEUR PHOTOGRAPHER and operate your own MAKESHIFT DARKROOM. You maintain a number of IRONICALLY HUMOROUS BLOGS, WEBSITES, AND SOCIAL NETWORKING PROFILES. This notion strikes you as nonsensical. Anyway, these are your copies of the beta you received in the mail recently.
You would never consider allowing any fluid even remotely resembling urine to touch your beloved TURNTABLES. That sort h3h3 how to pick up girls thing only happens in stupid idiot movies local free sex sites stupid idiots.
You will however contemplate bleating like a goat for IRONICALLY HUMOROUS purposes at a later date. This is your closet. This is where you keep a lot of your crap. And that bottle of. It now contains nothing except a NOTE and a CERTIFICATE OF AUTHENTICITY vouching for the genuine Hollywood memorabilia which the box originally contained, and which you are now wearing to be IRONIC but also to be INCREDIBLY COOL IN A WAY SOMEHOW INTANGIBLY RELATED TO THE IRONIC NATURE OF THE ACCESSORY.
You find it sort of exasperating to explain these subtleties to people. The BOX also included a signed photo of BEN STILLER which now proudly hangs above your closet. The total is divided by your number of cards, and the remainder is the index.
It is an unopened container of APPLE JUICE. You thought you were all out. It is like fucking christmas up in here. This is so great. In your own cool, sort of roundabout way of course.
Good thing you looked at that box he sent you, or you might have forgotten. You also might as well ask him about that beta. It would be cool if it came on his birthday.
You open the HEPHAESTUS web browser and direct it to your ironically maintained blog where you post monthly satirical reviews of GAMEBRO MAGAZINE. Your latest post is a review of the MARCH ISSUE. In a new tab you open another one of your sites, a webcomic ironically maintained through a satirical cipher vaguely similar to that of your blog.
Which is just how you like h3h3 how to pick up girls. Your nefarious plots are serpentine in complexity. You are planning a heist in your underground hideout. You wonder what moron would jam the knife so hard into the table in the first place. A familiar feeling stirs.
That feeling is overwhelming, soul-blackening rage. You always forget to save your place in the story. It looks like tempers have become short in this pressure cooker already. TT: Either that, or flagrant homosexuality. TG: what oh no. TG: im busy ok. TG: ive got a lot of shit on my plate. TG: i am sort of a big deal ok? TT: Sometimes I wonder how you are ever allowed to pay for meals in sex chat work. TG: dudes be worshipping me left and right.
TG: i cant hardly walk down the street without stepping over torsos of the prostrate. TT: Perhaps adapting the art of parkour to your unique environment would help?
TG: i mean damn. TG: like theres this scruffy little shit at my feet. TG: an orphan or something i dont know. TG: face flush on the pavement.
TG: im like dude how to pick up girls without talking listening for a stampede of buffalo or something? TG: he braves a look at me then gives my shoe a little kiss and scurries the fuck off. TT: Heavy is the crown. TG: not kicking oliver twist in the fucking face every day is my gift to the world i guess. TG: among other things, h3h3 how to pick up girls.
TG: i just give and fucking give. TT: Indeed, nary a jewel tumbles from your wishbox of daily exploits which I imagine does not sparkle. TG: oh for fucks sake. TG: youre just lobbying for me to play that dumb game. TG: look i am telling you.
TG: egbert is ALL ABOUT that game. TG: he will play it with you and probably be tickled retarded about it. TT: I know this very well. TG: ill hassle him some more about it. TG: and look how about this. TG: if you ever find yourself in the position where your life depends on me playing that piece of shit game, then ill play. TG: will that make you happy. TT: More than you know.
TT: It perfectly mollifies my grief over the demise of chivalry. Meanwhile in the present, in a place where the present may be a concept of dubious merit, John is spacing out. But a vague and forceful thought jolts him to attention.
Or maybe it is that bumping sound coming from the other side of the door. A thick, unpleasant fluid pools from beneath the door, h3h3 how to pick up girls. There is a trail of this fluid in the hall leading to your room. Left knob: volume for current sample. Right knob: master volume. After beats that fresh, it would be a crime not to reward yourself with a celebratory SW I G. Your STRIFE SPECIBUS is already allocated with the BLADEKIND ABSTRATUS!
There is no need to allocate it. You can wield your sweet NINJA SWORD as a weapon once it is in your STRIFE DECK. It splashes all over your TURNTABLES and your copies of the BETA. You head out to get a TOWEL from the bathroom across the hall. Is there anything not awesome about your BRO? No, you think not. You enter the bathroom. Nah, you just decide to wring this towel out into the toilet to make it less damp.
In the breeze of the FAN, the betas jostle near the OPEN WINDOW. This arrangement is a little disconcerting. If they fell out, it sure would be a stupid way to lose them. The crisis is easily averted. That beta is as good as yours, forever. You should probably go pester Egbert again. You wonder if he found the beta yet. You also might chat about your respective SYLLADICES and FETCH MODI, if the topic happens to come up.
You wonder if he is anywhere near as smooth with his sylladex as you are. Suddenly a RAMBUNCTIOUS CROW flies in the open window and snatches the beta, possibly to make a nest with, or maybe just for the sake of being a brainless feathery asshole. You yell at the bird. You accidentally launch your NINJA SWORD. Everything goes flying out the window, dead bird and all. No one can ever know about this. Yeah, you can kiss all that stuff goodbye. You feel sorry for the bird, but at least you never planned on ever using that beta, ever.
Anyway, now that that bit of ugliness is behind you, you guess you can look forward to several more hours of messing around in your room WHOA WAIT WHAT??? You prepare to descend the stairs to your living room. Your mother had him installed through a hole in the roof with a heavy-duty crane.
Just look at that mystical gaze. To peer into those aloof, glassen eyes is to arrest the curiosity of any mortal. To behold the wisdom concealed in the furrows of that venerable face is to know the ceaseless joys of bewonderment itself. Any man so fortunate as to catch askance his merry twinkle or twitch of whisker shall surely have all his dreams fulfilled. You find this grisly abomination utterly detestable.
There is nothing to psychoanalyze. Your mother clearly has no real affinity for these damnable things. She only collects them to spite you. If anything, she finds them even more repellent than you do. There is the sound of rushing water beneath the floor. You might as well see if you can slip through the kitchen and out the back unnoticed. You even customized it with a drink holder to support one of her ubiquitous ALCOHOLIC BEVERAGES. She "liked" the gift so much, she had it bronzed and put on this pedestal.
She even left it plugged in so it can still be turned on now and then. But never to do any cleaning. It never leaves this display. Sometimes at night when you are in your room, you can hear it wailing from downstairs. She MUST know you can hear it.
Not that you would want to move it anyway. The PRETTY PRINCESS DOLL has been sitting there for months, ever since your mother got this abomination for your birthday as a totally PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE gesture. You decided to make it much less abominable by knitting Her Majesty a new head and new arms.
Now it brings a mischievous smile to your face whenever you walk by. She would never be the one to blink first. The LIQUOR BOTTLES are out in full force. MOM is surely nearby.
That would be your REFRIGERATOR, whose surfaces have customarily served as the battlefield for a chilly siege of PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE one-upmanship. This was a drawing you did of your cat JASPERS when you were younger, along with a poem about him.
Using the colorful MAGNET LETTERS, you recently left a succinct message, which may or may not have been directed toward anyone in particular. Appreciative of the thoughtful gesture, you left her a sincere THANK YOU NOTE, which you adult friends finders legally notarized, and then marked with a drop of blood.
But part of it was touching the floor, so your mother was kind enough to lift the lower portion of the document with a VELVET PILLOW. Especially when you are absolutely positive no one is watching.
You also make a vow to return later and neatly sew the plastic shut. You now wonder how to address the pillow situation. It seems the woman has you at a clear disadvantage.
Perhaps slipping a fresh doily under the pillow will do the trick? Or maybe spilling a bit of WORCESTERSHIRE SAUCE on it, and then having how to pick up girls at the book store dry-cleaned and returned along with a laboriously ingratiating apology note?
Oh yes, that would burn. This is delicate business.