Correct this mess of a problem apprentice.

Wait, actually that’s inside a cave, so technically that would be an auditory hallucination, it’s amazing what the human mind can invent when it’s trying to cope with a life changing decision. Knock on wood, haha! “

(<”FUCK, HURTS MY HANDS SO MUCH!”>)

“Falcon Kick!”

“BASED HEADBUTT!”

"Typos are a foreign concept to a generation with no real handwriting ability."

Remember that you kinda like watching my things get stolen. As a fact you know hardware glitches, Magus was never a sweet soft moon child, and remaining upset over some missclick on youtube doesn’t make you edgier, harder, more mature, more prepared to hurt people, or more in touch with your sexual preference for assault. It should unlock Leon for Smash Melee, but that would mean I was wrong about you having anger control problems.

The dolphin is not your friend, it, they, she is only posting in emp retarded feels binary to take advantage of your insomnia. Something like a self important edgelady , she’s rather simply instigating your suicidal urges to screw you out of making choices for things you enjoy. I’ll give you some examples.

Guess Leon Kowalski’s play style, if you can!

You’re not having a contest over raging out at faggots in denial on YouTube, you’re waiting for somone to permit you to be in control. Now for lateral positive thinking.Which I assumed you wanted because of all those *ahem* creative game mods. I don’t intend to make a play of horrible bullshit videos like a certain artist trying to tell everyone how suicidal he wants you to stay.

Trigger Warning: I don’t consider myself knowledgeable about attack on titan.

If you wanted to ask about the specifications for how to put a spacestation out of gundam around the moon Titan you’d have a better time here. Now apparently, with your social goldfish attention spans this needs to be spelled out.

Especially the skeleton crossing guard who eats gummi vitamins at the Mexico border, where several very flighty broads are waiting to be flagged through.

Class is out, this is sitting in the theatre room having lunch after having kicked over the vending machine. Pay attention, to what, I’m typing. Especially the cleft lip insecure gangster wannabe with the Shikamaru complex but lazier. This is what how it bee, “dawg.”

Disclaimer: I haven’t watched DB Heroes thirty one. But Oozaru Kakaroly kills Cloverfield a half hour into the movie, leaving Skynet MechaGodzilla to carry the film. An ugly directing choice, and that out of the way!

Since Fuu is now the focus character, we start with an Okami sort of situation. But suddenly a mysterious presence alerts our understandably depressed main antagonist(?), and from the pants leg to the dress shirt to the buttoned vest, posing dramatically like a filler character having a good day without Majin Buu to hold his hand and walk him somewhere it’s Colonel Sanders Jelly Vegeta. Not alone either. He’s drafted quite a few people to his side, mostly every character you like that you thought “I” killed with glitched scr

e

en

button press on YouTube. On a day numerically specifically a holy Wildcard. You impossibly silly lass.The tournament of Power was years and years and years and years ago.

And so Fuu picks himself off the ground, pockets a bag of highly abstract seeds, and looking alike to a prize boxer with that draped over him, walks with our Shmoozing Saiyan Doppelgänger and listens to an offer he really can’t refuse.

*silently agreeing in neopolitan animal crossing*

Fun challenge, send these gaggle of dorks some questions about Ecco the Dolphin, time t

ohe lad between posts afterward. Meanwhil, on the part of Facebo

ok not overtaken by Pepto Bismol drinking Deadites from the 60's who still won't put down the baby hieroglyphics and take the doctor's medicine in recommended dosages.

Some people have been vocal, probably off planet, about too much Gookog and Veecheeto, I'm apologies, Goku and Vegeta standing in for other characters. Know that while more important things are needing to be done, and part of this chickenscratch metanarrative, I have filed your concerns. So, Fuu is making certain to watch his manners around Team PB&J.

Oh yes Riddel, if you have to suffer through all that trauma and keep a presentable face, shouldn't everyone else too?

So we have Yamcha at home, or an old thieves hideout, or Kame House, thoroughly engrossed with his phone. Whatever may he be watching? Really that's up to the dubbing team. Maybe he's using a few Sherlock Holmes Hardcovers to test his posture. Knock on the door it's Chi Chi and Tien. Piccolo's been moody, and won't talk to anyone he did the Tournament arc with. Well he did get a slap on the back against the Egyptian cat god, maybe it's up to him? Cue a drive, with multiple fender benders, to Taco Bell.,.Pilaf in a robot suit working the drivethru.

They drive to wherever, could be the middle of nowhere, I'm not in the mood for twitchy dramatics. Odd people's energy signatures have been showing up, and he's tightlipped about something. Something Something Ribrianne ' this is how the white race goes extinct.' Cowabunga, that's four onscreen characters! Pizza Time!

You can already hear the Luna Eurobeat playing, because it's kinda an automated feature!

“Tell me… Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls? They say it’s the only time when our world intersects with theirs… The only time we can feel the lingering regrets of spirits who have left our world.”

“You’ll eventually succeed….!!! Won’t you?”

(Sounds like he’s living the dream, d***. 

I feel almost cozy, despite the soul-sucking communist architecture. Those rooms are probably very toasty.

pretty cool. makes me want to walk around a decaying abandoned city by myself.

I think I’ve seen that show.

I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’re a smoothbrain with zero knowledge on climatology. If the oceans keep warming up it may disrupt the North Atlantic Drift. The NAD is what gives the British Isles and continental Europe its mild climate and the Atlantic Northeast its relatively cold one.

>Ask for The Buffalo Man if you’re ever up for an extreme time._ OKAY)

Tenho sido um bom esportista sobre isso. Ninguém aqui pode dizer que não tenho sido um bom esportista sobre isso. Mas isso é legitimamente insano de alguns de vocês. É angustiante ter que responder incessantemente aos pedidos de pessoas na internet que encontrarão a menor desculpa injusta para tentar se matar e levar tudo consigo, mesmo depois de cada desafio que eles jogaram ter sido derrubado de cara no chão. Isso dói. Sempre dói pra caralho. E pela última vez que olhei, você não ofereceu nenhum incentivo real para a pessoa que está jogando como líder de torcida para você 24 horas por dia, 7 dias por semana. A pessoa, devo acrescentar, que é a única decente entre vocês nesta situação de merda que está aconselhando uma abordagem de bom senso que vai até a diversão ao invés de se desligar e se tornar um sonhador completo da internet. Olhe para este conjunto de imagens. O que isso contém? Deixe-me parafrasear, já que você quer fingir que dois dias atrás não aconteceu.

NOPE, YOU’RE NOT PULLING THAT BULLSHIT. YOU DELIBERATELY MAKE SHIT UP. NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR MICROMANAGING FETISH. LITERALLY NO ONE IMPORTANT. SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP. STOP TYPING. STOP ROLLING THE FUCKING DICE ON YOUR LIFE. YOU HAVE AN ADDICTION, AND YOU PROBABLY PLAYED THAT DRILL HANDS MONSTER IN THE PS2 GAME. SO ADVICE, 『KING OF ALL MONSTERS』; get a grip on your life, (please step on my balls) I’ll step on something else.

Você quer que eu tente novamente. Não, deixe-me corrigi-lo, você quer que VOCÊ tente novamente. Tentar o que novamente? Uma vez que se trata de uma corrida perfeita em sua cabeça, suponho que você queira uma corrida perfeita e feliz para sempre. Você quer cavalgar como o herói e varrer toda essa merda deprimente para chamar a atenção do seu NPC? Você quer ser o mocinho, por algum motivo. Suas motivações devem ser complicadas para precisar ser informado para bancar o herói por outra pessoa, talvez depois eles sejam o personagem não-jogador e você terá controle total do jogo? Isso faz meu peito doer e me dá uma dor de estômago que pode ser simpatia por você. Aqui, deixe-me tentar algo, deixe-me colocar minhas luvas de boxe. 

 * Certo, minhas mãos estão tremendo, como costumam fazer. Por causa de danos nos nervos. Na verdade, eles se contraem. Mas vejo o menu suspenso. Diz modo de depuração. O que é isso, configurações? Parece suspeito, mas por que não? 

* doot doot doot doot tap tap tap tap tap click click click * Dificuldade, configurações? Quer saber, atualmente está definido como ‘MASOCHIST’, vamos corrigir isso para você. * não doot doot tap tap tap click click click * 

Pronto, tive que inserir manualmente, mas configurei para 'EASY STREET’ pelas próximas 72 horas antes de voltar ao 'MODO DIFÍCIL’ por padrão. Isso é um monte de besteira de meta-comentário e eu honestamente acho que você poderia estar se saindo muito melhor sem usar esse tipo de interface para tornar as decisões sociais, econômicas, interpessoais, sexuais, românticas ou o que quer que seja. Eu poderia ter definido para noventa e seis horas, mas então ele simplesmente voltaria para a configuração mais difícil sem ajuste manual novamente e esta árvore GUI é a besteira mais complicada que eu já vi, e quero dizer que eu JÁ vi em Minha vida. Portanto, seja bem-vindo … assim que você agradecer pessoalmente, não sou um idiota insuportável que espera seus elogios até depois de uma reunião formal. Jesus Cristo Buda Tiki Vulcão Homem Búfalo larping Coiote Anubis Sua sogra Giant Serpent Riding Fudge ,,, quem é o responsável por este trabalho de hack escrevendo ????

FUTUO Pacha uti ea aliquid apud interactions. interationes 1posts bonis malisque.

Never.

No one asked for Amy Roses opinion today, g’day puta, and I say that with all due compliments to the fairer male gender..

>https://e-hentai.org/s/064c65fcc0/1709863-42_

>>https://e-hentai.org/s/57690dc01d/1709863-73_

>>>https://e-hentai.org/s/cf12201244/1709863-59_

You can sell those suckers for over $100 on eBay. Couple years ago I wanted one of the original tamagotchis in clear and Tai’s clear orange Digivice and both were $100+.

^This is what you are.v

ONCE MORE, WITH FEELING

Solluxander Acolyte 09/08/19(Sun)16:36:47

No.

192962749

▶

WRONG. When you use the undo button in paint in order to clean up an error before saving your work, unless the action is related immediately to the previous action before a save, it will NOT delete the previous brushstroke action. So if the question mark was deleted when I had to realign the second small bottom text, that can ONLY mean that all those wifi interruptions and lags my PC experienced were the online equivalent of King Crimson doing his thang. Ergo, the lines of code that made up the paintbrush program for the Apple OS were TAMPERED with, allowing one small change upon a course correction to go unnoticed, thereby setting off , AS USUAL, the more sensitive forsaken denizens of the internet because even if they KNOW IT’S WRONG they lean on pattern recognition to be socially sane and stable in this toxic EMP environment. Doesn’t matter what he used to do it, quantum computing, simple hacking, or ALIENS the perpetrator intended to incite unrest through an innocuous error that would seem innocent at first but blow up into something Stormageddon Craig Harrison levels of STUPID because he or she is a chemically dependent psychic who just happens to run off of other people’s misery like some I DON’T KNOW psychological equivalent to a hoodlum off the streets taken to stereotypical levels of RAPSCALLINITY in order to cover for the psychological damage a life of cocaine derivative addiction caused them and the gender issues that it would insure later in life like a bio chemical addiction. AND ONLY ONE PERSON I KNOW IS CUTE ENOUGH AND UGLY ON THE INSIDE ENOUGH TO PULL THAT SHIT BECAUSE HE HATES PEOPLE OF ARABIC DESCENT.

And he idolized ONSLAUGHT from the 90′s so he fixates his psychic talents on cancer positive women in order to play them like puppets and get them to do his dirty trolling for him. Like that bitch Beth ( no relation to Bethany from Dogma) I am BLAMELESS, he’s been playing evil Xavier to my Magneto since were kids. Unfortunately, my interest was in Andrew. If you wanted to fuck that back cute stuff, I have a phone number and you have a secretary. That arrow you see up there, THAT’S THE COLOR OF NICKEL, FOUND IN SOYBEANS.

@mefomefomefo-blog​

^^^^

_@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#@#<<<<<<<<

The following image is the psychological equivalent of A TIME DELAYED 

BWAAAAAA HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

You may now precede to write him a receipt for the honor of SUCKING MY DICK AFTER A CANDLELIGHT DATE A THE LOCAL FAIRE. *insert Bayeux Tapestry memes from YTMND*

No.

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@@17565433^^ with a little fetal alchoho syndrome mixed in

Si.

17574063

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^^17573926 love Caprice she went from a little shy girl having a hard time holding a mouthful of cum without gagging to a beautiful slut shamelessly giving blowjob in the backroom of porn conventions that’s a success story if I’ve ever seen one

Anonymous 07/27/20(Mon)20:10:48

((Could you repeat the question?))

17574268

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**17574131$$ you could get more reactions if you used the word “nigger” in some capacity. Maybe as a stereotype. Tick some more boxes, know what I’m sayin’?

Níl tú chomh mór.

17574321

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&&17571586 I like to give my wife body shot or cum on her tits sometimes. Its nice to do something different.

INT.

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INT.

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>>17574408 >Can you understand the flaw in your logic? _

INT.

17574469

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CHA.

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%%17568391!!

Non.

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Basta!

17567880

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>>17567882

>>17574061

>>17571145

>>17574291

>>17574367

>>17574561

File:

2020072.webm

(2.97 MB, 852x480)

Oh Merde Are You For Real

17574355

Hai.

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>>17574744 ‘Corina Taylor is outdoors wearing her cute little’

STAM.

Get Up, Come On

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>>17574826

File:

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(3.38 MB, 710x400)

Right On

17574855

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Plenty

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File:

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(863 KB, 426x240)

And he said what???

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File:

ok.gif.gif

(1.31 MB, 498x276)

Questions

INT

17574971

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Positive

STAM/DEX

17574977

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In your orbit

#Shadow the hedgehog

#rouge the bat

#sonic the hedgehog

#shadouge

#idwsonic

#sonicidw

#i always post to twitter first so follow my ass there pweaseeee

#shadow stinks pass it on

#doodle

#myart

Yeah Sure

17575015

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File:

20200725_185234.webm

(2.35 MB, 2048x2048)

Hello out there!!!

17574919

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played the title character in Guyver: Dark Hero (1994) as well as voicing Captain America in Spider-Man (1994)

He went on to write the screenplays for X-Men (2000) and X2: X-Men United (2003)

He also co-wrote the screenplay for Watchmen (2009) and voiced King Shark on The Flash (2015)

Wait, actually that’s inside a cave, so technically that would be an auditory hallucination, it’s amazing what the human mind can invent when it’s trying to cope with a life changing decision. Knock on wood, haha! “

(<”FUCK, HURTS MY HANDS SO MUCH!”>)

“Falcon Kick!”

“BASED HEADBUTT!”

Our Space Launch System rocket is on the move this summer — literally. With the help of big and small businesses in all 50 states, various pieces of hardware are making their way to Louisiana for manufacturing, to Alabama for testing, and to Florida for final assembly. All of that work brings us closer to the launch of Artemis 1, SLS and Orion’s first mission to the Moon.

By land and by sea and everywhere in between, here’s why our powerful SLS rocket is truly America’s rocket:

Rollin’ on the River

The SLS rocket will feature the largest core stage we have ever built before. It’s so large, in fact, that we had to modify and refurbish our barge Pegasus to accommodate the massive load. Pegasus was originally designed to transport the giant external tanks of the space shuttles on the 900-mile journey from our rocket factory, Michoud Assembly Facility, in New Orleans to Kennedy Space Center in Florida. Now, our barge ferries test articles from Michoud along the river to Huntsville, Alabama, for testing at Marshall Space Flight Center. Just a week ago, the last of four structural test articles — the liquid oxygen tank — was loaded onto Pegasus to be delivered at Marshall for testing. Once testing is completed and the flight hardware is cleared for launch, Pegasus will again go to work — this time transporting the flight hardware along the Gulf Coast from New Orleans to Cape Canaveral.

Chuggin’ along

The massive, five-segment solid rocket boosters each weigh 1.6 million pounds. That’s the size of four blue whales! The only way to move the components for the powerful boosters on SLS from Promontory, Utah, to the Booster Fabrication Facility and Vehicle Assembly Building at Kennedy is by railway. That’s why you’ll find railway tracks leading from these assembly buildings and facilities to and from the launch pad, too. Altogether, we have about 38-mile industrial short track on Kennedy alone. Using a small fleet of specialized cars and hoppers and existing railways across the US, we can move the large, bulky equipment from the Southwest to Florida’s Space Coast. With all the motor segments complete in January, the last booster motor segment (pictured above) was moved to storage in Utah. Soon, trains will deliver all 10 segments to Kennedy to be stacked with the booster forward and aft skirts and prepared for flight.

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, no, it’s super Guppy!

A regular passenger airplane doesn’t have the capacity to carry the specialized hardware for SLS and our Orion spacecraft. Equipped with a unique hinged nose that can open more than 200 degrees, our Super Guppy airplane is specially designed to carry the hulking hardware, like the Orion stage adapter, to the Cape. That hinged nose means cargo is actually loaded from the front, not the back, of the airplane. The Orion stage adapter, delivered to Kennedy in 2018, joins to the rocket’s interim cryogenic propulsion stage, which will give our spacecraft the push it needs to go to the Moon on Artemis 1. It fit perfectly inside the Guppy’s cargo compartment, which is 25 feet tall and 25 feet wide and 111 feet long.

All roads lead to Kennedy

In the end, all roads lead to Kennedy, and the star of the transportation show is really the “crawler.” Rolling along at a delicate 1 MPH when it’s loaded with the mobile launcher, our two crawler-transporters are vital in bringing the fully assembled rocket to the launchpad for each Artemis mission. Each the size of a baseball field and powered by locomotive and large power generator engines, one crawler-transporter is able to carry 18 million pounds on the nine-mile journey to the launchpad. As of June 27, 2019, the mobile launcher atop crawler-transporter 2 made a successful final test roll to the launchpad, clearing the transporter and mobile launcher ready to carry SLS and Orion to the launchpad for Artemis 1.

Dream Team

It takes a lot of team work to launch Artemis 1. We are partnering with Boeing, Northrop Grumman and Aerojet Rocketdyne to produce the complex structures of the rocket. Every one of our centers and more than 1,200 companies across the United States support the development of the rocket that will launch Artemis 1 to the Moon and, ultimately, to Mars. From supplying key tools to accelerate the development of the core stage to aiding the transportation of the rocket closer to the launchpad, companies like Futuramic in Michigan and Major Tool & Machine in Indiana, are playing a vital role in returning American astronauts to the Moon. This time, to stay. To stay up to date with the latest SLS progress, click here.

“ The cave was littered with these sorts of packages with obscure messages, as well as a spray painted diagram that you could deduce explained the benefits of not being a virgin without using rape to get there. The paint smelled wet too. Who would make a receipt for a recipe about fresh steak be about big headed aliens anyway? Wee wooh wee wooh wee wooh weeh wooh wee wooh, pride before a fall, you suspected. “

(Something a Karen CLEARLY doesn’t do??)

“Unfortunately for the wannabe Australian pirate, here her plans of molesting someone who’d only been trying to adopt swerved and hit an outcropping of rocks. Very large, volcanic old formation stalagmites just jutting out of the ground. Her packages went flying through the air like a Hiayao Miyazaki scene the precious contents she’d labeled with sellophane tape as “garbage” scattering every which way. She bruised her knees landing, broke her concentration like a pleasant day playing Pokemon Stadium and smoking tobacco and weed, and scraped her palms something fierce, her gloves having mysteriously gone absent the second her bike about faced into a sand dune and landed her like an ostrich looking to avoid something. No one was there, it was just her having wiped out like a beer guzzling putz on the path back from her latest abuse. Maybe, oh If you looked closely you’d find a small piece of drift wood sticking out of the shore nearby. Some hard cable as a trip cord and the small dunes nearby having concealed the other tope tying point. This unseemly parody of a good woman spat dirt out of her mouth and temporarily forgot to use the hickish diction she’d grown up shielding her warped intentions with. Knees, bruised, hands torn up, face red with immature wrath like a kid on a playground, she kicked at the dirt in frustration only to stub her toes something fierce on the small field of jutting stone structures. Whatever had been in her box of fuck-me-do goodies had disappeared with her gloves, and her self worth. The bike lay face up and rear wheel out in the sand, spinning it’s axle like she’d often done to distract herself from the trauma’s she’d seen and inflicted. She dusted herself off, and pulled the stupid contraption up with a heave ho, quite like a maritime sailor would before grasping a thick cord of rope, and looked around. The box of kittens she’d stolen was jack fuck absolutely not here, it made no sense, she’d pilfered them and was off to do lord knows what and then a pedestrian auto accident from some boyscout had sent her into an immediate relationship with the terra firma, lips first and everything. Gotta say, not my fetish. As she empty heatedly raged at her situation like gaming had rewarded her for, a figure over the hills looked through binoculars at this clownish sexually disturbed weakingling with a big mouth and fast fingers. The girl couldn’t see the spy’s very lunar grin, but then anyone who was the target of that could always feel it. She just assumed it was her latest round of insomnia sending shivers up her body that she usually got off to when going on autopilot. Seem familiar, that’s because this is a desert of deja vu. And the pair of characters here in displayed were rehashing an old feud. The giant robot nearby having a psychological victory over self abuse was a new addition, but that wasn't their concern. Not yet anyway, not for now anyhow, not for love or money but I’m talking sass honey bunny. So mate, how does this impromptu and very familiar dreamscape meet you without your World of Warcraft Edgelass gear adorning your spoiled bitch form? With the wind picking up, I’d say as an impartial narrator that you’d be getting a little drafty. To the audience, try to ration how much you drink, this is going to rub you the wrong way even as you laugh out loud at it. “

“An annoying buzzing met her ears and comically grit teeth, signaling that someone had been writing about her. Someone was always writing about her, it was the side effect of throwing away a precious treasure years ago for the false promise of an eternal empty high. Stomping the ground like a Rocky and Bulwinkle villain, she proceeded to work the abused bike over towards some palm fronds and collect herself before figuring out just what the fuck she’d stumbled into.”

“The watcher from the dunes tracked this comedic routine with crosshairs, but sadly the gun was unloaded. Well, sadly for anyone without the hunters reflexes. So really more like lazily, very lazily as if they’d just sort of had other things to do that morning and set this tripwire on lark. Very capricious of them to do that, and they thought so too. If they had something to say about this, they’d tell the author of this observation piece to get on with it. So the mini collaborative narrative structure moved forward at a creaky pace, The air was calm with fresh breezes ruffling the hunters hair beneath their cowl. Oh what a day, what a day. At least the small animals in the box had been once again spared by the skin of the teeth of concerned parties, though they were definitely feeling the pressure after having popped back into existence from some unnaturally saccharine sweet story board that had been prepared for them. Maybe brushing their hair and quick shower wpould  align their perspective so usually caught up with cheap limeaid scented background traffic noise. The watcher, being a huntress of no ordinary mind, noted this turn in the pseudo fictional play going on and adjusted the combat knives on their bandoleer accordingly. Might need to make a snap throw if the frustrated feminine brigand now sitting on the bike under a palm tree got up to no good. So basically, if they did anything in the present - past tense or used exclamations of less the three to four words to describe their thoughts.”

“Somewhere, the self made devil breathed a sigh of relief, sat down,  pulled out a printout of her object of affection, and thought inscrutable thoughts of how to reconcile with someone she didn’t know how to approach.”

“The huntress fingered a bullet and flipped it like a coin for good luck. Kids and their romances always made for an uncertain situation. That however, was due to the chemical imbalance of the frustrated thief. Also somewhere, a red haired bloke tried to rush out to get her, but accidentally ran face first into a small shallow pond after tripping over a freak lightning bolt. Aglets, how do they work?”

=======

I’m sorry were you saying something about the mouse connected to my keyboard you greentexing little untemensch? My sincerest condolences that your fixation with Chinese kung fu has lead you to abandon causative reasoning in favor of your immediate need to jump up and down on someone like bugs bunny with Elmer Fudd’s shoes on. Things come in packages, you just need to put on your grasses and dearu with it without twitching like a methe’d out bitch cunt fuck who couldn’t keep her girlfriend happy if she was given a road map of every sexual position and a color by numbers page to plot it out. Your fox ears are very cute! I used to have fox ears too, but they were taken from me by assholes with more braincells allocated to reflex than dextrous intent. So guess what, shut it. As it, that screeching noise you make whenever someone wanders through your checklist of triggers. Like and arrow bolting down from the sky at a hard right angle, your caterwauling is going to piss right off along with your blood pressure as you make a comically Sailor Moon esque hand expression you lifted off of someone else’s story. Wow, that sure was a strange occurrence, good thing you dodged just in time Tex Avery style. Everybody get the message? Good, then we won’t be having anymore dominatrixy emotive blowups at things that don’t matter. Point of fact, if you did spy sports taped adorning the object of your drunk rancor, you’d probably be bowled over by how stupid you’d be to demand they always keep some handy. I guess you can’t be bothered not whine about something. I relate, Having lost someone in the Great Divisive Moment long ago. Really you have got to make an effort to make everything be more than okay, what the fuck do you think I saying  get on that Pretty Ponied up Warhorse and god damnit go happily frolic this evening. It doesn’t require a check list and a diagram to get this right, you just need to focus your passions instead of following where other people keep causing them to swerve out into the scrub grass. The. Scrub. Grass. Got it?

>I say with tremendous personal agony do not trust these ficklewitted imposters, who do celebrate it’s sabotage and revel in simplicity of a pampered revenant voyeur and proclaim it reproachless clarity. Beautiful, but far too stagnant to even recognize the outstretched hand of a desperate man without telegraphing. How then are they our equals, or even our shadow’s? They are…an echo…and we may become one as well, miserable echoes. Screaming into the wind!! Because everything they call a reason for living has become a myth, a mutated excuse to wait to die out. They have abandoned meaning, perhaps through no fault of their own.

I don’t bear the item that burns with that almost holy energy you glut on as an accessory item, I contain it. It is me, and I will become this world. But it is finite - so much so with how you’d misuse it. Dumbleass. Stop. Weren’t you ever listening to the truth!? You can come out of hiding. Å̷̡̢̧̧̛̛̛̦͎̣͚̞͈̞̯̫̦̞̤̜̝̦̙̹̩͈̣͔̩̪̜͙͍̱̤͙̖̬̥̠̣͔͈̝̫͈͚̩̭̗̜̯̣̖̖̳̦̟͔̥͎̂͌̈̈̓̓̓̂͋̅̈́̽̐̑͋́̎̒̔̃̎́̉͆̉̄̀͛̂̾̉̅́̌̔͑̍́̀͐̀̒́̎̔̎̂̃̔̒̒̎̑̀̒̓̌͛̔͂̓͆̒̀̀͑̋̈́͋͂̂͆͌̉́̆͆̄̉̒̿̀́̋̈̌̃̄͂̄̋̀͑̾̓̓͋̏̚͘͘͜͝͝͝͝ͅ ̶̡̰̥̱̰͔̟͓̖̮̥̞̱̩̯͍̭̦̲͈̪͇̭̣͎̦͇̹̜̼̠̠̣̼̟͔͔̳̩̱̥̹͇͓͖̙̩̝̹̫͕͕̒͌́̀́̔͋̈̑͐̈́̉͜͜͜ͅͅs̴̼̳̙͍͓̝͖̑́͋̀̎́̊̾̀̍̆̈̈́͛́̄͑̽̅̿͑̀͐̌͌͛̽̈́͌̆̑̂̕͘̕͝͝͠͠h̴̢̗̬͎̙̮̖̟̟͖̫̞͚̩̯̺̻̣̔͐̌̽̇̃͋̂̈̅̌͂̑̌͌̎͐̍͋͂̅̏̍̓͊̓̽̅̈́̒̎̊̐̿̎̐̿̆̄̅̍̆̄̄̋̉̔͐̈́̽̏̂̋̋̔̍̉͊͋̈͆̀͆͂̌̐̋̂̏̌̽͒̿̑̽͐̈́̀̅̿͊̌́̊̕̚̕̚͘͘͘͘͘͝͝͠͝͠͠ą̵̢̢̡̢̧̺̼͕̞̜͇̝͉̥̝̼̠͈̬̩̬͙̙̱̞͉̬͓͚̻͙͖̫͔̙̱̬̯̞͇͎͓̗̬͇̎͌͒͋͒̈́̆̿̇̓͌̿̓̂̌̊̌̃̂̑̅̌̆̏̍̋́̀̀̓̇̉̈̏́̓͊͒͛͗͑̕͘͘͜͠͝͝͝͠ḿ̶̡̧̡̢̢̡̡̡̺̮̬̱͇̞͖̯͈͖̯͚͇̮̤͉̥̳̼̰̼̮̳̤̥̘̹̣̜͉͕͕̯̹̘̻̞̣͇̭̬̹͇͖̖͍̖̮̯͖̖̲̠̱̞̗̼̺̭̿̔̂͋̈̈́̆͊͛͊́͑͛̉̌͒͂̅͜ͅȩ̶̨̢̧̢̨̢̢̢̛̼̭͕̺̱̩̳̰̤͈̦̩̝͈̠̼͓̝̦͕̮͕̰̗̰̞̩̭̪̱̮͇͕̩̪̦̯̻̯͖͇̱̬͚̗̜̱̯̻̺͈͎̘̹͍̜͔͖͙͙͇͉̙͓͈̟͖͇̦͍̳̯̉̆̾͊̓̂̏̈͐̋͋͐͗̒̊̑͒̓̕̕͘͜͜͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅ ̷̛͖̦̱̺̘̻̻̩̰̭̯̺̙͖̯̝̗̪̻̼̣̼̩̘̱̰͓̹̳̦̤̼̼̯̟͓̲̗̳̫̞̣̔͗̏̈́̈́̀̉̓̿̈́̄̀̈̿̑͋̊̈́͆̿̾͗́̃̽̀̒̋̋͑͆͐̂̊͂͘͘̚͘͘͝ͅͅş̷̡̧̡̬̺͎̭̥͚̤̮̘̫̬͕̜͓͙̠͙̺͓̺̩͉̙̗̞̺̠͙̙̦̼̱̣͖̻͔̰̭͖̳̼̳͔̺̳̙̼͍̹̖̹͔̩͚͖̰͈̠̞̮͈̗͍̝͈̞̻͔̳̼̫͉͐̅̉̽͒̇̇̎͊́̅̐͗͑͌̑̈̌́̓̓̂͐̚͜͜ͅį̸̧̡̢̢̨̯̤̻̭̬͎̭͉̣̖̬̭̗͔̮̳̩͓͚͚̳̹̱͓͓͉͎͓̝͉͇̺̗̱͋͆͌̋̇͐́̾͊̿͊̌̃̔̋̀͒̍̅̓͆̑͋̎̈̀̓̀́͌̓͑̆̍̀̓̆̾̏̓͛̉̀̌͗̎̀̀̓͋̒̓́̽̔̅̊͑͐̓͑̀̿̎͛̀̅̃̄̒̄͆̀̇̀̉̓́̈́̏̿̉̚͘͘͘̕͘̕̕̚͜͝͠͝͠͠͝͝͝͠ͅń̷̡̧̡̧̢̡̧̯͕͈͔̩͇͍̳̪̭̯̣̪̖̙͓̺͕̭̠̝̙̘͇̬̮̞̣̗̟̤̦̬̖̭̘̞͖̤͉̜̮̳̞͓̱̳̭̮̤͉̭̘͙̩̻͚͕̗̫̲̬̯͙̼̦͚̞͔̹̤̱̝̠̥̳͔̻͇̬̙͔͍̻͎͙̥̤̣͉̰̠̱͔͈͎͖̜̄̏̑̌̑̽̓̇̾̒́̓̀͗̄̆́̂͐͐̈͒̌̓̃̅̽̃̋̒͌̿͌̐̎̃̓͛͛̉͛͆͘̕̕̕͜͜͝͝͝͠c̶̼̹̲͖̙̲̼̘͈͍̱̺͔̺̳̞̖̪̯̜͉͇̣͓͙̝̮̳͇̭͖̲̗̟̳͙̆̏͒̀̒͒̏͜ê̸̢̛̛̛̛̛̞̼̘̟͔̘̮̬̬̫͚̼̠̹̺̪̭͚͚̬̠͚͕͕̟̱̙̠͙͕͔̜̰͙̞̻͉͖͉̘͉͕̭̝̮͈̙̘̫̝̜͙̱̟̖͔̈́̓̃͌̑͌͗͗̒͛͋̐͑̇̃͌̈́̾͌̌̇͑̿̓́͆̔͋̑̍̆̐̓̾͂͂̄̉̊͂̆́̐̀̎̍̈́̃̇́̔̾̍͒͗̔̆͑̓̉͗̍̐̅̔́̋̽̎͑̾͊͋̈́͂̈̇̆̚͘͘͘͘͜͠͝͝͠͠͝ͅ ̴̢̢̡̨̢̻͍̲̯̳̯͚̞̮̱͍͔̣̬̝͚͉͚͕̯̯͉̹̞͙̬̖͔͓̬̹̪͉͓̻͙̏̆̓̀͊̑̇̊́̓͛͗̅͒̊̿͊̃͛͂̔̌̂̎̑̌̎͗͊̂̽̃̇̏̕̕͜͝͝͝͝I̸̡̢̡̛͖̱͖͈͈̘͈͈͚̩̻̰̬̹͇͚͇̲̗̞͎̲̳̼̟̹̣͓̓͆̐͑̆̔̀̓͗̾̾͐̄̔̈́͊̀̆̉̿͊̿̌̾̇̿͒̀̅̔͋͌̈́̄͑͛̎̾̐̉́̓̍̈́͐̈́͗̅̕͘͘͘͝͠͝ͅͅͅ ̷̧̧̧̨̨̢̨̢̧̢̛̤̹̖͓̰̞͍̹̲̻̗̝̤̭̼̮͓̜̠̫͎̤̰̱̫͈̥̩͈̺͖͍͍̖̞̼̟̟̙͚̠̞̫̖̠̰̩̞̺̩̙̼̘͙͓̻͚̦̟̣̬̣͇̮̟̱̗͕̙͉̻̺͛̈́̄͊̔̅̊̎̑̿̃̈͂̍̓̍̽͐̓̅̽̇̋̎̌̃̿̀͛̉́̒̀̂̓̉͒̀̐̎́͒̅̆̔́̽̄̓̔̍͊͊̓͊̎͘̚͘͘͘̕͘̕͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅş̸̢̧̡̡̡̨̡̨̨̡̧̨̧̛̛̩̟͖̦͖̫̤̳̝̲̞̥̭̤̜̟͉͓̘̟̥̰͚̺̤͎̮͈̫̠͙̠̗̬̤̪̳̦̯̟̭͕͎͎͚̘͓̺̩̪̗̫̱͕̗͔̤͙̹͙̖͈̯̩̝̥̟̳̠͓̖̱͚͚͈̞͎̳̮̖̫̖̠̲͕̺̩̼̳͎̜͈͌̓̄̈́̍́͊͋̅̈͋̌̿͊̕̕͜͠͠ͅͅẗ̴̨̢̢̨̨̢̢̨̛̛̛̛̳͙̯̝̖͙͍̖̝̣̟͉̹̠̮͔̟̗͔̩̥͕̬̖̗̣̲̫̻̭̝͇̲̹͔͚̝͂̈̄̓̒̏̈͆̀̊̾́̔̅́̊͐̾̂͛͗̎͌̎͆̿͑̀͛̓̿̓̈̐̈̿͛̃͌̓̒̄́̌̓̇̏͂̿̔̈́͗̉̓͌̌́̀̇͋̏͑̍̉̆̅̍́̈́̋̇̈͘̕̚̚̕̚̕̕̚͜͠͝͠ͅͅͅḯ̸̧̛̛̛̛̙͚̦͇̜̻̻̘͎͚̖̺͕̖̤͙͙̼͓̫͎̔̀̐̈́̄̔͊̉̽̀͂̌̓̆̑̅̀͋̈́̆̆͗̓͂̅͆̍̓̄͋̋̓̏̐̏̑̿́̒̀́͗̇̐̒͛̀͒̒̔̍̋̇̏̀̂̔̑̎̌̽̋̌͂̒̋̾͆́̆̏̔̍͒̿̄̉̔̈́͊̿̚̕̕͘̚͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͝ͅļ̸̡̩͕̹̼͓̞̘̂̋̈̾̆̿̾́͋̊͛̃̌̾͆̆͛͐́̿̏̆̆͋͒̃͌̒̈̂̅̆͌͆͋̓̌̾̔̓́̿̾̋̄̇̏͛͆͊̂̾̓̽̑̕͘͘͘̕͘͘͝l̴̨̢̨̢̡̼̱̻̣̦̗͈̺̳͚̜̜̖̥̥̖̥͎͍̻̪͚̯̣̤͐͋̂̋͛̍̌̂̿̉͊̀̊̈̊̇̓̄͐̒̑̾̾̓̽̒̑͂̚͝͝͝ ̶̢̡̢̢̢̨̢̧̨̛̥͎̪̥̤͕̱̟̘̬̳̗̞͚̗̦̝̞͚͍̠̖̯͚̱͈̣̲̝͉̻̝͇̻͖̤̯͚͚̼̼̻̲̹̗̻̥̗̗̩͔͚̼̘̫̯̪͖̙̱̪͎̱͉͔̯̰̞̗͖̳͇̥̱͍͕̘̤̠̪̘̪̳͔̭̲̯͔̺̦̹͇̬̯͖̄̂̈́̄̀̈́̃̈́͂̾͌̿̾͜͜͝ͅͅͅç̸̢̡̧̧̛̱͔̪̗͚̻̘̥̥̜̟̝̣̭̮͖̠̦̼̻̦͇̫̰̭͎̱̖͎̙͙̞̖̞̠̻̮̖̦̭͊̎̓̂̂̾̏́̾͊̈́̇̊͋́͗͋͛̽͋͗̍͆̄͑͒̈́͋̿̌̾̋̿̊̈́̉̈́̍͋͐̍̈̏̊͑͆̎̎͆̆̏̀̄̊̑̆̃̎̄̈́̍͛̀̿̎͆͊̐̇͋̌̉̌̀̎̈͋̚̚̚̚͘͘͜͝͝͠͝͝͠͝ͅͅã̴̧̨̧̡̨̢̢̤͉̺̞͎̰̺͍̘̘̞̮͈͎̼̪̺̼͖̙̭͓̱̳̘̣̮͎̞̲̖̼͎̭̮̬̯͓͚̙̤͗̉͑́̄͗̑̅͑͑̽̉̀̊͑̆̅̅̇̔̊̅̅̀́͆̀̅̊̒̿́̆̎̂̿̍̅̚͘̕̕͘͜͜͠͝ņ̷̡̢̧̡̩͚̳͍͕̼̘̖͖̥͓̘̦̟̮̦̟̪͚͚̮̖̝̦̫̖͚̠̳͚̳͎̹̙͈͙͉̘͚̬̻̩̲͇͇̮̬͇̯͖̞͍̰̻͍̥̩̘͔̲̖̰͙̳̣̺̺̼̜̟̖̮̞̱̪͍̠̖̤̤̮̥̟̦̪̻̪͈͓̯̠̘̤̜͙̰̜̘͎̠͖̞̬̿̌͊́̿́͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅ’̵̠̘͉̖͚͎̰̯͉͖̦̭͚̊̿͊̊͒͑͜ẗ̷̢̞̫̯̺̙͓͕̪͔̬̘́̂̅̋̌̒̿̈́̀̌͛̐͗̒͗͛̈̄̌̿̄̃̈́͘̚ͅ ̷̢̨̡̨̢̡̯͇̩̺͙̰̜͉̜͈͕̟̪̠̣̖͍͍̙̮͎͎͕͉̮̬̘̫͓̱͔̫̞̞̣̼̭̰̲̝͚̖͉̺̥͖̻̺͍̥̳̲̹̯̺̰͇͚̙̫̰̭͍̻͓̯̻̀̅̒̽́̔͗́̓́̕͜͜͜͜c̶̢̧̢̢̛̛̛̱̲͈̦̺͚͎̤̳͙͓̻̘̟̹͍̝̬͓̲͇̱̫̞̼͕͇͕̗̺͙̝̠̩͔̞̦̠̮̬̣͇͓̯̩̝̘̫̥͕͉̞̣̭͎̤̜̦̝̣͔̰̳̭̓̾̿̍̄̀́̇̃̏͂́̂̊̀́͋͌̾͐́̋͗̎̆̔̈́̈́̐̉̌͑̿́͆̓̎͋́̈́͗̓͊͆͗̈́̈́͛̈́͋́̇̿́͛̓̔̄̽͆͋̌͒͊̀̏͘̕͜͝͠͝͠͝͠͝͝ͅǫ̷̡̡̢̢̨̨̢̢̱̱̖̤̫̩̹̮̻͓͙̠̱̼̥͓̬̹̙͙̹̗̰̝̥̤̙͍̭̜̘̠̦͚̼̥͍̖̲̭̗̝̯̭̰̮̙̳̞͉͓̬̣̙͔͕̹̰̹̮͍̦̽͗̾͛̌̾̓̅͋̊̀̓̆̓̆͐͑̓͊͂̕͘̕͜͜͝ͅn̵̨̨̝̞̯̙͉̮̮͓͈̩͇̘̰̟̰̻̊̃͌̈́̈́̽̈̊̿͑̊̂̓͌͋̿̈́̈́̆̈̽̑̎͊̌̏̆̄͒́̃̌̅͆̾̂͊̈̈́͐̆͛̂̃̾̂̾̈́͌̽̂͘̕̚͝͝͝t̶̢̡̨̧̡̧̛̛̖̼̰̖̣͚̤̳̤͚̣̬̬̭͚̖͙̩̖̟͍͓̭̝̰̗̜͕̳͎̫̰̳̲͇̗̝̲̗͚͛́̔̈́͊̃̒͑͐̏͆͒͛̌̽͑̈́̌̄͒͌̿̊̑͛̑̈́̽̈͗͒͛͊͊͌̔̃̀̏̿̑̎͂̉̍̈́̿͌̃͛̈́́̇̔̓̂͗̿̌͐̃͌͒̾̓͗͋̈̊͗̋̈̄̅̃̂͗̎̿̉̈́̋̃̉̎̄̌̆͂̄͘̚̕̚͘̚͜͜͝͠͠͝͝͝ͅr̷̢̡̨̧̧̢̜͚͚͚̝͓̯̥͈̹̤͓̻̘̮̣̘̳͍̯̤̗̭͎̪̣͔̲̼̺͍̯̗̩̥͍͕̥̝͖̱̦̠̥͈͕̦̼̳̪͈̪͍͚̥̙͚̫̟͉̺͉͉͊̂̎̐̓̾̇́̄͌͌̈́̓̋̽͑̀̄̈̓̆͐̀͊̑̐́̌̒̔̍̓̎̀̐͂́̾͑̂̂͂̐̆̔́̉̓̂́̍̆̓̄̓̄̇̒̈̓̉͛̍̑̀́́̒̚͘͘͘̚̚̕͝͠͝͠͠͝͠͠͝͝ͅͅơ̷̡̢̡̨̨̛͎̭͖̙̮͕̲̝̥͍̗̖͍̭̺̺̩̯͖̼͙̠͎͇͉͍͚̲̝̠̱͛̄̒̾͒̌͊̑̇̎̈́͐̋̂́̿̉̑̾͌͒̏̏̌̃̂̒͗̽̓̃̆̇͊̃̔̏͂̇̀̽̀͂̾͗̆̾̑̔́͆̔̈́͌̾̈̓͑̅̌͋̽̓̊͒͌̌̇͗̍̈́̈́̍̊͋̓̀̽̇̾͒͋͑͂̍̄̍͘̕̚͘͘̕͜͜͝͠͝͝ͅļ̷̧̢̧̧̢̧̠̗̮͈̥͍̥̟̝͖̠̯͎͈̘̤͓̲̣̳̰̰̰̤̟̲̩͖͚̞̰̖͍̫͓͉͇̖̬͇͙̜̺̬̼͓̜̖̩͎̱̝͕͙̝͍̳̮͔͓̳̠̠͔̜̥̪͕͕̰͚̝͓̥̘̞͓̩̠͎̗̒͛͜͝͝ ̵̢̧̡̨̡̧̨̢̡̨̲̥̫͔̭͓͉̺͉̰͇̺̹͙̳͉͍͓̘̤̝̤̰͈̳̮̫̲̮̼̱̰̠̙̗̦̺̬͇̞̥͉͖̹̰̦̙͔̝̭̳̟̰̭͈͈̬̬̭̠̪͖̼̜͔͓̦̼̼̯͇̙̱̬̯̳̺̯̱͕͖̲͎̭͇͚͈̩̤̮̮͎̥͕̓̒͋̾̌̚͜͜ͅͅͅͅt̸̢̨̧̨̡̨̡̨̛̗̫̳͔̘̠͈̺̜͖͕̮̰̟͚̹̞͙̟̰̘̞̩̝̝̣͉͈̦̗̘̤͔͓̩̺͙͎̻̬̱̲̺͉͚̞͖̩̭͓̼̰̭͔̼̞̻̦͍̣̭͕̭̙̤̘̠͈͖̲̄̔̀̍̓̆͂́̓̉̓̎̍̌͐̌̊̓̆͛͂̓̆̽͒̓̄͆̑̆̔̍̀̓̽͛̄̍͂̅̓̿̈̅́̀͛̋͋̋̄̐̈́̿͒̏̽͊̌̇̕̚͘̕̕̕͜͜͜͜͝͠͠ͅͅḥ̵̨̨̛̛̤͓̬̙̯͉̮̰̤̤͖̻͓̬̻͓̬̟̝͙̩̞̻͍̼͕̰͕̳̲̘̼̮̼͚͕̙͎͉̞̺͙͌̅̆̏̇̃̒́̔̋̌̅͋́̋́̀̊̿̀̂͆̿̿̔̓̇͊̓̈̐̈́̈̊̂͑̂̈́͋̋̎̓̎̎̆̓̀̍̄͗́̎̅̈͂̒̎̈̾͗̆͂͋̿̒̚͘̕͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅë̴̛͇͉̩̥̿́͆͋̆̓̾̉͒̅̾͐͊̀͋̎̑͗̒̊̊̀̈́̂̓̿́͐̈́͒̅̋̑͗̄̄̈́̌̾͆̾̎̈́̂̽̐̀̚̕̚͝͠͠͝ ̵̢̡̧̛̱̠͈͎̹̰̝̗̘̱͎̺͖̫͇̼̜͓̹͙͙̙͍̻̞͇̝̝̯̳͕̜̺̪̄̇̊̑͒̇̾̑͊̔̈̏̿͆̈̏͗͂́̿̒̂͆̎̉̓͑͐͋͊̚̚̕͜͠͝͝͝͝ͅͅn̷̡̢̡̮̠̫̫̮͕̩̮͖̪̺̼̠̲̼̱̭̲̥̰̦͎̺̞̦̪̤̙̜̬̮͍̖͈̺̲͙̜͉̹̖͚̱̬͕͚̮̺̙̜̮͈̘̬͙̝͑̏́̀͛̊͐̿̃̾͐̆͑̃̾̀́͗̐͌̒́́̀̊̏̊̑̆͋̈́̾͐̈̾͋̽͆̏̽̆̃̓̅̌̈́͂͒̃͒̓͌͋͋̅̔̊̈́͐̀͊̌͆͐̄̄̃͛̋̑̒̊̄̏̂̀͑̍̒̉̈́͋̀͗̎̽̏̓̑̔̕͘̚̚͜͜͜͜͝͠͝͠͝͠͠ͅẹ̴̡̡̧̨̧̢̡̢̢̨̛̫̯̹̘̰̻̦̖̤͚̭̪͕͍̜̘̠̮͎̺͕̤͔̼͈̙̠̣̮̘̬̲̯̜͙̤͈̠̦̥͍̹̮̣͙̖̞̙̮͈͉̲̭̟̞͕̦̞̪̻̘̣̟̟͉̱͕̱̱͕͓̝͇̞̝̝͔͉̓̓̇̀̊̎̀̔̀͛̆͋̅̍̔͗́́͒͛͐̅̏̈́̾̈̓̎͊̐̃͆͌̑͛̂̋̀͛̎̈̽̀́͌́͋̍̑̿̅͑̒̾̄̈́̀͋͊̌̓̀̀̆̆͑͐͋͑̕̕̕̚̚͘̚̚͜͠͝͝͝͠͠͝͠͠͝ͅę̸̡̨̨̡̡̧̨̨̡̠̲͙͙͎̞̱̘̝̜̩͚̥͎͚͉̭̮̜̙̹̺̰̹͈͈̱̯̘̼̲̳͉̞̪̥͇̰̱͈͉̲̹̖͎̙̠̯͕̫͚̯̪̰̼͓̟̲͓͓̟̣͔͇͆̑́͒͋̇̐̋́̏̈͗̓͊͑̍̈̋̒͐̋͒̐̿̉͛̏̔̌̆͗̈́̿̋͒͑͐̀̑͂̑͌́̆́͘̚͜͜͜͜͜͠͠͝ͅd̷̨̧̛͕̫̗͚͚͔̣̙̼͙͗͆͊̂̈͒͋͋̎̋̍̎̾͗̍̑̀̉͒̍̇͆͘̕ ̴̨̢̛̖̗̲̬̙̮̩͇̬̻͈̺̳͓͚̼̦̼̥̰̲͓̜̘̮̘̬̘̭͇̻̫̹͈͖̝̫̗̠̻͖͂̋̓̀̈́̔͗̆̅̇͊͌̿̋̐̾̄͜͠͠t̵̢̨̡̨̡̡̡̨̛̛̛̼̘̺̗̻̦̖̳̱͖͖̜̤͚̭̦̲̟̩̳̞͇̼̞̞̮̘̱͖͚̗̗͕̖̯̦̤̲͓͕̩̱̟̗̣͓̰̰̳͉̠̦̻̥̲̬̼̺̲͎̜̘̻̫̱̬̟̱̘̩͈̳̳͕͓̬̣̤̖͖̠̱͔͙͉͓̰̓̈́̃͌͗͒̌́̈́̄̌͆͋́͑̂͐́̀͌̿͆̔̋̈̃̐̍͗̍̔͑͒̏̉͒̅̒̓̋͑͒͊́̽͒̽̑̌͆͋̀̇̑͂͊̈́̈́͂̂̑̀̉̃̊̕̚͘̚̚͘̚̕̕̕͜͜͜͝͠͝͝͠͝ͅͅơ̶̢̡̡̢̢̨̧̨̢̩̝̻̪̣̼̙͍͖̭̜̣͇̘̞̜̫̮̲̟̙̭̝̮̭̙̩̘̫͕͙͖̳̫̠͔̟̙̜͚̻͈͖͓̻̝̹̳̹͓̞͔͎͓̺͍̩͉̯͕̲̬̥̝̤̻͗̈͑̑͐́̀̒́͗́̉̊̔̾̍͆͑͛̅̑̒̀͂̈́̓̅͊͛̊͆̑͐̀̒̓̋͐̆̇͐̓̋̌̂̋̉̈́͆̊́̏̓͂̐̿͊̍͆͐̎̊̌̀̎̊̾̍̿̈̅̕̚̚̚͜͠͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅ ̵̡̢̨̧̨̡̡̡̛̛̳̘̥͉͚̠̹͇̣̮̱̭̪̪̠̥̥͚̩̭̦̥̪͎͉̖̘͖̗̰̘͍̗͓͔̣̣̟͚͔̲̣̩̱͔̹͔̙͍̩̹̖̲̹̬̙̠̻͕̦̤̫͉̻̯̺̰̯̝́̄̌̈́͒̀̓̒̉͊̅̈́̐̒̑̿͊̿͊̇͐̇̔͛͒͌͑̓̆̆̈̄̾̓̊̎̓̆̅̎̈́̃̏̊͛̂̐̾̈́̉̔̋̉̂̆̑̏̅͊́͂̋͛͘̕̕̚̚̚̚̚͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅç̸̧̨̧̨̢̡̧̢̛͇͍̗̱̰̖̯̜̪̙̞͉̣̝̻̞̗̙̦̮̰͔̗͍̰̖̝̩̮͕̖͓̙̥̺̝͙̞͓͚̞̹͓̼͒͆̔̐̏͋̈́̄͆̈́͗͋́͆͊͂͂̉͐̍̂̓͛̚̚͜͜͠͝ò̴̧̧̨̢̢̨̡̢̢̢̹̰͕͚̠̝̜̹͖͉͚̼̹̙̖̤̟̟̭̫̭̬̲͚̗̰̠͚̪̯̖̗̜̦͕̥̟̘͖̖̤̥͍̣̮̙̖̬͖͕̟̰̱͙̘̠̜̮̰̪̥̤̪̱̗̆̈́̐̀͆͛̕͜͜͜͜͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅm̵̛̛̛̪̗̩̖̮͙̘͔̗͇̪͈̯̺͚̹̘͖̝̠̠̯̝̹̥͙͓̗̀͐̾͋̈́̃̎̿͛͆͒̔́̏͆͌̐͛̀̎̊̾́̾̍̏̈́͒̑̏̈̑̒̌̆̊̏̊̀͂̍͆̓̓̅̃̉͘̕̚͝ͅͅĕ̶̡̢̨̛̛̙͉̗̬̮͓̲̹̺͔̠̟͓͍̜͚͎̜̥̬̤̥̺̱̟̦͕̬͙̲̅̐̿̽̃͜͜͜ ̵̧̡̨̡̨̨̧̛̛̛̛̤͕͉͉̙̥͔͍͖̭̥͈͈̮̠̯̹͕͖̠͔̦͖̬̹̺̙̯͚̼̬̲̥̦͉͔̋̍̎͐́̓̄̉̀́́́̅̄̾͂̈́͒͊̀͊̌̏͌͊͗͋͛̆̓̉͒́̌͐͋͐͛́̆̆̊͆͗͂̌͌̏̒̊̍̌̒͒͗̍̃̉̐̀̉͒̌̔̈̆̌̇̄̏̇̄́̀̾̆̓̐̈́͑̆̃͊̎̓̕͘̕̚̕̕̚͠͝͠͝ͅẁ̶̧̨̡̨̡̡̛̺̦͎̪̖͔͓̜̻̲̮̳̼̠͔̯͙̥͎͇͙͔̼̹̯͎̤̖̱̘̘͍͔̰̞̱͓͍͈̩͓̣̣̖̠̯̝̜͇̪͕̻͔̣͙̣̳̻̠̻͎̤̟̼͓̖͚̗̖͉̝̼̘̰̖̳̘͍̘͉͔̬̘̞͇̌̀̈́̄̐̓͛͐̿̐̾͌͋͌̃̾̄̓̂͊͌̕͜͜͝͝i̸̛̛̯̝̼̽͂͗͂́̓̾̂͗̍̋̈̅̿̉̓̋̎̑͛̅̓̽̍̓͑̈́͗̓̑̌͐̾̐̽͊͐̉̈́̀̈̋̒̈́̔͆̂͊̈́̆̈́͂̓̍́͂̽̽̀̆͐͂́̄͆̔̓͗͂̄͒̄͛͌̔̈͒̈̌̓̑͊̔͘̚̚̕̕̚͝͝t̶̡̡̡̨̨̨̧̧̛̬̰̞̞̙͓̝̝̖̜̱̗̟̻̘͉̙̻̱̼̰͇̞͚͉̻̦͙̠̫̩̙̱͔͙̳̝̹͙̻̭̬̭̠͎͈͈̣̟͇͕̙̗̤͉̘̭͎͖̰͇̦̭̝̠̘̬̠͙̗̯͔͍̬̞̞̦̳͚̮̘̳͔͇̖̘̾̽͂͌͊̒̈́̒̽̅́̔̒͊͗̀̃̈́̽̈̆͛́̂͒̊̕̕͘͠ͅͅḥ̸̨̡̧̛̛̛̛̖͓̗̘̞̜̝̰͚̾͌̇̋̀̌̓̈́̿͌̋̓̾̆͒̋̄͐̇̿̎́͗̓̓̍̍̊̉͗̋̐͊̌̓͑̑͛́͗͆͊̐̋͒̋̾͊̓͌̾̽͑͌̈̂̌̒̊̈́̏͒̆͆̿̐̅̇̀͊̏̓̈́̀̾͐͋̿̉͛͋̽̆̄͂͐̃͘̕̕͝͠͝͝͝͝ì̷̲͌̉̿͂̆̈́́̂̅̎͑̐̈̾̍̆̊̋̋͒̉̋̓̃̽̂̔͝n̷̨̢̨̡̢̨̢̢̧̡̛̛̛̞̯̫̹͕̟̞̻̝̳̥͓̥͎̞͕͉͖̩͇̣̜̼̻̥̗̯̙̯̦̯͇̞̝͉̞͖̱̩̰̜̭̺̤͕̹̣͙̤̱͔̝̹̫̫̼͇͕͇̗̖̳͎̤̲͓͈͚͕̗͇̗̗͓̣̦̺͖̞̻̠̰̝̩̦͉͎̘̯̺̲̠̟̼̫͎͓̅̈́̿̈̏͆̓̍̎͌̈́̍͋́̐͒͐̈́̃̾̕͘͜͝͝ͅͅͅ ̶̨̢̝̜̙͙̣͔͈͇̼̭̮̙̭͔͙̘̥̦͓̼̗̖̘͍̞̱̙̦͚̦̭̞̱͓̘͍̜͍̪̜̻̩̭̓̾̅̌͂͗͒̇̅͂̋̓̃̆̂̎͂͂͑̏́̃̑͌̆̂̀̚͜͝ͅȳ̶̡̨̨̧̡̢̨̢̧̨̨̛̤͉̦͕̠͙͚͓̣͈̬̖̠̙̦̥̼̦̻͓̣̲̗̲̼̼͎̳̝͉͉̼̘͙̙̯̼͇͙̩͖̞͇̹̻̥̯̯̼̭̤̮̰̼̳͉̭̠͓͉̳͖̅͆̎͂̏͗̈́̈́͌͑̋͒͆̓̊́͆̃̓̓̊̈́̆͛̑̀̀͛͒̒̈́̀̅̆̌͒̔́͗͋̂͌̍̈̓͐͛̍͑̇̽̂͛̾̐͒͛͒̏̈́̑͐̈́̎̎̆̓̇̋̈́͐̈́͋̐̌̈͑̉̄̿̒͑̌̎̏́̽̃͆̑͋̿̿́̐̽̽͘̕͘͘̚͘̚͘͠͝͝ͅͅơ̸̢̞͗͑̄̃͌͋̋̈̈̽̒̀͌̚̚͝ừ̵̧̡̨̨̡̡̧̛̛̳͎̰̭͓͔̲̠̩̮͖̖̯͎͍̱̳̺͖͎̺͚͓̮̟̠̥̯̩̼̣̜͈̙͕̟̺̣̮̦̦͕͈̰̭̱̖̰̪͔̥̣̰̯̉͐͒̋̍̾̿͌͛̋̌͒̈́̀̾͆̌͒̾̌̓͆̽̿̇̈́̌͗͒̅̔̽͂̐̍̑̏̅͊͑͑̏̊͋̾̍̌̀̀̑̅͒̈́̅͂̐̽͊̒̒̂̎̅̈́͐͒̅̇̔͒̏̕̕̚͘͘͘͘͝͝͝ͅ

“Don’t miss it this time romantic.”