Lorem64

Gone for good, Bi. 19, Belgian, Democratic-Socialist. To be fair, you have to have a very high IQ to understand Rick and Morty. The humour is extremely subtle, and without a solid grasp of theoretical physics most of the jokes will go over a typical viewer's head. There's also Rick's nihilistic outlook, which is deftly woven into his characterisation- his personal philosophy draws heavily from Narodnaya Volya literature, for instance. The fans understand this stuff; they have the intellectual capacity to truly appreciate the depths of these jokes, to realise that they're not just funny- they say something deep about LIFE. As a consequence people who dislike Rick & Morty truly ARE idiots- of course they wouldn't appreciate, for instance, the humour in Rick's existential catchphrase "Wubba Lubba Dub Dub," which itself is a cryptic reference to Turgenev's Russian epic Fathers and Sons. I'm smirking right now just imagining one of those addlepated simpletons scratching their heads in confusion as Dan Harmon's genius wit unfolds itself on their television screens. What fools.. how I pity them. 😂 And yes, by the way, i DO have a Rick & Morty tattoo. And no, you cannot see it. It's for the ladies' eyes only- and even then they have to demonstrate that they're within 5 IQ points of my own (preferably lower) beforehand. Nothin personnel kid 😎 Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life… He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying. The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. Ironic. He could save others from death, but not himself. Omg hai ___ I’m anon-san and I absolutely luuuv @@ anime <3 and my fav is naurto!!! Okies so anyways, im going to tell you about the BEST day of my life when I met my hot husband sasuke!! <333333333 OMFGZ HE WAS SOOOOO FREAKIN KAWAII IN PERSON!!! Supa kawaii desu!!!!!!!! ___________________________________^ When I walked onto Tokyo street =____=I looked up and saw…SASUKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333333!!!! “ KONNICHIWA OMGZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ SUPA SUPA SUPA KAWAII SASUKE-SAMA!!!!!” I yelled n____n then he turned chibi then un-chibi!! he looked at me [O.O;;;;;;;;;;;] and then he saw how hot I am ** he grabbed my hand and winked ~_ then pulled me behind a pocky shop o_o and started to kiss me!!!!!! [OMG!!! HIS TOUNGE TASTED LIKE RAMEN!!! RLY!! . <.< .< (O) (O) (O)] then I saw some baka fat bitch watching us and I could tell she was undressing him with her eyes!!!!!!! [ -- ;;;;; OMG I COULDN’T BELIEVE IT EITHER!!! (ò_ó) (ò_ó) (ò_ó)] so I yelled “UH UH BAKA NEKO THAT’S MY MAN WHY DON’T YOU GO HOOK UP WITH NARUTO CAUSE SASUKE-SAMA LOVES ME!!! (ò_ó)” then sasuke held me close == and said he would only ever love me and kissed me again!!!!!!! ** (O)/ then we went to his apartment and banged all night long and made 42 babies and they all became ninjas!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nyaaaaa!!! (___<) ^____;;;;;;;;;;;;;;;; Do it! Just do it! Don't let your dreams be dreams. Yesterday, you said tomorrow. So just do it! Make your dreams come true! Just do it! Some people dream of success, while you're gonna wake up and work hard at it! Nothing is impossible! You should get to the point where anyone else would quit, and you're not gonna stop there! No, what are you waiting for? Do it! Just do it! Yes you can! Just do it. If you're tired of starting over, stop giving up! You show me a machine or a computer program that can match the stellar majesty of Luciano Pavarotti’s singing “Nessun Dorma,” and I’ll acknowledge it as music. Until then, it’s fucking garbage. If you’re under 25 years old — or an immature 30-plus — I’m about to set your ass straight. So, listen up. Your music is fucking garbage. There, I said it. Mindless crap. Eardrum-bursting, dagger-in-the-eyes, ass-bagging, blow your fucking brains out — unadulterated dog shit. That pretty much sums up the type of music that’s popular with today’s young people. Listen, you stupid sons of bitches. I’m talking at you. I’m your elder. My opinion demands respect. Your music hasn’t got life. It’s fucking dead. Your music is void of humanity. It’s as fake as a porn queen’s orgasm. There’s no soul. It’s tripe. It’s a carp in the sea of music. The stuff you listen to was created by fucking machines. Today’s “artists” — there’s an oxymoron — don’t even need to know how to play musical instruments or sing. In other words, no fucking talent whatsoever is needed to succeed today in music. You heard me. No. Talent. Whatsoever. And, I’m fucking sick of it because the current generation is taking the gold we gave you and dragging it into a sewer. Listen up, you little pricks. I’m not stuck in some kind of classic rock time warp. Fact is, I expose myself to many different kinds of music. I give all music a chance. Even the techno-trash littering the modern music scene is something I’ve tried to digest, which I found to be like choking down a plate of raw oysters laced with salmonella. It would be nice to enjoy fresh musical acts. I want to hear new songs. I like some young people, especially when they get my order right. But real music is written and performed by humans, not a fucking computer program linked up to a laser show. Fact: The more fancy gadgets and distractions you need, the most your music just flat out sucks. Music should convey some sense of humanity — who we are, and what we feel. I know that’s a hard concept to digest since your idea of a relationship is picking up a new Twitter follower. Where’s the love and romance in the mind-numbing rubbish that’s played at most nightclubs? Is there any conveyance pain and loss? Or pride and joy? How about playing a catchy tune that’s just fun to sing along with? Is that too much to fucking ask? I don’t expect to like everything that’s new. As an amateur observer of the human condition, I freely acknowledge that successive generations are obliged to a continuation of the species which sometimes entails pushing boundaries and violating the preferences of their elders. History shows the more radically different one generation is from one to the next, the greater degree of innovations are sparked from such permutations. Music is just one by-product of inevitable cultural and technological shifts, sometimes mislabeled as advances. Yes, yes, yes! New music should piss off plenty of parents and leathery jokers like me. At least I’ll accept “cultural evolution” as being inevitable, and necessary. If you don’t believe this, take a look at the past century. Nearly a hundred years ago, traditional musicians hated a new sound called jazz. Later, jazz loyalists despised rock n’ roll and even the early sound of Motown. After that, the rockers hated disco music. Then, just about everyone hated New Wave and the 1980’s. Next came rap music which irritated everyone over the age of 30. Now, it’s hip hop and something called dubstep, which is essentially music made by computers and sound-making software. This garbage makes rap sound like fucking Amadeus. There’s a reason this “music” is used as a weapon on suspected terrorists, forcing them to wear earphones and being bombarded with such abuse for hours. I’m not making this up. This is the brain-frying shit they put on the headphones and strap to the ears of prisoners who are handcuffed behind their backs and sit naked in jail cells while they are forced to endure this madness. I’d rather blow my fucking brains out, and if I ever did managed to get out, I’d be running off to join the nearest terrorist cell in order to extract my revenge. [Have a listen this rubbish] (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7PCkvCPvDXk) if you can stand it for more than a few seconds I know what you’re thinking. You want to go after my music. You want to blast away at me. Go ahead, fuckers. See if you can top what I like at the conclusion of this article. You’re drawing so fucking dead you should even be in my game. So, what constitutes real music? Here’s a list of things I believe to be essential. REAL MUSIC DEFINED BY [redacted]: (1) Real music is created by humans, not by a machine or a computer. (2) Real music has structure and consistency. (3) Real music elicits real emotions — of love, loss, anger, fear, happiness, hope, inspiration, or anything related to the gambit of being human. (4) Real music requires talent. (5) Real music requires instruments and/or voices. (6) Real music should be cross generational. (7) Real music shouldn’t need gadgets or special effects to be enjoyed. Here and now, I’ll leave you with a video clip of real music (CLICK BELOW). When one of those fucking machines creates a sound that can somehow match this magical majesty, then give me a call. Until then, don’t label what you listen to as “music.” It’s not music. It’s garbage. Well, Seymour, I made it- despite your directions. Ah. Superintendent Chalmers. Welcome. I hope you're prepared for an unforgettable luncheon. Yeah. Oh, egads! My roast is ruined. But what if I were to purchase fast food and disguise it as my own cooking? Delightfully devilish, Seymour. Ah- Skinner with his crazy explanations The superintendent's gonna need his medication When he hears Skinner's lame exaggerations There'll be trouble in town tonight Seymour! Superintendent, I was just- uh, just stretching my calves on the windowsill. Isometric exercise. Care to join me? Why is there smoke coming out of your oven, Seymour? Uh- Oh. That isn't smoke. It's steam. Steam from the steamed clams we're having. Mmm. Steamed clams. Whew. Superintendent, I hope you're ready for mouthwatering hamburgers. I thought we were having steamed clams. D'oh, no. I said steamed hams. That's what I call hamburgers. You call hamburgers steamed hams? Yes. It's a regional dialect. Uh-huh. Uh, what region? - Uh, upstate New York. Really. Well, I'm from Utica, and I've never heard anyone use the phrase "steamed hams. " Oh, not in Utica. No. It's an Albany expression. I see. You know, these hamburgers are quite similar to the ones they have at Krusty Burger. Oh, no. Patented Skinner burgers. Old family recipe. For steamed hams. Yes. Yes. And you call them steamed hams despite the fact that they are obviously grilled. Ye- You know, the- One thing I should- - Excuse me for one second. Of course. Well, that was wonderful. A good time was had by all. I'm pooped. Yes. I should be- Good Lord! What is happening in there? - Aurora borealis. Uh- Aurora borealis at this time of year at this time of day in this part of the country localized entirely within your kitchen? - Yes. May I see it? No. Seymour. ! The house is on fire. ! No, Mother. It's just the northern lights. Well, Seymour, you are an odd fellow but I must say you steam a good ham. Here's the thing. You said a "wyvern is a dragon." Is it in the same family? Yes. No one's arguing that. As someone who is a 1k MMR feeder who studies dragons, I am telling you, specifically, in dota, no one calls wyverns dragons. If you want to be "specific" like you said, then you shouldn't either. They're not the same thing. If you're saying "dragon family" you're referring to the taxonomic grouping of Varanidae, which includes things from wyverns to eldwurms to drakes. So your reasoning for calling a wyvern a dragon is because random people "call the flying lizards dragons?" Let's get gyarados and charizards in there, then, too. Also, calling someone a noob or a feeder? It's not one or the other, that's not how taxonomy works. They're both. A wyvern is a wyvern and a member of the dragon family. But that's not what you said. You said a wyvern is a dragon, which is not true unless you're okay with calling all members of the dragon family dragons, which means you'd call eldwurms, drakes, and other flying lizards dragons, too. Which you said you don't. It's okay to just admit you're wrong, you know? RAWR!! x3 nuzzles! pounces on u uwu u so warm. couldn't help but notice ur bulge from across the floor. nuzzlez yo' necky wecky~ murr~ hehe. unzips yo baggy ass pants oof baby u so musky. take me home, pet me, N' make me yours & dont forget to stuff me! see me wag my widdle baby tail, all for your bolgy-wolgy! kisses n lickies yo neck, i hope daddy likeies. nuzzles n wuzzles yo chest, i be gettin thirsty. hey i got a lil itch u think u can help me? only seven inches long UwU PLS ADOPT ME. paws on ur bulge as i lick my lips uwu punish me pls. bout to hit'em with this furry shit. you dont see it coming pounces on you u ded'd Gomenasai, my name is Ken-Sama. I’m a 27 year old American Otaku (Anime fan for you gaijins). I draw Anime and Manga on my tablet, and spend my days perfecting my art and playing superior Japanese games. (Disgaea, Final Fantasy, Persona series) I train with my Katana every day, this superior weapon can cut clean through steel because it is folded over a thousand times, and is vastly superior to any other weapon on earth. I earned my sword license two years ago, and I have been getting better every day. I speak Japanese fluently, both Kanji and the Osaka dialect, and I write fluently as well. I know everything about Japanese history and their bushido code, which I follow 100% When I get my Japanese visa, I am moving to Tokyo to attend a prestigious High School to learn more about their magnificent culture. I hope I can become an animator for Studio Ghibli or a game designer! I own several kimonos, which I wear around town. I want to get used to wearing them before I move to Japan, so I can fit in easier. I bow to my elders and seniors and speak Japanese as often as I can, but rarely does anyone manage to respond. Wish me luck in Japan! Gimme gimme chicken tendies, Be they crispy or from Wendys. Spend my hard-earned good-boy points, on Kid's Meal ball pit burger joints. Mummy lifts me to the car, To find me tendies near and far. Enjoy my tasty tendie treats, in comfy big boy booster seats. McDonald's, Hardee's, Popeye's, Cane's, But of my tendies none remains. She tries to make me take a nappy, But sleeping doesn't make me happy. Tendies are the only food, That puts me in the napping mood. I'll scream and shout and make a fuss, I'll scratch, I'll bite, I'll even cuss! Tendies are my heart's desire, Fueled by raging, hungry fire. Mummy sobs and wails and cries, But tears aren't tendies, nugs or fries. My good-boy points were fairly earned, To buy the tendies that I've yearned. But there's no tendies on my plate! Did mummy think that I'd just ate? "TENDIES TENDIES GET THEM NOW, YOU FAT, UNGRATEFUL, SLUGGISH SOW!" I screech while hurling into her eyes, My foul-smell bowel-dwelling diaper surprise. For she who is un-pooped on is she who remembers: Never forget my chicken tenders. I mean, look, I'm a bernie supporter and a lot of us are frustrated, and cranky. Like... holy shit . My mom came into my room to bring me a plate of chicken nuggets and I literally screamed at her and hit the plate of chicken nuggets out of her hand. She started yelling and swearing at me and I slammed the door on her. I'm so distressed right now I don't know what to do. I didn't mean to do that to my mom but I'm literally in shock from the results tonight. I feel like I'm going to explode. Why the fucking fuck is he losing? This can't be happening. I'm having a fucking breakdown. I don't want to believe the world is so corrupt. I want a future to believe in. I want Bernie to be president and fix this broken country. I cannot fucking deal with this right now. It wasn't supposed to be like this, I thought he was polling well for California???? This is so fucked. Whenever I get a package of plain M&Ms, I make it my duty to continue the strength and robustness of the candy as a species. To this end, I hold M&M duels. Taking two candies between my thumb and forefinger, I apply pressure, squeezing them together until one of them cracks and splinters. That is the “loser,” and I eat the inferior one immediately. The winner gets to go another round. I have found that, in general, the brown and red M&Ms are tougher, and the newer blue ones are genetically inferior. I have hypothesized that the blue M&Ms as a race cannot survive long in the intense theater of competition that is the modern candy and snack-food world. Occasionally I will get a mutation, a candy that is misshapen, or pointier, or flatter than the rest. Almost invariably this proves to be a weakness, but on very rare occasions it gives the candy extra strength. In this way, the species continues to adapt to its environment. When I reach the end of the pack, I am left with one M&M, the strongest of the herd. Since it would make no sense to eat this one as well, I pack it neatly in an envelope and send it to M&M Mars, A Division of Mars, Inc., Hackettstown, NJ 17840-1503 U.S.A., along with a 3×5 card reading, “Please use this M&M for breeding purposes.” This week they wrote back to thank me, and sent me a coupon for a free 1/2 pound bag of plain M&Ms. I consider this “grant money.” I have set aside the weekend for a grand tournament. From a field of hundreds, we will discover the True Champion. There can be only one. What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.