Epsilon

I am the first to wish Kaweebo/Pinkie Pie a merry birthday. It is his birthday, right?

It's a problem on my end. In hindsight, I don't really know what I was thinking when I edited it the way I did.... or why I edited it at all.

There once was a man from Peru Roses are red Violets are blue Buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo buffalo buffalo Buffalo buffalo

PRIVATE POPCORN REPORTING FOR DUTY

Upon returning, I almost immediately felt the need to revive this thread. Does anyone have any Scout or Demo tips? I'm eager to expand into classes I don't usually play, and I'm unsure as to where to start.

Second-person shooter.

Boy, I haven't made a noteworthy post here in ages. Hello again. And stuff.

I found it somewhat fascinating, as well... and I think it amused me a bit more than it should have. There are some coherent poems I like, but I'm so inept and careless at analyzing them that they usually fly over my head.

It was midnight on the ocean; Not a street car was in sight. The sun was shining brightly, And it rained all day that night. ‘Twas a summer’s night in winter And the rain was snowing fast. A barefoot boy with shoes on Stood sitting on the grass. The rain was pouring down, The moon was shining bright, And everything that you could see Was hidden out of sight. It was evening and the rising sun Was setting in the West. The little fishes in the trees Were huddled in their nest. While the organ peeled potatoes, Lard was rendered by the choir. While the sexton rang the dish rag, Someone set the church on fire. “Holy Smoke,” the preacher shouted, And in the rush he lost his hair. Now his head resembles heaven, For there is no parting there. I saw a great, big, tiny house Ten thousand miles away. And to my view ‘twas out of sight Last night, the other day. The walls projected inward, The front door round the back. Alone it stood between two more. The walls were whitewashed black. Most sense ever made in a poem.

If x doesn't equal 5, then how did beep boopity flip flappity gumbo chops?

Such auspicious weather here in Metro Atlanta! I think I'll go swimming.

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zzJMI2NSkhE I've likely posted this before, but it's a great video.

I don't know what to say, frankly. Only that I'm not exactly happy in response to this.

Night of the Living Dad An enthralling tale about a dad who, at night,

Legendary Norse Potato Shotgun Sword Rocket Launcher of Death

Tornadoes on Christmas. Woohoo.

Yeah, I think Steam's currently just being Steam. Good to know I'm not the only one with this issue.

1741 - Benedict Arnold is born.