DeathKnight

[YOUTUBE="Auto-Tune the News"]3eooXNd0heM[/YOUTUBE]

[img]http://photos-a.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs001.snc1/4141_82142479670_630779670_1799232_7470455_n.jpg[/img] [color=crimson]I am wearing a hat. That is the most appropriate caption I came up with.[/color]

[color=crimson]To my horror, I just sneezed. I have also felt congestion in my sinuses. My throat could be described as "slightly scratchy." All that is left now is for death to take me.[/color]

[color=crimson]Chorizo and egg tacos are a frequent breakfast of mine. I have also been known to partake in a tasty bagel and cream cheese combo. I'm not sure I have an amusing breakfast story. Amusement and early mornings do not usually appear in tandem. :([/color]

[color=crimson]New rule: Always have your swim trunks and your flippy floppies.[/color]

[quote name='Zen'][color=royalblue][size=1] Pretty amazing stuff right here. A great lyricst and a super original song concept.[/color][/size][/QUOTE] [color=crimson]Oh, damn. I was coming here to share this and you beat me. So, yeah. Good counter defense, in my opinion, to the "rap is not music" camp.[/color]

[YOUTUBE]7r0KpWMNxnM[/YOUTUBE] [YOUTUBE]8eJ3KD3p1Jc[/YOUTUBE] [YOUTUBE]cASLfP6mkC0[/YOUTUBE] [color=crimson]Aesop Rock, Edan, El-P, Wu-Tang Clan, DMX, Jay-Z, Snoop Dogg, Tupac, Lil' Wayne, Sole, Cage, MFDoom, MURS, and Mr. Lif also get play in my life.[/color]

[quote name='Zen'][color=royalblue][size=1] Favorite song by far, "I'm On A Boat" ft. T-Pain. [/color][/size][/QUOTE] [color=crimson]You can only say that if you have your swim trunks and your flippy floppies. [YOUTUBE]IpGp-22t0lU[/YOUTUBE] I present to you Atlas by Battles.[/color]

[quote name='John']Ready when you are.[/QUOTE] [img]http://www.atworkandbored.com/goof_off_games/jigsaw_puzzle/rhinoceros.jpg[/img] [color=crimson]Let's get it on.[/color]

[color=crimson]The tax doesn't affect shisha as far as I know, so. . . . . . my red hookah and I are open for business if you are in the San Antonio area.[/color]

[img]http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images02/110/l_00ac23c0bf74468282cdc8f0047cb6e5.jpg[/img] [img]http://photos-c.ak.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ak-snc1/hs034.snc1/2411_1096515178745_1402571046_30306370_7841995_n.jpg[/img] [color=crimson]Cancer now comes in happy O shapes.[/color]

[quote name='ChibiHorsewoman'][color=#9933ff][font=monotype corsiva][size=4] Second Oh man, the food service experiances... *sigh* Well you're not in fast food because you're the sharpest knife in the drawer, you're there to make money.[/color][/font][/size][/QUOTE] [color=crimson]As a man of reasonable intelligence and an ex-Wendy's worker I'd have to disagree with this stereotype. There are intelligent people who work in food service and hold conversations about philosophy in the break room while all you grotty little consumers come to get your saturated fats and sugars. [/color]

[quote name='Lunox'][font=trebuchet ms] I want a random huge influx of new members. I would love that.[/font][/QUOTE] [color=crimson]Let us entice them with a number of hookers.[/color]

[color=crimson]I've picked up that manga before and read it out of a general confusion as to what the subject matter of it was other than, you know, some kind of awesome boyfriend. I would not feel threatened by this, Rai, for you are a power unstoppable by any girly mangas.[/color]

[color=crimson]Neil, you still look large and frightening. [img]http://photos-h.ll.facebook.com/photos-ll-snc1/v2683/102/111/1402571046/n1402571046_30333983_807843.jpg[/img] [img]http://photos-h.ak.fbcdn.net/photos-ak-snc1/v2683/102/111/1402571046/n1402571046_30319615_962646.jpg[/img][/color]

[color=crimson]First thing in my mind, Cloverfield: [spoiler]I am not a medical expert, but Beth was impaled through the chest with a steel bar. The characters proceed to lift Beth up, ripping the steel bar out of her chest, and wrap the wound in a makeshift dressing. For the rest of the movie, Beth is running and gunning better than anyone else with no obvious impediment from the puncture wound in her chest - not even a little pain or bleeding. I remember watching this in theaters. I see Beth impaled through the chest and I'm sitting there waiting for a tearful "oh man, the girl I like is going to die in front of me" scene but, instead, they just rip her off of the damn thing and keep on truckin'.[/color][/spoiler]

[color=crimson]I watched [url=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VddG3EzG9ks]Mutant Chronicles[/url] recently for shits and giggles. It is a B-grade movie of incredible stupidity and questionable dialog+special effects, but damn if I didn't find myself entertained by the sheer spectacle of it all. I'm also not really sure how John Malkovich got involved in that movie.[/color]

[color=crimson]I bought shisha for my hookah that expired in 2006. :( Sometimes discounts are too good to be true, guys. What's the most expired thing you discovered you bought?[/color]

[color=crimson][b]IF I AM NOT REMEMBERED IN NOSTALGIC OTAKUBOARDS THREADS I MUST RISE FROM THE DARKEST OCEANS AND ONCE AGAIN RING THE TORRID HELLFIRE BELL OF INTENSE SUFFERATION UPON THESE LANDS[/b] Also my favorite moment was Big Brother II because I became good friends with Tori and Kei. And other people. :) Kthx bai[/color]

[b]Take Out[/b] [color=crimson]I told myself to stop at the stop light but I decided to hit the pedestrians first, wait, what? I need to. . . I need the needle and I need to stop, wake up, stop and wake up. I'm sleepy. I need to wake up because the early bird gets the worm, that's what they say at least - I know that because I'm drowning in these thoughts that aren't mine, ya' know? Or do I know? Of course I know! See, I'll give myself a shot of the ol' shit and sit outside the Church with a cigarette half cocked out of my mouth. I'm watchin' some lazy trails of smoke snake just past my brow and stumble up to meet the stars. My grip on the hatchet tenses and I feel my blood flood with all kinds of waker-uppers or stims or whatever the hell kids half my age call them. I can feel the pores on my skin open up and let loose a torrent of sweat. I feel good, yeah, I feel real good. I stagger to my feet and crack my neck to loosen myself up. It's a foggy-fuck-night and I'mma feeling good. I need something to do. I walk out into the parking lot and drop the cig from my mouth onto the ground. The dim light of the embers burns orange and resonates with the burning in my heart ? this is good shit I'm feeling, yeah. I take a few practice slashes with my hatchet and feel the cool night air tango with the sweat across my body. I am alive and I know I am alive because I can feel that I am alive. Not the superficial alive society teaches you, but the primal animal alive that screams and tears into the night with blood red eyes and a thirst for every minute you conquer a bit more of time. Right now? Right now in my time? Right now, well, right now I'm a night owl and I'm flying through the air to the mouse skittering along the ground past the twigs towards his hole but there's no time and I think I'm going to get him and I think I'm almost there and I've almost got him in my claws and ? . . . I crouch over the guy and look at his face. ?Hey, man. Hey. Hey-hey-hey-hey. Hey.? There's no response. The pool of blood around his head spreads slowly to form a crimson halo. ?Hey, MAN!? I slap his face a couple of times to no response. ?Ah, well. I didn't have much to talk about anyway. I just thought I'd ask why you're laying around out here, ya' know?? I say and pull the hatchet out of his face. There's a clean cut straight down the middle that perfectly divides it into left and right face-halves. Half faces? Facehalfs? Whatever - this guy is acting a bit strange for a healthy lookin' fella. ?Behavior like that, laying in streets and stuff, that's a bit worrisome in a healthy individual, yeah? Might need to have yourself checked our or something, ya' know?? I clean the hatchet off on the dead man's button-up shirt. There's a pen in his pocket protector that's bright orange. Bright orange embers of a cigarette I vaguely remember smoking. . . when did I smoke it? I take the pen. It's one of those slick advertising pens ? the ones with a company logo or address plastered all over one side that you never pay attention to since, well, you got the pen to be a fucking pen, not a little billboard with ink. Huh. Tong's Chinese Food. I fucking love this place and it's real nearby. I think I'll go grab myself a little No. 6 special tonight! I smile widely at the thought of steaming piles of rice mixing with fried chicken dripping in sauces I can't remember the name of but, hey, who cares! Time to get some Chinese! I walk away from the man, not thanking him for suggesting a place to eat, and head down the street. The fog cloaks me. It consumes me. I am part of one large collective white mass slowly infiltrating every part of this town and overwhelming your very visions. I am a demi-god. I stand atop the rest of you as a king, I own all of you, I. . . I will not be forgotten again, not this time, not this time, not this time, not this time, not this time. . . no, you'll be fine, you'll take their heads and raise them high and you will know that you are the king and, and, and, and. . . . . . and I'm gasping for breath and stumbling a bit now, but I'm no worse for wear, I promise. This street is long but my belly is rumbling. I want the No. 6 special. Stir fry, yeah, I know that's what I want deep in my gullet. It's late in the evening but they will have to serve me the No. 6 special, yeah? I don't have any money but I'll get them to give it to me somehow. I have this hatchet. Yeah, I have the hatchet and that's all I need. I was alone but now I see ahead of me there's a guy and a girl holding hands walking. Lovers! Young lovers! What a quaint thing, fuck, what a fucking quaint thing to see on a lonely night like this, I don't know if I'll mess with them, I know I shouldn't, eh, but, that sounds, you know, I just like to think that I won't. I will though. I'm the night owl, yeah, piercing eyes going through the haze right down your back and into your soul. I see you and I hear you and I feel you and I know you and I am on you now and you are screaming and my hatchet is through you and your girlfriend is running and I am dancing on the light like a fairy at play right through her body and her legs are flailing and she is crying and all of this time I never knew how good it felt to be alive. Never knew, never knew. That's a shame, that's a fuck ugly shame is what it is. I gotta get that No. 6 though, man, so you relax with your girl here. I tuck them together on the side of the road under a very ugly tree, very ugly like them, very ugly like you, or very ugly like me? I question my question. Ugly like a tree, ugly like me, ugly like a tree! That's a fairly good limerick with a fairly good comparison, I guess. I put them in a kind of last embrace or, eh, I did as much as I could since the guys arm came off somewhere over there. I dunno. Tricky business sometimes, this hatchet phase of mine. Tricky, tricky. I hope it doesn't end too soon, this tricky-tricky business I'm in. I hop away from them and wipe the sweat off my brow. I have a bit of blood on me now but that's okay! High spirits. Morale remains good with the team and fuck if I am going to give up the opportunity to have myself some No. 6 special. Tong's is right over here, just off Broadway, next to the Vietnamese place. I wonder if they ever, you know, hate each other ? Chinese and Vietnamese people have a long history of combat and death and killing and suffering and, you know, between their people. Suffering. I like the word suffering. Say the word suffering and you feel so. . . dirty. S-u-f-f-e-r-i-n-g. I spell it out, say it out, yell it out, sing it out, and I am OUT! It's 11:45 and the lights over Tong's show the closed sign. I hold my aching head and through the sweat, fog, and cold I know that I had missed out by an hour and fifteen minutes my chance to have a No. 6. The workers can't be gone. I slam on the door with my fist as hard as I can. The glass shatters and I hear the sound of someone inside. I grip my hatchet firmly and step inside the restaurant, slithering down and into the darkened room. I feel the pulse of the hatchet in my hand, the cool air becoming staler, the animal life inside of me writhing and fucking and screaming and reaching deep down into my brain to push the little red button that no one should ever push. I am the night owl. I am over the counter and no one is there. I am past the tables into the kitchen and there are three men, two Mexicans and one Chinese, smoking around the back door. The two Mexicans are leaning on either side of the door and the Chinese man is standing outside, looking at them with a big, dumb grin on his fucking face. I pick up a butcher knife from the rack. They didn't hear the glass, did they? They didn't hear the glass! I sneer and now I am flowing past the dishwasher across freshly-cleaned floors gliding with my twin blades glinting as they ask me to deliver blood. I drag my blade across throats beside me and come down on the Chinaman, swooping from way up high like an angel to bring about deliverance on the wilted, wasted soul of the damned. I stand up. I'm gasping for breath. The cool air is on my skin again. The drip-drip-drip of the blood off of my blades soothes my nerves. I'm not sweating as much now. I still feel the animal, though. I still feel him beating inside of my heart and struggling to rip out of my body into the wide expanse of the Earth. I still feel. . . hungry. Shit. I could have used a No. 6. I hear the distant sound of wailing. I feel the flashing lights from blocks away. I can hear the wings coming from way up high of an angel. . . De-liver-y. De-liver-ance? Some deliverance? For me? - I wrote this scene for a creative writing class and I like it. It makes me hungry. The last time I spent some time on OB the blood flowed pretty well in this forum so I hope that's still the case.[/color]

[quote name='chibi-master']Hrm...I see. In that case, I'll take your word for it and fix that mistake immediately.[/QUOTE] [color=crimson]Stop making mistakes about penises. That's a terrible path to start down. I love anime, maps, history, visual novels, and other things not too cool. Also, I do love corgis. Corgis. . . I'm not sure there is a correlation between dorkdom and loving Pembroke Welsh Corgis. If anything, that kind of adoration of an awesome dog breed should only improve your social standing with your peers. I don't consider myself socially awkward enough to be a stereotypical geek or nerd. The three terms have a negative connotation to me where either some kind of hobby associated with a particular subculture (anime), intellectual pursuits, or general awkwardness mixed with some of the above interferes with the "normality" of the person.[/color]

[color=crimson]The redeeming feature of this show is Brule's Rules. Those twenty to sixty seconds of Brule make the entire viewing experience worth my while.[/color]

[color=crimson]I saw this on your Facebook and would have supported you launching some kind of strike against the mechanic and/or shop in question involving missiles of a very aggressive and explosive variety. I have done my best to avoid getting ripped off by mechanics though there are so many terrible ones. Even registered dealers are fond of tacking on unnecessary work onto your vehicle. Car ownership is troublesome.[/color]

[color=crimson]Dude my best Christmas gift this year was a Pembroke Welsh Corgi shirt given to me by my friend David. Awesome.[/color]

[quote name='Blitz_Kid']Can someone help me if they already did some or most of the quest already, and it is real important to me. So if you already own Persona 4 and played through most of the quest already, then can someone tell me where to find the Angel Statue and the Demon Statue? For some reason I can't find them and I can't figure out what place they are talking about, so any place you could think of?[/QUOTE] [color=crimson]Pretty sure they were in Yukiko's Castle somewhere.[/color]