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I always knew facebook was evil!

I prefer the trix method for manly coffee:

I grab a bunch of big coffee beans, shove them in my mouth, chew on them for about 90 seconds, then wash it down with boiling water.

I think he means "sucking up".

EDIT:  Original response deleted.  I am no longer in the mood to beat the dead horse.

For clarity, I love the PD, and the BIP, which is what brought me here to begin with.  I don't get emotional over the internet, or at least I try not to, so it's easy for me to go from insulting to praising if I believe whatever I'm on about is worthy of the insult/praise.  Flighty pothead I've been called.  Maybe that is true.

Also, I never intended to shit all over the forums, only on this thread and my intro.  Which I've said before.  I'm here for the same reason I keep fucking with you all; because some of you fuckers are hilarious, and brilliant.

- trix

It's being really sucky in this thread.
http://www.principiadiscordia.com/forum/index.php?topic=11449.new;topicseen#new

That was my reaction as well.

Maybe he thought I was being sarcastic?

That wasn't an insult. It's just a shorthand commonly used for "person on the internet who lacks social skills and doesn't appear to recognize or understand other people's emotional reactions". http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=assburger

FYI.

Ah, now I understand.  I take back my sarcasm.

[WELL DONE!!!]

I find the BIP stuff to be utterly brilliant, and in many respects even superior to the original PD, which I am an enormous fan of.  The PD was definitely more upbeat, this is true, but many people I have shown the PD to fail to see the texture beneath the silliness.  The BIP does not have that problem, and from my experience has been better received.

The link to the pamphlet in the OP is a dead 404 though, perhaps that should be fixed?  I am having trouble finding a copy of the BIP material in easy-to-print pamphlet format.

Also, it should have a credits section, whether or not it's part of the pamphlet itself.  Somewhere I can easily find out at-a-glance who wrote which parts.

Either way though, to everyone involved, WELL DONE!!!

In other words, you got your notions of how to interact on the internet from 4chan.

Fuck off. Go finish your 9th-grade homework or whatever you do in your free time. You obviously didn't lurk much or you would have known that people here actually interact with each other as Real Live People, not your pretend-playing make-believe-personality bullshit.

Would you like a tissue?

Also, poptwix, you don't seem to understand humor, so I'm going to assume that you're an assburger.

Yeah, because that insult was totally funny and clever.

No disclaimer is needed, you just need to lurk more and be better at...whatever it is you're trying to do.

Also, that cartoon was an insult to you? 

I was speaking towards intent rather than delivery.

I am the same way when it comes to internet vs face to face conversation. The trick is to look before you leap and don't be a prick unless it's warranted. Or funny.

Rant needs moar genuine rage that bursts out of you regardless of whether you want it to or not and less whatever that was.

Point taken.

Future posts from me with be more authentic and less poking at Your_mom's bleeding butthole.

The problem with posting on the internet, is that much is lost in text.  I am far more used to conversing person-to-person rather then via text like this, and in person I can use tone of voice and other body language and subtle vocal cues to show the spirit with which I am saying what appears to be so mean and insulting.

On the internet, however, many of the places I frequent start by generally assuming that nobody really means offense, and infer that type of vocal tonage/body language automatically.  When I read some posts here before I started posting myself, the general tone and thick skin of the members here led me to believe that this community worked like that as well, and generally assumed that nothing posted on the internet is worth being butthurt over.  If you all would prefer that I begin each of my posts with some sort of disclaimer stating clearly that I am falsely attempting to be as offensive as possible on purpose, let me know, and I'll come up with something.

I hope this explains it better.

[you]

Are you always such a pointless, banal prick to everyone? Do you have any friends?

No.  In fact, I responded to your rather useless insult towards my story with agreement and explanation.  I was a prick to the moron that posted a pointless, obvious insult towards the fact that I am new.

And honestly I don't understand why you feel insulted by it.

I would give you tips on making some, but I seem to remember this one time when I tried being nice to you and in return you were a total asshole for no apparent reason.

The way I remember it, on the first page, you came into my rant thread salty that the subject of my attack was TGRR rather then you, yourself.  It seemed rather clear you wanted me to direct attacks at you rather than Roger.  For this reason, I picked apart your post feigning offense to give you what you seemed to be so blatantly asking for.  It seems to me the problem here is that you are much more sensitive than you pretend.  I mean none of this seriously, I have no hatred or dislike for any of you, and I kind of thought I had made that much clear.

As far as I can tell you're just a dickish high-school brat with no original ideas who got their idea of how to interact on the internet off 4chan. That's the only drawback to this Discordianism gig; it attracts an endless stream of twits who think the way to impress people online is to insult them or be "outlandish".

I rant in a rant thread.  If you can't handle an angry attacking thread, by all means, click on a friendlier section instead and save yourself the emotional hardship.

Why do I waste my time with this shit?

That is a good question.

Also, if you notice, I've watered down much of the insulting tone of my posts lately, due to the large amounts of butthurt they seem to cause.  The exception being blatant insults like the one by Nephew Twiddleton which, IMO, deserve to be responded to in kind.

Are you always such a pointless, banal prick to everyone? Do you have any friends?

What do you think?  "Trix" is a Poptart boring jerk.  Who the fuck hangs out with someone like that?

Of course, because how I respond to random people on the internet is exactly how I behave in real life.

What most of you seem to be missing, no matter how often I spell it out quite clearly, is that my original posting style was based on mistaken assumptions of your ability to handle a bad attitude, and my mood at the time.  Frankly I'm getting tired of repeating this, and it's becoming clear to me that, like an evangelistic Christian, you will leap to whatever conclusions and beliefs fuel whatever assumptions you wish to make at the time.  I hope I am wrong, however.

EDITED to make it easier to read.

That story was pretty dumb.

I agree.

I think I started okay, but I couldn't figure out how to end it.  I was just in the mood to make shit up.

Your amazing detective skills have paid off, you have discovered that I am new here!  Wow, I bow to your ability to ferret out the truth.

Fuckwad.

The people swept through the town like a hurricane of rage, everyone new, everyone different, everyone thought to be even remotely capable of committing such horror was rounded up for interrogation.  All of these people, from travelers to salesmen to recluses and hermits to people that had shown even a minor amount of dislike or distaste for the victims, even the drunkard, were gathered into the center of town.  The town sheriff and his deputies started the questioning.

Hours and hours went by, the townsfolk growing impatient and more agitated by the minute.  The sheriff tried fear and intimidation, tried good cop/bad cop, tried following evidence and every other trick he had ever learned to get the killer to give them self away.  All failed.  Him and his deputies stayed up all night questioning and harassing the suspects, not letting any of them get any sleep.  The townsfolk stayed as well, all of them too angry, too outraged, too excited that finally something big was going down in this small boring little town, to leave and go home.

All of these suspects were terrified, all of them mortified, all of them confused and tired and wishing they had never come to this stinking run-down town of fools.  All save the drunkard, that is.  None of this seemed to faze the drunk.  Every time he was questioned, poked, prodded, threatened, harassed, or offered reward for information, his response was the same lewd bullshit he had been sprouting for years.  He'd point to his crotch and slur, "All of yer answers are right here, fuckstick!"

The Sheriff figured the drunk's mind was gone.  Too much alcohol over too long a time can erode even the best minds, and the Sheriff had heard from his grandfather that this drunkard had been a fool even before the drink.

As the interrogation and accusations continued, the mob of townsfolk were growing ever more impatient.  Shouts could be heard from within the crowd, accusing this man or that woman of being guilty of the deed, various people making up their minds that it HAD to be so-and-so because he'd been acting so odd lately.  The Sheriff was trying his best to maintain order, but the situation was getting worse, and he knew it was only a matter of time before he lost control of it all.  Suddenly, he remembered, who would have been in the best position to see who was going where that day, but the monk!  Yes!  The monk was always on the rooftops, with a clear view of the whole town, he might have seen what went down!   The Sheriff sent one of his deputies to find the monk and bring him, with all haste.  The deputy agreed and ran off.

Rooftop to rooftop, it took the deputy nearly an hour to locate the old monk, sitting in the lotus position on the roof of the town church.  Shaking his shoulder gently, the deputy asked the monk if he would please go see the Sheriff and answer a few questions.  The monk agreed, stood up, stretched, and walked calmly to the center of town.

The situation was getting worse, the crowd was getting loud and shouting, worried that the murderer or murderers were going to get away with it.  The Sheriff spotted the monk approaching and felt a little relief.  "Quiet people!" he shouted at the crowd, "Here comes our wise monk, the one man that might have seen who did it!"   Hearing this, the monk slowed his pace and looked around at the crowd, noticing for the first time the weapons in their hands and anger and righteousness in their faces.  He approached the Sheriff, and nodded the man to begin his questioning.  The monk had seen nothing, meditation requires closed eyes and deep focus.  But the monk had advice to give regardless, "Beware the path you are treading, the line between justice and vengeance lies not with intent, but execution."  As usual, few of the simple townsfolk understood what the old man was on about, and most rolled their eyes, less patient then usual with the monk's useless nonsense.  "Answers!" somebody shouted, "Somebody here murdered my friends and they are NOT going to get away with it!"  Shouts of agreement spread through the crowd, the excitement and anger thick and suffocating.  Another shout was heard, "My money's on that weirdo McFennin couple!  Them been keepin to themselves since they got here!  And everybody knows they needed the money, with that baby on the way and them being new here!"  The couple in question looked up in surprise, "Your a treacherous little shithead, Molly!  You're just pissy that we got that acre behind the old windmill that you were after!"

More and more shouts could be heard, until the Sheriff was heard yelling over all "CALM, people!  This isn't the dark ages!  We need to interrogate and find out who is really responsible for this and arrest them!"  Somebody shouted, "Interrogate, interrogate, you been saying that all night Sheriff, you haven't found anything or anyone you useless knob!"  Another shout was heard "Arrest them?  Those murderous freaks don't deserve to relax in a cell and eat our hard earned food, I say we rip the killers to peices!"  Suddenly a bottle was broken over someone's head, and the Sheriff pulled out his iron and fired a shot into the sky. "Enough!" he shouted, "All of you go home, you have become an out of control mob!"

The shouting and anger got worse and worse, reaching it's peak when somebody shouted "I say we take them all until whoever did it admits it!" and the rest of the mob exploded in anger.  Surging forward, the mob of townsfolk attacked the mob of suspects, and surrounded, they could only try to defend in kind.  Blows were thrown, weapons were used, the whole thing quickly dissolved into a bloody war.  Even the monk was caught in the middle, screaming things like "VIOLENCE BEGETS VIOLENCE!" before somebody finally stuck a hatchet in his head and shut him up.  Only the drunkard, sitting a little to the side sipping from a paper bag and watching the whole thing with wide eyes, only he was untouched and unnoticed by all.  After all, he was just a drunkard and a fool who nobody gave a shit about.

When it was all finally over, more then three fourths of the townsfolk, including the 'suspects', were dead.  The survivors were, to the man, heavily injured.  Many more would later die from wounds that went untreated, due to the towns three doctors all being killed in the melee.  Only the drunk was unhurt.

In the days that followed, those who were left abandoned the town, and tried their best to leave the horrible memories behind them as well.  Except the drunkard, he stayed and pillaged the houses, setting up a living space right there in the town liquor store.  Nobody ever found out who had committed the murders.

The moral of the story:
(pointing at my crotch) All of yer answers are right here, fuckstick!

- trix

In an old town located barely outside of what is widely considered civilization, the local townsfolk were very rural and old fashioned.  Things in this town rarely changed, and the advancement of technology and civilization filtered it's way there with country slowness.  The people liked the slow, lazy pace of their daily lives.  This place rarely had disasters, mishaps, and evil folk stirring things up.

In this town there was an old monk, considered by the townsfolk to be both wise and holy.  He was bald, with a huge beard and a sparse robe.  He was never seen without his robe.  He carried a long wooden walking stick, and a small cloth bag containing everything he owned, which consisted of a little food, drink, and one old book.  He was often found on the roofs of houses, sitting in the lotus position, deeply meditating.  When asked for advice or direction, his responses often seemed incoherent and difficult to understand, feeding his reputation of wisdom and enlightenment.

There was also an old drunkard, considered by most to be filthy and a fool.  He, too, was bald, with a huge beard.  He wore rags picked from the trash, and carried a plastic bag that contained mostly stale food and whatever liquor he managed to pilfer and beg for that day.  He was usually found in front of liquor stores, or pilfering junk yards, or trying to sleep in abandoned houses.  On the rare occasion this man was asked for direction, his usual response was to point to his crotch, exclaiming in a slurred voice "All of yer answers are right here, fuckstick!".

One day in this town the rarest of things happened, disaster struck!  A local family was found beaten to death, and their home pillaged of valuables and food.  The townsfolk found themselves extremely angry at this, for this family was well liked.  A manhunt was arranged, and the townsfolk got themselves all riled up and ready for blood.  Weapons were distributed, and these peaceful, simple folk found themselves armed and furious.  Some had guns, others had knives and pitchforks and spears and all manner of murderous tools.

Crap, real life interruption.  I'll finish this later.

Ok.

Have fun rolling around in the shit! 

Oh I will.  At least, as long as GIGGLES stays the fuck out of my thread.  After EOC had me look him up, I don't want that sick, demented mother fucker anywhere near my eyesight.

I think you will find that GIGGLES doesn't idly respond to reverse psychology. 

Good, because I'm not using reverse psychology.  I can happily go through the rest of the day without seeing one of those nasty disgusting eye-melting mutants that he seems to get off on.

TFY,S.

Why would I go to the trouble, when I have a thread full of mucus munchers trying so hard to do it for me?

Ok.

Have fun rolling around in the shit! 

Oh I will.  At least, as long as GIGGLES stays the fuck out of my thread.  After EOC had me look him up, I don't want that sick, demented mother fucker anywhere near my eyesight.

This is what I find kind of disappointing. You come in balls out ranting, you don't care who you're offending, blah blah. Now you're apologizing, explaining yourself, talking about what you should have done instead. Own your shit, dude. Figure it out and do it better next time.

I was in a different mood when I made the OP.  I post according to my mood.  Moods change.

Sure, when you're a flighty pothead. 

especially when I'm a flighty pothead.