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Topics - Freeky

#51
Rage Gland Backup, I has it.  Not only am I having trouble ranting, I'm having problems just working up the give-a-shit-o-meter, or writing anything.  So I'm going to try writing out the things that piss me off, without censoring myself in any way (which may mean a lot of whining and/or generalized TMI, so best to just exit now if it doesn't sound like fun to read), and I'm gonna post in this thread here. 

Last chance to ignore this thread, right here.
#52
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / A thing.
March 26, 2012, 11:20:44 PM
I sit here, being a void.  I don't know what I want to be, to have, to think of.  Hopes, dreams, plans, all seem to be destroyed in the making.  I am empty of thought and word, too tired for deed.  I picture myself with flattened, dull eyes and expressionless face.  I consume, but do not create.  I accept, but do not engage.  I absorb, I internalize, I obliterate. 
#53
Aneristic Illusions / George Clooney Arrested
March 16, 2012, 06:52:18 PM
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/03/16/george-clooney-arrested-dc-_n_1353441.html?1331910563&ncid=webmail4

QuoteGeorge Clooney and at least one congressman were arrested Friday outside of the Sudanese embassy in Washington D.C. The arrests were anticipated and part of the actor's effort to draw attention to the humanitarian crisis in Sudan.

Well, I thought that was cool, anyway.
#54
Discordian Recipes / I HAZ QUESTION
March 16, 2012, 06:37:11 PM
If you freeze scrambled eggs, do they get gross in either their consistency or taste?
#55
This fread does what it says on the label.  No cheating and searching for the text!

Feel free to post your own quotes forr us to guess!

QuoteBahahaha You are so FAR off my mark... Presumptuousness isn't becoming to you, FW. :-*

While I really hope to not be 'known' as a MILF... I happen to completely love the idea of 'men', what I was referring to above was more leveling, like as in the difference between 'human' and 'HUMAN'.

(PS if admin/mods think this should get moved out of here, please to move it.)
#56
http://www.reuters.com/article/2012/03/08/us-crime-florida-neighborhoodwatch-idUSBRE82709M20120308

Quote(Reuters) - The family of a 17-year-old African-American boy shot to death last month in his gated Florida community by a white Neighborhood Watch captain wants to see the captain arrested, the family's lawyer said on Wednesday.



Well, the kid was legally black in a gated community, so obviously the Neighborhood watch captain had no choice.
#58
Once upon a time there was this kid.  Cute little thing.  Big teeth in a big smile.  Always said what he meant, until he started lying, but that's a different story.

He felt things pretty intensely, or just never realized that he shouldn't wear his hear on his sleeve like everyone else.  Scary movies made him so frightened he would puke.  To his friends, he was just a bit too friendly, a bit too open, a bit too weird.  At home, he always had the sense that he had done something wrong, and so he became apologetic just for being being there, in the way, all the time.  His despair when someone said he wasn't their friend any longer, though definitely over-reactive, was never feigned.  His terror of new people and situations was crippling.  And oh, how he could hate.  How he could rage.  Without his paralyzing fear of reprisal, he'd have had a rather more unhealthy enjoyment of retribution, to exact in physical pain the emotional torment inflicted upon him by his peers.  If he had ever learned how to fight, he would have tried harder to catch the bastards. 

And there was his problem.  He didn't have a lot of what you might call middle gears.  He was just a bit too much for people to cope with.  It was hard for him to make friends, and that didn't help at all.  Over the years, he saw a pattern, even if he didn't quite understand it.  He would meet someone who thought he was cool, nothing special personality wise.  Then he was AWESOMESAUCE BFF.  Then he and this friend became inseperable, and it is an important note that this was on both sides, not just his, at least 50% of the time.  Then something happened that the kid wasn't ever sure of, and the other person would throw their hands up in disgust and walk away, usually to never be heard from again. 

It was a cause of great distress to him when a cycle completed itself, because he didn't know what he was doing wrong to screw everything up. 

Eventually, he became terrified of any little thing becoming the "something happened" part, and it made everything worse.

At least, it bothered him until he learned about pills.

*chompf*
#59
So the other essay I wrote didn't actually work for this assignment.  I just finished writing up and printing 27 copies of a new version, produced in full below.  I had to make some of this up from nothing, and other parts out of stuff that has happened before, because I don't have anything that WOULD work for this essay unless I did make it up. 

I felt proud enough of this that I wanted to share it with you. 

Real names removed here when used in the essay.

Adventures In Real Life

   I could hear Enabler laughing in exhilaration as Roger came to a stop.  He stuck his head out the window and yelled up at me, "I think we should be done for the day!" 

   I pulled the unlit cigar out of my mouth and shouted back, "BALLS!"  I never smoke, but there's some things you need to be "smoking" a cheap cigar while you're doing, or else what's the point?  I adjusted my grip on Roger's Bisley, and plucked at the tie-down securing the lawn chair to the now permanently dented roof of the jeep.  "You had a way longer turn.  One more go!"  I heard more laughing from inside the jeep, this time from Alty, who was sometimes from the internet but mostly from Alaska. 

   "I never thought you guys were serious about this sunroofing thing," he said. 

   "We were serious, Alty.  We're serious people," Roger said.

   "WE'RE SERIOUS ABOUT HAVING A GOOD TIME!" I shouted down.  I couldn't help it.  I speak in all capital letters when I'm excited, and there's nothing quite as exhilarating as being strapped to the roof of an old beat up jeep as it drives at about twenty miles an hour down a dirt road, shooting at signs you've supplied for that express purpose, with a revolver that is louder than that harpy Eris cackling at three dumb broads fighting over some silly apple and a war that annhialated an entire city.

   Enabler smacked the back of Roger's head - I could hear it even in the wide open desert and outside the car - and said "Yes, again!" 

   "AHH!  Woman!  Alty, do you see how these crazy womenfolk treat their holy man?"

   I grinned.  I knew I could always count on Enabler to back me up when it came to fun-having.  From the muffled laughter, I knew they had rolled up their windows again.  I made sure I was secured to the makeshift harness on top of the jeep.  I reloaded the six shooter.  I kicked the roof of the jeep as I might a steed, spurring it onward towards victory.  The jeep trundled around in the clearing at the end of the nameless dirt road I had once found while driving up Oracle out past that small town Catalina, trying to escape my worries with speed and reckless lane-changing.  When he was turned around, I took the safety was off (there's stupid and then there's suicidal, kids!) and kicked again, signalling Roger to GOGOGOGOGOOOO!   

   I whooped as he peeled out.  The first sign, "NO TRESPASSING," came up on my left, fast.  BLAMpwong!  A solid hit!  I recocked and aimed to my right, where another sign proclaiming "HIPPIES USE BACK ENTRANCE" was bearing down on me.  BLAMping!  Another hit!  The next sign, "PRIVATE PROPERTY,"  was too close, but I tried anyway. Recock     BLAM!  Missed.Recock     BLAMping!Recock     BLAM!Recock     BLAMpwow!  Not bad, as I unhooked myself from the rooftop contraption after the jeep had rolled to a stop. 

   After removing the lawn chair and various ropes from the damaged vehicle and stowing it in the back, I clambered in next to Alty.  I love his name, but I can't for the life of me pronounce it.  So I call him by his internet handle, Alty.  "Where to now?" I asked. 

   "The Grill, I'm starving," Roger responded.  The Grill is a restaurant down on Congress Street, a block or so west of the Hotel Congress.  "We'll figure out what to do next after that."  We drove off.

   The ride was long (and for the back seat riders, cramped), but was filled with talk and funny stories.  The Good Reverend Roger, my best friend and larger-than-life extraodinaire, led the conversation.  Enabler, his wife and my other best friend, was a quiet one, although not in a "I'm totally shy" or "I'm such a downer" way, more like "I'll add to this conversation when I'm good and ready, and you had best listen when I do!" way.  She's awesome like that.  Alty, the angry Alaskan biped, was listening to Roger with good natured incredulity.  I was chilling in the back seat, laughing to hear all the outrageous things Roger recounted, some of which I personally saw, like the time at the Meetrack (small dive on Drachmann, across the street from the Downtown Pima campus) when this drunk dude and his girlfriend started... Well, they were obviously having fun, I'll put it that way, on the pingpong table, while at the same time these two guys were talking about chili recipes.  Good times.

   Lunch was a loud affair, full of food and good fun.  Alty, the spirit stirring within him, began ranting about how stupid boys (the legal age kind, not the minor kind) are, and how eventually he can't even look men in the face, and then he swears off them forever, and then he gets a girlfriend and everything is going great until she leaves him to go back to Wisconsin and her family, and the whole cycle starts over again.  It was very inspiring.  Eventually, the food and the mood for ranting ran out, so we decided to walk around Fourth Avenue, and see what there was to see. 

   So there we were, walking down Fourth Ave., when what did my eyes see but another person I know;  Shayne, the compulsive liar, repeated thief, and general sociopath who had gotten with my bestie Torch, abused her, ran around on her, saddled her with a kid, and then, when she'd finally had enough and left him, refused to support their daughter or even see the little girl ever again.  All that rose in my memory and my gullet like a wave.  How I hated him.  How I despised him.  How I wished I could wipe the ever-present smirk off his stupid face.   Preferably with something sharp, like a bag of broken glass. 

   He spotted me, and came over to say hi.  Because I guess that's what you do if you see someone you know?  I was seething, enraged;  how dare he intrude on my good day?  "Hey, Freeky, long time no see!  How are you?" 

   He wasn't being particularly offensive, I thought as I grit my teeth, so I supposed that it wouldn't be polite to get hostile right away.  "I've been fine.  Torch has been doing great, too."  He looked at me blankly.  Just then I noticed a girl hovering possessively behind him.  She was skinny, technically pretty, and vapid looking.  She was also looking at me in a weird way.  Sort of judgementally. 

   I took a quick stock of myself: old, worn, ill-fitting jeans and T-shirt; a bit on the heavy side, with bad teeth that gives me that meth-mouth look; hanging out with a middle aged couple and some pale freak.  Even so, she had no right to be judging me and my friends.  Oh well, so much for polite.  "I see you have a new lady friend!  My, you do go through them, don't you?  Is this one your main squeeze or are you seeing her behind someone's back?"  I put on a look of polite curiosity.  Inside, I crowed as his face turned red and he balled his fists.  So what?  I thought.  So fucking what if he hits me?  It'll be worth it.  I recalled a line of Subgenius dogma, "Don't just eat a cheeseburger, eat the hell out of that cheeseburger!"  Well, I was certainly taking the situation to The Wall, but I was thinking to myself I think I'm about to bust through it. 

   I resisted looking around at the others.  I sensed that if I showed weakness, if I took my eyes off him for a minute, stopped daring him to punch me in the face, he really would.  He looked at Alty, looked at Roger.  Alty is a skinny dude, but he's really tall, and doesn't look like a push over.  Roger is just intimidating in every possible way, including his personality, even when he's just standing there doing nothing.  I realized that Shayne would probably walk away, and felt a measure of disappointment that I would not be trading blows with him; the only time in my life when I would have done so with anyone.  "Whatever, you stupid bitch," he said.  I tried, I really tried, but I couldn't stop the condescending laughter as it burst out of me.  He turned even more red, then said "Come on," to his girl toy as they walked away.

   The day was getting late, but I suddenly realized there was one more thing we could do before heading back home.  We could go to the shrine of the Black Madonna! 

   Our friend Nigel, who is sometimes from the internet but mostly from Portland, Oregon, had visited us two years before Alty did, and had brought her (at the time) boyfriend, who was a Tucson native.  He had made a study of the cult of the Black Madonna, and told us about this wall/shrine deal, near the Tucson Convention Center.  I don't remember what street it's on, but you go south past the TCC (on Church I think? Whichever street the courthouse is on) parallel to the highway and turn right at the four way stop sign intersection, and then you go towards the highway for two to five blocks and turn left, and you go down a short way and there's this out of place wall with candles next to a curio style gift shop.  If you get close enough to the wall to take a closer look, there's rolled up pieces of paper in there, stuck in the holes of the mortar.  Nigel's boyfriend said that they are prayers to the Black Madonna from people who think they're so damned as to be irredeemable in God's eyes.  I don't know if they are or not, I didn't look at them.  It seemed rude and intrusive,  and somehow just plain wrong.

   Well, we went there, and Alty was suitably impressed, awed, and creeped out.   He dared me to shout at the wall, any old thing would do.  It was just that kind of creepy vibe, the kind where you're not sure if what brushed against your leg was a piece of seaweed or some eldritch elder god from beyond time and space. 

   "I AINT SCURRED!"  I whisper-shouted.  I hesitated for a minute, then took a deep breath. 

"IF YOU'RE GOING TO EAT THAT CHEESEBURGER, EAT THE GODDAMNED HELL OUT OF IT!"



EDIT:
Freeky,
Not above using sex to sell.
#60
I'm writing this narrative essay, and I'm at the end.  I have two versions, and I'm not sure which is better.  At the beginning, I did similar to version 1, but I think version two looks cleaner.

Version 1:
Hai Linh, Gerty, Heisenberg and Anna tread carefully down the stairs to the next level of the dungeon.  Hai Linh was uncomfortable; it was cool and clammy, and she would have much preferred to bask in the sun, to bake until her scaly skin felt like it was glowing from all the sun it had absorbed.  She sometimes missed her homeland Xa Hoi in far off Tian, and frequently dreamed of  visiting her father's homeland Nagajor, full of warm volcanoes and her own people, the Nagaji.  People constantly mistook her for a serpentfolk, a people native to ths side of the world and apparently very vilainous.  The people she met reacted with surprise, fear, and in some cases hostility. 

Heisenberg, leading their way down and searching carefully for any traps (but not at the same time), found a tripwire.  Very thin and taught, it would have tripped the unwary, broken, and done who knows what after that.  Gerty, following him closely, had a glint in her eye that Hai Linh was coming to dread.  The blasted half-orc was feigning stupidity and incompetence again, Hai Linh was certain of it.  Nobody could live so long doing such abysmally foolish things all the time, and anyway Hai Linh had seen the barbarian use plenty of tactical ability and reasoning skills.  It had to be a sham.  Hai Linh knew what was coming as Gerty removed a torch from her pack.  Gerty didn't need light to see.  Neither did Anna and Heisenberg, they being of dwarf and half-orc persuasion respectively, and Hai Linh already had out the carcass of a glow beetle she had killed the day before.

Despite her calling of paladinhood and her beloved goddess Shelyn's teachings of tolerance and forgiveness and love for all things as well as reverance for beauty and art, Hai Linh had had enough idiocy for one day. 
(Despite not wanting to start acting like a fuckup right at the beginning of the session, I had had enough idiocy for all weekend, used up the day before when I had played with a new group, filled with players way, way worse than either myself or Ross, and a DM who doesn't know how to control a table or reward his players.)   Don't you do it, Gerty, don't you dare...  she thought to herself. (Don't you do it, Ross, don't you dare... I thought to myself.)  She placed a hand on her father's katana, ready to draw.  (I placed my hand on my d20, ready to roll.) There ought to be a law against stupidity, she thought, and any guilt she might have felt at what she knew was coming was washed away.  She would gladly pray for forgiveness later, for weeks if she had to in order to regain her deity's favor, if she could but teach this one lesson in seemingly the only way the blasted shammer pretended to know how to learn.
 
Gerty threw the torch at the wire.  Hai Linh struck out with her blade, quicker than thought.

Luckily, they both missed.[/font]

Version 2:
Hai Linh, Gerty, Heisenberg and Anna tread carefully down the stairs to the next level of the dungeon.  Hai Linh was uncomfortable; it was cool and clammy, and she would have much preferred to bask in the sun, to bake until her scaly skin felt like it was glowing from all the sun it had absorbed.  She sometimes missed her homeland Xa Hoi in far off Tian, and frequently dreamed of  visiting her father's homeland Nagajor, full of warm volcanoes and her own people, the Nagaji.  People constantly mistook her for a serpentfolk, a people native to ths side of the world and apparently very vilainous.  The people she met reacted with surprise, fear, and in some cases hostility.

Heisenberg, leading their way down and searching carefully for any traps (but not at the same time), found a tripwire.  Very thin and taught, it would have tripped the unwary, broken, and done who knows what after that.  Gerty, following him closely, had a glint in her eye that Hai Linh was coming to dread.  The blasted half-orc was feigning stupidity and incompetence again, Hai Linh was certain of it.  Nobody could live so long doing such abysmally foolish things all the time, and anyway Hai Linh had seen the barbarian use plenty of tactical ability and reasoning skills.  It had to be a sham.  Hai Linh knew what was coming as Gerty removed a torch from her pack.  Gerty didn't need light to see.  Neither did Anna and Heisenberg, they being of dwarf and half-orc persuasion respectively, and Hai Linh already had out the carcass of a glow beetle she had killed the day before.

Despite her calling of paladinhood and her beloved goddess Shelyn's teachings of tolerance and forgiveness and love for all things as well as reverance for beauty and art, Hai Linh had had enough idiocy for one day. Don't you do it, Gerty, don't you dare...  she thought to herself.  She placed a hand on her father's katana, ready to draw.  There ought to be a law against stupidity, she thought, and any guilt she might have felt at what she knew was coming was washed away.  She would gladly pray for forgiveness later, for weeks if she had to in order to regain her deity's favor, if she could but teach this one lesson in seemingly the only way the blasted shammer pretended to know how to learn.
 
Gerty threw the torch at the wire.  Hai Linh struck out with her blade, quicker than thought.

Luckily, they both missed.
#61
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Sv6dMFF_yts

The above situation looks so damn familiar to me, but I can't put my finger on it! 

I'd say it was that time that guy (name started with an R?) kept talking politics at the Meetrack and made that old guy with the awesome stories about Tombstone left, whereupon he did get set upon, but that was only like, two or three or five guys, not the whole bar.

And then I want to say it was the time at the Bashful Bandit where the band played some good music, but there are too many hipsters in the video.

It might have reminded me about that time at the Venture Inn, one of the few times we went, when Maria just up and started shit, before Nivek turned into a tool, but there were more geriatric gay dudes there.

Jesus, this is going to be bugging me all day.
#62
Discordian Recipes / I guess Paula Deen is a diabetic.
January 24, 2012, 01:46:16 PM
http://www.nypost.com/p/pagesix/deen_rep_out_of_the_kitchen_iNDvkrg7yWBUgTUqRbyZhM

And now that she's got a deal with some drug company, she's okay with people knowing about it.  Her PR lady quit because of the deal.

The end.
#64
Back in the 2nd grade, up through the 6th grade, I used to play trombone.  I wanted to get back into playing music again, for fun and to help with maff learning.  I have lost a lot of what I used to know, but I don't think it'll be too hard to pick it back up, unless I'm vastly underestimating what I don't know about music.

So, in essence, this thread is basically me asking "Um.  What?" 

If you music spags wouldn't mind letting me know what is important, that would be totally sweet.
#65
Discordian Recipes / Fail Wednesday Soup
January 16, 2012, 01:57:47 AM
First, on grocery shopping day, decide to make tripe madrid style and filipino turmeric-scented pork stew.

Get everything over the space of three days, substituting salt pork for pigs' feet and turkey ham for regular ham and leaving the dry white wine out altogether.

Two days later, after having gotten a reliable opinion on the tripe, begin your attempt at making the tripe dish, only without the tripe.  Since is narsty, toss it.  Get chorizo out of fridge, look for salt pork.  Realize it was sitting on the table for two days, hidden in a bag of non refridgerables.  Throw salt pork away.  Well then.  Good thing we still have a pork shoulder for the filipino soup, right? 

Cut open pork shoulder bag, observe that the "juices" have turned into jelly.  Note that it exudes a smell of rancid chicken.  Throw pork shoulder away.  Become angry and frustrated.  Decide to inflict your shitty day on everyone else, culinarily.

Break up and brown chorizo.  Don't mind if it burns a tiny bit, until the smoke is too much.  Season with stuff, throw in a big pot.  Set aside. 

Cube turkey ham, throw in pan with some butter. While it browns, brood.  Chop the onion up into pieces, the sizes varying from 1/2 and inch on a side to three inches on a side.  Slice your finger open.  Fuck it, you don't care anymore.  After the ham is done, throw that in the big pot and throw the onion into the pan with some butter.

Grind up some pink peppercorns and a handful of cloves.  Dump half of that into the big pot, along with a tablespoon or so of turmeric.  Dump a third of a bottle of thai garlic chili paste into the pot.  Dump in a quarter a small bottle of fish sauce (probably 1/4 cup) into the pot as well.  Try not to think about the fact that just about everyone you know who's in a happy, loving, functional relationship met each other when they were younger than you.  Fail at this.  Dump more garlic chili paste into the pot, for a total of two thirds of teh bottle, perhaps six ounces, and also probably ten ounces of rice wine.  Zest four limes, throw that in.

Peel some boiler onions.  Try not to think about your teeth's aching, which is all the way down your neck to your shoulder.  Fail at this.  When the onions that were chopped are finally brown and crunchy, throw them in the big pot.  sautee boiler onions in butter.  Throw them in the big pot.  cover all of this with water.  As an afterthought, add some orange juice.  Too late, realize that with the fish sauce in there, the orange juice may have been a bad idea.  Fuck it, too late now.

Bring to a boil, cover, simmer for one hour.  Taste and find out that because you aren't used to food this spicy, you can't taste it at all, though everyone else will rave about it.

Serve hot or cold, I don't care which, and feel dead inside for days afterward. 
#66
Discordian Recipes / ATTN ECH
January 07, 2012, 05:59:51 PM
WAIR DID THE ROCKSTAR SHAKE THREAD GO I CANNOT FIND.
#67
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / Karate Kyle
January 06, 2012, 06:46:05 AM
#68
RPG Ghetto / On space, reach, and threatened squares.
December 28, 2011, 08:00:18 PM
So I'm sitting here trying to do up a dungeon, and I think to myself, "I don't remember looking at a fast and hard rule for space, reach, and threatened squares."

I go looking through the Core Rulebook, and also GameMastery Guide, and even the Bestiary, but I don't find anything related, other than reach weapons.

I find this:

www.d20pfsrd.com/gamemastering/combat/space-reach-threatened-area-templates



Which doesn't line up with what we've been doing (1x1 is medium, 1x2 or 2x1 is large, 2x2 is huge, etc.) 

And then I'm like (regarding the way we do it at home), Wait, If 15 feet = 10x10 box, how does that even work? 

I am confused, and would like to not be.

Also, Medium and Large as per how we do it works in my head just fine, it's the Huge creatures that stump me.
#69
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / HELLO? HELP DESK?!
December 26, 2011, 04:22:33 AM
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lJrqxW-1vvw

I JUST FOUND THIS IN MY INTERNET!  I WANT A FULL REFUND RIGHT NOW!
#70
Today, I saw six cop cars sitting outside the back alley of this townhouse complex, and another one heading in as I left the neighborhood (which is the one right next to my parents', and generally considered a pretty good one, for being in the Hive.)

Today, my grandmother confided to me that she thought my cousin was "weird," her tone implying that this is a serious badwrong condition, because he gave his younger brother a pair of pants that really could fit them both and my next youngest cousin in all at once.  I even said "There's nothing wrong with being weird."  Her response was "Yes there is!" and when I confessed to being weird, she said if I said that again she'd spank me.  

(I know it's a bit early, but it felt like Christmas to me because family stuff happens on Christmas Eve for my fam.  Immediate fam stuff happens on Chirstmas.  I will probably have more to say tomorrow.)

Now you share your wtf chrsmas?  events. 
#71
http://www.arizona.edu/features/chomsky-connection

There's a public lecture, and I think I may go. 
#73
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / HEY ROGER
November 18, 2011, 06:52:08 AM
I bet Clint Eastwood has a parang.
#74
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / HAY ROGAR
November 14, 2011, 09:39:37 PM
I DONT KNOW WHAT I JUST WATCHED BUT I HAVE TO SHARE IT WITH YOU.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=fvwp&NR=1&v=qUQteDHSVMI
#75
Discordian Recipes / Chicken (Djej?) Muhammara
November 12, 2011, 12:54:55 AM
1 red onion, for pretty and because you don't have enough
boiling onions (about a pound, or 18 ounces if you don't want a red onion)
3 pounds potatoes
3 pounds of chicken tenderloins
3 cups of tomato juice
3 cups chicken or vegetable broth (stock if you got it, I didn't)
1/2 - 2/3 cup molasses
1/4 - 1/2 cup blueberry pomegranate juice (or 2/3 cup of pomegranate molasses)
1/2 cup thai chili garlic paste
SOME:
paprika
salt
pepper
ginger
cinnamon
fenugreek
cocoa chili powder

Peel and cut up potatoes, and leave in a bowl of water.  Boil some water and dump over onions (red onion gets peeled and cut before, boilers do not) and let sit for like five minutes.  Peel the boilers but don't cut, and save the onion water to make broth if you have the instant broth stuff. 

Heat some oil or fat in a pan and brown onions on all sides.  You'd better do this in a big pot.  Push to the back of the stove when that's done, and heat up some more oil or fat in a skillet and brown chicken on both sides, and stick them in with the onions. 

Add everything else to the pot and boil or simmer for a while.  Probably in the area of 30 minutes, and do it covered.  Unvoer and let sauce reduce, and ten season to taste and CONSUME.
#76
GOD FUCKING DAMN STUPID PEOPLE.

So, so, we were discussing the mechanics of how to make arguments (scholarly ones, not the good kind where everyone feels all misunderstood and flounces "forever") in my critical reading class, and the teacher brought up the point that one of her other students had brought up in another class.  The subject matter was "interpretation" kind of argument, and this guy (or girl, I don't know) says to the teacher, he says "How do you define an illegal immigrant?  Because, you know, the native Americans are all like 'we live on the world, there aren't REALLY any boundaries, these politics things are just arbitrary and meaningless, and personal property is meaningless, so how do you define illegal immigrants?" 


Just let that thought soak in a minute.



And the teacher thought that tripe was worth repeating.




And I had to listen to her say it.



WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT, WORLD.  WHAT THE FUCKING SHIT.

Okay, first of all, any culture who thought that is going to be promptly destroyed by their neighbors, who more than likely are like "Hey, these assholes are the wrong tribe, let's go kill them all!"  Secondly, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?  WHAT IS THIS TRIPE THAT GOT DRIBBLED IN MY EAR HOLE?  If you're going to go "What is an illegal?"  at least have the goddamn intellectual decency to go with "We're ALL immigrants!"  for fucks sake! 

And the whole "Personal property means nothing" bit?  Are you goddamn kidding me??  Get the hell off my planet and stay away from my shit, because I'll be damned if that doesn't just sound like a good excuse to take what isn't the fuck yours and you can claim that ownership is meaningless while at the same time being a fucking thief! 

Oh goddamn it, get off my planet you jackass retards, get off my fucking planet get off get off GET OFF MY PLANET.

I'm so fucking pissed off about this, I can't even form half of the things I found offensive about this statement.  Goddamn it.
#77
I'll start with a one of mine, for Magus (Pathfinder, Ultimate Magic).

Requirements:  Bladebound archetype, Pool Strike arcana, shocking grasp or similar.
Minimum level: 5th Magus (by taking the Extra Arcana feat);  When this combo peaks:  10th Magus (with extra hilarity if you take a level of Rogue and Weapon Specialization somewhere along the line)
Abilities used:  Arcane Pool (burning an arcane pool point to charge the magic up), Black Blade Strike, Pool Strike, Spellstrike

Burn a point of arcane pool (swift action) to boost your weapon's enhancement bonus (at 10th, +3 is added and stacks with your weapon's natural enhancement bonus, which is +3).  Burn a point of you blade's arcane pool as a free action to do more damage (at tenth, +3).  Use your standard action to burn another arcane pool point to charge your Pool Strike, and take one last free action to attack, combining your Pool and Spellstrike abilities.  Don't forget you can do all this (except the actual attack) while moving.

Let's say I'm a Magus 10/Rogue 1.  My normal chance to hit is +13/8, I'm wielding a bastard sword, a Str of 16 (and wielding with two hands), have Weapon Spec, and I have a flank going. I missed with shocking grasp last round, too(or just waited for a better position), so that is still going.  On my round, I burn a black blade point and two arcane pool points and make a single attack. A hit!  I just did 1d10 + 1d6 sneak + 5d6 electrical + 4d6 Pool Strike + 12 damage.  CAN YOU DO THAT FIGHTER?  OR YOU, WIZARD?  I THINK FUCKING NOT.  SUCK MY DICK, YOU UNCOMPLICATED BASTARDS.  YOU'D HAVE TO TEAM UP TO TOP THE DAMAGE I'M DOING.  WHAT.  I would fucking either of those bastards in single combat.  
I exaggerate, of course.  I probably couldn't take out the fighter alone, if he min/maxed his feats for damage.  The wizard'd be dead, though, for sure.
#78
Discordian Recipes / Freeky's pimping guacamole dip
October 14, 2011, 08:21:48 PM
8 avacados
3/4 pound of bacon covered in pepper
1/4 cup lemon juice
1/2 - 2/3 elephant garlic bulb
1-2 tsp liquid smoke
1/2 cup those little orange tomatoes
salt
paprika
less than 1/4 cup sun dried tomatoes (jarred in oil)

cook the bacon until it is very crispy, adding in the liquid smoke in 1/2 tsp increments per batch, and will shatter when it's cooled off.  While the bacon cooks, peel and deseed the avocados and stick them in a big bowl and mash them up.  Beat that shit like some benjies went missing and the ho ain't talking.

Mince the garlic, add the lemon juice and salt (however much you want, I suggest not more than 2 TBSP) and set aside for an hour and some.  Break up the bacon into tiny bits and mix into your bitch mash.

Mix in the garlic after it sits.  Dice the tiny tomatoes and add them, too, and also the sun-dreid tomatoes.  That bitch mash stole those benjies and spent them on liquor, better have your boys teach her a lesson (mix up the stuff really well, mashing it up if necessary).  

Eat it on stuff.

Edited for missing step and ingredient.
#79
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / Dear PD,
October 04, 2011, 06:19:48 PM
You're probably going to think that this is very forward of me.  I mean, I haven't met any of you for real, but what I'm going to tell you is true, and that true thing is I love you. 

You're so great.  You're brilliant, funny, crazy and awesome.  Every single one of you.  Even when you're being assholes I love you, because you're being you (if that's your thing, anyway, and even if it isn't then whatever).

Even the people I hate here, I love.  See, hate to me is just love that's been poisoned by fear or anger.  And if I think I hate you, it only means that at some point I loved you, and might still love you because I feel the need to spend time and energy thinking about you (as full of bile as this activity might be).  The biggest insult I could give you is complete indifference and scorn, but that's just who I am.

And if you think I'll be changing my mind about this any time soon, you'd be wrong.  Any love is forever with me, and you're more likely to lose interest in me even as just a friend before I stop being so crazy for you. 

I don't mean to say I want you to reciprocate, I just want you to know, you know?  I think you are all, individually, amazing and wonderful in your own ways.  And that'll be true until the end of forever, even if you get gone.

Unless you betray me in some fashion, in which case I'll rip you into tiny pieces and paint the walls, ceiling, floor, and/or nearby surrounding area with your blood.

Hugs and destruction,
Freeky

:kiss:
#80
Meet Gustave, a Nile croc estimated to be 60 years old, 20 feet long, and having an alleged body count of over three hundred people.

Here's a National Geographic article about going on a hunt to measure and tag Gustave:
http://adventure.nationalgeographic.com/2005/03/gustave-crocodile/michael-mcrae-text

And this list is neat:
http://www.cracked.com/article_18483_the-5-creepiest-serial-killers-who-were-animals_p2.html
#81
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / WATCH THIS SPACE!
September 27, 2011, 05:50:24 PM
Because it'll do you SO much good. :lulz:




BAM FUCKERS.  BAM I SAY!
#82
I went to the top of that hill like I said I was gonna, Nigel.  I shouldn't have, really, because I didn't expect to see what was there. 

When I left the house that morning, I wanted to go to a wild place where I could just disappear.  I wanted to see long stretches of road, framed by green doom.  What I wanted to find was a dirt turn off leading away from the city part of The City, to get a better head start on anyone finding me. 

What I wanted was for to hear the siren call.  But I didn't.  I didn't hear it.

What I found was seven churches in a five mile stretch.  What I saw was a tiny town boasting of ten dingy bars (not the good kind, either), a cut-price outlet store, and a place that sells those speeder boats that you see on bigger lakes.  Where I went was just another shit-hole with no way out.  And I couldn't find the real road, the one that leads to nowhere, the vehicular equivalent of taking your shoes off and walking into the ocean.

I know that there are those kinds of exits, and the all lead to the same road.  But Tucson didn't let me find one.  It isn't done with me yet. 

I wish it were.
#83
There are two parts of language that define how a word is used.  They are called "denotation" and "connotation."  Denotation is the dictionary definition of a word, and that is important.  But while all definitions fit the same set of circumstances (used properly), the words that are attached to them do not.  This we call "connotation" and it, well, it doesn't MANDATE or anything, but it is basically the emotional context of words and how they are generally agreed are used.  That is today's word of the day.

Connotations are extremely important.  They give life to what you want to say.  They are the nuance to what would otherwise be an emotionless robot exchange.  They play a major role in how your words are received.  If you find that people are shoving words in your mouth, or are taking things too far out of proportion to what you were trying to say, you probably made a mistake by going with a strict definition usage, instead of using a word that would be more appropriate with a different connotation. 

There is no situation where connotation isn't used and relied on to get your point across.  There are no possible conversations where you can go just by dictionary rules and definitions.  Absolutely no ideas can be exchanged between two or more thinking, rational human beings if the, the etiquette of speech is ignored.  If you're asking me "Why is that?  That sounds pretty stupid," then I will answer you with an ages old rule;  What you say is not as important as how you say it.  Communication only happens when the people involved agree on what the words mean.  If you decide you like what the definition is but ignore the connotation, well then you're asking for a world of misunderstandings and ridicule, so smarten up.

Now go have a conversation and for fuck's sake, stop beating up my language.

Hugs and destruction,
Freeky.
#84
5.5 lbs bone in, skin on chicken thighs.
paprika (1 tsp smoked, 1 tsp sweet, 3 tsp fresh)
4 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
1 tsp pepper
1 tsp ginger

3 onions (I used two red and one sweet)
more than two pounds of carrots (two just isn't enough)
minced garlic, 2-3 TBSP

1 cup bacon grease (or however much, 1/2 cup per pan or so)

6 limes (1/2 cup squeezed, one to also use for zest)
1/4 cup honey
1/2 cup pineapple juice
1/4 cup Thai garlic pepper sauce

Slice onion however you want, as long as they are no more than 1/4 inch thick strips.  Peel carrots and cut diagonalwise.

Mix the seasonings in a small dish.  Pat dry the chicken with a paper towel.  Rub seasoning mix into the skin of the chicken, and the bottom side if you want.  Heat the grease in two pans.  It may be necessary to do more than one batch, even with two skillets.  Brown both sides and move to a plate.  Dump out a bit of the grease in the pan so you have about a 1/4 cup, then throw in your carrots and onions. Cook until the onions start going brown and soft, about 7 minutes.  Throw in your minced garlic, and cook for another minute.

Nestle your chicken into the veggies and simmer for 25-30 minutes, or until chicken is done.

For sauce, take your lime juice and zest, honey, and pineapple juice and mix it up.  Dump the pepper sauce in equal amounts over however many pans you ended up using.  Pour the lime honey over that and simmer.  This step should probably happen about five to ten minutes before everything is done.

Serve with sticky rice and nosh on that shit until you get sick.  Then keep going because it's just so good.
#85
Today I found out that a certain someone that we all know is quitting his job.  I can't fucking BELIEVE this guy.  He's got so many people depending on him, most of them kids, and he's just blowing them off.  Why? I asked him.  Why are you doing this?  He tells me, he says, "It's just too stressful.  I can't deal with it anymore."

I ask him, dude, what do you even DO all day?  What's so damn stressful that you can't deal with your job?  He shrugs at me.  I tell him I think he's just looking for an excuse to be a lazy bum, which he denies instantly.

I ask him, what about your kids, man?  What about all your kids who NEED you?  He says to me, "They're going to have to do without.  Lots of people do, they're going to have to start sometime, too."

I say, Christ, it's not like you don't get time off.  Why don't you just take a trip to somewhere?  Obviously in this economy it wouldn't be very far, but a day trip would be doable and be relaxing at the same time.  Take your woman with you, leave the kids at home, have a nice day, or even two.  But don't QUIT.  And he says to me, "It's none of your business."

I never thought I'd say this, guys, but I have a little less than four months' time to change his mind, and I need your help.

It's up to us to save Christmas.
#86
I feel so betrayed that Stephen Colbert is in on this too.  How many layers have to get ripped away before the bottom happens?  When do I get to meet Curly?

When, in other words, will I reach the point of "I just can't care any more"?
#88
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / ROGER
August 09, 2011, 12:03:16 AM
STOP FREAKING OUT, OKAY?

I HAVE THE BAGELS.  YOU CAN STOP PUNTING THE NEIGHBOR'S DOG OFF THE BALCONY AND RE-REELING HIM BACK IN WITH FISHING LINE AND POLE. 

HE'S GONNA BE MAKING A COMPLAINT, NEXT THING YOU KNOW.
#89
I HAVE DECIDED WHAT MY DEMANDS ARE.  I REQUIRE YOUTUBE HILARITY.  SONGS AND THE LIKE.  NOTHING THAT RELIES ON VISUAL AID.

IF MY DEMANDS ARE MET, A REWARD WILL BE GIVEN TO THE BOARD.

IF NOT, WELL, ASK SUSAN WHAT WILL HAPPEN.
#90
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / ATTN CAINAD
July 26, 2011, 03:16:18 AM
HABBY BIRFDAY
#91





Yeah, you WISH you weren't going to find out what's between you and the door.
#92
3 cups chicken thigh strips (might have been closer to 2 cups)
ground coriander, 1/2 TBSP
smoked paprika, 1 1/2 TBSP
ground ginger, 2 TBSP
fresh ground pink peppercorns, 2 tsp
fresh ground black pepper, 2 tsp
garam masala, 1 1/2 TBSP
ground cardamom, 1/2 TBSP
2 dried ghost chili peppers, chopped and with seeds still in
1/4 cup max white wine vinegar
4 cups frozen vegetables
1/2 stick butter, cold

Combine vinegar, spices and chicken in a bowl.  Seal or cover and let sit (in fridge, probably) for 30 minutes. 

Melt butter in a pre-heated pan. Add chicken and saute until almost cooked through.  Add frozen vegetables and cook COVERED until chicken is done and vegetables are hot.

CONSUME WITH EXTREME CAUTION OR UTTER ABANDON.  NO HALVSIES!
#93
OHGADVINDALOOIS THIS HOT
#94
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone / ATTN PAYNE
July 21, 2011, 06:47:55 AM
I KNOW WHAT IT TAKES TO MAKE THINGS WORSE.  IF MY DEMANDS ARE NOT MET, I KNOW HOW TO PUT A NIGGER IN A HEARSE.


AND THEN YOU'LL WISH YOU WERE ON CRACK.


Freeky,
Fuck sleep.
#95
http://www.buzzfeed.com/mjs538/the-ultimate-collection-of-stupid-michele-bachmann  Repost, I know, but it feeds my point.


Where does the stupid end?  I'll tell you where, NOWHERE.  That's where.  It's like some big practical joke, yanno?  Fucking idiots are vying for the throne, as rickety as it may be, and this sort of stupidity is being allowed to run rampant, is even encouraged at all levels of society!  I keep waiting for the "HA HA FOOLED YOU" but oh my god this is a terrifying thought I don't think it's going to come.  IT NEVER ENDS.

And then, there's you and me.  We're brighter than them, we know it, and it isn't just accumulated knowledge so shut that trap right now.  Do you really think that I'm going to sit here and let anyone tell me these people are as good as I am?  Well apparently so, because BREAKING NEWS:  MORONS RUN THE WORLD, AND I DON'T WANT TO. 

So what is it that they have, other than those pieces of green linen paper?  A way in.  That's what they have.  They all have these insane ways in, and it's like they pass them down to the next dope who wants on the inside.  You and me, oh yeah, we're on the outside.  But the ways in can't be completely guarded all the time, can't cant CANT be all accounted for.  I donno about you, but I need one.  I WANT one.  I will find one.  I'll get in, and then the great equalizing will begin.

Money will change hands, rumors will spread, dirty laundry will be aired.  Screams in the night will be stifled.  Blood will be spilled!  BONES FOR THE BONE THRONE, LET'S TAKE THIS BITCH TO THE WALL!  A way known is a way that can be shared among equals, and you are my equal, for certainly.  The smallest crack can be the breaking point for a tidal wave.  What do you want in for?  What the fuck do I care?  You're in, same as me!

I see:  A highway full of silent and still cars.  I see "Line forms here" signs dusty,  plastic numbers dark and broken.  I see supermarkets full of wares, but lacking shelving and defenders of the hoard ready to kill strangers in their place.  I see secret knowledge - math, science, history, written and spoken languages, ideas, critical thinking skills - I see these passed on in dark, private holes the damned will call home.  There will be whispers of survivors, just over the next hill, but no corroboration, nor any spine to see the other side of that hill.

And...Hm?  Oh.  After I finish getting my degree in electrical work, and have more stability, I guess.  Oh, fuck it.  Wanna get a coffee?
#96
can I get a professional opinion?


Earlier today, I was sitting around other members of my math class during a short break, and they were all talking about how China is going to be ruling the world within 50 years.  Ignoring the fact we'll probably all be extinct by then, what's the plausibility of this?

I apologize if you've talked about it before and I didn't know about it. I tend to steer clear of politic threads, they're as depressing as the ones about the state of the natural world.
#97
Considering how things ended. :cry:


#99
Discordian Recipes / UNLIMITED POWAH FRUIT GOO
June 29, 2011, 11:46:02 PM
16 ounces fresh raspberries
1 pound ripe red plums
1 cup sugar
water
1/3 cup petron orange liqueur
more sugar
2 to 3 tablespoons honey

Chop up the raspberries, peel and dice plums, and place in medium pot.  Add one cup of sugar.  Add enough water to just cover everything.  Bring to a boil stirring frequently.  Realize that recipe is too sweet.  Add orange liqueur, realize you have too much liquid, add some more sugar.  Notice the honey that's been on the counter for a while.  Add to pot while laughing at the certainty that this is going to be a horrible mistake.  Slow boil everything, stirring frequently.  Eventually take it off the heat and put it in a jar, or a couple of jars.
#100
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2011/06/28/14th-amendment-debt-ceiling-unconstitutional-democrats_n_886442.html

QuoteWASHINGTON -- Growing increasingly pessimistic about the prospects for a deal that would raise the debt ceiling, Democratic senators are revisiting a solution to the crisis that rests on a simple proposition: The debt ceiling itself is unconstitutional.

"The validity of the public debt of the United States, authorized by law... shall not be questioned," reads the 14th Amendment.

"This is an issue that's been raised in some private debate between senators as to whether in fact we can default, or whether that provision of the Constitution can be held up as preventing default," Sen. Chris Coons (D-Del.), an attorney, told The Huffington Post Tuesday. "I don't think, as of a couple weeks ago, when this was first raised, it was seen as a pressing option. But I'll tell you that it's going to get a pretty strong second look as a way of saying, 'Is there some way to save us from ourselves?'"

By declaring the debt ceiling unconstitutional, the White House could continue to meet its financial obligations, leaving Tea Party-backed Republicans in the difficult position of arguing against the plain wording of the Constitution. Bipartisan negotiators are debating the size of the cuts, now in the trillions, that will come along with raising the debt ceiling.