Abstruse RPG Battle System

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powerburial:

youwanttthed:

powerburial:

cool college guy recipe:

  • hot dog on pizza

what you will need:

  • hotdog
  • pizza
  • oven

ingredients:

  1. 1hotdog
  2. preheat oven
  3. hotdog on pizza
  4. pizza in oven
  5. microwave timer set to 20 minutes, smoke a bowl and toss the  pigskin cuz thats what cool college guys do t hese days they are jock/stoner hybrids
  6. 6 ding fries are done hot dog pizza

Do you do weddings

i do whatever the hell i waint

faultyschematic:

boiledleather:

solarsenpai:

siopold:

miracleyangwenli:

siopold:

the funny thing about dril posts is that they actually do have a structure to them– they hit a kind of conceptual caesura halfway through, a point where there’s no inevitable logical connection between what’s been said and what’s still to come. here, the first sentence didn’t need to result in the second, yet it’s not “lol random” either; the speaker is angry about his boss’ draconian ferret-kissing policy, and reacts in kind, and even the reference to a “screen saver” reminds us that we’re in an office. it’s a narrative progression that, despite having an internal logic, alienates its punchline from its setup. who the hell is this person?

one thing i love about @dril posts is how they all seem to take place in a universe that is somewhat like our own, but with the habitus of white middle america taken to a bizarre, absurd, but strangely logical conclusion. take this one, for instance: 

so we have our setting: a security guard protecting the american flag in the betsy ross museum, something almost archetypically american and middle class. but once again the first part, or setup, for the punchline, “fucking the flag,” careens the joke into an alien punchline that still, given the setting, makes sense. @dril’s security guard character imitates a sort-of cop-talk, the banter of a security guard, “buddy, they wont even let me fuck it”. you can imagine a similar response from a guard at any museum, but we’re talking about Fucking the American Flag, here. i really love @dril. 

it’s astonishing that a human being thinks of those posts. some person, someone out there whose existence we have to infer, because all we know is that those posts occur and they must be coming from somewhere. “the @dril tweeter” resonates as “the beowulf poet” does, except beowulf (which i’ve only read in translation, so i’m not an authority) has never made any use of the english language as baffling and sublime and somehow primally interlaced with the stuff of human consciousness as “IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL.”

This is my favorite post, I am so glad I found it again.

I subscribe to the theory that the @dril account has recently changed hands, and that New Dril currently being written by someone with only a superficial understanding of what makes @dril tweets great. This post explains the real deal very well. For me, personally, Old Dril is like Monty Python and Tim & Eric — someone who pioneered a new way for things to be funny.

To bounce off the Beowulf comparison (which is oddly apt), there are several instances of surreality or an alien feeling to the kennings contained: “sword-water” for blood, “under wide earth” meaning dead; implications in the language itself that depends on context: what swords are and what they do (and that they shed blood so often there is little other reason to bleed), that when people die, they are buried. @dril achieves such linguistic microcosms themselves, with less brevity, but often more revelation into whatever world “@dril” inhabits. It’s astonishing, really.
And fucking hilarious.

faultyschematic:

boiledleather:

solarsenpai:

siopold:

miracleyangwenli:

siopold:

the funny thing about dril posts is that they actually do have a structure to them– they hit a kind of conceptual caesura halfway through, a point where there’s no inevitable logical connection between what’s been said and what’s still to come. here, the first sentence didn’t need to result in the second, yet it’s not “lol random” either; the speaker is angry about his boss’ draconian ferret-kissing policy, and reacts in kind, and even the reference to a “screen saver” reminds us that we’re in an office. it’s a narrative progression that, despite having an internal logic, alienates its punchline from its setup. who the hell is this person?

one thing i love about @dril posts is how they all seem to take place in a universe that is somewhat like our own, but with the habitus of white middle america taken to a bizarre, absurd, but strangely logical conclusion. take this one, for instance: 

so we have our setting: a security guard protecting the american flag in the betsy ross museum, something almost archetypically american and middle class. but once again the first part, or setup, for the punchline, “fucking the flag,” careens the joke into an alien punchline that still, given the setting, makes sense. @dril’s security guard character imitates a sort-of cop-talk, the banter of a security guard, “buddy, they wont even let me fuck it”. you can imagine a similar response from a guard at any museum, but we’re talking about Fucking the American Flag, here. 

i really love @dril. 

it’s astonishing that a human being thinks of those posts. some person, someone out there whose existence we have to infer, because all we know is that those posts occur and they must be coming from somewhere. “the @dril tweeter” resonates as “the beowulf poet” does, except beowulf (which i’ve only read in translation, so i’m not an authority) has never made any use of the english language as baffling and sublime and somehow primally interlaced with the stuff of human consciousness as “IF THE ZOO BANS ME FOR HOLLERING AT THE ANIMALS I WILL FACE GOD AND WALK BACKWARDS INTO HELL.”

This is my favorite post, I am so glad I found it again.

I subscribe to the theory that the @dril account has recently changed hands, and that New Dril currently being written by someone with only a superficial understanding of what makes @dril tweets great. This post explains the real deal very well. For me, personally, Old Dril is like Monty Python and Tim & Eric — someone who pioneered a new way for things to be funny.

To bounce off the Beowulf comparison (which is oddly apt), there are several instances of surreality or an alien feeling to the kennings contained: “sword-water” for blood, “under wide earth” meaning dead; implications in the language itself that depends on context: what swords are and what they do (and that they shed blood so often there is little other reason to bleed), that when people die, they are buried. @dril achieves such linguistic microcosms themselves, with less brevity, but often more revelation into whatever world “@dril” inhabits. It’s astonishing, really.

And fucking hilarious.

wayneradiotv:

im your friend behind the wall. come, i’ll show you the end of the earth

wayneradiotv:

im your friend behind the wall. come, i’ll show you the end of the earth

erarg:

He has escaped from his prison. It is too late to stop him. He will be the harbinger of destruction bringing upon a new age of darkness.

yadyhinafun:

Beautiful | via Tumblr su We Heart It.

yadyhinafun:

Beautiful | via Tumblr su We Heart It.

betterbooktitles:

Halloween reads on Better Book Titles!

Follow @DanWilbur on Twitter

saltwaterandink:

quicksandbuddy:

Egyptian mythology is best mythology

ISIS
NO

saltwaterandink:

quicksandbuddy:

Egyptian mythology is best mythology

ISIS

NO

(Source: lunacswitchyblog)

Oct 9

nevver:

Kissed to Death (an ink eraser is a knife-like tool, like a letter opener)

Oct 4

melkior:

send hELP

Oh! That’s Stan from the Googleplex, and he was definitely being harassed by flamingos when I saw him.

Oct 4
animalssittingoncapybaras:

It wasn’t evolutionary mutualism that had bought them together, the squirrel monkey quickly realised.
No, their paths do not cross in the wild. The squirrel monkey does not drop from the trees to the river bank. It cleans the fur of other squirrel monkeys - its clan - its loved ones.
Was it the torment of other monkeys? Was it the interminable tension of that small enclosure that had formed their bond? Could it really be reduced to security and brute strength?
No. No, it was simply… the feeling of ease they felt together. He wondered for a moment if they would have recognised it in the wild. Outside of the enclosure. On the river bank. In the trees. Would they even have met? It didn’t matter. The comfort of warm, layered fur, and the peace of small gentle paws. It was the only explanation they needed.
animalssittingoncapybaras.tumblr.com/

animalssittingoncapybaras:

It wasn’t evolutionary mutualism that had bought them together, the squirrel monkey quickly realised.

No, their paths do not cross in the wild. The squirrel monkey does not drop from the trees to the river bank. It cleans the fur of other squirrel monkeys - its clan - its loved ones.

Was it the torment of other monkeys? Was it the interminable tension of that small enclosure that had formed their bond? Could it really be reduced to security and brute strength?

No. No, it was simply… the feeling of ease they felt together. He wondered for a moment if they would have recognised it in the wild. Outside of the enclosure. On the river bank. In the trees. Would they even have met? It didn’t matter. The comfort of warm, layered fur, and the peace of small gentle paws. It was the only explanation they needed.

animalssittingoncapybaras.tumblr.com/