Let it all Hang Out...

[deadlegion]

[Till]

In addition, invest in gonadal supplements for highest quality sperm for the survival of the species as decreed by Cosmic Hierarchy.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cosmicism



/lovecraftimpersonator /mightbepossessed

[Till]

This is more than manliness, this is second state of masculine. In message only.

[Till]

The usual at the antipode of Oz.

[Till]

You mentioned a scenario of mostly everybody dying, everyone dies in the end of their story and death is the final punctuation as binary ASCII data. You mentioned mayhem, so I channeled the eldritch Cosmic Hierarchy of Lovecraft Cosmicism. Am I Lovecraft or am I possessed? Either way I'm as far away from you as in antipode geolocation yet the CPUs we are using require quantum entanglement to function and you're reading this message through quantum entanglement making distance an illusion. Now this is a letter for you mate, finest paper in all of Miami, writing a manly love letter then folding it origami quality paper airplane smeared with my American shit launched in your general geolocation as continuous digital correspondence within illusory distance. Right O blokes, cheers.

[deadlegion]

[Zaladane]

image-5a4cbc09.jpg

[Till]

image-5a4cbc09.jpg

I choose my Vagina Dentata tarot to counter.

[Zaladane]

FB_IMG_1752252168901.jpg

Bwahahahaha

[Till]

FB_IMG_1752252168901.jpg

Bwahahahaha

Creationism has evolved.

[Till]

If the locals do not want to pay for a flood warning system since 1987 the previous time there was a flash flood in Hill County TX that caused mass death, then tear down every building on the flood plains and never rebuild there designating it a national park like the Everglades. Or, you know, continue to make a deathtrap inhabited.

https://www.nytimes.com/2025/07/12/u...lain-maps.html

There's something sadder and more destructive than natural disasters, the American two party system and its politics.

[Till]

The people shooting down UFOs to retrieve them are shooting down egg-shaped UFOs which is what the amphibious aliens I encountered were in so they're shooting down benevolent teachers. The alien races observing us haven't destroyed us yet, our punishment may be their disapproval and hatred only but not to the point of going to war with us obviously or our planet would be disintegrated. Perhaps they feel sorry for the other life forms on this planet but most likely not us.

[Slacker Magician]

image-5a4cbc09.jpg

[Till]

LMBALLSO

Full version of MD.emu Genesis/MD emulator. Other emulators are inferior in sound and framerate and don't have built-in Game Genie/Play Action Replay cheat support. Attached to this post.

Download:
Attachment 75602

"The Three Rules of Bein' a Space Pirate Hero (preparedness guide in an instance of systemic failure of institutions and social order collapse)"

Listen up, ye galaxy rejects an' chaos-curious legends-in-the-makin' — this ain't no drill, it be a fuckin' RED ALERT! If/when civilization's crashin' down like a Rancor high on spice, and ye got two choices, Matey:

1. Cry like a whiny star-sprog.
2. Strap into yer leaky-ass cruiser vehicle an' become a SPACE PIRATE HERO with a cause, a crew, an' a rock-hard sense o' swagger. But hold onto yer space-pants, ya interstellar rascal — there be only THREE rules. Jus' three. Even a half-baked clone could remember that without fryin' its last neuron.

Rule One: Do No Harm Yarr, I know. Sounds like soft space tofu, right? WRONG. It means don't be no sadistic cosmic dick. You ain't here vaporin' space orphans for laughs. Ye ain't the villain. Ye be the badass antihero with a heart full o' plasma and a middle finger aimed straight at tyranny.

Rule Two: If Han Solo Wouldn't Do It, Neither Should You Han Solo — the sarcastic, smooth-talkin' smuggler king of cool. Ask yerself: "Would Han boot a baby alien out the airlock for a shiny coin?" No? Then neither should ye, Matey. Be roguish, not rancid. Smuggle wise, shoot first in a kill or be killed situation bein' sly, and charm like yer life depends on it (which it bloody does).

Rule Three: Every Episode Plays to the Mos Eisley Cantina Song in Yer Head That weird-ass space jazz? That's yer anthem, Matey. It's blastin' in yer skull when ye sneak onto an abandoned derelict ship. It's playin' when ye flirt with a royal sex robot. It's jammin' when ye take a dump readin' encrypted toilet paper. If the scene don't groove with the cantina beat? Yer doin' it WRONG. Adjust yer course or prepare to get sucked into the galactic crapper.



So here it be, ye future Captain o' Interstellar Chaos:

• Do no harm.
• Don't out-dick Han Solo.
  
• Keep that cantina groove flowin' like rum through a synth-liver.

Now grab yer blaster, put on yer scuffed-up boots, and let the galaxy know:

Ye came to kick ass, party, and punch evil straight in the fuckin' jet thrusters — and ye be fresh outta space ale and all out of bubblegum. The Force? Ha! It's starin' at ye, judgin'. So don't ye dare fuck this up.

Now sail, Matey. Be the space pirate protagonist ye were born to be. Yarrr, may yer engines stay hot and yer moral compass always slightly off-kilter.

[Andy_Jerk]

I'm going to be relinquishing the Biker Bob title for future artistic endeavors and just use my real name from now on: