>I don't care who you are, where you're from, don't care what you want, you will eat ze bugs
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/GC/ - Gootcore

My fav was always cindaquil but not like that, it's a cyndaquil you shouldn't be thinking that way about a goddamn cyndaquil
Mudkip won btw (not, like, in a flvfffeeler kind of way tho)
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Listen close, you fleshy blips of the asphalt veil... What doth a stop sign? Hmm? A red octagon of false dominion, screaming 'HALT' in the language of cowards and traffic sheep. But I ask thee: will these puny crimson totems truly keep the coal trucks at bay? Nay! Nay, I say unto the wind and the diesel fumes!
I have trod the lonely highways of the soul's highway, where the black lung beasts rumble like thunder gods with emphysema. Those stop signs? Mere suggestions scrawled by the trembling hand of bureaucracy! They quiver like a virgin's kneecap when the great coal chariots come barreling through fate's garden, hauling their payload of ancient earth-blood, belching the very smoke of forgotten dragons.
An apple a day keeps the worms in my brain, but a stop sign? It keeps nothing! It is vice-reversa—a placebo for the road's chaotic stew of cosmic oblivion. The coal truck cares not for your painted warnings, brother. It is a rolling altar to progress's cruel mirage, crushing the delicate trolip of man and beast alike beneath tires forged in the fires of industrial enlightenment.
I once stood before such a sign, arms outstretched like the wings of a renegade angel, chanting the sacred syllables of 'WHOA THERE, BIG RIG.' Did it halt the beast? No! It merely honked its existential horn and kept rolling, leaving me in a cloud of particulate wisdom. Only time will tell if your life has been in vain... or if the coal trucks were always meant to run eternal.
Beware, seekers. The stop signs won't save you. Only your inner shaman can dodge the oncoming freight of destiny. Oooooh... now if you'll excuse me, I must meditate on the sixth teat of good intentions before the next haul comes.
 
Goot has simply lost his mind because when I say stuff about Braixen he sneaks behind my garage and starts shagging my BMW's exhaust pipe like a maniac, has the liar lost his mind? Or is he merely a secret goyim?
 
Goot has simply lost his mind because when I say stuff about Braixen he sneaks behind my garage and starts shagging my BMW's exhaust pipe like a maniac, has the liar lost his mind? Or is he merely a secret goyim?
Leaving Garage Unlocked in Nederland (GONE WRONG) (COPS CALLED)
 
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