Social The Return of the Social Thread at the End of the Galaxy!

It is by will alone I set my mind in motion. It is by the juice of Sapho that thoughts acquire speed, the lips acquire a stain, the stain becomes a warning. It is by will alone I set my mind inWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUB

 

Beginnings are such delicate times. Therefore all the checks and balances should be made to ensure proper WUBWUBWUBBADAWUBBADAWUBWUBWUBWUB

 

"What's in the box?"

"WUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUB"

 

Checks? Balances?
[image=http://authority0.tripod.com/images/mixing_board.JPG.jpeg]
WOBBLE WOBBLE WUB WUB WUBWUB

 

The worm is the spice ... the spice is theWUBWUBWUBBADAWUBBADAWUBWUBWUBWUBU

 

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings totalWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUB

 

*wanders in and looks around*

Umm... nevermind.

*runs from thread*

 

No, silly, you must not fear. Fear is the mindkiller. You're doing it wrong, horsey.

 

I am a desert creatuWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUWBUWBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUB

 

Walk without rhythm
and it won't
attract
the
worm.

Walk without rhythm
and it won't
attract the
worm.

Walk without rhythm
and it won't
attract
the wooorr-m.

Walk without rhythm
huh-huhhh
you never WUBWUBWUBBADAWUBBADAWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUBWUB

 

Should I be worried about ORIGINS?

 

Perhaps blu has forgotten his password.

 

He's going through stuff. Return to school, amongst them. Amongst the stuff.

 

The things, if you will.

 

I will.

 

Penultimate ASP update. Players proceed to send me angry PMs in 3... 2...

 

Goddammit, ramza, I invested so much in ASP, and then you go and--

Oh, that's right, I'm not playing in that game.

 

Well, seeing as the whole point was that I'd end when Summer was over anyway, I don't think anybody sunk *too* much time in.

Probably.

 

Ramza. . .



I knew she would die, but so. . .quickly and so. . .gruesomely. . .



Do we reply? Or is there no reply? Could it end so suddenly?

But really, it was a fun game. Creepy. Odd. And always strange. During most of it I was scared. Still am, I believe.

 

You can reply, yeah.

You just die at the end of the reply.

As for whether or not this is the end... yes, it really is. Unfortunately the game's style and myself never got along too well, and the update quality has been slipping. The easy way out would've been to just call it quits and lock, but then I figured it might be interesting to explore just what happens inside an RPG when it ends.

 

I don't know why my back is so stiff, but I suspect is has something to do with those small desk chairs I get at school...

 

I hate those desks, man. At least the guys in the newer giant auditoriums get the cushioned theater-style seating.

 

Bloody young kids and all their luxuries today. Back in my day, we had to attend lectures in personalised Iron Maidens.

(Real story: my fondest memory of university lectures was to be sitting in a lecture theatre that had long wooden benches. Fairly uninventive graffiti was etched into most of the length of them, but one in particular stood out: a small circle of wood had been carved out of the surrounding panel, about the size of a small coin. Beneath this circle was inscribed in clear, flowing ink: "LECTURER DESTRUCT BUTTON".

*taptaptaptaptap*

Dammit, why isn't this thing working?)

 

Personalized? FEH. We had to cram into mass-produced ones and let me tell you: one size did NOT fit all. At least your Iron Maidens were comfy.

 

Luxury! When I went to high school we had to triple up on iron maidens to save on the budget, and if you were really unlucky you got stuck in one of the wooden ones. Ghastly splinters.