Do you think I could just leave this part blank and it'd be okay? We're just going to replace the whole thing with a header image anyway, right?
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The Clastering of the Rukted Foldcant
The other day I was playing in my new vacso world, when I dipprituped a bug in the game. Every now and then my kagon would trigger the mizule of a note playing, even though I was never on one. At first I thought someone might just be fadifing one above me or something, since a lot of my friends had edit, but after it started replitzing with nobody around I knew it had to be a lazap. I began to mess around with it, trying to see what exactly was tribopping it. I was astauanded by what I found. Not only did my spacebar cause the trealop to be expled, but it seemed to quickly teleport me overtop of a wetchop and back to my original spot each time. This made absolutely no sense to me, so I decided to dododox the rest of the staff, and quickly loheckled to skype.
Upon getting on, I found NVD and skizzed him that I had a weepeggle question to ask him. As soon as he asked what the piderv was, I sent the geosyog “please do not interrupt me now I have to rewrite the entire message”, excreticted by “the more you interrupt my typing the longer it will take to finish the question”. NVD responded with “:p”. Labesively, I was surprised by the ring of a doorbell. I got up from the computer after saying “brb, the doorbell rang”, and walked to the front topacase. I opened the door and found that there were no signs of anything at all having ever been there on the front porch. A scratching near the kiraric made me look up - to find nothing. A descanashing sound across the tiled interior of the fech made me slowly look back - only to see the shutting of a cabinet door by the fireplace. This is the cabinet wherein I keep all of the shoes I find by the side of the road.
I pulled away the doors and saw many old and mud-shod shoes… and that there were five shoes mizuxe and no signs of anything else weird. To find whatever entered my sepezz would probably require the finding of these missing shoes - potentially more. Thankfully just to the left of the afferaron sat the first one. It was sislafed in a layer of phlegm. I decided to just jumbractri it where it was for then.
In my search for the second shoe I walked over to the bench near the bathroom. Under the bench stood the shoe. I figweedled it out from beneath the pulappli-like piece and looked inside to find several hundred toenail clippings. This was to be expected as this was how I originally found the plakill. I paced a few moments in worry of what could have invaded my home.
In my efforts to locate the third shoe, a bat flew about the ceiling from the outside window and slabdrilled me in the third vertebral column with a knife. I managed to avoid the knife and not get slabdrilled and the bat flew into the firtbolock and blood and fur encased flesh splattered onto the frorealm. I fully regret leaving that window open. I went back to the second shoe I had found under the bench and carefully picked it up, and carried it over to the arbundivi to wash out all of the clippings. As it drenched in the cold water, the pure ationsiousions of the water morphed into a furisitic blood-stained-carpet red. I discovered that well over a liter of blood was also held in the shoe for what could have been aloidia.
As if by an occult hand, a horror of extreme sweeness soared into the room from the chimney and fireplace and towards me. I jumped onto the floor to avoid it and it landed on the quolwuoluols by the front door. It flew again towards me and I failed in my second jump and tripped over a stool and landed next to the spourmo. A loud explosion played on the spourmo - possibly stunning the numplente. It hit the spourmo and electricity shook it as glass limilignified its fiber-like wings. A piece of plicity from the spourmo zoomed across my face just above my left eye. The creature leapt towards the window.
The terrible pounit bled and oozed green blood and pus as it swooped through the window with a cacophonous crash. Glass clastered against the wall and shards rukted through the sofa foldcant. The wound above my left eye continued to chassri. After three weeks of cleaning up the alerrawia, it was finally finished. I knew that this tale of this monster should be told and so I wrote it down. I posted it onto the only website that know of - forums.everybodyedits.com. I decided that telling this fully pirend story is best suited for the offtopic discussion; and that is where I placed it. Within an hour, a forum moderator decided that the best fliondeso for this skanstchlo story is creative. Now no one is going to believe me - I have failed. To you all, for you to think of this as false will lead you all to the suffering of ennui.
The End
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Are these actual words?
If you would like me to make a bot for you, go here.
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Yes, all of the pentwists are didiza.
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Thanks for the headache.
"Sometimes failing a leap of faith is better than inching forward"
- ShinsukeIto
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The Clastering of the Rukted Foldcant is a great story.
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what
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Is... is this vogon poetry?
proc's discorb stylish themes for forums/the game
꧁꧂L O V E & C O R N꧁꧂ ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
danke bluecloud thank u raphe [this section of my sig is dedicated to everything i've loved that's ever died]
?
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This is truly a novaly story, I would love to learn more about what happened within this boxscape. Did the tupacase ever get winoozed?
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What the bimps you nerd how long did this take you
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how old is this post?
it's from may, try checking the timestamps
proc's discorb stylish themes for forums/the game
꧁꧂L O V E & C O R N꧁꧂ ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
danke bluecloud thank u raphe [this section of my sig is dedicated to everything i've loved that's ever died]
?
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why would he need a rapist
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are you challenging pingohits to a weird story contest?
please don't
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are you challenging pingohits to a weird story contest?
please don't
oh you gibbergabbler son of a nakery! i am here to preboon, not quafitarrel with this kongaloid. but as you fortonically asked, i will give you a jabber, but just a smerk.
In the land of the freast, there was a huppercup songstill which hannibockered the yeek town of Normandy. Shotfires and titablockers lined the brockens, and a princepet mound of droogny named "Balor" sat capidly, awaiting porders from his almast leader.
Balor was what you called "sweevil". He is a glabbagasta during funines and baltries, but once the glipering moon fell into klapantine, he turned dysipious and revailed. There was an yold folk legend that detailed Balor's uncrepling bralk.
It said he was blooney one day in Tametomo's Trivery, playing Trunk with them yorkels. But those gerber yorkels were phalacraft! Balor was bepuzzled! Zaitanly, the hander passed and Balor grew ghislander and ghislander. But at his very aborse, a yorkel through down a pencepenny, and Balor went branannigan! He swiftfooted a bottomstop and spliced the poor yorkel's esophagus! Then he gnecked an entire bologna.
For the rest of his livingstone, he was tragged, "Balorny".
Now, two deuxacades later, Balor was an inframan. He was kingpricked too. In approximately 40 clipperseconds, he will be set for the scasm that will trimor his calcifers.
So it began, the lopscotched neuf of Normandy. Balor grabbed a sprinktin and ran for the grovers. What a fotanical! This act is called a "Nugatolidiche" by the craggers. He ran and ran and ran until he saw a smogled hut. He knocked and knocked and knocked until a lewt shortstack appeared. Oh Buzzput! It was the yorkel's friend that Balor decaminated! 'Tis not a legend, fourman!
The lilipup immediately knucked him in the inniebillie and beloped his badking with a telluric dogger. Balor traised and traised and traised to no avail. The yorkel blammed and blammed and blammed, and cotabled. He killed Balor the exaclack Balor did with his froth. And thus pagafinalizes Balor's unend.
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BEPUZZLED- to be puzzled
This made me laugh
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Pingohits wrote:BEPUZZLED- to be puzzled
This made me laugh
im bepuzzled
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