Still gets me that people claim the Beard Battle Business is just making out though. Like, how do they not know that the beards have to be close enough to engage in fisticuffs? But the lips are touching, they say. Excuse me, but smack talk is an important part of competitive sports. Furthermore, it's a well known fact that just throwing it out there is infective, as the follicles are often wildly swinging at each other and will knock all but the most ferocious insults away. In that case, the most efficient delivery system of said smack talk is directly to your opponent, via the nearest accessible airway (ie, mouth). Making out, they say... fools who don't understand sports.
I only hear of him in legends. They speak of a man of herculean strength, who a single flex from can be felt from miles away. Whose body of steel is admired by the lowly public who forever wish to even have a fraction of his power.
The pack encourages flex-kun, yet he still immensely regrets that first flex selfie. He only intended to send out one or two, in the hopes of attracting a mate. But Now that the community has gotten a sight of what true physique looks like, they will always yearn for more. In the discordian kingdom, you reap what you sow
These guys jar thier own farts and sample them at a later date. takes a deep sniff "Ahhhhh, 2011, a fine vintage, it has a distinct aroma of beans, and also a slight hint of egg, but not rotten egg. A very smooth fart. I rate it 4 stars"
Blows dust off of tome In the beginning, there was nothing. And it did displease the almighty Nova, so he proclaimed, “let there be a server”. And so it was. And the LORD was pleased. Then, he looked to the heavens and stormed, “let there be a buff baby”, and it was so, Michael, the Patron Saint of Feeding was created, and the LORD was pleased...
It was a cold, rainy Tuesday. The kind of day May was known for. Murrie sat on his bed, staring out of the window. With a long sigh he reached over and pulled a notebook out of the nearby desk drawer. He began to write: "Dear Diary. Today my heart is as grey and dark as the the weather outside is. I lost 2 subs today... If this keeps up, I may lose my affiliate status. And then I'll be... common again." He shuddered as he wrote the last line. "They called me..." Murrie took a long pause, willing the strength to go on. "They called me babyface..." His hand drifted away from the page, and a teardrop fell, landing perfectly on his final word...
And now, the first speech by Lydia May, Prime Minister, to the assembled press and public of Great Britain, since she reached power...
It was a dark story night many an eon ago in the quiet town of Ggcville. Life was good for the citizens of this town, the crime rate was low, profits were high and they were soon to celebrate a bountiful harvest. But this night was soon to change all this. Between the silence of the night and the cracks of thunder, a loud scream could be heard. This alerted the local authorities, the arbiters. The location of the noise came from the house of the one known as Audio (they knew instantly it was his house as the door was half-size). Upon entering the house, James the chief arbiter, was shocked at the site he saw. Audio was sat in the middle of the room rocking back and forth. The words "MAKE ME TALLER" were written in blood, tears were falling down his face. The arbiters were unsure what to do and decided it was best for everyone if he was locked away, so they quickly apprehended him and threw him into the darkest dog house, hiding the truth for years to come of where the little man named audio had gone. That was the end of this little story, for now.
Riipaa has decided to play as a wizard in the GGC. And aftrer a long long grind, he's finally able to tap into and learn his 9th level spells... He mulls over the list over and over again, before finally deciding on one he beleives will truly be useful. Looking around the chat is a bit quiet, so he thinks he could give this new spell a trial run. Riipaa takes one deep breath and utters a single word. "Welcome". No sooner than the word leaves his mouth people around him start dropping like flies, the GGC userbase numbers dwindling at a breakneck pace, and in an instant, he is the only one remaining.... "Perhaps Power Word: Kill was a poor choice" He thought to himself.
GGC Guide to PUBG Squad Wins: 1. Have one person drop late/head to the wrong marker 2. Shoot Caleb in the head 3. Don’t give DC a motorbike 4. No really, don’t give him a bike 5. Try to reason with enemies via voice BEFORE shooting at them 6. Get shot at by them 7. Try to rez Riipaa 8. Give up and leave him 9. Go back, shoot Caleb’s body again 10. Remember the circle 11. Try to run 3 miles to the circle while bandaging in the blue 12. Die an agonising death 13. Annoy/distract the remaining member of the squad 14. If they win, claim it was a great team effort 15. If they lose, say it was all their fault
The 2018 GGC Starter Kit includes a shaker of salt, a box of bandaids, a cup of noods, some instant coffee packets, an xbox controller, an overpriced graphics card, and a cardboard box you can turn into a toy. Everything is bright orange except for your nametag, which is light pink and shows your Nova-ship name. Pineapple references are expressly forbidden.
Behold the mighty Vi, as she steps upon the wankerous footstool known as Murray. Her tears of joy fall from the heavens as she ascends, and her people rejoice: "Lo, it shall be a good harvest this season."
And you must recite the prayer. Our Nova who art in cyber space Hallowed be thy name Thy sparkus come Thy sparkus done On Earth as it is on Halo Give us this day our daily games And lead us not into memes For yours is the hammer and wammer and the spammer-jammer forever Amen
OK so, @Vivian, I'm afraid that there is a conflict of interests here, however seeing as you have found out how to make me tick I'll have to concede to you, begrudgingly. Your first wish directly interferes with my secret ~~but not so secret now and also now moot~~ plans to take over and rule the world with a cat-girl harem. Being that this is the case (and so the beautiful cat-girls already exist), enjoy your seconds The second wish you have forfeited yourself, requesting two items has shown your greed. They would have to be 2 separate wishes as you have used the word 'AND' and as you have failed to read the fine print resulting in this error I am having to inform you myself that there are no take-backs to rectify a mistake, we BaldyBeardies are very crafty after all. Your third wish? hands helicopter manual You didn't specify instantly. Very very crafty Fuels on you btw I can however offer you 1 whole rep for your troubles.
rubs @falcorz head Oh great bearded one, with a shining head as radiant as the sun itself! I would like to announce my three wishes unto you, in exchange i provide many offerings of beard care products. Wish the first, I would like to be surrounded by beautiful catgirls at all times, this is truly a dream I have had for the longest of times, but the confines of reality has made it difficult to fulfill. Wish the second, I would like to have an infinite lifetime supply of cheesecake and chocolate to eat whenever my hearts desire, specially made magically wished chocolate and cheesecake where I do not gain any weight from eating it, no matter how much I eat of it. Wish the third, I wish to have the power of teleportation, the ability to transport myself or anyone I choose regardless of location to anywhere in the world. This shall make my final dream of being able to hug all my beloved GGC family a reality as well. (and i can also share my bounty of inifnite cheesecake and chocolate as well) I trust in your powers, oh great bearded one to make these wishes a reality.
whispers into phone Um, yes excuse me Arbiters? I'd like to report... begins to count, then slowly loses track Uh.... I'd like to report some strange people, they're doing a lot of creepy staring from across chatrooms and one of them seems to be following people and inhaling deeply. Yes, yes, I'll need you to come to the GGC ASAP, please....
@Unknown I grabbed a coffee and wrote a poem for your last nick The tomorrow pot of yesteryear yonder When mother asked me for some pot To cook delights tomorrow I hadn't thought to ask her "what?" I knew there would be sorrow I ventured out without a frown Her cooking makes me giddy To meet my friend within my town They made me pay tree fiddy Returning home from town so proud I showed her what I'd hunted "You idiot!" she shouted loud, "That's not the pot I wanted"
Do you like bigger bots and you cannot lie? We as your brethren cannot deny When a female organic with an extremely small hip to waist ratio walks in and positions a spherical glutius muscle towards our optical receivers, we get error. this command feature is unrecognized int he current model. Please try again. -- The Ballad of Sir MixaBot
Trolls gather, and now my watch begins. I shall take no waifu pillow, hold no checkpoints, father no assists. I shall be no MVP, and win no loot. I shall live and die by my posts. I am the silence in the darkness. I am the watcher for the spam. I am the judge that burns the edgelords, the words that scold the "how do I VC?", the shield that guards the realm of GGC. I pledge my life and honor to the GGC for this night and all the nights to come.
No, a NONtrash community because we keep monetized narcissism in its separate little dumpster fire.
The room is dark, save where the candles create golden pools of light. The incense from worship lingers in the air, and the only sounds are the quiet murmurings of the penitent and the soft shuffle of slippers on the stone floor. A tall figure, heavily draped and hooded, slips into the confessional. "Forgive me, Father Nova, for I have sinned. It has been one hour since my last confession." there is a brief, heavy silence, and then the reply comes from the screen, a voice of compassion and sadness, of forgiveness and infinite patience, and just a sexy bit o' British. "Tell me your sins, my child." "Father...I have memed. I memed three times in the last hour. I..I know it is wrong, but they are so funny and I just cannot help myself. Also, they anger Sen so much..." There is a sigh, and it sounds as if the occupant of the other booth is shifting uncomfortably. "My child...we all sin. It is in our nature. We must strive to be better. In penance you must pray three Hail Sparkies, and deposit fifty units of your local currency in the GGC Paypal..." The hooded figure breathes a sigh of relief. That is not so bad. "Yes Father. Thank you." "....and bring me a glass of water."
In David Attenborough voice... Riipaas eyes dart around nervously, when he notices it... the fire escape, his path to exploration. He double checks that his family are looking away, and then, like a coiled spring being released, he explodes into a sprint towards the door, the wind flowing through his hair, the tempting glint of freedom... alas, suddenly the ankle bracelet begins to beep as he leaves the 5 meter radius, and BAM, tazes him, causing him to collapse to the floor... Riipaa will not taste freedom today...
I was told you impregnate women and men alike with your mere prescence, James. Then again it's murray who told me this information, so maybe he's just making excuses to cover up the scandalous truth.
Hit bear with rock! Bear gets angry! ANOTHER rock! Bear still angry! Run away! Come back with another rock! - Murray's playstyle?
There was once a teapot that fell out of a international plane. It plummeted 30,000 feet before smashing onto the rails of a train track, just as a freight train trundled over it. Carriage after carriage thundered past, grinding it into dust... Supposedly, as it lay there, in a billion pieces, literally as dust, the teapot thought to itself, "at least I'm not as broken as @Rosie 's sleep cycle"...