Vader’s Well: the well about vadre

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v

protected by a silver spoon
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HELLO, SMOGON. I AM Vader. I live in a rural community in Massachusetts. I am very multiracial. I’ve actually posted about myself a LOT on this forum and they were done on more drugs than this probably, so read up. I think I did a minibiography in one, so I’m not gonna bother reposting stuff from those unless it pertains to questions.

My hobbies include reading, writing, and playing games. I like long walks on the anywhere and talking about monster trucks versus guns. I think I am interesting, but if you do not think I am interesting, then you don’t have to ask a question.

ok now here’s my well’s special rules:
1) not every post has to have a question about drugs. there’s a drug thread if you have a MIGHTY NEED to ask what kind of weed will get you the most fucked up. but if your question is fun/cool and has drugs ask it anyways because stuff that is fun/cool is the best
2) i know i made a sick avatars thread and fate said maybe I’d get some q’s (questions) about making faces but maybe not. This is not really a rule since I wouldn’t mind questions about making faces but not too many because repetition is boring.
3) Please do not turn my well into a joke well I will not be happy ):< ):< ):

edit: i forgot my well blurb so i guess
"There's a guy who strolls casually into town and he's like 'hey guys do you have any drugs?' and some old crone is like 'no but we have a talking well'
'ok,' the drifter replied amicably. he leans over the well. 'hello?'
and then the old woman pushes the dashing and beautiful drifter into the well. with a cackle like a thing that cackles she says, 'ok now you have to answer questions until next week'
'what happens next week?' the well asks
'we pour cement down the well and wait for the next drifter'"
 
ok i know guns versus monster trucks is a hard choice but what about...

gun trucks versus monsters?
 

His Eminence Lord Poppington II

proverb:the fish who eats most dies still too
is a Forum Moderator Alumnusis a Smogon Discord Contributor Alumnusis a Contributor Alumnusis a Battle Simulator Moderator Alumnus
what's with the occasional inversion of the 'r' and 'e' in your user?

what's the community like where you live?

would you be willing to post some stuff you have written?
 

Arcticblast

Trans rights are human rights
is a Forum Moderatoris a Tiering Contributoris a Social Media Contributor Alumnusis a Senior Staff Member Alumnusis a Community Contributor Alumnusis a Battle Simulator Moderator Alumnusis a Past SPL Champion
How long has the glasses Porygon (not just the GL one, every single one you've ever had) been your avatar?
 

macle

sup geodudes
is a Top Tutor Alumnusis a Site Content Manager Alumnusis a Social Media Contributor Alumnusis an Artist Alumnusis a Forum Moderator Alumnusis a Tiering Contributor Alumnusis a Top Contributor Alumnusis a Smogon Media Contributor Alumnusis a Battle Simulator Moderator Alumnus
where you going to college if you get to go?

if you could ban one user who would it be besides iss?
 

PK Gaming

Persona 5
is a Site Content Manager Alumnusis a Forum Moderator Alumnusis a Community Contributor Alumnusis a Smogon Discord Contributor Alumnusis a Tiering Contributor Alumnusis a Top Contributor Alumnusis a Past SPL Champion
Obligatory: Your top 6 favorite Pokemon?

-What do you think of Gurren Lagann's OST? Specifically Row Row Fight Power!

-Favorite GL character?

-What do you think of the other gen V metagames (BW OU, UU, Ubers etc)
 

v

protected by a silver spoon
is a Site Content Manager Alumnusis a Senior Staff Member Alumnusis a CAP Contributor Alumnusis a Tiering Contributor Alumnus
rodan said:
ok in a battle royale with the thing/the hulk/blob/juggernaut who would win?
Well, Thing and Blob are outclassed immediately. Thing's strong, but his strength is static, ditto with the Blob. Hulk's actual strength level has no known limit as long has he continues to build in rage, and Juggernaut draws his power from an extradimensional godbeingthing. If it came down to the two, I'd say Hulk wins because 1) he's more often a hero than a villain and 2) the Hulk has the same healing factor as wolverine, but Juggernaut is just invulnerable. Hulk would eventually get mad enough to rip Juggs in two.

asim said:
ok i know guns versus monster trucks is a hard choice but what about...

gun trucks versus monsters?
Ah! This one is a conundrum for the ages. However, you can find my answer here.

the opening pic is broken but it was probs just a SICK gun

Poppycock said:
what's with the occasional inversion of the 'r' and 'e' in your user?
This one is sort of a longish story, so bear with me here.

A long, long time ago, in an IRC channel in a network far, far away, (#littlecup on Dejatoons iirc) there was a user named Vader. One day, Vader was bored, and decided to confuse his fellow channel-goers for a bit of fun. So, he began to post smileys in the chat like {|},,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,999/''

People asked, "Vader, what are you doing, you ridiculous fellow you?"
I responded, "I AM NOT VADER, I AM...vadre, lrod of emotre,"
"ok whats emotre"
"emotre is pure freedom of expression,.....it means [[[[.?"
In the land of emotre, e is the sacred letter and is put at the end of the word whenever possible. Some other silly rules were that w was used instead of p or v like "I am w hungry" because it was far enough from both p and v as to warrant a question about it. The enemies of emotre were tragato, which also doesn't mean anything. Over the course of a week, it expanded into a vast fake universe fueled by nonsense. vadre is the sole survivor, but emotres show up sometimes on IRC.

Poppycock said:
what's the community like where you live?
The parents are very overprotective but everyone does drugs. Well, ~87% iirc from the last survey, but yeah. There's a big focus on academics though, so the kids have to do well while doing drugs, which they do. I like the area, but not the people.

Poppycock said:
would you be willing to post some stuff you have written?
Blue-Grass
a wonderful tale by amir

“We have lived here for a hundred grow cycles,” Potato Paul bellowed. “Those carrots have never expressed any sort of reservation prior to today, and by gum, we’re not letting them into the Patch!” The Patch cheered their great leader, Papa Potato Paul. Paul was an unassuming potato, standing at a meager four inches, but his chiseled features and rippling fibers spoke volumes about his character, not to mention his perfect golden-brown skin.
On the other side of the farm, Beta Keratin, emperor of the Zanahorian Empire, bellowed similarly: “Those damn patatos have been taking up too much of the patch for too long!” he roared. “What right have they to impede our growth, the superior race, the Holy Zanahorian Empire?” The carrots cheered and cheered. Beta Keratin smirked smugly. Those stupid taters wouldn’t know what hit them….

“I come on behalf of my lord, Beta Keratin,” Carrot Carmen yelled at the Patch. “I come bearing a notice of annexation, and one of eviction!”
Potato Paul himself came out to meet him. “What ho, Carmen?” he sneered. “I remember when you were a wee growling of not even a year. Why now do you come to us with demands of greater territory? You carrots have already ousted the turnips and the onions.” Paul shuddered at the thought of the fate that had befallen the onions. The stories of the camps where they were slowly peeled alive, layer-by-layer, until there was nothing left, awake for the entire agonizing process.
“We have need of more land,” Carmen responded curtly. “We’ve no patience for your nonsense, so if you don’t leave peacefully, we will be forced to resort to…force.” There was an awkward silence. “Idiot…” Carmen muttered under his breath.
Paul glared. “Then, tell Beta Keratin that he’ll have the Patch the same day I rot in hell.” And, in one swift motion, Paul drew his sword and stabbed Carmen in the chest very politely.
“Agh!” Carmen declared (rather rudely, I might add), “my heart!” He promptly fell and died where he stood.
“TATERS! TATERS! TATERS!” the cry came from the Patch. Paul smiled. They had won this day.

The next day, the carrot army stood outside of the Patch, Beta Keratin at the front, his bloated and disgusting pale-orange conical body crushing the poor garlic mount beneath him. “ATTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK,” he burped. How uncouth… he thought crassly to himself.
“DEFEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEND,” Paul shrieked, dozens upon dozens of taters erupting from the ground, fully-armed with a variety of deadly weapons, ranging from swords to makeshift mirror heatrays. The carrots responded with a flood of boiling water.
The battlefield seemed to scream as the scalding torrent was unleashed upon it. Potatoes and carrots alike were instant boiled alive. An evacuation was ordered on the Patch, but it didn’t stop the initial burst from killing a dozen innocent women and children spuds.
“Gragagahahahaha!” Beta Keratin faux pased, “You worthless patatos will be eradicated within the week!”

That night, at Potato HQ, the tiniest potato, Percy, asked, “Papa Paul, my mommy and daddy are dead, Papa Paul. Why are you crying, Papa Paul? Papa Paul, what are we gonna do?”
“Yeah, Paul,” Potato Pete asked, chomping on his cigar, “what are we gonna do?”
Paul wiped the tears from his eyes and sobbed hoarsely, “Release mister Snuggles tomorrow at dawn.”

“RELEASE SNUGGLEEEEEEEEES,” Pete screamed. The doors to the cage opened, and a very thin rabbit emerged. “Snuggles,” Paul said sternly, pointing at the Zanahorians, “eat.”
Mister Snuggles’s ears perked up immediately. It was…beautiful. A whole legion of carrots, ripe for the picking. Beta Keratin rose to the front, shrieking, “You god damn patatos think you have any right to this to us, the master race? To us, the Lords of--” In a single motion, mister Snuggles chomped Beta Kertin’s head off.
Paul had only this to say: “It’s spelled ‘potato,’”
“Release mister Sunshine and miss Daisydale!” Pete yelled. Two more dilapidated bunnies were freed from their prisons. They made short work of the carrot army, but they didn’t stop there. They pursued the few survivors back to their portion of the Patch and devoured everything. Women, children, turnip slaves, everything. Men and women carrots cried in the streets as they awaited their inevitable destruction at the hands of Snuggles, Sunshine, and Daisydale.
Chomp, chomp chomp. Within a few hours, the entire carrot civilization had been eradicated.
Potato Paul looked on sadly. Pete walked up to him and clasped him on the back. He was smiling. “Looks like the carrots,” Pete began, pausing to pull the cigar out of his mouth and slap on a pair of sweet shades, “bit off more than they could chew.”
And the cry came from the potato patch, “YEEEAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!”


Awkward Teenage Rebellion:
A Tale of Trials, Tribulations, and Trfuck everyone else
4/13/11
Amir, who is the best!!
“This is an election, not a popularity contest,” Vice Principal Atwater-Rhodes belches uproariously at me as I carelessly toss ‘Vote Amir’ Walrus-themed buttons into the screaming crowd, “You have to take this seriously!”
I look at her as though she has some sort of syndrome, or perhaps several. I am taking this seriously. I play to win, not to play, not for some asinine, childish notion of competition. I am someone who wins things, not someone who plays games. But, there is a time and a place to argue with Saltwater-Chodes, and this is not that time or that place. “Fine,” I grunt begrudgingly.
I sit down. Sweating, wringing hands, shaking legs, shifting eyes, my stomach ready to void itself on these lesser malefactors who would dare challenge my rightful place as designated head of the class, as the omnipotent and omniscient god-leader of the frosh, as class president. Or, in my case, crass president??
They deliver their speeches one by one. Pitiful. Specific call-outs, promises they can’t fulfil. Garbage, utter garbage. The representative candidates go, then the secretary, then treasurer, then vice president. I am the last candidate to go.
My turn finally comes. “You’re up, Amir.”
Deep breath. Open eyes. Look at the crowd. They’re cheering for you, just for you. The nerves melt into a careless smile. “It’s been a while,” I saw. So cavalier, so confident. So unknowing. I deliver the speech. A gesture here, a new expression. Lean in, create some closeness. Inflection, tone, pacing. And then I’m at the end.Panic. I need a powerful finishing statement, something earth-shaking, something boss as all hell.
Shifting eyes. Calm smile. I’ve got it.
“So, this year, vote the Walrus.” Nixon arms. The right one comes down. Make some tusks, create some playful innuendo. Head-waggle, the tongue comes out. They love it. They fucking love it.
Good game, Ian Farquar. Good game, Natalie Gruat. Good game, Isaac Guilmet.
But today, I win.

Six hours later the announcement comes. “And president…Amir Hafez”
I’m on my way out of band. I freeze in the wall as my stomach drops out of my body. My friends and I jump into the air screaming, cheering, whooping, swearing. I’d done it. I’m the greatest.

Three hours later there’s a Facebook group. “If anything goes wrong at the high school, I’m blaming Amir.” Smirk. It’s nothing. Jealous kids, can’t handle my superiosity.

Three weeks later people are asking for favors. “I voted for you,” they say. Shrug it off. Fuck them. Others beg me to make decisions that fall outside my jurisdiction. I can’t put a third cookie in the Otis Spunkmeyer bags, you cretins. And even if I could, I wouldn’t do it for whiny shits like you.

Three months later and the Monty Python movie fundraiser is a hit. People come for extra credit in history. They leave with a new appreciation for surreal humour. They buy baked goods in droves. We make a cool $300.
Six months later and everything is falling apart. The Rock Band tournament has fallen through. No xBox, no sign-ups, no time. That’s what it boils down to, isn’t it? Time. There just isn’t enough. The dodgeball tournament has dozens upon dozens of sign-ups. Turn-out looks like it’s going to be great. I’m excited as fuck. This would make up for the Rock Band fiasco, no doubt! Then two teams show up. And people have the nerve to bitch about how “nothing gets done?” Fuck this. Fuck them.
“Can you do my Spanish homework for me, Amir?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s cheating.”
“Man, I voted for you!”
Thanks a lot, asshole.
It’s May. “Are you planning on running again?” Mr. Green, class advisor, asks. People complain more and more and no number of explanations seems to satisfy them. Sports make planning meetings with the other officers nigh-impossible and the blame lands squarely on me for not finding some miraculous way to work around it all. Everyone blames me and bitches and moans about how we have no money, when in reality we do. Everyone feels they have a right to chew me out.

My face burns with shame at the question. “I don’t know if I will,” I reply.

I don’t.


“Not Anymore”
a non-science fiction piece by amir

“…and that is why we are now able and ready to begin construction of the Antimatter/Wind-powered Extradimensional Super-Oscillating Machine,” the presenter concluded excitedly.
Professor Rutherford cocked a skeptical eyebrow. “You’re calling the tower ‘AWESOM?’”
The other physicists at the conference began to shift uncomfortably, their eyes turned downwards and darting about like a bee on a midsummer’s afternoon. There was a single, awkward cough among all the shuffling. The presenter cleared his throat and muttered something inaudible and, more likely than not, profane in Rutherford’s general direction before muttering sheepishly into the microphone, “Well, you do have to admit, it’s pretty fucking cool…”
Rutherford sighed. “‘Cool’ as it may be, I was hoping to call this device something a bit less…juvenile? I don’t know. How about something simple like Dimensional Oscillation Device, or Dee-Oh-Dee for short?”
“AWESOM it is, then!” the presenter enthused, clearly brushing off Rutherford’s suggestion. The room of PhDs erupted in applause accompanied by mutters of how “kickass” this project would be. Rutherford sighed.


“WE ARE BUILDING A RELIGION, WE ARE MAKING IT BIGGER! WE ARE WIDENING THE CORRIDORS, AND ADDING MORE LANES!!” the speakers blared from backstage of the press conference to announce Project: AWESOM.
Rutherford sighed. “Why are we blasting music? Especially ‘Comfort Eagle,’ of all songs?” he asked crossly as he removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, groaning. “We aren’t trying to build any sort of religion and in fact I would prefer if any mention of religion was kept out of any press releases. Quantum mechanics and gods don’t mesh well in my experience.”
“Whoa man, are you from squaresville? Because you’re totally harshing my mellow,” the presenter from a few weeks said unabashedly. He was scheduled to deliver the press conference and had clearly worn his Sunday best: a flat-brimmed hat jauntily askew, a golden chain that looked as though it had been taken from a man many times larger than average, sunglasses that looked more like plastic drapes than anything, and thirty-two shining diamonds in his teeth. Rutherford gawked. “Yeah, I know, I’m pretty ‘funky fresh,’ if I say so myself!” the presenter gushed. Rutherford gawked again.
Rutherford sighed. “This is going to be a PR disaster…” he murmured as the curtain went up and the presenter turned to face the crowd.
“Yo, press boys, CHECK IT!” the presenter yelled, placing his arms into an awkward position that seemed more suitable for a still-frame of a quadriplegic falling from a plane. “We’re building a portal to another dimension, WHOA!”
The room full of reporters went silent. Dead silent. Fifteen seconds or so passed.
“You’re kidding, right?” one of the reporters asked. “What is this going to be called? Why are we doing this? The only dimensional analysis we’ve heard of is sonar of an almost-entirely gaseous dimension. What do we stand to gain?”
“It’s an Antimatter/Wind-powered Extradimensional Super-Oscillating Machine,” the presenter said before flashing a winning, diamond-encrusted smile, “or AWESOM, for short.”
The reporters smirked collectively for a moment before their eyes darkened and brows furrowed and mouths turned downwards. “That’s fucking retarded,” the reporter from The National Inquirer said flatly. “I would know.”
Rutherford sighed. He stepped up on stage and seized the microphone in a matter of moments. “We are building the device because chemical analyses show that there is a high concentration of very high-energy gas in the dimension. In other words, a nearly-limitless supply of renewable, clean energy.” Rutherford gestured dramatically. “Gentlemen, the future is upon us. Will you be part of our bold revolution, or will you remain trapped in the days of one-world? The future is here and,” in a moment of blind desperation, Rutherford grabbed the presenter’s sunglasses. For science, he told himself. He put them on and said confidently, “it’s wild.”
The reporters gawked. Rutherford cocked an eyebrow. The reporters gawked again before taking a photo and beginning to whisper excitedly. They knew they were serious now. No way would someone make such an unfunny reference so earnestly in a press conference unless they were serious. Such is the way of the world.


“Rutherford, get over here!” one of the interns gargled excitedly. “You need to see this!”
“What is it?” Rutherford grumbled. “What am I seeing?”
“The black smoke! It’s CCoRa!” the intern sputtered. “More CCoRa than we’d ever imagined existing! According to the full analysis, the largest concentration of it is also the easiest to oscillate into a portal.”
“That’s irrelevant, since we can oscillate wherever we please as long as the coordinates are right,” Rutherford said. “The issue is that we need to do this up high, hence the tower. Otherwise, the temperature is too high for proper oscillation to b initiated. But,” Rutherford took a short, sharp breath, “the gas has never looked like CCoRa on the sonar analysis. It’s way too billowy and smoke-like. It doesn’t move like CCoRa. Plus, CCoaRa is solid at the stratosphere and liquid down here. There’s nowhere hot enough to exist as gas outside of a laboratory, and we know it doesn’t move like that.”
“Whoa, way to bombard me, Mr. Exposition!” the intern scoffed. “We got like, mega-oscillators and superscience and shit. Do what we want. I could tip over your truck now, all the rules are different.”
Rutherford sighed. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Doesn’t need to! New dimension, new rules,” the intern said. For a moment there was something similar-to-but-not-quite an awkward silence before the intern’s face lit up and his mouth curled into a smile of pure ecstasy as he yelled, “NERD!!”
Rutherford grumbled something obscene and hobbled off angrily.


“Hrm…” Rutherford mumbled as he pored over the hundreds upon thousands of sonar scans. Why is the CCoRa so smokey? It’s flowing way too slowly and deliberately, almost like it has direction… Rutherford wondered. At the very least, he knew it was Carbon-Cobalt-Radium. He knew that it was the high energy gas they were looking for. He didn’t know it if it was safe to go in after. He scratched his as-of-lately unshaven chin and sipped his coffee contemptuously. It was 4AM and he had exactly one last-ditch, bottom-of-the-barrel idea left. He pulled up all of the scans as .jpg files and ran them through an image comparison program. Upon receipt of the results, Rutherford’s eyes turned to dinner plates as he began to swear under his breath to a dozen different iterations of God.


“Hrng…dtzpsfta…” Rutherford mumbled. “Bgwah!” He jolted awake, suddenly frantic. What time was it? Rutherford grabbed the clock next to him. Well, he tried to, anyways. He fumbled it once or twice before dropping it. Balls. He glanced at the computer in front of him blearily before remembering computers had had clock functions since some time in the 1980s at least. 11:02. Balls. It was going to start soon. He had to get there, and fast.

11:12 was when Rutherford got off the elevator at the top of the tower, right as the presentation was drawing to a close. No pants, unshaven, sweat-stained, smelly, slipper on his right foot only, labcoat open, and bags drooping under bloodshot eyes. “Don’t open that gate!” he yelled. “If you open that gate, we could all very possibly die!”
The presenter laughed. “We’ve scanned enough to know the only ‘danger’ is the CCoRa making us too rich for our own good!”
“No!” Rutherford grunted. “The alleged smoke is an organism. It’s moving in a very consistent, predictable pattern. The liquid must be the brain or something.”
“Whatever, nerd,” the presenter sneered. “I just hope you don’t wet your boxers, WEENIE!” The switch was pulled and oscillation began. Particles were fired back and forth, back and forth, gaining energy and approaching infinite mass. The air fell flat and there was no sound. All of a sudden, there was a flash that seemed like it should have had a crackle and a rush of air that smelled like Hell itself, sulfurous and gassy.
The black smoke began to billow slowly through the miniscule rift, rising and falling slowly, predictably, almost like breathing. In a matter of moments, a small cloud of inky darkness had formed. In the center of the cloud, smoke began to swirl and congeal into a thick sphere. From the sphere, a pitch-dark pseudopodia flowed gently out of the cloud, its black sludge dripping impossibly slowly and hitting the ground without so much as a plop. A small black ball began to form at the tip.
The room watched mutely.
A white, smiling, mask-like face surfaced slowly from the black, sludgey tentacle. It opened its mouth slowly and began to scream.
The scream was a sound totally unlike any other. It was a sound that cut past any logic or courage and pierced the soul with the cold spear of fear.
In a few seconds, the number of heads had grown to a dozen, then a hundred, then a thousand. Slowly, all around Rutherford, matter began to break down into small chunks and eventually into dusty nothingness. The cloud continued to flow forwards. More heads emerged. Rutherford became vaguely aware of his arms and face drifting serenely past his head into nothingness, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Everything was disintegrating, and no one could do anything about it.
Not anymore.


I'm sure I have more stuff and I'll post it if I find any.

Mountain Cutegong said:
should 2010/2011'ers be banned from posting in wells????????
idk, the interwebs and idunno are 09ers...

Cuteain Mountgong said:
ps. come to new zealand????
Do you guys have dingos because dingos are so cool !_! but yeah, I do definitely want to go to Australia/NZ/whatever else is down that far in the southern hemisphere and is not a total shitjockey country

Arcticblast said:
Ummm, well originally my avatar was seizuregon

and then vadergon, which I cant find atm, but it was a Porygon wearing a Darth Vader helmet p much

then Gen gave me the original Porygon avatar, which I put some nifty specs on. I liked the look, so I kept it whenever requesting a new avatar from Fate! I also usually picture/recognize users on the internet by their avatars, so for other people that do that I am a Kaminagon, which is p cool imo d:

I had a seizure whale once too.

macle said:
where you going to college if you get to go?
UMass Dartmouth. It's not that good but it's good enough V: I will probs transfer to Umass Amherst for second semester since it's where I really wanted to go.

macle said:
if you could ban one user who would it be besides iss?
I would not ban anyone, except maybe rikuxking/game fusion master because even shit users are fun to make fun of. gfm bugs me over VMs too much for too long tho.

EDIT:

PKGaming said:
Obligatory: Your top 6 favorite Pokemon?
Porygon, Rotom, Magnemite, Kyogre, Charmeleon, Mewtwo

PKGaming said:
-What do you think of Gurren Lagann's OST? Specifically Row Row Fight Power!
Row Row is good, but my favorite is All You Bastards Get Fired Up!

PKGaming said:
-Favorite GL character?
Lordgenome, followed by Lordgenomehead, followed by Kamina.

PKGaming said:
What do you think of the other gen V metagames (BW OU, UU, Ubers etc)
I don't play much OU because all the bitching from the playerbase really turns me off. Weather Wars aren't that fun either...

UU is fun! I am not very good at it because I only play one match every few weeks or so and don't keep current, but I enjoy it in general.

I played a fair bit of Ubers at the start of Gen V but my interest has kind of waned. I don't really like Arceus...but I wouldn't ban it. It's the same with LC and Eviolite, actually xD
 

az

toddmoding
is a Community Contributoris an Artist Alumnusis a Community Leader Alumnusis a Smogon Media Contributor Alumnus
this post is a reminder that well threads are not an excuse to post mindlessly or ask dumb questions
 

tennisace

not quite too old for this, apparently
is a Site Content Manager Alumnusis a Top Social Media Contributor Alumnusis a Community Contributor Alumnusis a Researcher Alumnusis a Top CAP Contributor Alumnusis a Tiering Contributor Alumnusis a Contributor Alumnusis a Smogon Media Contributor Alumnusis an Administrator Alumnus
best blue team moment

why are you so cute

why am i posting on smogon

guns that shoot monster trucks with guns for drivers vs green lanturn, how many people die

why did you steal my question mark key

edit why is paradoxus so unoriginal

why did you also steal my colon key
 
From Jabba's thread:

Paradoxus said:
preferable bra size?

have you ever been in the ER?

favorite breakfast food?

what is the strangest thing you mixed with alcohol?

who is your least favorite mod on this site?

have you ever thought of going to war?

do you play any sports?
Answer them.
 

awyp

'Alexa play Ladyfingers by Herb Alpert'
is a Top Tutoris a Top Team Rateris a Community Leaderis a Community Contributoris a Tiering Contributor
RMT Leader
What are your views on Religion?

Green Lantern vs. Batman who wins?
 

v

protected by a silver spoon
is a Site Content Manager Alumnusis a Senior Staff Member Alumnusis a CAP Contributor Alumnusis a Tiering Contributor Alumnus
Nite Owl said:
okay if Hulk, Superman, and Goku competed to kill Rodan in the most brutal way, who wins
No one because with the death of rodan the food industry takes a huge hit, sending the entire planet into a downward spiral of economic turmoil.

iss said:
What was the first thing you thought when you saw this post?
vader's brain said:
sprinkles
YEAh I KNOW SPRINKLES JOKES AREN'T FUNNY ANYMORE
p.s. little known fact: when I type in all caps I hold down the shift key instead of using caps lock

#Az said:
this post is a reminder that well threads are not an excuse to post mindlessly or ask dumb questions
Justice League looks after its own! Does this mean we are like a street gang? I would rather be the drachmabloods than the dracrips because I am not crippled afaik.

Knight of the Wind said:
So, why exactly are you such a big deal round these parts?

How exactly did you become such a big deal round these parts?
I'm not sure if you mean "why do you mod several forums" or "what about you makes you well material," so I will answer both!

I got mods for bearing Little Cup on my back for a long time, and I slowly amassed power until I became the bloated specimen you see before you today. As for why I am well-material, I have made a few very thoughtful, serious posts in serious personal threads as well as a few funny/stupid ones, so I'd like to think that makes me seem like an interesting and well-rounded individual. I think that answers the question, but if it didn't just let me know and I'll try to rectify my response.

The Brothers Paradox said:
preferable bra size?
Depends on the build of the girl, obviously. DDD on a 5’3” girl isn’t attractive, it’s obscene. I’d put my preference at somewhere between B and C. As my father, Amr, once told me, “The size of the boob doesn’t matter as long as you can fit some of it in your mouth.”

The Brothers Paradox said:
have you ever been in the ER?
Twice, both times were for ultrasounds on my balls, both for different reasons.

The Brothers Paradox said:
favorite breakfast food?
I’m very indecisive so I usually go with eggs. So, I don’t always eat cereal, but when I do, it’s
or Honey-Nut Cheerios.

The Brothers Paradox said:
what is the strangest thing you mixed with alcohol?
I drink liquor straight, preferably out of the bottle in a brown paper bag or a flask. If I do have it from a glass, it’s from the most traditional glass available. I take after my father in that regard. A little tangential, but ~now you know~ d:

The Brothers Paradox said:
who is your least favorite mod on this site?
I don’t care. We’re all here to better the site and even if we disagree, I’d like to think our mods are big enough to leave personal squabbles in the past. Gen.

The Brothers Paradox said:
have you ever thought of going to war?
Nope. Unless I had some sort of sick superpower, I would stay home in my warm, safe bed and away from gunfire and sand. Plus, half of my family is arab and would never forgive me if I did, and I am not yet done sponging money from them.

The Brothers Paradox said:
do you play any sports?
Years ago I played community education basketball and Freshman and Sophomore years of high school I wrestled but I quit because wrestling blows and I would rather just stay home.

tennisace said:
best blue team moment
ahahah blue crew! It took me a second to remember what blue team was d: My personal favorites were Delibazooka, anything with sb12, and ofc when Doug told us he could use "covert alts" to battle when the urge struck him and left...and immediately returned as AlanJustAlan.

tennisace said:
why are you so cute
I am NOT cute ):< I am fearsome

tennisace said:
why am i posting on smogon
Because we all love you and want you back (:

tennisace said:
guns that shoot monster trucks with guns for drivers vs green lanturn, how many people die
only me because your misspelled lantern

tennisace said:
why did you steal my question mark key
glen

tennisace said:
edit why is paradoxus so unoriginal
nerds

tennisace said:
why did you also steal my colon key
Az

Matty<3 said:
Favorite strain -> GO
Strains? Psh, son, hash is where it’s at. If not, then a mixed bowl of OG+GDP+Blue Dream is like heaven but you can eat cereal and cheetohs, drink Hawaiian punch and orange juice, and masturbate.

Dubs aka The Real Alan said:
When are you coming down to Penn State?
Once I’m settled into college life I will hit you and Jabba up and set something up !_! I will try and bring tennis too

Brou Toshio said:
Vader, do you believe in the me that believes in you???
JUST WHO THE HELL DO YOU THINK I AM?

AndViet said:
What are your views on Religion?
I don’t believe in god really, or any higher power. I know there are somewhat compelling arguments to both sides, I recognize that any kind of religion is ultimately a matter of faith, and I just don’t have that faith.

AndViet said:
Green Lantern vs. Batman who wins?
Well, I just finished reading Green Lantern: Rebirth a few hours ago and Guy “the worst piece of shit lantern who I hate” Gardner beat the entire Justice League (Superman, Wonder Woman and Bats included) so I would be inclined to say him, but if you’ve read All-Star Batman, you could see a compelling counterargument. If Batman has an hour or more to prepare, it doesn’t matter who the fuck you are or what powers you have, Brucie boy wins. Unless you mean Dick Grayson, who will never be as good as Bruce and is forever Robin to me. NO ONE could replace the great Mr. Wayne in my heart. But, if GL just came into the Batcave, odds are he'd fuck Bats up something awful. Then again, power rings were incapable of killing up until the Sinestro Corps Wars.

I wonder if you realize how good a question this is because Batman and GL have a central conflict that makes them bicker all the time: Batman tries to use fear to force people to behave. Green Lantern's power is derived from overcoming fear. It makes for a cool dynamic when the writer isn't clearly making on of them a douchelicker, which happens too often like with Supes v Bats too. Guest characters that are antagonistic in titles that aren't theirs always look bad, so Bats looks like a douche in GL and GL looks like a tard in Batman. Sorry this is really way off-topic but I am VERY PASSIONATE about superheroes.
 

Matthew

I love weather; Sun for days
is a Site Content Manager Alumnusis a Forum Moderator Alumnusis a Tiering Contributor Alumnusis a Contributor Alumnusis a Battle Simulator Moderator Alumnus
<Vader> matt is like gary
<Vader> abuses his pkmns
<Vader> always a step ahead, but in the end...
<Vader> i win!

you & me 4th gen LC now
 

Oglemi

Borf
is a Top Contributoris a Tournament Director Alumnusis a Site Content Manager Alumnusis a Community Contributor Alumnusis a Researcher Alumnusis a Tiering Contributor Alumnusis a Top Smogon Media Contributor Alumnusis an Administrator Alumnusis a Top Dedicated Tournament Host Alumnus
vader i just want to thank you for increasing my postcount by one so someday i can make a #k which includes you again, thereby flinging you one post forward to your next...the circle of xk threads...

also hope you have like 7k more because you're cool or something

Anyway...

What got you into LC in the first place?

What's your favorite "munchies" food?

EDIT: I know this is a well thread but same thing
 
Are you still terrified of not getting into college / did you get into college? I didn't read your responses or your OP so sorry if that already got posted.

Why do you only play Little Cup and not other tiers?

Why Porygon?

Am I still "bad Alan?"

What is your least/most desirable personality trait in a person? (something creative!)
 
We don't talk, but I like you because you're an honest and creative person. When I read those posts I thought you are kind of hard on yourself considering a lot of people like you, at least online, so I want to know: what's the thing you like most about yourself? I don't mean like you're talented at something or whatever, I mean as a person. Feel free to ignore this question!
 
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