hey aesf haha! anyways TI pls have better timing on when to be a literal 4 year old in a grown ass man's body, we all have fucking nothing to do and this is the most fun any of us have had since quarantine started.
Sorry fellas, the Bakugan mafia has decided to delete OMs altogether. You lost your privileges to play anything but OU. Oddly enough, since you clowns can’t classify 1v1, the mafia didn’t delete that. Play 1v1 today! Witness the wonderful community that absurdly hit #2 on best rooms, as well as turned The Immortal into the person they are today. The mafia also decided that DPP MnM and Gen1 NFE are allowed.
P.S. The Bakugan mafia also said you should all give me $45 dollars for the mafia potluck.
Me: scrolls through this shitstorm trying to figure out what the hell is going on.
Me two seconds later: wait another 3 pages just got added what the fuck
Me finally reaching the end and starting to write this: wait MORE MESSAGES WHY WHY WHY I HATE HAVING UNREAD STUFF GOD WHY
hi guys, a bit disappointed that i didn’t get picked as manager but i’m pumped for another great opportunity to compete in my favorite metagame, balanced hackmons! looking forward to another great ompl!
"Unfortunate" doesn't begin to describe this thread, this thread rewards blind memeing and nothing else, I am beyond convinced at this point. After getting completely tooled by this thread with posters changing times on me last minute and refusing to provide confirmation prior to the day of the match as to play times, losing this way somehow felt even worse than I had thought possible. My posts were superior, my memes was superior, and I lost the reaction score battle, so I don't see a reason to continue engaging in an activity where what is within my control is overwhelmingly outweighed by what is not. I am done with competitive shitposting, and you won't get a fond farewell. This thread is infected to its roots with a degenerative disease that grows stronger over time but stops short of killing its host. Shitposting used to have a competitive spirit at their heart, this has been transplanted and replaced with an artificial organ that feeds on vitriol and mockery from insecure little boys that heckle by the sidelines and tear each other to shreds over scraps of attention. The environment we fostered has trapped us all like this in a vicious cycle, and escaping it requires acceptance of the harshest reality we all scramble to explain away, that none of the countless straining efforts we put ourselves through here will ever amount to one single shining glimmer of significance. I would make this the end, but Brazil infested CPL is still ongoing, and I would never leave so many great shitposters out to dry, so I'll suffer through a few more games for them. One last thing before I leave you all to react with disdain, ridicule, and self-righteous fervor, before you do everything in your power to minimize my words and thoughts, box them up and shove them to some cobwebbed corner of your memory, and hope they disappear forever as a stain on your finite time ground to dust. From this moment on, nothing you say matters to me. The foulest insults you hurl with intent to wound will calmly settle at the earth before my feet, and the venom you spit will bring all the pain of a warm summer breeze. You are less than anything you can conceive, while I carry on, brimming with joy distilled from detachment.