cardassiansunrise:

unmutekurloz:

phanstop:

wontforgets:

snowwanderer:

jeanqueerschtein:

kohai-san:

fuck-you-im-australian:

mr-egbutt:

residentevils:

when u accidently type me instead of my 

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accidentally typing “yeha” instead of “yeah”

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accidentally typing olay instead of okay

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accidentally typing “oy” instead of yo

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accidentally typing “god” instead of “good”

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accidentally typing ‘thy’ instead of ‘they’

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accidentally typing “beliebe” instead of “believe”

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typing “hte” instead of “the” 

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typing “laso” instead of “also”

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typing “oaky” instead of “okay”

sindri42:

prokopetz:

prokopetz:

Concept: a D&D campaign where every party member has been co-opted or replaced by some sort of hostile intelligence; e.g., the fighter has been possessed by a ghost, the wizard is being mind-controlled by her sapient magic ring, the rogue is actually a shapeshifting blob-monster who devoured the original and stole her form and memories, and so forth. Each of them is totally unaware of the others, and believes itself to be the only monster in a group of unwitting human adventurers.

  • The warlock has been infested by a demonic fungus; her ridiculous hat conceals the giant mushroom growing from the top of her head.
  • The barbarian is a lizardman who fell victim to a botched reincarnation spell and regenerated as a human.
  • The druid was actually killed weeks before the party met, and is being expertly impersonated by three dire raccoons in a trenchcoat.
  • No one knows that the bard’s deal is; she seems perfectly normal to every physical and supernatural test, but pings to detect aberration.

Dicking Around

kaisermakes:

Storytime!

Halloween a few years back my mates and I were dressed up for Halloween and my cat furry roommate (good guy, furries are entertaining folks) was wearing his partial suit out with us. We were in Boston proper and all of us were on a budget at the time, so the only option for a late night drink and dinner open to us was a place called Dick’s Last Resort. 

If you’ve never been, the big draw at Dick’s is that they’re dicks to you.  The staff are sarcastic, they throw your menus and straws and shit at you, and they make you hats that say mean stuff. 

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I don’t get it either. So anyways, we’ve got – I’ll call him Frank – the cat with us, and Frank’s 100% ready to go fuck with Dicks,

so we head on in.

The waitress starts doing her bit, but the cat in the room has thrown off her game and she doesn’t really know how to handle Frank in Full Cat mode. 

He points out the drink he wants without speaking, with a paw, on the menu and she asks for an ID and starts saying ‘I swear to god your ID better have a big fuckkin’ cat on it or-“

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She threw his licence back at us and walked away speechless. Didn’t talk to us the rest of the evening.

Anyways, I dug up this old photo today and thought it deserved to be preserved for posterity.  So here you go, the day Frank broke Dicks.