Judging by the time this has been dead, you're not going to be banned. Your house is going to be bombarded with 20 meter long tungsten poles from orbit.
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Your friendly neighborhood, mentally unstable, delusional Trekkie!
"The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will someday venture to the stars." -Carl Sagan
All my posts are required reading for NSA agents.
Your friendly neighborhood, mentally unstable, delusional Trekkie!
"The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will someday venture to the stars." -Carl Sagan
All my posts are required reading for NSA agents.
(( No, this is the biggest necro ever. (Please don't ban me).
The memories! It was a good time being Hitlpoleon about 4 years ago.
This'll probably be my actual last post here. ))
A man walks through the dust at the archaeological site. Half-buried in the ground, he notices an old journal, preserved over centuries by the dry sands. Opening it delicately, he reads "Diary of Akhir Thressmen, Chief Army General of the Malkrantian High Council of MIlitary Leaders". Studying the hardly legible script, he begins to uncover the histories, the stories, of long-forgotten nations.
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My current avatar is: Raistlin Majere from the Dragonlance novels.
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Curse PremiumYour friendly neighborhood, mentally unstable, delusional Trekkie!
"The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will someday venture to the stars." -Carl Sagan
All my posts are required reading for NSA agents.
Your friendly neighborhood, mentally unstable, delusional Trekkie!
"The sky calls to us. If we do not destroy ourselves, we will someday venture to the stars." -Carl Sagan
All my posts are required reading for NSA agents.
lol sorry I have Oppositional Defiance Disorder- honestly.
Dragons click you!
(( No, this is the biggest necro ever. (Please don't ban me).
The memories! It was a good time being Hitlpoleon about 4 years ago.
This'll probably be my actual last post here. ))
A man walks through the dust at the archaeological site. Half-buried in the ground, he notices an old journal, preserved over centuries by the dry sands. Opening it delicately, he reads "Diary of Akhir Thressmen, Chief Army General of the Malkrantian High Council of MIlitary Leaders". Studying the hardly legible script, he begins to uncover the histories, the stories, of long-forgotten nations.