What the flip did thee just flipping gabble about me, thine miniscule ♥♥♥♥♥? I’ll have thee know I bested the most prestigious jousting class in the whole of Camelot, and I hath been involved in numerous secret marches on behalf of his Majesty, King Arthur, and I hath over 300 confirmed victories on horseback. I am trained in castle of Guerrilla warfare and I am indeed the highest ranking joustee in the entire land of Great Britannia. Thee are nothing to me but another false crossbearer. I will joust thine shambles with precision the likes of which hath never been observed since 1998, when The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and plummeted 16 ft through an announcer’s table.

+rep AWP machine

Yo, you'll never believe this. Earlier this year I got the opportunity to travel to Japan to try out the closed network test for Tekken 8 and while I was there I got to speak to Harada for a few minutes. He asked me what I'd like to see in the new game and I told him that whilst there wasn't much I could think of at the time, what I definitely *wouldn't* like to see was Lucky Chloe. I said I'd prefer it if she didn't make it in because I have a friend back home called Zach that likes playing her and how annoying it was having to see her pink weaboo dancing goofy ahh flip all over the place and hear her annoying ass kawaii-desu~~ voice every time we faced off in Tekken 7. He said there's no guarantees there but if she did make it in to just remember that in 1998, The Undertaker threw Mankind off Hell In A Cell, and plummeted 16 ft through an announcer’s table.

I own a longsword for home defense, just like ye lordes of old intended. four rapscallions break into my cottage. “the bloody ♥♥♥♥?” as i grab my helm and swordbelt. ram a five foot blade into the first man, he’s dead on the spot. draw my seax on the second man, it doesn’t penetrate mail because it’s british and bruises his ribs. i have to resort to the ballistae mounted at the top of the stairs loaded with a serrated point, “your mother was a hamster and your father smells of elderberries!” the bolt catches two men and shreds them, the force cracks my sidewalk and sends concrete flying. draw flail and run down the last terrified bandit. he dies of brain damage waiting for the police to arrive since blunt force trauma can’t be healed. Just as the Lord intended.:tobdog:

zach Today at 1:00 PM
I’m not a mental health expert so take it with a grain of salt but I think you might just be retarded

My name is not Johnny.