Now I know why Fourlegged's posts are the way they are:

Why was this post special?

1. It was Yoss' 25,000th post
   
2. It spelled out "twenty five thousand posts" using the first letters of the sentences
   
3. It gained royalty using the post
   
4. July 1st is Yoss' anniversary

*Vixcis suddenly pops near the front of the bus...shes wearing a scanty flight attendent outfit compleate with mini skirt and tiny little hat*
"hello passengers and thank you for choosing time wasters bus tours for your traveling needs, you driver today is a ferret and the meal being serverd tonight is eucalyptus soup. In the likely event of an emergency the exits are near the front of the bus or anywhere you can explode yourself a nice sized hole. In the event of a water landing, my breasts can be used as  floatation devices. We'll be cruising at a nice speed of lord only knows and ariving at our destination sometime between now and never. Please store all koalas in the overhead compartments as they may become shifted or cranky during flight. If you have any problems please don't hesitite to call me over I would be more then happy to help or kill you."

*Throws a roll of toilet paper at Zeldi*

And for goodness' sake, clean up that mess! This bus smells bad enough already without you having shit into reverse all over the driver's seat! :o

When voice recognition software was new and no one had a very good product, much less a product on the market for the general public, I had a programmer friend in the biz who asked if I would help him test a programme he was working on.
Needless to say, after a short time of the computer mis-typing what I was saying I got very (very) frustrated and shouted into the microphone.  What came up on the screen was this:

Far queue bar stewards!

Explanatory Comment: CL had found a "Chronometric Eraser" gun which erases whatever it is pointed at from history and into nonexistence.

We were so boring...hey, pay attention!...we were so boring that...I said, hello!, over here...we were so boring that no one would even...hey, I'm talking here...we were so boring that no one would even listen to a thing we'd say!

Pyromancer
. . .
2. Someone to introduce the flame of love to the circumference of a circle.
. . .

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Spoiler text: (Highlight or hover over the text to view)
In case you couldn't figure that out: Pi-romancer

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Good people don't stalk.  I've followed several of them around for a few months and not one of them showed signs of being stalkers.

Oh oh we better not start humanizing people here.  I picture all of you as monstrously grotesque beasts whose hands have fused to the keyboards.

Don't destroy my world!

Redundancy is...

...saying the same thing over in repetition and saying it again until the same thing has been heard over and over again without saying anything new and repeating something so that it becomes long and old and repetitive and backing up with the same thing so that nothing new can get through to ruin what has already been said over and over.  It is the unnecessary use of either needless, tautological, pleonastic or superfluous text, by which one repeats, in duplication, the same, identical, aforesaid things over and over again, beyond what would be needed or required to explain, or make comprehensible, the intended or signified meaning of that which one wishes to convey.  It is usually common in redundancy to repeat, sometimes with different phrasing or words, the same idea or reasoning, thus restating one's thoughts, sometimes paraphrasing oneself and effectively saying the same thing twice, or double.  And it comes from Lord Alvin Redund, but I myself guess you (the reader) know or understand what I mean here in this sentence that was excessively repetitive to the point of being repetitively excessive. The wording was superfluous, repetitive, and more than required. In the times following, and subsequently, and afterwards, all things, items, speech, text, stuff, and things that are repetitive, superflous, or more than required are called, named, or otherwise denoted as Redundant, because, due to, and as a direct result of Lord Redund's text contained within his correspondence missive letter.

And in case it's not clear, this is the original missive letter from Lord Redund which started the word Redundancy:


Any questions?

To: Team DEC
From: Team INC
Memo: You're going DOWN!

Woo hoo!  I'm number three!  I'm number three! I'm number thr-  That's three posts and the third spot from the bottom.  Never mind.

I think, going by the strict rules of the God Game, there are a lot of "minor" laws of the universe that could used so that a person could never get anything done.

I create Light
I create a world
Wait, you forgot to create photons, you can't create light
I create photons
Wait, you forgot to create electromagnetic lines of force, what are the photons traveling along?
I create electromagnetic lines of force
Woah, you can't just do that, what's creating that force?  You can't just have a force out all by itself originating from nowhere.
I create whatever it is that creates electromagnetic lines of force
Lol, you haven't even created the strong and weak nuclear forces yet!
I create the strong and weak nuclear forces
OMG, but what about giving the electrons spin?
I give the electrons spin
You can't do that, you haven't even created electrons yet
I create electrons
But, now you just had a Big Bang-like explosion as all the negative electrons repeled each other and you forgot to create protons and neutrons.
I create protons and neutrons and tie them in together with the electrons to create atoms
I'm sorry, but the rules clearly state that you can't do so much in a single act of creation.
I create Death
That's just nonsensical, how can you have death when nothing's even lived yet?
I create life
Slow down there, pardner, what sort of life are you creating, how are you animating the body, electric shocks, slipping a soul inside, what?
I create a body
Woah, you can't just do that.  Ex nihilo creation?  You've got to at least whip the body up out of the dirt like in the Bible or use evolution or something.
Shut up
Sorry, but the rules of the game don't allow you to say that to me
I give you a name, you are now the Devil
...ok, I don't have a problem with that.

I smite the Devil with my godly powers
I block the smite with my Devilish powers
I go off to create my own universe to play in
Evil's reach extends everywhere...

Wasted advice is the only type I give.

I used to give advice wasted but the hangovers started to take the fun out of it.

Copier broken, situation being monitored.

Link to the photo: http://i7.photobucket.com/albu...blondesprint-b5b.jpg

You're vote will give me a mandate.  No, not a man date, a mandate... you know, where... oh, forget it.

If Ms. Brill spies on another cow, is it called a steak out?

Whenever I feel blue...I start breathing again.

It's my time
(Oh) it's what I love
Well, it ain't my job
But I wish it was
It ain't no crime
Doin' what you love to do
Hey, it's my time
I can waste it if I want to

This thread will now be automagically redirected to the top of the game.

Look at all the pretty colours

Why do people lose their health trying to obtain wealth, and at the end of their lives spend all their wealth to get back their health?

Who cares about the future, EAT THE COOKIE.

FourLegged, I've been meaning to tell you this, but...

We're actually twins separated at birth. You went to our true parents, while I was stolen away by an Eskimo who was visiting his old college roommate. I grew quickly on the blubber fed to me by my adoptive parents, but I wasn't old enough to walk when I was mistakenly left on the ice on one of my "father's" seal hunting trips. Luckily, a mother polar bear mistook me for her cub, because I was swaddled in white fur and I had a full diaper, and she took me as her own. For many years I lived among the polar bears, until the day I came of age and challenged the tyrannical chieftan of the polar bears for supremacy. After long and fearsome combat, the beast was slain, and the Blubber Crown was bestowed on me. There was a great feast, and many bottles of Coke were passed aound, because polar bears are quite fond of it. It was at this feast that the wise and ancient polar bear seer, Frozen Paw, told me of my true origins. And so, I set out on a quest to find my blood kin, with only my guardian Mr. Biggums at my side. We roamed long and far, we ranged from Phoenix, Arizona all the way to Tacoma, Philadelphia, Atlanta, L.A. In Toronto, I lost an eye to an ornery fry cook, and had it cybernetically replaced, and spent many years as a laundry bounty hunter before returning to my quest. The road was long and arduos, and Mr. Biggums doesn't talk much. I had almost given up hope, when my garbage man suggested this site. I investigated, and chanced upon A Serious Waste of Time. Frozen Paw had told me that a marsupial would show me the way, so when I found you I didn't approach immediately. I watched from afar until it dawned upon me: this eucalyptus-eating creature was my twin brother. Still, I did not approach you with my wondrous news, not wanting to completely shatter your reality. The time has come now though, and here I am, your brother. This is why we look so much alike.

Foucault: The road to hell is paved with reiteration.
FourLegged: You can say that again.

Raz

We shall never forget
the moment we placed
Raz beneath the Earth.

I for one, will always
remember the Raz-bury.

(This post inserted for sheer time wasting purposes)

Canadians shop at Chapters and Indigo.

Bart bumps bloomers bravely.
Bold beings believe before blaspheme.
Big bees buzz busily.
Bears bedevile Billy.
Bam. Bashing bozos blatantly beam.

You work for HP? What, did you roll a tank class with not enough stamina or something? So now you gotta wander the streets holding up a sign saying "Will work for HP"? And how do they pay you anyway? Stamina pills? Health injections? Health enchants on gear? You might not be complaining, but have you had any of your 'pay' inspected? Lots of shady deals go down with cheap stamina pills these days...

That is a dangerous question to ask, Bart. A very dangerous question.

In the 1970s, the US government attempted to answer this very question. They recruited a small cadre of scholars, cinema critics, and random American citizens and had them segregated from the rest of the world with a copy of every movie known to man at the time. The project's leader was a cinema critic named Frank Wagner. Don't bother looking him up on Google, there's nothing of his posted anywhere. After the disasterous results of the project, all mention of anyone on the team was expunged from the public record.

Things started well for the team. They watched six films a day on average, taking notes and comparing them with each other. On Sundays, they took the day off to recharge. Wagner and his team developed, in the space of a few months, a very detailed matrix for testing the worth of a movie. The front runner for quite some time was, from the scattered notes of what's left, Citizen Kane, but this is not a good indicator of what the best movie was, as the team was still watching film from the end of World War II when things went downhill.

While this was happening, the government continued to funnel movies to the team as they were released. Many people point to this as the downfall of the project, because in 1975 a particular film found it's way to the team. The Rocky Horror Picture Show. At this point, the team had been segregated from all outside contact for two years, and were starting get a bit loopy. It was, as far as anyone can tell, the perfect storm for what followed.

What's known from that fateful 72 hours between the first screening of the film and the death of all team members is that, after the first screening, the team realized this film didn't fit their matrix. So they watched it again. And again. At the end of screening six, Wagner proclaimed himself as Dr. Frank N. Furter. At viewing 17, he was killed in a bloody coup against the "tyrannical doctor." In all, the film was screend a total of 52 times in 72 hours according to records, but with a 100 minute running time it's impossible to have had that many screenings. The last team member was found hanging from the ceiling by a pair of stockings. No stockings were known to be owned by any team member. Two team members were missing, although evidence at a barbeque pit suggested cannabilism.

The government covered everything up, and a simple memo was circulated at the highest levels of power to never, ever ask that question again.

Do you think the Kool-Aid man has insurance to cover all the walls he busts down?

Nah. I mean, have you actually looked at what kinds of people we are? Shape-shifting aliens, assorted Earthly animals, a couple of dragons, some D&D monsters, a goddess or two, and assorted other humanoids. Most of us -already- don't wear clothes because it would just be weird.

I mean, can you imagine a beholder trying to wear a pair of pants? Or a dragon in a shirt? *imagines just that and giggles* It'd be pretty funny looking if you ask me!

*Bursts into the room*

WHAT THE @#$*! Why would FL want to hide from me?! Who wouldn't want to be my ally?! Dosen't everyone want to be on my good side?! Have you seen the people on my bad side? Do you visit graveyards often?! And what's wrong with how I show affection?! Dosen't everyone love a good squish?! If I wanted to torture Kagura what makes you think I would do it slow. WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT ME BEING OLD?! Arn't I equally gender biased in my tortures. Dosen't state law say that I have to torture men and women equally?! WHO CALLED ME NICE?!!! What are you trying to hide?!! Don't you know I always read at least to pages back, and that I can hear everything? What was it Magenta said from rocky horror "I see all"? Whose been calling my name?! Don't you know you have to turn out all the lights in the bathroom spin around ten times and say my name three times to summon me?! Did you call me a Yeti!?!! How did this fireball appear in my hand?!

Shouldn't you all be running away by now?...

how come we're voting on posts from last year?