Pointless Announcements

Educate yourself.

 

In that case: YES, YOU ARE THAT MEAN.

 

Uh, I'm not comfortable with this line of joke. It's like making fun of Mother Teresa or something. She's just so... wholesome.

 

Uh-huh, right. I'm pretty sure the "back channels" consist of monitoring Dave Orion's attempts to create covert accounts, a thread like "Plan9: Will this motherfucker ever shut up?" and the staff-only version of TFP user Hot Or Not, which was probably started by a drunken the_jazz last year.

 

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-+-{Important TFP Staff Message}-+- This thread has been closed because Plan9 has apparently started hacking staff accounts. Next time is a banning, big guy.

 

I'm not sure Plan9 can hack much...

 

Just your face.

/Baraka Greyru

 

He'd better not be wasting his time hacking ANYTHING, he needs to be READING

 

GG, I think that you did more than enough damage to the guy the last time around. Can't you be the bigger person this time around and just let it be? Please? You know, the last time you took Baraka_Guru to the woodshed he had a full head of Fabio-like hair, muscles like Stallone and was smoother than Morris Day. Now look at him.

I think you've already done enough damage.

 

Basically.

I'm the sole reason why all the good people left 4.0, why TEx is empty and why the staff take four Nuprin every time they get a cup of coffee.

 

FTFY
--- merged: Aug 8, 2012 at 4:42 PM ---

More along the lines of "why the terrorists hate us". Which explains Lish and Remixer.

 

Word.

 

last night, i finally located some papers i had been looking for.
they came from an archive. they are meetings held by a revolutionary marxist group in 1949-50.
everyone who attended was terribly world-historical.
the papers are covered in handwriting that occupies a special place in the pantheon of illegibility.
i tried holding the papers very far away.
i tried holding the papers closer.
i tried holding the papers near a bowl of pasta.
i tried holding the papers in places that did not include a bowl of pasta.
i turned lights up and held them.
i turned the lights down and held them.
i tried to read them while along the upper edge people were running up a track.
i tried to read them with the television off.
finally i decided to add a gin and tonic and repeated all the procedures above.
jerry springer hosted baggage near the papers i could not read.
this morning, i looked at the papers over coffee.
i looked at them later in the morning.
i looked at them over lunch.
i looked at them later in the afternoon.
i was looking at them just now.
i have no fucking idea what they say.