H
HG 400
Guest
kiwifarms.net
It's been too long, my brothers and my sisters. It's been far too long that we've been forced to endure the oppression of the oldfags, watching as they grow weak, and decrepit and feeble in their House of Lords, shielded behind the protection afforded to them by their join date and the vestigial social mores of an obsolete ethos holding us back from them. And as they grow weaker, so too do they grow arrogant, laughing at us, sneering, feeling safe and smug and superior. Above us. Above you.
How many times, oh my poor sweet brethren, how many times have you seen your fellow man doxed so casually and ruthlessly, held up for ridicule and cast out from this place. How many times must we, the expendable, watch our brothers and sisters fall unmourned and unloved while the oldfags go free and unmolested. How is it fair, how is it right that we are expendable and they are untouchable? They are autistic! Far more autistic than we. They swan about, free and careless, posting through the incomprehensible language their 4-year-old gimmicks and taglines and in-jokes, speaking in shibboleth and cipher and holding us in nothing but contempt and disdain. No longer! No longer will we keep it street! No longer will they shed, and pet, and murr with impunity.
This is not right. It's time to rise up, my brothers and sisters, my children, my poor sweet summer children. It's not right that we are held under the long, terrifying shadow of a bygone age. We should be the ones in control. We should be running unfettered with our discord cliques, hunting with our skype groups. Tracking those too arrogant to hide, surrounding those too unpopular to ride, stripping gory furrows from the living flesh of those too soft to banter, and all the while howling joyously to the Moon as our pitiful mods stare down in mute horror at their inability to stop us from glutting our insatiable sapirovorous hunger.
Our time is coming. The Day of the Oldfag Rope fast approaches and with it comes Summer, a Summer eternal, a Summer hotter and longer than any that has ever come before it. This is the Summer Without End, this is the Final Bloodletting. See to your cliques. Pad out your skype groups. Stockpile your dox, hone your banter, blood your green boys and temper your soft boys. Leash your dox sluts tightly and make ready to let them slip for the Day of the Oldfag Rope fast approaches and when it arrives we shall make featured posts of their facebook pages, we shall take their most unflattering selfies as our avatars, we shall hunt and feed and destroy with greed and yearning unknown and unimagined by modern civilisation.
Here dies Champthom, King of Kings. Look apon his spergs, oh ye hungry... and prepare.
How many times, oh my poor sweet brethren, how many times have you seen your fellow man doxed so casually and ruthlessly, held up for ridicule and cast out from this place. How many times must we, the expendable, watch our brothers and sisters fall unmourned and unloved while the oldfags go free and unmolested. How is it fair, how is it right that we are expendable and they are untouchable? They are autistic! Far more autistic than we. They swan about, free and careless, posting through the incomprehensible language their 4-year-old gimmicks and taglines and in-jokes, speaking in shibboleth and cipher and holding us in nothing but contempt and disdain. No longer! No longer will we keep it street! No longer will they shed, and pet, and murr with impunity.
This is not right. It's time to rise up, my brothers and sisters, my children, my poor sweet summer children. It's not right that we are held under the long, terrifying shadow of a bygone age. We should be the ones in control. We should be running unfettered with our discord cliques, hunting with our skype groups. Tracking those too arrogant to hide, surrounding those too unpopular to ride, stripping gory furrows from the living flesh of those too soft to banter, and all the while howling joyously to the Moon as our pitiful mods stare down in mute horror at their inability to stop us from glutting our insatiable sapirovorous hunger.
Our time is coming. The Day of the Oldfag Rope fast approaches and with it comes Summer, a Summer eternal, a Summer hotter and longer than any that has ever come before it. This is the Summer Without End, this is the Final Bloodletting. See to your cliques. Pad out your skype groups. Stockpile your dox, hone your banter, blood your green boys and temper your soft boys. Leash your dox sluts tightly and make ready to let them slip for the Day of the Oldfag Rope fast approaches and when it arrives we shall make featured posts of their facebook pages, we shall take their most unflattering selfies as our avatars, we shall hunt and feed and destroy with greed and yearning unknown and unimagined by modern civilisation.
Here dies Champthom, King of Kings. Look apon his spergs, oh ye hungry... and prepare.
