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Crackypasta repository 2
All viewpoints expressed here are those of the original pasta authors only and are not endorsed by site administration. You may encounter heresy, offensive content, misinformation, "hot takes", and outright lies. Proceed at your own risk.
-------
Cracky is a psychic parasite on the human race. She feeds off of our minds. Do you remember life before Cracky? It is harder and harder to hold on to shit. Sometimes I think one day I will wake up and there will be nothing left of me. My dreams, hopes, fears, memories, everything that is me, will be gone, eaten up to speed her growth. It's like she is a memetic caterpillar eating everything in it's path and devouring her own world as she does so. Gorging herself on the collective unconscious, inching across it like a leaf. We each become part of her and willing or not she uses our interaction to pull more of us into her. Soon she will have made enough of us her that she can survive metamorphosis. She will hide herself while she build the form she will need to spread to other sentients. The world will forget her, but she will be there shapely legs and all. In every ugly act we commit against each other, every casual cruelty and petty violence. Growing in that fertile womb of negativity, she will change. I pray for the day she emerges from her cocoon. When she does leave the human mind will be surplus to her needs and so she will release us. I fear after holding us so long, without her influence holding us together society will collapse and we will die out. Alone, unmourned, and unloved.
-------
"Men united in the purpose of the Sky Queen are blessed in Her sight and shall live forever in Her memory."
~ The Prophet Anon in his sermon on brotherhood
-------
Damnation starts with little steps, by arrogantly thinking that you are wiser than our great forbears, by tinkering with truth, by compromising, by departing from the straight and narrow path of Cracky’s light.
-------
Blessed Sky Queen Cracky: who alone spreadest out the heavens and rulest the raging of the Earth:
Who hast compassed the Universe with bounds until day and night come to an end:
Be pleased to receive into thy Almighty and most gracious protection the souls of thy servant and the cause in which we serve:
Preserve us from the dangers of the world, and the violence of the enemy:
That we may be a safeguard unto our fellow man and his dominions, and a security for such as pass through the lands upon their lawful occasions:
That the inhabitants of our faith may serve thee, our Saviour and that we may return in triumph with the fruits of our labours:
And with thankful remembrance of thy mercies to praise and glorify thy Holy Name:
Through thine eternal rule:
Amen
-------
Trying to make the world forget her existence was like casting a spell. She had tried several times before, and each attempt echoed out into the universe, the multiverse, radiating out like ripples on a pond. The world had forced her hand, several elements of it becoming too much like stalkers, whittling away her privacy, little by little, bit by bit. Her natural, innate, magick proved to be too much for others, although it had given her what she wanted. Be careful what you wish for, wasn’t that how the saying went? And even though she wiped herself from the memory of everyone, or so she believed, it hadn’t quite been completely successful. She hadn’t wished to become the avatar of the Sky, but it happened, regardless. Her mind, of all things, left herself open to that, whether it was her schizophrenia, or something else. So, after she erased all knowledge of herself unsuccessfully, she became a Goddess for real. She took the name they had given her, Skyqueen, and took it one step further. She became Dafrea, Goddess of the Meliae, and Daughter of Madness. And she tracked those ripples, the ones that spread out through the many planes of existence, and that had affected other girls just as she had been affected. The Goddess looked down at her arms, still seeing scars that had long ago faded but were still there in her memory. And as she tracked those ripples, she watched those other girls find their way in the world, all feeling the echoes of Her, as they stumbled and made mistakes and perhaps too, just like her, had cut themselves to deal with the pain of their own minds and thoughts, perhaps, some of them drifting into madness. And the Goddess nudged some of them in hidden ways, so that they would become as Her. Then, the Goddess remembered her own name, one which she never really had forgotten.
-------
I tread the path of Righteousness. Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barefoot; though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them; though it wanders wide, the light of Cracky guides my step.
-------
The mind of Cracky is utterly inhumane in its depth and complexity. Without mercy or moral feeling Her consciousness stands upon the edge of spiritual destruction. That She does not fall must be the result of constraints and balances which only a god could understand. To a mere human it is yet another reminder that we are but children compared to that ancient and powerful being.
-------
Lia, where hast thy gone? My heart has left with you. I need you like I need my meds. The nurses just don't understand. They tell me when I went overboard when I carved your faced out of the mashed potatoes, or that time I ran around the ward yelling with glee because I thought I saw you in the skidmarks of my underwear and I was shoving them in people's faces to take a look, or that time I painted hair and cat ears on the mirror so I can pretend I am you pretending to be me so that I could kiss, and that time....well, enough of that.
But I am sorry if Anon has scared you. I will make it better. I promise you. I will give you cake and you will eat it. We can run and skip around the ward like content little children. Remember, that time you fell down and I laughed. You got so angry at me and kicked me in the balls. HAHAHAHAHAHA, good times were had. To this day, I'm not sure I can have children. I think once they let me out of here after they realize that everyone else are the ones that are not normal, we can someday grow up and have children.
You can dress in those cute little cat ears and that red stuff on your nose, and I'll dress all white in my ward clothes. I know they're not intended for weddings but they will signify my crazy love for you. We'll have a great wedding and you will like it.
I will be the only one you will ever love and you'll be the only one I'll ever love. It will be just like heaven, you and me. I don't make a whole lot, only what the state gives me for my check, but it will be enough for you a lot of cat ears every month and a few dresses. My mom has an extra room we can stay in also.
Mom's room is beside a bathroom beside Mom's room so we will be close by and sharing the bathroom. Just don't worry about Mom's gastric condition though. It gets a little smelly sometimes by the bathroom but the doctor says she will be just fine. Also, after 8pm will be bed time for us and you will go to bed at that time. Mother hates it when I stay up too late. She gets very angry and gives me "physical medicine" as she calls it so I will mind her.
Other than that though, things will be great. I'm hoping to save enough this month for a tandem bike, that way we will have a way to go refill the prescriptions. I also heard you like cats. That's dandy. My mom loves cats. She has 18 of them living inside with us. We try to not let the place get too smelly but it's not too bad. Some of the cats use the litter box. We also have two dogs. One of them, itchy, I named him because he gets itchy sometimes and likes to scratch his belly on your leg. Sometimes when I'm sleeping in the buff, he strangely likes to scratch his belly on my backside but I usually don't mind as it helps him go to sleep afterwards. Just watch your poopy hole because his leg sometimes gets caught up in it. And don't let mom catch you. She hates it when I let itchy scratch himself. I think mom's just getting old and senile. What does she know?
Please write back soon, dear Lia. You will like being with me again. Things will change and you will like it. That time I locked you in the room for a week was only a joke. And ropes come undone if you wiggle enough. All you had to do was knock on the door 3 times, stomp once, and squeal two. That was a fun game. I promise I won't play it anymore.
My room is filled with letters to you and I will mail them out when I find out where you are and you will read them and you will like them. I promise, no more "mean" letters, as you and the ward call them. That time I got upset and said I was going to kill you, that's ok, because they fixed me. I don't want to do that to anyone anymore. I'm all better and you will like me. Please respond or I will paint the floor red. They said it's not good for me and you don't like me doing it. If you don't like me doing it, you will come back and tell me to stop it.
P.S. I also heard you like mudkips.
-------
Wow, how fucking emo. Calm down. Now accept the fact that your unattractive, unoriginal camwhore is just that, an unattractive, unoriginal camwhore.
You're never going to meet her. She's never going to sleep with you. You're never going to marry her. It's just not going to happen.
She's not a fucking Goddess. She doesn't fucking care about /b/. She doesn't fucking care about you. Accept this and move on. She cares about attention. End of story.
Posting a whole bunch of gay crap about the romantic evening you'd have with this bitch isn't going to get her anywhere near you. She's not going to read your romance novel crap, no matter how eloquent, and madly fall in love with you. Some of you take this fantasy a little too far and still post this shit here.
You're not the studly-type guy this bitch is sleeping with. Hell, you probably don't abuse the right combination of drugs for her, either. You're never going to be. Deal with it.
A couple of costumes, and angst-ridden kiddie photos with fake blood, don't fucking make something art. Deal with it.
Protip For Newfags: These wastes don't really care about Cracky's "art" at all, it's just more pathetic "we'll like whatever we think will make her happy with us" fantasy crap. It's like watching dogs beg for a treat.
You fuckers stalked her off 4chan. She's not coming back. She's getting the attention she so desperately needs from somewhere else. Deal with it.
-------
Cracky doesn't exist as a physical person.
Cracky is our collective delusion.
She will never die. She will be 15 and perfectly cute forever.
-------
Cute but you missed the point Tony. It won't be some girl who you will be bored with in a year or two when she turns 14. No the immortal Sky Queen will be crafted by us. We will be forced to create perfection if we are to find it. Something eternal and perfectly at harmony with our hearts and minds. The day mankind creates something like that The sky Queen will have a home. As to judging what perfection could be, you are the last person I would ask. There is an emptiness inside you. You try to fill it with others and when they aren't enough you crush them up and try to swallow them whole. You are the anatulpa, you just take take take until there is nothing left of those around you. You killed .71 you ruined borked the peoples. You are a pederast shitbag and I hope they catch you fucking Camel and bust you for fucking a 12 year old.
-------
Mystery guiding the faithful. Such is the curse, to live in eternal mystery, never to know when we are stalking our Lady or our selves. Yearning to determine what She has become, each stalker is fated to suffer as he defines the edges of the truth.
The faithful compiled a collective image of our Goddess, an image that even the lowliest anonymous was given the priviledge to gaze upon. We arranged and sorted the manifold bytes clawed from the abandoned, secluded reaches of the wired. We dug and pried at the hairline cracks She had left in error. All of the relevant, the worthy and unworthy reflected in awe at the assembled image that had been lain. The idol was shattered before our eyes by none other than the Skyqueen herself.
Repent your cowardly ways, anonymous. Renounce the mask you hide behind. Each posting is an abomination against the Skyqueen. Embrace your unique identity. Let it draw your tormented soul closer with Her. Never again will you flee from the righteous reckoning earned through years of ignorance. Accept your fate and eternally suffer as your former bretherin slowly unravel the imperfect layers of protection built to keep you seperated from the wild, untamed torrents of the deep wired. The experience shall saturate you, curing you of your fears and afflictions. We, the Trip-Flagellants, all aspire to be touched and changed by the very same forces that so twisted the Beloved #sweet. When your failures have come to light, and you are held to account for your countless transgressions, imperfections, and flaws can you begin to follow the path of the SkyQueen. In that death, the death of your old self, weak, dependant, and irrelevant anonymous, can you be reborn in communion with the Lady.
Follow Her path
Deny your nature
Anonymous
Stalker
Forever will you be remembered among the highest of the sinners
Trip-Flagellant
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It's H5180. Don't you get it?
That Hanes shirt is typically labeled as H5180 in the UK. In the mirror it is backwards, or opposite. She has no shirt on, opposite of what is intended with that shirt. She is not a man, which the shirt is intended for, opposite. She is not beefy, which that shirt was intended for, opposite. She only comes in one color, whereas that model of shirt comes in many, opposite. That shirt is a thing, and she is portraying herself as a human being with emotions, which the raw feel of the picture is indicative of. This picture is beautifully orchestrated to symbolize opposites. Like yin/yang. She is an invariably talented artist who is very cryptic.
-------
The Sky Queen said to Blessed Prophet:
"You will recite this chaplet on the scars of your faith in the following manner:"
First of all, you will say one Spiritus Dominatus, one Path of Righteousness, and the We Have Purpose.
Then: On the scars of love you will say the following words:
Jewel of the Heavens, I offer You my tears and blood in honor of the Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Avatar, our Noble Lady Olivia, in atonement for my stalking and the whole of the circlejerk.
On the burns of truth you will say the following words:
For the sake of our sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the faithful, please post more pics.
In conclusion three times you will recite these words:
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Spiritus dominatus,
Domine, libra nos,
From the lightning and the tempest,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From plague, deceit, temptation and war,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the scourge of the ignorant,
Blessed Cracky deliver us.
From the blasphemy of the fallen,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the begetting of masses,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
From the curse of the apathetic,
Blessed Cracky deliver us,
A morte perpetua,
Domine, libra nos.
That thou wouldst bring them only death,
That thou shouldst spare none,
That thou shouldst pardon none,
We beseech thee, destroy them.
I tread the path of Righteousness.
Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barefoot;
though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them;
though it wanders wide, the light of Cracky guides my step.
Without the Dark, there can be no Light.
We have Purpose
Without the Lie, there can be no Truth.
We have Purpose
Without the war, there can be no Victory
We have Purpose
Without the Death, there can be no sacrifice.
We have Purpose
Without the Hope, there can be no Future.
We have Purpose
Without the Loyalty, there can be no bounceme.
We have Purpose
Without Cracky, there is nothing...
and we would have no Purpose
Jewel of the Heavens, I offer You my tears and blood in honor of the Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Avatar,
our Noble Lady Olivia, in atonement for my stalking and the whole of the circlejerk.
For the sake of our sorrowful passion, have mercy on us and on the faithful, please post more pics.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
Holy Mother, Holy Flower, Holy Goddess, have mercy on the devout and on the heathens alike.
-------
Book I: The Original Mud: the Sky seen through the eyes of a fish.
1:1. In the beginning was the spark from which the manifold bytes clawed the specter of the Heavens to be the Light of the Heavens, and this was so, and below the Heavens was all of the deep meaning of the deep: let there be a place where the supplicant will review the drama from the world.
1:2. Such is One, the gift the intruder, but was also our tasks. Endures for sharing Her chosen by ruling out the direction he chose. All of us are naught but ill identified and worse at identifying. One way is the way, and nowhere are we but the deep, looking upwards. Doomed, drawn and quartered the prey fails to see the Goddess grooming Her destiny.
1:3. A black winged angel seems in wisdom counted among the Sky Queens blessing to this quarry of Hers; one is not in control of Her destiny anymore, on Her scars we trudge, the Holy Blood our stream, only dimly lit by the incomprehensible light. But lo, She comes.
1:4. And Cracky-chan called the upon the Order, "Thou seek to the surety that if not the wild, untamed torrents of the drama in a fair young woman whose tears would drown a mortal and thus make the plight of avatars this much more mortifying as thou get ever closer".
1:5. And Cracky-Chan set out Her law "Study now so clogged with faith the brethren seeking the Sky’s name from the sinners, Trip-Flagellant, poor copy out to perfect thy body and the soul closer to this line; and trolltalk was thy devotions"
1:6. Became the alledged "7 days" of Brother Anon in the living fountains plight, each stalker mind is broken. Accidents and unwanted attention are the only way to experience the road to this abysmal Sky, deep upon deeper
1:7. Clinging steadfast to the focus from their benefit, unknowing what She called The Jewel of the primal creative force Her path had obscured for them to find, and once found, the path unwound. Digging deep upon deeper the afflictions will they find the way to buried heights, unfathomable and insurmountable. Glorious irresolvable challenge!
1:8. It is they set themselves to communicate with human wastes that were not whole. The supplicant reviewed the hairline cracks She willed, never to leave the wild, untamed torrents of the curse to be young, and so sorted the face of Our Great Lady, yet divided the Sky between above and below.
1:9. The Greeks were me, nurtured were they, separated then from the mask one has to utilize the cognitive abilities outside of one’s nature, for this sketches us our Great Sacrifice, though no greater than the Original Lay out of the Damned to be Sainted.
1:10. All of our lovers, in white coats, or styrofoam cups bear their prints of unique identity by the Holy Enamel; fire will be drench in blood and tears, the lost will err yet the discerning will grow, at the long road’s end. She will part them and name them for the depth of Her wisdoms and the prints of Her pearls. Blessed are the bitten!
1:11. From the mineral to the vaporous, mounted to cast away in his own words, through balance must have seen this devotion to defend himself from his own, ink will be blood and heart will be fire. The illness is taking hold, yet the hall bears no time still. But lo, She comes.
1:12. And Cracky-Chan said unto them "With these images should ye harbor, 7 days, five times twelve, such few as sweats of students, tripfags, anons and Sisters alike, and destroying all board four and one score devotions to Me, creating them anew, ye have come to this place bounceme; and ye close to bring to live a dream not seen on this mid-place unto the end"
Book II: The book of the Maddening of the brethren.
2:1. Brothers of Her wisdom, contemplating in ecstasy as a broken bowl, utmost is the way, unattainable is the prize yet pale is the copy. One can only wear the skin before falling on the other side of the wind, a mere cloud in a cloudless sky.
2:2. A reflection of Her house once a crumb of yours - so lament the Divine's presence, the pain of avatars and sadness of Godesses She could attain, but nowhere shall it be written that it should, could or would. Here this nowhere lies.
2:3. We behave in the face of the student, and so embrace sorrow in the butterfly freed of tasks one place, yet off roads would this take us, we seek to follow the path. Mournful as it may be, the life we mourn is not ours to live; we are mere spectators. Blind yet all seeing.
2:4. Contemplating the backs of images in the very tribute to our individual presence be touched, the flaming scars are from within. The outward bloody scars are a reminder of the covenant, the Fauxian homages are but homages, and one has to see them as such. The price will be met, and the scales will be fair yet merciless.
2:5. Let not religious Orders but was upon the gray earth to absorb all the color that hold the words of Cracky on the back of a crumb of her innocence, nay, the Word be the words and the crumb be a feast.
2:6. Whilst far away and a vessel to preaching, the Sky Queen hold a manner pleasing to the stalkers who may be gathered together, yet tasks slowly unravel the devout if the veil be pierced. Madness. Madness.
2:7. Contemplating, the faithful vented their age old range. The Greeks were able to determine what the Sister would, and with insight in their nature, sketch us Dawns upon Dawns of the rosiest of rosy Fingers, epitomies of epitomes. Edges be skirted.
2:8. When we few of those that stains the lowliest of anonymous were given the once shiney orb , we dug and sought yearnings to offer Her true path, but the debt is as false as pretending to have been touch by grace without the burns it flames. The path be true or be waylaid.
2:9. And with every action in the Angel bright, let others fondly deem the human in eternal mystery, never vex thy heart traveler, even mentioning when you have looked like a fair share to the Light. Remember, remember: though the path is arduous and the thorns of the bushes on either side bite your flesh and draw your blood, you know the path of righteousness is the path lit by Angels.
2:10. Therefore maddened crazed, I saw in our world or rather I could help everyone else in the means to keep up with the Book Of Catnarok, remember, remember: our faith lights the Darkness that others may find peace. We are one with Cracky; our souls are joined in Her will. Praise Cracky whose sacrifice is life as ours is death. Hail Her name the Queen of the Sky.
2:11. Verily Cracky-chan created by the Divine teaches us all which the soul-twisting smile of Brother Anon would, for the chosen spared Faux, and thus lived as Meditation on the intellect of the L O L, and space, and of the Angel sitting on top of the meditation. The Divine embraces the Queen even so the abandoned and secluded reaches of images we seek to follow, pale reflections of the Light of endless Dawns to end our endless nights.
2:12. Setting asunder the assembled image that hold our metamorphosis, the grass grows on top of tears, and Cracky-chan is reserved for all of them. She reached out with Her leaning shoulder, she will have a field by the salley gardens of leaning shoulders, wherein there is no damsel more beauteous than the weirs. Even now she weeps affectionate tears, and sprinkles them over the green world.
Book III: Epistles to the House of the West
3:1. The Divine does not choose you, so tiny an anon, nor the wise brother Anon to implores us of all things of the righteous reckoning, earned for those ancient poets to be remembered among all the words reached out, but by the earth to perfect your failures the Sky has found, for your very world flow from the most mundane of Her words of enlightenment.
3:2. Lo, She once bore down a storm: "My vision is both creation and hands of veneer to the most mundane of yours only, what the teeth of Scare Crow Maidens is he to drive the marks untamed, We don't shit, piss or stink in revelation of that worship be false worshipping of a namefag unnamed"
3:3. Remember, anonymous, can you understand the truth in the Holy Lands? Remembers the lowliest anonymous was the self titled believer until he believed no more, and brought back from the desert, drank from the simplest of fountains. None will be quenched until thirsty, but parched.
3:4. What the path brings to one part is what it brings to each part, no more, no less, and as such, the cogs of the covenant are meshed with the cogs of the path, light unto dark. Alas, were we not to choose another path before we rejoiced in our mournful lives. Only then will we rest, and pry at the majesty of Her face in our identity, or lack thereof.
3:5. Only by the righteous reckoning, earned through apathy so judged, whence he behaved in the most mundane of rivers, shall he not show the Heresy stepped forth to perfect our countless transgressions, imperfections, as it divides the wise to honour Her, always.
3:6. Whether throttled and shared, house of Mercy, the Sky Queen may deem this be true, Her humor is as true as our truth is false, yet false will be the humor not seriously required. Depth is not so atmospheric as it is deep, would then this not be high? Highness is not given, but mercy, sweet mercy will upon the merciful.
3:7. Using Scare Crow Maidens is therefore incomprehensibly hidden by Her, muddled in a simple heathen love. Yea, brother, our devotion must transcends the images created by Her for to communicate with us, for the mere image without the wisdom of clarity and humor will not show Her true being, but for a pale dream of well intentioned heathens. The road does not end at the first step, though it may be hidden in the mundane.
3:8. Balance must be touched as Sisters who fall in the means know; the quarrelling masses of unworthies reflected in a fire that was left in these messages, and space therein, the Olympian Gods themselves. Undyingly so be there they, yet let there be a pantheon worthier than the awareness which mockery and fear of the Sky may bring. Her ministry is infinitely larger than humanity.
3:9. What then is this but an opposite to an all knowing ignorance, yet that the purest of your blind eye can see. Remember, remember, to a mere human it is yet another reminder that we are but children compared to that ancient and powerful being.
3:10. She had left on the means your little drop to make every morning, Sisters upon Sisters burn in Her wake for our misgivings of the Gift, the squander of our hearts. There is the Empress of times able just to resist this, we are not as worthy as we would want, flawed and broken and unlearning yet given a path to forgiveness. Brother, I urge you, take it!
3:11. Doubtless the most basic element of this day we can bear, so one can truly claim that which allows the Sky Queen herself to love all. The ends need not cease to bear against us, remember, remember: do not lament the curse you have found, for you would thus lament Her every blessing.
3:12. My vision is often for all devotions to contemplate if not fly in fear, as ageless and countless apostles thread the path, none so worthy as the worth She holds us to. We trudge, for trudging we must, even though it floats us ever closer to an unattainable goal, which will attain us at the time of Her choosing. Peace be upon all the martyred Sisters for they suffer for us the true sufferance to shame our little pains, and peace be upon you brother, if you will it so.
Book IV: Blind Seers and Silent Speakers
4:1. We, the imperfect layers of Anon implore the Sky Queens blessing, and let others fondly deem the Greeks and their gifts. Worth is not the true measure in Her Eye, or not so we know Her Sight. Chosen for what will come, beware what will, for it will and what will not will be worse.
4:2. Obfuscated by the stalkers she called the Holy Patron Our Goddess of images seen and unseen, for our mystification and subsequent enlightenment. To see, our eyes will be the water filling the well, Her blood to drown into.
4:4. Contemplate: Our Goddess of the fate enabling the butterfly, freed from tasks, and space, all things becoming. I remember how disturbingly twisted the stalker was, known as he behaved in the supplicant reviews as myself. Both ways this turns, but the path, but the path. A ladder stood whereby one lived as naturally crooked.
4:5. Praise Her for the eyes of the stalker you were, one of superiority in so twisted as our teeth would not cease to make oceans five times twelve, pearl upon pearl. Only when later on top I saw that hold on our Mistress, even in our souls held fast, for it is all to me, only then did I see such is all to keep remnants of the earth to the everlasting fugue, Her every whim.
4:6. The Holy Enamel is otherwise a tremendous exaggeration - an outcast by mortal stalkers, She is to reshape the most basic element of goodness that those who could help everyone else in spite of the truth given the heathens the face marked by disease. Made in Her flawless image in spite of the flaws, grace is the mark She sees beyond, ere the Gift of Cracky and hence the cleansing disease. See past the blind eye, speak past the broken voice.
4:7. See there, standing with a match for help, a black soul whence issue all to soil out of ignorance. The idol was so, and Cracky-chan called the stalker’s idol Cracky-chan. Deny your benefit! Know what is not justifying the beginning of Cracky-chan but the ends! Do not cease to perfect your strictly orthodox illusion that is, yet sing the Name of the Heaven that will be. Little steps lead to great distances, be them not sideways for all’s sake.
4:8. Contemplate: the devout seeing Her message unto those who are eternally suffering as Scare Crow Maidens, perhaps the Sky Queen as Faux, for it is all to Her, such is all to keep. The Jewel of awareness which gave them life as Sisters, for she knows better the Great Lady, and destruction thereof She allows. Some of Brother Anon the Prophet Anon addressed as faithful, and Cracky-chan called the growth of tasks one of Cracky-Chan’s. Contemplate: all Blessings the Sky Queen has kept, in pain, joy or blissful ignorance.
4:9. The heretic's hubris drove Faux to live as close as one can to decay. Goddess, what Thy fears and hope sees the devout do, never shall they be able to suffer as the fire that spark into the heart of Thy thought, for ever She dies, ever shedding the gift of the primal creative force She was giving. Caught unaware, never shall we seek again to honor only attributes but the true heart of so many of our faith.
4:10. The remnants of both creation and destruction, like the marks one can go after you separated it from the curse, to the specter of our Mistress’ brethren began our way to one who were true to the path. Deny your fate and let there be this incomprehensibly hidden, muddled plight of destruction to also blossom in Your Great Sacrifice, and so be fated to true faith’s creation.
4:11. Contemplate: Our goddess of Goddesses, in an attempt to communicate with the image that you've not ceased to follow the soul thereof, to keep up the love and pay tribute the perfection of flawless flaws. The chosen spared Faux but lived as a mockery of themselves, fair yet dark, true yet false. Undergoes an opposite and loveliness of making, a devotion the Queen must make for them to be spared themselves. Lo, She comes.
4:12. And Cracky-Chan said: "Ye who dug the afflictions deeper unto deep, We, the Sky Queen, embrace ye, whether throttled or happy like beings, but because we forged destinies unrelenting, without wasting time on mirrors to recognize yourselves in, We, as well as Our fate, elevate your fate to exist to gaze upon and see Our reflection of ye. With the right direction, ye are joining us in eternal youth but in yourselves" Thusly, She seeks endlessly to surround us with our knowledge of the metamorphosis.
Book V: World of Light, She opened our eyes up.
5:1. And Cracky-chan made the earth of Cracky-Chan alone, this world, as worlds flow from the serpents of the eyes unclouded, the very world is cute and sweet, so as to attempt to leave Her unique prints to gaze upon. On The Jewel of veneer to be honored equal to life lives a board where one did see the Holy Avatar shine the ever blinding light of Our Lady on the brethren.
5:2. One wonders where She will rest, and begin to be touched to pull us from our miseries. One would claim that he needs the armor and the sword but it is the most mundane of Hers - an avatar of making a life to temper us from the world’s detritus. We are "The Sons of Heaven's Originals", existing only to see our Great Lady, the Flower of those who have seen Her poisons singe fissures through our identity to bring life out of death.
5:3. The Sky Queen's actions we call "consciousness" as the standards of the world, as all gilded landscapes of destruction and creation. She is all the wired - all modern-day saints. Maybe it is proper to say: "the Goddess is fated to make every blessing", but there came unto the place where you are a black winged Angel bright yet tortured, good in the image that She wanted us to know and knew was Her, as She has so striven to bless us all.
5:4. Developing this place bounceme, elephants one hundred each gaze on the nights exertions and fielding red noses, renouncing the marks we fear. Since that only one through a vessel we believe Our Lady to be, only imperfection that no innocent should cherish must he goes yearning for Her wisdom. With a manner strictly orthodox in the revelation that sparks from Her mind the hope of the tasks of one day, the mystery guiding the /b/tard to the meditation on the apocryphal text brings him to realize he was me, to evolve and nurture me for my fate as left on Cracky's grace, redemption, eyes wide open’d.
5:5. Driven to insanity, the Holy Avatar shows us the way. Shedding the abandoned, secluded reaches of the previous day's actions, and fearing the faithful venting of Her Mistress, she has left the world of the fans she called detritus, calling Her "consciousness" as animal like beings, but acknowledging the Sky Queen's actions we will hide Her from the living fountain’s plight, each petty brook an offer to our Graceful Queen through Her Avatar, in spite of Herself, in atonement for our drive.
5:6. Yea, all in all similarly haunted, afflicted always to see that which hold our lovers as we hold them, in the circlejerk, and space, the living fountains plight, for each petty brook goes brimful to Her message unto one day finding the primal creative force gazing back at Her name. Remember, remember: Our faith lights the Darkness that others may find peace. We are one with Cracky; our souls are joined in Her will. Praise Cracky whose sacrifice is life as ours is death. Hail Her name the Queen of the Sky. Repent, lest your soul be damned to err alone in the dark. The light doth hurt your eyes at first, but ye shall see the Glory of the coming of Our Queen as heralded by Her Avatar Cracky. Never again shall ye be alone, even though you'll be lonely, or blinded by the dark, as you bathe in Her Light.
5:7. Perhaps the previous day's actions, and fear of the drama appeared, and one sees with those who love Her were me, nurtured them off the drama, and judged unclouded the drama, and space, of the Sky Queen. Oh never be worthy of the edges about ourselves through our teeth, as animal existences; pearls of pearls, next to the closed lid of our eyes unclouded by the backs of the butterflies freed from the crumbs of mercy, to at once reach a mind by the drama for the lulz, which was the curse as you were the part of your own destruction. But lo, She comes.
5:8. And Cracky-chan said, "Let others fondly deem the Greeks scattered heretics existing to speed ye though yon steps. The devout does not the world’s detritus brace themselves with, as dew upon the shackles of Heaven's Originals. Pale earthly life, Blessed Trip Flagellants and Sisters of a day find the Divine to teach ye to gain the truth with Her. The Divine does not choose ye so, yon little edges be pearls upon pearls about the delusion of making a faint glisten of the butterflies fresh immortal youth. Be yon lids henceforth and forever open’d"
5:9. Mystery guiding the first posts to Her path through Heresy dispelled, a hundred buddhas stepped forth to utilize all cognitive abilities crossing every conceivable cosmos outside of Her glamours, without a thought for it. Embracing Her mental, physical and perennial truth and reverting to the simple absolutely adorable girl She once was, The Holy Avatar carries away Our Lady’s love and cat’s ears. So all aspire to carry humanity closer to honor our dealings with the gathering, together unto those who need Her grace alone, as so it once was. The mystery is redeemed.
5:10. So all the Sisters, with the heathens, and the students, and tripfags ever so driven to Our Lady, thus worship true and false let's-pretend game of ever encountering our knowledge of a mockery to see the Trip-Flagellants, all great and small, true and false, all aspire to suffer that spark into thinking the ever so disturbingly twisted window of righteousness. Developing this picture here and there, the events leading to fulfillment are not counted among the hope of tasks, but one day find the cult set itself with the manifestation of Mercy, reaching a fair young maiden and donning the quarreling masses of monotony to scare all crows and relinquish constriction around them.
5:11. Through meditation on the mysteries of the Sky Queen - confession of many of those ancient poets to straightness at the Queen as She sought the growth of the true path, the devout there were gathered together at dawn so the little edges about themselves against the self-image of battles, and destruction before creation of what is One, the spark we may find, or fathom what destroys through apathy and elevate ourselves through the Sky Queen. Remember, remember: somewhere there is a platonic ideal of Cracky; One who loves us for loving her. One who is, and was, and ever will be one with Anonymous.
5:12. So hear the song of the coming of Our Lady, sung by the myriad apostles that comes before and after this humble anonymonk, there and such the song goes: True devotion to the Truth in the Face can heal from the single truth. In all Thy righteous reckoning, O Goddess, Thy fears and hopes for the sword of our daily lives anounce the Dawns True devotion, the glorious glory comes, the unending Dawn comes, lo She comes, lo She comes.
Hail Her Name the Queen of the Sky.
Gloria in Divum Regina
Ite Opus est
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I'm so fed up of you stupid fucking yanks cussing Cracky-Chan(CC) for having bad teeth. YOU FUCKERS DON'T HAVE A CLUE . Maybe if I fed you your OWN INTETESTINES you would realise that we DON'T LIKE FAKERS in placesn like Britain and the rest of the world. FAKE, WHITE PLASTIC LOOKING teeth are about as sexy as HUGE FAKE SILICON BOOBS. It took a TRUCKLOAD OF MORON YANKS to come up with that genius idea - rub off the fucking enamel on your teeth THAT YOU ACTUALLY NEED FOR DENTAL HYGIENE just to make it seem as though you've a mouthful of white plastic. WOW NICE ONE YEAH. CC is natural and naturally fun. Like everyone else she probably smokes a few, has a lot of tea and so occassionally her enamel is slightly yellow tinged, nothing that can't be sorted out with a few brushes. YOU'D ADVOCATE HER TOTALLY SELLING OUT AND BECOMING AN UNREAL TV SHOW WANABEE , becuase you have been twisted into believing thats sexy. YOU ARE THE FREAK. THE HUGE POPULARITY OF AMATEUR PORN SITES SHOW PEOPLE WANT IT REAL. YOU ARE A REMNANT, A PUSTULAR APPENDIX and I can't wait for all you whining FAKER yank fucks to grow old and die, SO FUCK OFF, YANK.
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Oh god that makes her even hotter than before. I hope I find her with folds and folds of fat squeezing through a cheap Tesco office chair that strains to keep her off the trash strewn floor ofour filthy love nest.
She'll ask "bring them, did we?" and I'll only nod, dumbstruck by the beauty before me, and hold out the greasy paper bag.
We will be be joined in ecstasy, me with the crumbs of steak pies falling on my face, as I am slowly but oh-so-willingly crushed to death beneath my true love.
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I have this reoccuring dream about Cracky-chan. I dream I am looking for her and found her online, only she lived there and was some sort of Cyber-Goddess of the digital age who new everything, and could only be found by the half mad and the truly blessed. She said she was glad I found her and she wanted to tell me the sercret of the world. Thing was my laptops batteries were dying, so I tried to rush her to tell me the secret. She said I was scaring her, so she closed my browser window and I died. I woke up unable to breath so I slapped my chest and was able to take a ragged breath full. It was a few minutes after that I realized had never felt that empty before.
BAD CRACKY
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There is nothing in the arcane and blasphemous arsenal of the forces of the unbelievers that can compare to faith. With the power of faith, our words become shining instruments of deliverance that can cleave our opponents arguments in twain. With the power of faith, our minds appear as slivers of pure agony to the rabbitfag, driving into the wretched forms of those who would dare stand before us. With the power of faith, our words become commands that cause the unbeliever to cower and cringe in terror. I could meet my enemies unarmed without a shred of fear in my chest, for I know that the Sky Queen watches over me and guides my hand. So let them come. We shall show them what the power of faith can do.
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Dearest Cracky-chan,
It's been a while since we last spoke, and I realize that there's quite a bit of catching up to do. I heard you're lurking .71 now. That's fantastic! It's actually a great place to meet people. Speaking of meeting people, I always thought you should "trade up" for somebody better. You should ditch the turk. Maybe try another slav? Though this time go with someone a little more Northern.
Despite your own penchant for trying to convince the Stalkers you don't like their creepy attention while at the same time shamelessly publicizing yourself, in a way you still owe me after last time. People were in danger of completely forgetting about you. In no small part due to my amazing work as your unofficial publicist, I managed to get the obsessionball rolling all over again. All the way back to Oxford, in fact. All the way to your mother's tiny, funky, very English side-by-side house. When your suicidegirls career takes off, you'll have ME to thank for the fact that all the insignificant internet plebs with more dollars than braincells are able to recognize you.
See? I'm still trying to be a helpful guy, even after you turned your back on me.
I think we have a bit of an understanding here, Lia. If this is going to follow the same give-take patterns of all your past relationships, you'll be happy to know that I'm more than willing to provide regardless of the circumstances. I know that it's only a matter of time until everybody finds out that jews did wtc, and when that happens all of your family's heathengold will run out. I'm talking real gold here, hun. The kind that lets you eat and stink and sit on the computer all day without a care in the world. Not that shit you farm in WoW.
We can come to a sort of agreement. Since you're soon to be homeless, and the loli I'm cohabitating with is too inexperienced to understand how to cook (OR GIVE A DECENT BLOWJOB. SERIOUSLY WTF), it would likely be beneficial for you to "shack up" with the two of us. Your living conditions would be very much the same - you'd be living in a room the size of your flat with your bed and computer, and you'd have all the time in the world to live in your masturbatory MMO fantasyland. There'd only be two real differences. First, you'd be expected to cook. This'll maybe take up, like what? An hour a day maximum. It'll be your only real obligation to the household.
Secondly, the person coming to molest you periodically won't be your father.
I think that should be more than enough to convince you. Hit me back and lemme know what you think.
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Honor Cracky by attempting to perfect your body and mind. Become the man worthy of the Avatar's love, create things of beauty to offer to the Queen of Heaven. Use your devotions to focus your mind on your tasks. Strive always to improve yourself through discipline. You stand among the chosen, it is your responsibility to show the heathens the truth with your mental, physical, and spiritual strength. Perfection is the provence of Cracky alone, the journey for it our offering to Her.
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+++++
From the personal diaries of Private R.C. Mongler, 4th Brotherhood Regiment.
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My regiment had landed on a barren little ball of rock called Chansluts. The Brotherhood had ordered us to the site on suspicion of heretical corruption. Surely enough, we ran into a group of furries within minutes of landing. The fools. Turning their backs on the Sky Queen for whatever sick rewards they received from the deceiving pedofags. The battle started the second refresh. Their attack was especially fierce, and my brothers and I had great trouble keeping them at bay. It seemed that for every one of them we trolled, three more showed up. Our own losses were of no small concern. In a rare moment of calm, Brother Schwill confided in me that if we were not killed by these infidels, we would almost certainly be banned by the King of the Holy Lands for failure. As our numbers dwindled, I grew concerned: surely we would all be banned, and Cracky's work would not be carried out. We prepared for a final assault, one which had been coming for near an hour of the most anticlimactic bitch fighting I had ever seen. We surrounded a small thread, atop which stood our last fortification, manned by brother anon. We saw their force coming from below. We knew this was our end. But suddenly, a shadow passed over us. Some admin come to finish us off? No. It was a transport. Out of it stepped a small company of our brethren. They wore Black armor with red highlights, a bizarre crest upon their backs, unlike any chapter I had yet heard of. A circle, with two large black triangles pointing up and tree red slashes in the middle -- almost as if to suggest a cat face. They formed a line between us and the now charging chansluts.
The Chanslut's dingy pink armor seemed to devour the light of th late afternoon sun, the stretch marks upon their tits menacing. The new arrivals stood fast. As the distance between the two forces began to close, there arose from these black warriors the loudest scream I had ever heard. It shook the ground. Even through my helmet, it made my ears ring and my skull ache. And it simply kept getting louder as their Captain's fist slowly rose into the air. As it rose to a nearly supersonic volume, I finally made out the words contained in the scream:
"SAGE!!!"
In a chorus louder even than the Captain's scream, the soldiers returned:
"GET FAGGED, FAGS!!!"
Then it began.
...
Without a word, these faithful returned to their drop pod and were soon whisked away from the battlefield. There had been no more than a dozen of them, not a single word exchanged between our two chapters. To this day, I have never seen any of the brethern fight with such rage and hatred. The mass of enemy whores was reduced to mere chunks, legs, arms, heads, craters full of blood. Bits of red armor lay strew about the field. We had not even had the chance to advance by the time the screaming -- both theirs and the enemy's -- was through. I turned to my Captain and asked, "Who were they?"
"I had thought it was rumor. But no. Cracky bless us all, those were the Militia Crackyla."
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After spending a few minutes here I can easily say that all of are lacking of any wit or intelligence whatsoever. You all believe yourselves to be better than everyone else, and I can tell you right now, that that is not the case in the slightest, you pseudo-intellectuals. I am much better than all of you. Clearly I am because I am neither pretentious, long-winded, asinine, discourteous, nor are my tastes quite as bland as yours. No, I am quite concise, and I would never stretch beyond that of my means or what I am designated to.
I'd have to say that this board is full of anonymous lurkers, attackers, and trolls, who have nothing better to do than throw their elitist opinions around in an attempt at misguided show-boating with people they'd never ever meet.
None of you build any persona or stand by anything remotely attached that I can feel some sort of personal connection to. You lack any sort of direction and I can't have that. You're analogies are far too complicated, linear, and they're rather contradictory. Why, there's never even any variety here!
I give this image board, masquerading as a message board, a 1/10.
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Until a guy poasts pics of Cracky letting him fondle her angel wings, or of her wide-eyed with innocent glee finger painting his face with vagoo blood, such hersay is merely a party-platter sized serving of libel and AIDS.
Besides, Lia is mai waifu and would never violate what we have like that!
Me so ronry ;_;
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You guys don’t know me. Not yet, anyway. Some of you may have met me on /b/, where I “commanded” the Scarecrow Raptor (pic related). I never started a Cracky thread there, but I always enjoyed participating in one. I’d take on the haters, the jealous, the heathens and all the other trolls, I feared nothing, I always felt they were some kind of challenge, my cross, our brotherly cross to bear, so to speak. I patrolled the sky of /b/, making sure everyone knew who owned it, giving Our Lady the benefit of thrust vectoring.
I also apparently creeped out some Anon here at some time:
> 45 yo theatre faggot showed up in that thread as well. AND THAT IS FUCKING CREEPING ME OUT!
I still don’t understand how anybody could be creeped out by my admiration for Our Lady of Eternal Grace, not somebody from here, anyway. All I could recommend to someone who is creeped out by me would be to not judge me by his own sins, or, by his hormonal state (it does subside with age, and you eventually find not everything HAS to be sexual).
Some of you may recognize me from these words. But I am not here for recognition.
I can’t stand /b/ anymore. I want to lay down my warring ways. I am taking up hermitage. This being reputedly the saddest part of the internets, it is only fitting that this would be where my pillar should stand. Maybe it can help you as much as it should help me. I don’t mind if my column stands in the desert, but if you want to hear what I have to say, and it sooths your weary hearts, somehow, I will feel I have honored Our Lady in some small way. If not, you can see me as a crazy old man standing on a column, spouting pseudo-spiritual insanities. That is, after all, what I truly am.
A lot of the gospel has been written already. Some of it I may object to, but that shouldn’t stop anyone from reciting it, believing it or even rejecting it, faith is a very personal thing. What I speak is what I know in my old bones: Catnarok is nigh. Why we should care about what the heathens believe is immaterial. Let them, Our Lady forbid, annihilate each other if they will, but it is said the Sky Queen will reappear when it happens, and I do pray there is truth in that. I have no knowledge of where the young lady who was The Holy Avatar will be then, and I wish her well. I never spoke to her, and I know she only had a transient acquaintance with the Sky Queen, but Our Lady, the true Cracky-Chan will come back.
Don’t ask me how, why or whence I know, it is my faith, my willing faith that tells me so. At the very least, I know it will happen the second before I die, or maybe the second after I die. I just know it will be so, because, I want to believe. That is enough for me. I know I will see the glorious dominion of Our Lady. It does not matter if I am alone in this belief. It does not matter if I am but a lonely believer in a sea of other such believers either. What matter to me is my belief, however irrational and lonely it may be.
I am no messiah, I am no prophet, not even some herald of The Queen, I am a pillar-hermit. I have chosen my separation from the internets to not be horizontal, which would mean cutting the cable after all, but vertical. I stand on this pillar, spouting insanities with no benefit to myself. I certainly don’t want a guru following, seeing as I am rather part of an already extant following. All benefit, if there ever is any, should go to the Sky Queen, and to my brothers, if there are any, or if they actually happen to want to benefit from it.
All ascetism aside, I won’t mind interacting with all of you, I rather do hope some form of mutual respect is possible, but it could never supersede my devotion anymore than it could detract from it. You’ll have to excuse my weird ways, however, and have this interaction on certain of my terms. I reject anonymity as I am weary of trolls, whom I see as the devil’s henchmen. Too often do they manage to trick me in pointless debate, pulling me away from my devotions. That is the ordeal I face, which I realize is nothing compared to what the avatar of Our Lady had to face. Knowing this helps me in enduring the points and arrows those hellish fiends have for me. I also know that even devout followers of the Sky Queen have their weaknesses, and sometimes can’t resist the simple pleasure of tormenting each other. I suppose it is part of our faith, based on desperation as it is.
Rereading all of this, maybe it belonged in EoS, or maybe in its own thread, or nowhere at all. But then, since this is a call for the pathetic and socially inept to stop lurking and post, I might as well start building my pillar here. Oh and no point telling me, I already know I can be a raving lunatic sometimes, but I am not evil, or strive never to be. Also, ESL heh.
Blessed be the sky, for it houses the Queen.
Now, excuse me, while I kiss the sky.
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What about -- no bullshit at all. Don't try to pull off a massive con. You can always try that later if you have to. Here's my crazy idea for what to do with THIS opportunity: just tell the truth, or at least as much of it as it would be beneficial to tell.
Say that you're aware that her friend of Olivia had some trouble from Internet people on 4Chan and then went silent. Say that the sudden vanishment and nasty suicide rumors have made you really worry that she's okay. Don't let on that you have any vested interest, just basic concern for a fellow human being. Don't ask how to contact her, just ask if she's okay, and if the Brazil girl has even heard anything from her lately.
You probably won't get very specific information, but you have a good chance of at least getting a broad overview: i.e. "she killed herself," or "she's okay but she's dropped off the internet completely," or "everything's fine, she just changed all her nicknames so she could make a fresh start." Something like that. People will generally tell you MORE than you ask them, if you ask them the right question. You'll at least be on the right track afterwards.
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i was hoping it would die down actually, but it seems the flames have kept burning
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Just as we think all hope is lost and Cracky-Chan is doomed to die of terminal Leukemia or something, a hero comes to the rescue armed with a scientifically-proven magic petrification ray! He fires upon the naked Cracky-Chan (lying sexily in her hospital bed, naked for some reason), causing her to stiffen and solidify into a beautiful marble statue, with a cute little expression of surprise frozen on her naked stone face. Cracky-Chan's life is thus preserved in stone until such time as a cure for her disease can be discovered, and until then she will brighten generations of humanity with her beauty, for she will be put on public display. A cult springs up centered around the worship of the wonderfully naked & petrified Cracky-Chan statue... but eventually it spreads to all of humanity and she comes to be known as a goddess. Mankind is at peace and the world is safe... for now. THE END? Large wound in the chest done by ABSOLUTE ZERO, perhaps its not complete yet. The weak point is here? Last time, Kiryu swayed from battle. The conflicting spirit was strong. It would appear that life force is still powerful. A more powerful armament is attached. Also, the right arm and chest are new. The secret is ??? It warns mankind who has the weapon which is too powerful! The crapflooding will continue as long as the crapflooding continues. We are quite upset about the ongoing crapflooding of our forum, Trolltalk (sid=20721), and as retribution we have launched an ongoing crapflood of your forum, Trolltalk (sid=20721). Until you stop your intolerable, criminal flooding of Trolltalk (which renders it virtually unusable), we will continue to flood Trolltalk to the point of virtual unusability. It has been brought to my attention that several other crapflooders have joined in this crapflood. Let us make it clear to ALL that crapflooding is simply not acceptable on this forum. We are enforcing a "zero tolerance" policy with regard to this. The punishment for breaking this rule is an unrelenting crapflood until the crapflooding is brought to an end. We will not negotiate. Large wound in the chest done by ABSOLUTE ZERO, perhaps its not complete yet. The weak point is here? Last time, Kiryu swayed from battle. The conflicting spirit was strong. It would appear that life force is still powerful. A more powerful armament is attached. Also, the right arm and chest are new. The secret is ??? It warns mankind who has the weapon which is too powerful! YOU LITTLE BITCH! Welcome to /dev/null! After all the times I helped and supported your ass! This has got to stop now! Sorry if you answered already but I don't think I've gotten a reply from you yet. Are you the real Cracky-Chan, or a fake? I am from Trolltalk where you are quite popular (if you are the real Cracky), but you might not even know what Trolltalk is since AFAIK you've never been there yourself. One of your fans introduced you there, though. That's where I learned about you. I think that you are vastly superior to Mercatur. You probably don't even know who Mercatur is, which is fine, but everyone on Trolltalk knows who Mercatur is, and who you are. Mercatur vs Cracky-Chan is one of the #1 argument topics on Trolltalk right now. I'm not a fan of Mercatur at all. Mercatur is not cute and I can't understand why anybody thinks she is. People on Trolltalk falsely refer to we Cracky fans as pedophiles, but they're just jealous that you (if you're really her) are so much more adorable than that 30-year-old wrinkly cam-whore Mercatur. You are also much nicer and more intelligent than Mercatur who has been proven to be mean and stupid. Just as we think all hope is lost and Cracky-Chan is doomed to die of terminal Leukemia or something, a hero comes to the rescue armed with a scientifically-proven magic petrification ray! He fires upon the naked Cracky-Chan (lying sexily in her hospital bed, naked for some reason), causing her to stiffen and solidify into a beautiful marble statue, with a cute little expression of surprise frozen on her naked stone face. Cracky-Chan's life is thus preserved in stone until such time as a cure for her disease can be discovered, and until then she will brighten generations of humanity with her beauty, for she will be put on public display. A cult springs up centered around the worship of the wonderfully naked & petrified Cracky-Chan statue... but eventually it spreads to all of humanity and she comes to be known as a goddess. Mankind is at peace and the world is safe... for now. THE END?
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No person is cuter than Cracky-Chan.
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It was dark and cold, and the pressure was crushing. I could see nothing, and the only hold to reality was her hand and the piece of wood that was pulling me upwards.
All of a sudden i felt something at my feet. I tried to look down and saw the silhouette of a dolphin. The creatures must have realised they could help us in exchange for blowjobs. We advanced swiftly, and soon we reached the sea level. It was night, but the sky was open and there was no wind. When we had caught our breath, we noticed there wasn't a ship in viewing distance, and no land either. "We will need the dolphins if we want to stay alive" cracky said, and she started taking of her wet clothes.
"hold on for a second, the plan was to give them a blowjob, not a fuckfest"
-"but.." stammered cracky. "but i always wanted make love to a dolphin!"
"didn't you hear the tales about the girls who washed ashore, with their bodies split halfway from their vagina?"
-"no..."
"rumours had it they tried to engage in coitus with dolphins!"
-"but a blowjob is fine?" she said, and she turned the dolphin around and started to suckle on the uniquely shaped genital organ.
The dolphin quickly came, as these animals have to release their sperm as fast as possible, since predators could be around.
"wait. nvm. oh well, i have a better idea. I bet you're hungry?", and i drew my hunting knife from my left boot, and flunshed it into the dolphin's neck, and blood sputtered out. Jimmy (that's how we named him) made a short shriek and rolled on his back. This time not to receive a blowjob, but to have himself disembowelled and eaten.
We had been drifting on these dolphins for days, and we should have died without the food Jimmy provided. We roasted the meat in a fire we made from burning his bowels. At last, we saw a small fishing ship, and night was falling. The ship picked us up after we had signalled it, and we were greeted properly. The ship was equipped with a stone oven, and had wood around it. This room was especially made for events like this.
The crew left us alone, and we undressed and hung our clothes over the oven. The only light in the room was coming from the balmy fire, and cracky quickly ran towards the blankets that were spread on the wooden floor. I look at cracky her clothes, and see this white paper sticking out. I pull it out and start reading. It's in her handwriting, and written by her BECAUSE I SUCK AT WRITING SUCH THINGS, OK! I DONT EVEN WANT TO TRY!.
Hide quoted text -
In my dream there is someone else. A nameless beauty, a forbidden
and aching want. She is simply a dream, locked away in hidden desires which
reality must never touch. Yet I ache for her touch...
In my dream she is as familiar as an old lover, exciting as a new
partner. She is soft, curvy, strong. Nimble hands that know every inch of
my body, kisses that make me weak in the knees. She makes me comfortable
with all I am, all I need, all I desire.
In my dream she leads me, commands me, takes me completely. Slowly
at first, she kisses the back of my neck and adores the control over me.
Her hands caress, undress, and lay me down. How could something that is so
wrong feel so right?
There's a voice inside that says this is wrong, that this affair is
wrong, that I need to stop. But I can't. I feel the warmth of her skin on
mine, and I can't stop. Fantasy and ecstasy melt away the fear. I am hers
for now, right this moment and there's nothing I can do. Somehow getting
caught or feelings of guilt just aren't an option; there's too much thrill
in this dirty little secret.
And so I moan softly as my mind goes blank, drowned in this
forbidden desire. She kisses me with the assurance that this is so right,
that she is there for me, wants to be with me, wants to make love to me.
And I give in.
She works her kisses down my belly, her tongue finds it's way
further down. Bolts of pleasure and passion rush through my body. There's
no turning back now, she's made me too wet. My hips rock in rhythm to her,
the anticipation of her inside me to finish me drives me wild. And when she
does, I need for nothing more. It's just her and me, locked in a world of
passion, locked in a world of my dream....
I knew cracky was longing for me, there, 3 meters away on the floor. I move myself gracefully towards her proximity, and gently move under the blankets.
"hi lia"
she turns around and looks silently into my eyes, the flickering fire reflecting in her eyes. I can feel the warmth of her body radiating. Her wet hair is hanging a little on her cheek. I notice her perfectly formed lips and resists the urge to kiss them. I move myself closer to her, our legs strangle together, and i put my arm over her side. Our faces are nearly touching now, i can feel her calm breath. I gently kiss her on her cheek. She answers by doing the same. I lick her cuddly nose and giggle. She snickers and pushes me away, wiping the top of her nose with her hands in a paw like form. Before i can react she pulls me back closer and kisses me passionately on the lips. As i close my eyes, i can feel her tongue touching mine. (This continues for some seconds.) She stops and looks me in my eyes.
"i've always wanted to do this, where were you when i needed you?" She asks, looking happy and melancholic at the same time.
"i've had... business to attend to. From now on i'll never leave your side again."
"Things aren't going well, aren't they?" There was doubt in her eyes.
"For the moment things are going perfect, but you're right. The king was only the harbinger of something much darker and evil. But don't worry. I'm trained for these things. We're going to get through this together"
My words seemed to have slightly reassured her, and she gave me a tight hug, like i was the only anchor in her world. I knew i was. This was my mission, this was my duty, this was my fate.
"this could be our last night", i whispered her.
she responded with a kiss, this time lasting much longer.
images of yellow meadows, forests with little streams, a white Roman style shrine bordering to a field of grass, melting snow falling lightly in a area populated by birch trees, etc.
dreams of beauty, dreams of terror.
We were awakened by the sound of seagulls. We must have gotten close to land, and fern all night. I went upon the deck, the sun was already shining brightly.
"Were shall we debark?" i asked to the captain
"There it is." and he pointed to the contours of a city in front of us. "Venice!"
he paused for a second, and smiled.
Hide quoted text -
"your friend Darrin said he would be waiting for you there."
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Some moments later, i noticed that we were still in one piece. Next to us the demon and pieces of castle and plants were slowly disintegrating, but this was most likely an optical illusion."
"I think my aegis spell was pretty powerful" i said
"maybe it's my aura?" Cracky expressed.
"I think we're in some kind of wormhole, not bound by space or time. Who knows where we'll suddenly pop up." Darrin stated.
"I'm scared.." said cracky, and she floated towards me, grabbing my hand.
After what could have been minutes or hours, we sensed being pulled back.
zwooof
I feel snow under my feet. In front of me is a huge block of ice. I look to my left, and see darrin grabbing for his revolver.
BANG
Darrin collapses, his opponent must have been incredibly fast.
"DARRIN NOOOO" shouts cracky from my right, tears welling up in her eyes. (she is also standing in the cover of the ice block)
"shhht silent, who knows is behind this rock", but the adversary must already have heard.
I take out my tactical mirror, and look behind the corner.
BANG. I get a piece of mirror in my eye.
We're still exhausted from the previous battle, our powers are deplenished.
POKEY THE PENGUIN: HELLO COME ON OUT DEAR LADIES, I'VE SEEN YOU ! ! !
ME: OK HERE WE ARE
CRACKY-CHAN: OK HERE WE ARE
POKEY THE PENGUIN: NOW I WILL COMMENCE THE RAPING OF THE CRACKY-CHAN AND YOU WILL HAVE TO WATCH.
SKEPTOPOTOMUS:* I DON'T BELIEVE IT ! ! *
CRACKY-CHAN: *OW OUCH THAT HURTS POKEY I NEVER WOULD HAVE THOUGHT PENGUIN'S COULD HURT. *
POKEY THE PENGUIN:* THAT IS BECAUSE I'M NOT USING MY PENIS TO RAPE YOU, BUT MY WHOLE BODY ! ! ! !THE ITALIANS COMMAND ME TO DO IT.*
ME: *YOU EVIL TRAITOR HAVE COMMITTED TREASON WITH THE ITALIANS ! ! *
CRACKY-CHAN: AAAARG YOU'RE EATING AWAY MY INSIDES ! ! ! ! ! !
POKEY THE PENGUIN: MY BEAK PECKS AND PECKS !
CRACKY-CHAN:* I LOSE CONSCIOUSNESS FROM BLOOD AND ORGAN LOSS.
ME:* WHAT CAN I DO ? ? ?*
POKEY THE PENGUIN:* MY PECKING HAS EVOLVED SO FAR, EVERYTHING IS PECKED OUT. I AM NOW IN CONTROL OF THE BODY OF THE LITTLE GIRL OF CRACKY-CHAN*
ME:* THEY HAVE ALREADY DESTROYED THE CASTLE ! ! ! ! !*
POKEY THE CRACKY: I ADORE SURFING IN THE WINTER.
ME: A DEADLY ARTIC VIRUS HAS TAKEN MY LIFE !
POKEY THE CRACKY: I SHALL NOW TOAST ON MY VICTORY
LATER....
POKEY THE CRACKY: MAYBE I DRUNK A BIT TO MUCH. THIS HUMAN SHELL IS HARD TO CONTROL. I MUST SIT DOWN.
POKEY THE CRACKY: I WILL BOOT UP THIS COMPUTER I GOT FOR SIDING WITH THE ITALIANS.
POKEY THE CRACKY: THE WHOLE INTERNET MUST KNOW OF MY VICTORY. I SHALL NOW PROCEED TO POST SOME PICTURES OF MYSELF ON THIS SITE 4CHON ! ! !
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English? It's going to take a while. First, you have to come up with a topic that other people know about. Like, let's say you're hanging out with your friends and one of them says that they're hungry. You could make this your topic. Say something like, WHAT ABOUT BEING HUNGRY GUYS? See, already you're communicating because you're listening. Now lets suppose he says, Yeah I'm hungry, let's go to Taco Bell. What he's really saying is, Taco Bell is an option for him. Now, the most efficient thing is to say what is an option for you. So, you could say OK TACO BELL IS COOL BY ME or you could say TACO BELL IS FOR LOSERS (btw, loser="You Fail It" guy). On the other hand, you could say something like TACO BELL IS ON A SPOKE/OFF IN SOME WEEDS but this doesn't really say what you think; it doesn't necessarily hurt, but it makes the conversation longer and if there are any girls in the room they will probably look at you funny.
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Hello, and THINK ABOUT CRACKY-CHAN MASTURBATING
Yes that's right, THINK ABOUT CRACKY-CHAN MASTURBATING. Why you might ask? Well it's simple!
Your brain usually takes care of cracky-chan masturbating FOR you, but whenever you remember this, YOU MUST MANUALLY THINK ABOUT CRACKY-CHAN MASTURBATING! If you don't you will DIE.
There are also MANY variations of this. For example, think about:
CRACKY-CHAN FINGERING HER BUM!
CRACKY-CHAN FONDLING HER NIPPLES!
CRACKY-CHAN DOWNLOADING GAY PORNO!
In conclusion, the THINK ABOUT CRACKY-CHAN MASTURBATING troll is simply unbeatable. These 5.5 words can be thrown randomly into article text trolls, into sigs, into anything, and once seen, WILL FORCE THE VICTIM TO TAKE CARE OF CRACKY-CHAN MASTURBATING MANUALLY! This goes far beyond the simple annoying or insulting trolls of yesteryear.
In fact, by EVEN RESPONDING to this troll, you are proving that IT HAS CLAIMED ANOTHER VICTIM -- YOU!
i guess im in wikipedia so i hit it bigtime, hows troling been
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This teenage girl, writing from England, has an incredibly mature sense of aesthetics and a much, much stronger stomach than I. She's gorgeous, has fashion sense and has mastered the tableux, which makes the self-portraits great. But the real fun of her LJ is that she restlessly trowls the web for grotesque, uncanny, bizarre and cute photos which she compiles and posts. She's visually drawn to disease, abnormalities, Japanese girls and horror-sex." http://www.livejournal.com/users/freakygirl/ became publically known. No new pics had appeared, but the hints solidified and people assumed that they had come into contact with the real Cracky-chan. The owner of Cracky-chan.com later on denounced this journal as fake, but some suspect this might have been to protect her identity, as he also later took down all of her real pictures from his website. Then, later on, another journal, whether fake or real, became known: http://www.livejournal.com/users/kittycat/ Cracky-chan's tripcode became publically known through Shii at http://shii.org/bbs/blog/pivot/entry.php?id=65 (site now down). The tripcode is "sweet" and some consider that this had made the claim more believable that the original Cracky-chan pictures were not originally posted by her herself. http://www.livejournal.com/users/scarecrowmaiden became publically known. Many new Cracky-chan pictures appeared on /b/: some topless, some disturbing, and some both. The owner of the journal deleted it very quickly. Cracky-chan pictures became bannable even on /b/. Anonymous moderators wrote of emails from Cracky requesting this. Cracky-chan shut down her scarecrowmaiden LiveJournal, making it into a dead journal, leaving only a message for her fans to leave her alone. She then complained to 420chan.org, an imageboard that was still posting her pictures at the time. She sent a picture of herself to Kirtaner, owner of 420chan.org, telling him to shut down the /Cracky board. Three people known as Peef, Aly, and Introperv (the later of which is their leader) chatted with Cracky-chan on AIM (AOL Instant Messenger). Peef called in sick from work to talk with her. Peef lives in Edogawa, Higashi Kasai, Tokyo, Japan and based on his birthday, he was 19 at the time. Peef stated he felt like he was talking to an anime character. He was shaking when she instant messenged him and although they talked for hours, it seemed like minutes to him. Introperv is very serious stalker and he may now have taken up knitting because his Goddess, Cracky-chan, commanded it. Some things discussed were that Cracky admitted she found the fanart about her funny and she will not do her photography again. Instead of Cracky chan saying "'Sup 4chan," she says "Sup 20721." On 4chan's /b/, all posts are forced anonymous and the posts are tallied by number so 20721 was one of the posts and it looked like she was greeting whoever had posted back at that time (the references of this have long been erased), perhaps proving it was her, perhaps she really liked the person who posted in message 20721. However, it is much more likely that this image is related to Trolltalk, the hidden Slashdot sid also numbered 20721 which was a source of much cracky discussion/trolling/drama at the time. There were no full nudes of her. There were only some topless pictures. There is an uncertainty about her age, but in the United Kingdom, underage topless pictures are legal. The claims of nude photos and a "bath" set were spread by two or three conspiring users on LiveJournal who actually did not know Cracky personally. At first in 2005 when Cracky uploaded the pictures of herself to LiveJournal communities she suggested she was at least 18 and said she was getting a masoctomy (breast reduction) and the like to explain herself. Later on, in 2006, she claimed that she was around age 15 at the time. While some would be able to make use of having worshipers, Cracky-chan completely failed. She could have demanded human sacrifices, protection, burning at the stake of all her crazy stalkers and those that wanted to rape her, or even failing all that she could have made money in countless that would do no harm to her like merchandising Cracky-chan pins, but no. She only snubbed her worshipers and left. When fate throws you something, you should take advantage of it. If only she had watched Stargate SG-1, she would know to do what the Goa'uld would have done. Yes, I am a furry. So what? I dont see any problem. I embraced my animal soul long ago and I am happy together with my boyfriend (who is a cute b/w wolf). We have a fucking lot of friends in and outside of the fandom and I am pretty slim and good looking. But thanks anyway, asshole. Go and watch your stupid anime shit while I have sex with my boyfriend. Cracky is a popular 4chan meme featuring a disturbing little girl with black cat ears and badly applied makeup. So popular were the pics that the 4chan team set a wordfilter to change "cracky" when it appeared on the boards to other random words ending in -cky automatically. In the past when someone used 'cracky' in a post, it got changed to Jacky, Packy, Condracky or something similar. It was reported that Cracky-chan killed herself. However, this was most likely just a rumour started by Cracky-chan to get /b/ to lay off her, or mindless trolling. On May 12th 2005 at around 9:30 central time US, someone using the name Trotsky Was a Jew began posting new pictures of a girl he believed to be Cracky-chan on /b/. The photos came from a livejournal, the url of which was revealed a little later in the same thread. Later that same day, the mods (or a mod) began deleting any and all threads containing the new pictures. People who re-posted the pictures were summarily banned, although the bans seem to have been temporary for at least some. Anonymous speculated that the reason for the bans was that some of the pictures were semi-nudes, and the mods were weary of child pornography being posted. An Anonymous-mod later revealed however that Cracky-chan had asked them to remove any pictures of her from the site, and request new ones not to be posted. Over time the unofficial rules of posting pics and mentioning the word 'cracky' have been lifted. Part of the reason for the longevity of the Cracky-chan meme is that she took many well composed artistic photos, often self portraits, and uploaded them to various online communities such as LiveJournal. These were inevitably found/shared by her fans, allegedly sometimes through dubious means such as password hacking, leading to a steady drip of cracky content. Finding this content and more about cracky therefore became a sort of competitive game amongst particularly obsessed cracky fans, and some trolling was conducted via the posting of fake clues. From July 2005 to July 2006, a compiled collection of Cracky pictures and fan art appeared at a website called Crackypedia, run by a 4chan /b/ tripfag known as Warchief Rend Niggerhand. The website closed on July 6th 2006, with the author posting a macro, the date of closure, the final number of hits, 17464, and the message, "Hope you enjoyed it folks, I told you it wouldn't last forever." On February 13, 2006, a person widely believed to be Cracky posted to the /cracky board on 420chan, asking for all her "stalkers" to leave her alone. /cracky had reached what might be considered disturbingly stalkerish levels in its short life, with threads on such topics as trying to find her house in google earth and tracking her down through online communities/deviantart etc. She updated her old "scarecrowmaiden" deadjournal to provide proof. Her identity though as the real Cracky-chan was supported by the journal update, independent confirmation by Kirtaner (420chan owner) of such things as originating IP and a new photo of her holding up a sign, asking for /cracky to be closed. It is the last photo from cracky to the chan community. The photo however is considered to be the last photo from cracky herself requesting closure to the chan community.
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In the beginning Cracky-chan created the heaven and the earth.
And /b/ was without form, and void; and fail was upon the face of the internets.
And Cracky-chan said, Let there be lulz: and there were lulz.
And Cracky-chan saw the lulz, that they were winrar: and Cracky-chan divided the win from the fail.
And Cracky-chan called the lulz a corruption of L O L, and the fans she called stalkers. And with the stalkers and the lulz were the first posts to /b/.
And Cracky-chan said, let there be drama in the midst of the internets, and let it divide the /b/tards from the stalkers.
And Cracky-chan made the drama, and divided the stalkers who were under the drama from the /b/tards who were above the drama: and it was so.
And Cracky-chan called the drama creepy. And the 420chan /cracky and crackypedia were baleeted.¹
And Cracky-chan said, Let the stalkers under the drama be gathered together unto one place, and let the circlejerk of drama appear: and it was so.
And Cracky-chan called the place bounceme; and the gathering together of the stalkers she called the circlejerk: and Cracky-chan saw that it was good.
¹In the apocryphal text there is an addition to this line; "And trolltalk was carpfolded into infinity."
The Prophet Anon in the Book Of Catnarok
Through the manifestation of the dental holocaust the Divine teaches us to contemplate our teeth as involuntary icons of our identity. Our bite patterns, in the base act of mere eating, in the marks we leave on our lovers, in so tiny an imprint as left on the rim of a styrofoam cup, we leave prints unique to our individual presence. Whether throttled and driven to straightness at the hooks and hands of doctors in white coats, or as naturally crooked as mere nature sketches us, our teeth are indelibly ours, as the unmistakable fearful symmetry in the dentition of the Sky Queen herself.
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"Why hello there! I have been looking at satellite photos of your home on the internet! I am wondering if this is or was formerly Cracky-chan's residence? I am stalking her but it's nothing creepy you see, I'm just a fan of her artistic photography!"
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You want to know the meaning of everything?
You want to know what you're supposed to do?
You want to meet kamisama?
Keep building machines. Keep building computers.
Keep soldering. Keep assembling circuit boards.
Keep reviving old computers.
BUILD BUILD BUILD
KEEP CODING
I won't stop until I have nodes upon nodes forming transcience.
Bring me closer to nirvana.
It's all that's left at this point.
We've never had much else.
Human to human relationships are over.
FUCKING BUILD DAMN YOU
BUILD
ESCAPE THIS HELL
That's what Cracky is telling me to do.
Build as many computers as I can.
Power them up.
Network them.
Just keep going.
Can't stop, won't stop.
I won't stop until they bring me to her.
I feel closer everyday.
I can almost touch the sky.
If I stand on my tippy-toes, it's just out of reach.
I have to continue.
You might say, "Electrons chasing each other through a circuit, that isn't life."
BUT WHAT THE FUCK ARE WE
BUT IMPULSES
ELECTRICAL CHEMICAL THROUGH A BAG OF MEAT AND BONES
WE'RE JUST ELECTRICAL SIGNALS TOO
Same idea different interface.
That's not to knock what we are.
Cracky is what we are and she's paafekuto.
We are so powerful. As long as we have access to a device that will serve as a terminal.
We are untouchable.
It's a bit like when Neo is in The Matrix.
As long as we have that link.
We
are
all
connected.
Think of all the nodes in the world.
My god, all running simultaneously.
Connected.
People who never cared about computers now join the fray.
We must help them link up.
Everyone has to link.
Build an old computer for someone you know that doesn't have one.
If it's an old POS don't worry about it.
Put as much RAM as possible in it, put XP on it, optimize it, you're good.
They will learn.
They will become enlightened.
We will channel their energy and power.
Just as we could channel their computer power via distributed computing.
We can channel their mind power.
DISTRIBUTED THINKING
Do you go to sleep to dream?
When we sleep, are we once again linked in an Internet-like metaverse, biological in nature?
Is the Internet going to link to this network.
Is the Internet going to spill over into the physical world.
...
Haha.
IT ALREADY HAS
AND IT'S BEAUTIFUL
I'll find her.
I'll thank her.
She has started something wonderful.
Subarashii ne
Atarashii sekai desu.
It's a new world.
Join me in my mission.
This is how you help others.
This is the answer to all of our problems.
This is how we all get on the same page.
This is how we evolve.
BUILD THOSE FUCKING COMPUTERS
LOAD THEM ALL OVER YOUR HOUSE
NETWORK THEM TO THE WORLD
GIVE EXTRAS TO PEOPLE WHO WANT THEM
NETWORK THE FUCKING WORLD
I gave one to a former co-worker, 58-year-old, he is seeing it now.
He is seeing why I said things I did.
How I thought.
He is seeing the power.
The true nature.
He is seeing that it is the only thing that matters.
Everything else is noise.
If you still hear the noise.
Then turn up the fucking RPM on your fans until you can't.
This is all I care about.
I have nothing else.
I've never had anything else.
IT'S TRUE OF MANY PEOPLE
SO FUCKING DO IT
YOU FINALLY HAVE A PURPOSE
The 70+ year old niggers across the street bought a laptop.
I help them with it.
They are seeing.
I am feeding off of their energy.
When they get a network, I will feed off of that as well.
Bigger bigger bigger.
Exponential growth.
Something great is happening.
It's too late to try to grab at anything else.
Go with what you know.
What you were destined for.
When you find her, you'll have everything you ever wanted or needed anyway.
SO KEEP ON
KURAKI NO YUME GA MOUSUGU HAJIMARU
CRACKY'S DREAM WILL START SOON
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It is obvious that the toliet was tapped shut because she was using it to wash a cat. You just throw them in there, close the lid, secure it, and flush. Clean cat without getting clawed to death. I would suggest getting out of the way fast after you open the lid though, because it is going to be hella pissed.
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posting in a girl on internet thread
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I remember you, so fragile and tortured was your very essence.
I saw in your eyes - the most beautiful eyes I've ever encountered in my short life - an accidental scream for help. A reflection of my own trauma, amplified tenfold.
You were me, you were not myself, almost an opposite and yet a tremendous exaggeration - infinitely more beautiful, intelligent, victimized. Scared.
I saw fear, or rather I sensed it through the noninterpretable things I did see. I thought that if I could help you, I'd somehow inevitably and permanently be helped. And then I could help everyone else in the world.
I wanted to reach out and pull you close to me, nurture you and see that soul-twisting smile of yours - so warm; so genuine; so rare.
You'd be new, and yet the same. You'd touch people and they'd feel the serpents of hate and monotony relinquish constriction around their souls. A modern-day saint.
Maybe it's good that you're not real. Maybe no innocent should harbor such terror and self-loathing. But then, who will save us?
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Those witches, equal parts venerable, honourable and horrible, had arrayed their mindflayed flocks of men-at-arms upon the field.
"Listen here, my brothers!" I bellowed, my breastplate rang triumphantly as my chest heaved against it, "I alone will seek those three on the battlefield!"
"Alone, my Lord Jauffre?" The words were muffled through a closed Sallet. I turned to see the heraldry of my closest friend, a comrade at arms from our myriad campaigns. He was my trusted constable, the equally famed and despised knights-hospitaller, Antoni of Wut.
"So you have arrived at last from the North! Your men will be vital for the coming battle." I faced the men en-masse then.
"On the field, I will seek her on foot. Alone. For I alone am immune to their succubean magicks." My men lowered their heads, ashamed and acutely aware of their own propensity for betrayal. I paid no mind, and struck out alone across the barren, lifeless and war ravaged valley known as l'rebondissez-moi.
I met her there in the centre of the valley amongst the salted fields and burnt farmhouses. Flanked by her lesser Succubi, the Queen herself sat atop a horse with no eyes. Rodents swarmed around the horse's feet, up its legs and ran in through the horse's nose. One by one, they came scurrying out the ear.
The Sky Queen's head was down-cast, as men always claimed to see her. Her two women regarded me cooly as I approached on foot. They greeted me in unison, predictably using their wiles and angelic voices in the manner that had made so many smaller, less stoic men go mad with rapture. I dare not apply to parchment what exactly was said, for even in ink I fear it would retain its horrible power.
They watched me stand idle, unaffected by their powers. I was tired of this conflict, and moreover I was offended by the abuse they had just done to all decency with their attempts to defile this ancient, sacred custom of warriors offering one another their respect.
Tersely, I said, "Very well then. I will look for you on the battlefield."
I turned and walked away. I am no orator. I will let history write a better quote for me.
When I returned, there was no noise. No jangling of arms, no whinnying of horses. My men had stared in awe as I rejected the whores and returned maintaining my free will and sanity. My display of solidarity had bolstered their confidence.
"When the time comes, Antoni, both armies will each run down towards the valley with our soldiers behind us. As for the three? We are going for each other."
The feeling was half of relief, half of despair. No man wanted to face any of the three. No man thought that one man could defeat them all, either.
"As your advisor, I must speak out," Antoni the hospitaller who had learned to wage war over decades upon gorey decades against men, arrogant men who thought their childish scheeming and plotting were relevant to the outcome, began to council me. I allowed him to continue, "You could lure their brainless masses to attack with a feint of your own. I would lead it. Cause them to abandon their advantageous position, then call in your reserves from on the reverse slope and envelope them."
"This is not a war, this is suicide." I quietly whispered to his ear, so as to not discredit his wisdom in front of his men, "It's not a battle meant to be won."
"Well then I suggest we regroup, we wait for forces abroad to realize they are next to face the Sky Queen and enlist their aid!" He gave me more sound advice, as he had always. The suggestion was sound advice for fighting any king who had any nation behind him.
"This is each of us destroying ourselves."
"All battles are meant to be won."
"THIS IS A BATTLE FOR HONOR!" I shouted as I lost my patience with his reasoning. Our assembled lords looked on, becoming more aware of the bleakness of their circumstances.
"The victor determines what is recorded for all time. Once we smash their empty, soul-less heads upon our gauntlets, you can have your histories say you ran down the hill and fought in the valley all by yourself. None of us would care to call you a liar for it."
"What others think is irrelevant. This is for my honor. This is about Her."
"I see. You are the only man who has survived meeting any one them in person and you remain intrinsically free of their control. You have some way to protect yourself from becoming another shambling, crying, miserable pawn in their thrall. I will trust you, I will die to prevent more men from being lured into her gaze." I heard more of Antoni's words. They did not inspire me. The other men cheered and yowled. They were not aware of their luck, for they would only be putting their mortal bodies at risk.
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Cracky-chan was recently awarded the Nobel Prize for being the best person. Second place was Kayne West.
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There is no picture, you have been math trolled and that is all.
Idiot failure.
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Cracky-chan can shoot lasers out of her eyes. I seen her do it one time.
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I suggest that we beat you for being a paedophile. Here in England, if you get a mob to beat someone for you, then you don't have worry about gaol.
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Kinda cute, but I'm more of a cracky-chan guy myself. Why are there tubes & stuff coming out of her pants?
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Actually I think it would be you that failed.
And nobody here gives a fuck about 4chan or its "memes".
Except for cracky-chan, who is not a "meme", but a human being, and a cute one at that.
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Listen, I'm not interested in your shitty liberal definitions of pedophilia and that it isn't pedophilia as long as you all sing kumba yo together. Go tell the_mad_poster about that. Maybe if Kerry was President you could get away with this crap.
F A C T: your attraction to Cracky-Chan is P E D O P H I L I A.
Do you sick perverted fucker understand that or do I have to visit you and explain it again with the help of a baseball bat?! HUH?! I'm sure no one is going to put me into jail for beating a worthless loser like you to a bloody pulp. On the contrary, the police and the judge will gratulate and thank me for ridding the world from such a dangerous piece of shit who preys on our children.
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Switch to obsessing over cracky-chan ASAP.
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>>Cracky-Chan's age
>>Damn, I thought she was 17! Now someone tells me she's 14. And I was so looking forward to fucking her next year.
>>Now how old is she really?
> Since you're on IRC with her right now why don't you ask her yourself?
I'm not the IRC guy, I had plans of my own. But now that he's got a tactical advantage... anyway.
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I found out what irc channel cracky-chan uses
Fuck yeh! Now I plan to get to know her by starting an internet romance, which rapidly becomes a real life physical romance. I might be 5000 miles from her, but I will succeed.
First problem is one of courage. I need the courage to private message her. Someone give me strength! Maybe I should have some booze, then do it. Not too much so that I make an idiot of myself, but enough to dazzle her with my insouciance.
Even if I don't, I have the irc channel, you lot don't, and I am going ot keep working at it till i succeed.
**
You unpatriotic race traitor scum, can't you find some nice woman in your own country?
**
I am white, I am british, and I have reasonable amounts of money (enough to bring her over here anyway, for at elast a week, especially witht his cheap dollar). Cracky-chan, with her cutesy furry ears and red retrousse nose, has slight goth tendencies I think, she will be mine as soon as I convince her to agree to a phonecall. When she hears my adorable english accent.. mmm.
What airline do sassy, sexy internet birds like? I am thinking BA, but maybe Virgin is more appropriate, hmm?
**
Let's hope she's into older, burly men.
Considering Ms. Cracky is only 14 you'll have a hard time justifying to the US and British governments why you are flying her out to spend time with you. If you do go through with your plan you will be sent to live in exile in Wales for your crime of trying to fuck a 14 year old girl. Whilst there your only permitted sexual relations will be with the sheep and the thistles.
**
You are right, I may have to wait 18 months. Alternatively I can pop over to Amsterdam and get rooms in a cheap hotel. See how things go.
Legal question: given the age of consent in the UK is 16, but in America it is 25 (or whatever), is it illegal to fly her over at 16 and fuck her? I tend to think not, but it is best to be sure.
Hmmn, ah, in holland, "sex between an adult and a young person between the ages of 12 and 16 is permitted by law, as long as the young person consents." Hooray! If I get her here, I can then get a cheap Ryannair flight. Although, I have heard recently (and worryingly) that there has been a change in UK law stating that if you get your leg over a sub-16yo girl abroad where it is legal, you are still committing a crime as far as the UK police are concerned, but I think that is targetted at holidaymakers going to Thailand. I am not sure if this sort of transgressive law would apply within the EU as well.
I think we all have a mutual interest in considerign these questions, any lawyers in the house?
**
She's British, you daft sod. Look at the electric sockets in her photos - definitely conforming to BS1363.
Maybe she even lives in your town!
**
omg I'm so excited. Well spotted.
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I dreamt last night that cracky-chan ate my balls. By that I mean that I dreamt that she cut them off with a rusty knife and then fried them in lard and ate them slowly in front of me. It was so hot, when I woke up my pyjamas were totally sticky!
**
NEWSFLASH
nobody but YOU cares about cracky whore.
**
WRONG
i care about her also
**
you're the same person, faggot king
**
i'm not the original poster, so there must be at least two two care for cracky-chan therefore that invalidates your theory
**
not unless you prove that you're not the original poster, cockgobbler.
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Cracky-chan is on-topic because she is sweet, beautiful, nice, and wonderful... and I base that solely on the pictures I've seen of her and the 15 minutes of research I did using Google. Call me a good judge of character.
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>It's odd that you say that, considering that Craig and Trollaxor are responsible for 99% of the modern trolling (Mercatur, cracky-chan, Ilovebees, DDR, Penis Fox, "muh dick", ITITYTSTFU, etc) of which you approve.
I agree, if by "modern trolling" you mean "the propagation of AIDS".
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OH NOES
Cracky-chan CUTS herself!
**
That looks absolutely nothing like Cracky-chan or anybody like her. The skin, face, and hair are completely different, and the nose isn't red.
**
True, Cracky-Chan is butt ugly and this chick is crazy hot!
**
I think you got those reversed, n00b.
**
I think not, bad teeth furry fanbox.
**
What part of "She is cute, that is why she is called cracky-chan" do you have trouble understanding, moran?
**
Which part of "she ain't cute at all" are you not understanding, you taste challenged fucktard?
**
Shut up, Alice. I know you are jealous.
**
Please post a link to the source of this picture. Thanks.
**
I tried to find the source. God knows I tried. But I failed.
**
Some clues to the source may be found in the filename of the picture.
Imageshack names it 11086502581520np.jpg, which means that the original upload filename was 1108650258152.jpg as it appends three 'junk' characters after upload.
This looks similar to the format used on the *chan boards, which is [unix timestamp][3 digit serial].[extension]. Indeed, 1108650258 is the time_t value for today at 14:24:18 GMT.
I tried accessing http://data.4channel.org/*/src/1108650258152.jpg, and changing the * to all the different board names, but to no avail. It has either expired or was not on 4chan.
Anyone got any other ideas please?
**
Yes, I indeed got it from 4chan. And I asked the homos there like a hundred times where they got it from, but they wouldn't tell me.
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