Sometimes I wonder why that place even exists
forum
This is exactly why I don't look in #osu
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Topic Starter
Sometimes I wonder why that place even exists
NO SIREE,
NOT TODAY
#osu is the best place if you feel too smart. It literally will reduce the IQ by 10 every sec in there
serrai clicked on it anyways
Topic Starter
We have reached the level of forum death where rick rolls and hypercam vids are considered the peak of humour
TeeArctic1 wrote:
We have reached the level of forum death where rick rolls and hypercam vids are considered the peak of humour
Guess we reached it a while ago.
That deceitful abraker has been posting his rick roll trolls for a while now.
So why am I still falling for them?
heh i got an ad
Why are you not using some adblocksemaphore wrote:
heh i got an ad
because i dont lose my temper at ads like an aspiejohnmedina999 wrote:
Why are you not using some adblocksemaphore wrote:
heh i got an ad
levesterz wrote:
#osu is the best place if you feel too smart. It literally will reduce the IQ by 10 every sec in there
I think you'll lose more than that...
abraker stop this is the 3rd time I've had to clear my browser history
Topic Starter
I always find a way for people to fall for it
but this time if only you have not used the new site...
only the ones the use the old site have bullet proof protection against this one
but this time if only you have not used the new site...
only the ones the use the old site have bullet proof protection against this one
He's evolving, mutating into something stronger. Mankind was never supposed to get this far! It'll turn into an abomination I say!
abraker wrote:
I always find a way for people to fall for it
but this time if only you have not used the new site...
only the ones the use the old site have bullet proof protection against this one
or if you use dark theme, which i do
that works too yknow
Old site is superiorabraker wrote:
I always find a way for people to fall for it
but this time if only you have not used the new site...
only the ones the use the old site have bullet proof protection against this one
Topic Starter
dark theme is a win, so you may be forgiven for using the new site
Oh no I accidentally clicked on the link again, forgetting what was waiting for me.
Wait new site have dark theme? Well time to mov
.. oh waot the reply box still took 2/3 of my screen nvm then.
.. oh waot the reply box still took 2/3 of my screen nvm then.
he truly is a mad scientist
but he's not cool
not cool enough to turn himself into a banana morty!
boom, big reveal!
but he's not cool
not cool enough to turn himself into a banana morty!
boom, big reveal!
The fifth horseman of the apocalypse approaches
It's too blurry to look real.
This is what a real box looks like
As a reward for clicking you get kawaii girls.
Topic Starter
About 10 years ago, a music specialist traveled to northern Russia with a church group to teach musical arts. One of the instruments taught was recorder. They bought about 20 cheap ones that would be easy to transport and they were planning to just give them to the peasants.
One girl, Sveta, who was probably 11 or 12 years old at the time, was so happy that she would get to keep her recorder that she cried. She told them that she always wanted one, but her parents couldn't afford it. Moved by her story, the music specialist gave his, which was a slightly less cheap then the ones he had given away, having a hard case and coming with a fingering chart.
A few days after the lessons, several of the peasant children came to the church that was hosting the music specialist again. Sveta found him and wanted to show what she had been up to. She had made her own manuscript paper, copied one of the songs that the violinists had learned at the lessons, used the fingering chart that came with her recorder to learn the notes she didn't yet know how to play, and taught herself to play the whole song on recorder. The music specialist couldn't believe it- this song was a lot harder than anything he had taught because we only had about 10 days at the lesson.
When the music specialist was leaving, the peasants came to the to see him off. Sveta handed him a momento, and inside she had written a note in his language thanking him for the recorder and saying that he was the best music teacher she ever had.
Years later war broke out and Sveta was sent to the gulag. She played her special recorder for the other inmates until one day a guard heard her playing. The guard brought her to play for the other guards, who were all delighted by her magical tunes. Then winter came, and when food supplies ran low the guards would not feed Sveta or the other prisoners.
One cold night, Sveta was forced to boil her recorder until it could be melted into a broth. Sveta sipped the broth just to stay warm, and to put a little plastic on her distended ribs. After that day, there was no more music. The guards never asked Sveta to play for them anymore, because she had nothing to play. The next winter came, and was even colder. This time, Sveta could not make any more recorder broth. Sveta could not stay warm, and Sveta could not put any plastic on her distended ribs.
One morning, the guard who first heard Sveta play brought her a new recorder to play, but it was too late. Sveta was frozen, dead in the snow, next to a half eaten kazoo she had whittled from an old frostbitten toe. Some say that on cold winter nights in the gulag, you can still hear a recorder playing on the wind.
this is exactly why i don't bother with chatting unless someone dms meabraker wrote:
About 10 years ago, a music specialist traveled to northern Russia with a church group to teach musical arts. One of the instruments taught was recorder. They bought about 20 cheap ones that would be easy to transport and they were planning to just give them to the peasants.
One girl, Sveta, who was probably 11 or 12 years old at the time, was so happy that she would get to keep her recorder that she cried. She told them that she always wanted one, but her parents couldn't afford it. Moved by her story, the music specialist gave his, which was a slightly less cheap then the ones he had given away, having a hard case and coming with a fingering chart.
A few days after the lessons, several of the peasant children came to the church that was hosting the music specialist again. Sveta found him and wanted to show what she had been up to. She had made her own manuscript paper, copied one of the songs that the violinists had learned at the lessons, used the fingering chart that came with her recorder to learn the notes she didn't yet know how to play, and taught herself to play the whole song on recorder. The music specialist couldn't believe it- this song was a lot harder than anything he had taught because we only had about 10 days at the lesson.
When the music specialist was leaving, the peasants came to the to see him off. Sveta handed him a momento, and inside she had written a note in his language thanking him for the recorder and saying that he was the best music teacher she ever had.
Years later war broke out and Sveta was sent to the gulag. She played her special recorder for the other inmates until one day a guard heard her playing. The guard brought her to play for the other guards, who were all delighted by her magical tunes. Then winter came, and when food supplies ran low the guards would not feed Sveta or the other prisoners.
One cold night, Sveta was forced to boil her recorder until it could be melted into a broth. Sveta sipped the broth just to stay warm, and to put a little plastic on her distended ribs. After that day, there was no more music. The guards never asked Sveta to play for them anymore, because she had nothing to play. The next winter came, and was even colder. This time, Sveta could not make any more recorder broth. Sveta could not stay warm, and Sveta could not put any plastic on her distended ribs.
One morning, the guard who first heard Sveta play brought her a new recorder to play, but it was too late. Sveta was frozen, dead in the snow, next to a half eaten kazoo she had whittled from an old frostbitten toe. Some say that on cold winter nights in the gulag, you can still hear a recorder playing on the wind.
Ever since then, recorder broth has become a specialty in russian gourmet cuisines.