Stilton: My 'Erm, if you're interested, there's a sale on,' GOG email arrived, along with the usual assorted inquiries about how happy I am with my genitals, do I want a Russian nymphomaniac to do strange things to me with a feather, how long I can do 'it' for before breaking into a sweat and do I prefer cream with my coffee or Viagra. What kind of insanity is this world degenerating into? If these were cold-callers knocking at my door the'd be covered in bruises. The internet, however, allows them to peddle their crap without risk of injury. Grrrrrr is my only response. Followed by grrrrr.
On a brighter note, I hope everyone's having a good mornoonevenight and enjoying the sale ;-)
Those are easy answers.
In no particular order, that would be 3 hours so long as it's occurring in a meat locker, Red Vines, generally, and what's the point if that isn't present.
The world isn't any more insane, it's just easier to see how insane it's always been.
Other than contemplating where to find a vendor for healthy human kidneys at 7 a.m. on a Thursday morning, I can't complain. =)
j0ekerr: Well it was
there and now it isn't. How do you explain that? And don't tell me that a wizard did it.
LaPtiteBete: I have nothing to do with that, I swear !! :-|
I bought the game for myself, I'm a big selfish owl ! \o/
Oh yeah, you're just
terrible. ;)
