Author Topic: April Fools 2009  (Read 40256 times)

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Offline Andrew Ryan

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #30 on: March 31, 2009, 05:01:20 pm »
Exactlieth, myeth goodeth sireth!
"Don't worry 'bout me. I wouldn't worry about me. Don't you worry about me. Don't you worry 'bout me!" - Talking Heads, Don't Worry About the Government

Offline Cyst

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #31 on: March 31, 2009, 05:01:47 pm »
Nothing. I have done testing.
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Offline Raz

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #32 on: March 31, 2009, 05:01:56 pm »
I agree that this is annoying...

Offline Saganmaineiac

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #33 on: March 31, 2009, 05:18:29 pm »
AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!!!
"Always look on the bright side of life!" *whistles*

You must be REALLY fun at parties.

Offline Galactic-Warrior

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #34 on: March 31, 2009, 05:38:58 pm »
AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Come on! Join the screaming! :D
In space, no one can hear you scream unless your transmitting it on the right radio frequency.

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Offline Cyst

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #35 on: March 31, 2009, 05:40:56 pm »
We come from the land of the ice and snow from the midnight sun where the cool winds blow. ;D
DEATH TO DAESH! In solidarity with Rojava!
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Offline Hydromancerx

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #36 on: March 31, 2009, 05:42:00 pm »
AAAAAAAA, BBBBBBBBB, CCCCCCC .... YYYYY, ZZZZZ *falls asleep*

Offline Daxx

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #37 on: March 31, 2009, 05:42:23 pm »

Offline Kitkat

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #38 on: March 31, 2009, 05:45:44 pm »
W H Y  T H E  H - E - D O U B L E - H O C K E Y S T I C K S  I S  T H I S  H A P P E N I N G ! ! ! H a , I f o u n d  a w a y  a r o u n d  i t ! ! !

t h e

H A ! ! !

( O h ,  w a i t ,  t h i s  i s  t h e  w a y  G e c  p r o v i d e d  t h e  t r a n s l a t i o n s . . .

D a r n .  I  t h o u g h t  I  w a s  s m a r t  f o r  a  s e c o n d  t h e r e .
« Last Edit: March 31, 2009, 05:49:45 pm by Kitkat »
Goddamnit kitkat, you make me look late
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Offline Krakow Sam

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #39 on: March 31, 2009, 05:46:36 pm »
Quote from: Galactic-Warrior link=kilter=15901.msg688919#msg688919 date=1238546338
Come on! Join teh screaming! :D

Let's not.

Listen to this handsome devil.
Sam is basically right, he's just cranky.

Offline Cyst

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #40 on: March 31, 2009, 05:48:34 pm »
Quote from: Kitkat link=kilter=15901.msg688929#msg688929 date=1238546744
W H Y  T H E  H - E - D O U B L E - H O C K E Y S T I C K S  I S  T H I S  H A P P E N I N G ! ! ! H a , I f o u n d  a w a y  a r o u n d  i t ! ! !

t h e

H A ! ! !
Just look at the USSS thread for an easier to read way.
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Offline UFO King

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #41 on: March 31, 2009, 05:49:11 pm »
LET US DESTROY TH3 CULT OF TH3 EVIL RAPISTS OF TH3 ENGLISH LANGUAGE!
I came, I saw, I went back to bed.

Offline Cyst

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #42 on: March 31, 2009, 05:51:58 pm »
You mean the inventors of the English language?
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Oh come now, Lurk.

The internet is a magical place, where linguistic and dialectic possibilities are endless. Why not embrace those variations and see where they lead you.

Offline Grangan

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #43 on: March 31, 2009, 05:53:30 pm »
It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the vile wind, slipped quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a colored poster, too large for indoor display, had been tacked to the wall. It depicted simply an enormous face, more than a meter wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a heavy black mustache and ruggedly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who was thirty-nine, and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting several times on the way. On each landing, opposite the lift shaft, the poster with the enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived that the eyes follow you about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption beneath it ran.
Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do with the production of pig iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable. The instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed) but there was no way of shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the meagerness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform of the Party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by coarse soap and blunt razor blades and the cold of the winter that had just ended.
Outside, even through the shut window pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals, and though the sun was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no color in anything except the posters that were plastered everywhere. The black-mustachio'd face gazed down from every commanding corner. There was one on the house front immediately opposite. BIG BROTHER Is WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes looked deep into Winston's own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner, flapped fitfully in the wind' alternately covering and uncovering the single word INGSOC. In the far distance a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs, hovered for an instant like a blue-bottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the Police Patrol, snooping into people's windows. The patrols did not matter, however. Only the Thought Police mattered.
Behind Winston's back the voice from the telescreen was still babbling away about pig iron and the overfulfillment of the Ninth Three Year Plan. The telescreen received and transmitted simultaneously. Any sound that Winston made, above the level of a very low whisper, would be picked up by it; moreover, so long as he remained within the field of vision which the metal plaque commanded, he could be seen as well as heard. There was of course no way of knowing whether you were being watched at any given moment. How often, or on what system, the Thought Police plugged in on any individual wire was guesswork. It was even conceivable that they watched everybody all the time. But at any rate they could plug in your wire whenever they wanted to. You had to live - did live, from habit that became instinct-in the assumption that every sound you made was overheard, and, except in darkness, every movement scrutinized.
Winston kept his back turned to the telescreen. It was safer; though, as he well knew, even a back can be revealing. A kilometer away the Ministry of Truth, his place of work, towered vast and white above the grimy landscape. This, he thought with a sort of vague distaste, this was London, chief city of Airstrip One, itself the third most populous of the provinces of Oceania. He tried to squeeze out some childhood memory that should tell him whether London had always been quite like this. Were there always these vistas of rotting nineteenth-century houses, their sides shored up with balks of timber, their windows patched with cardboard and their roofs with corrugated iron, their crazy garden walls sagging in all directions? And the bombed sites where the plaster dust swirled in the air and the willow herb straggled over the heaps of rubble; and the places where the bombs had cleared a larger path and there had sprung up sordid colonies of wooden dwellings like chicken houses? But it was no use, he could not remember: nothing remained of his childhood except a series of bright-lit tableaux, occurring against no background and mostly unintelligible.
The Ministry of Truth-Minitrue, in Newspeak-was startlingly different from any other object in sight. It was an enormous pyramidal structure of glittering white concrete, soaring up, terrace after terrace, three hundred meters into the air. From where Winston stood it was just possible to read, picked out on its white face in elegant lettering, the three slogans of the Party:
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.
Twas Brillig and the slithy toves did gyre and gimble in the wabe, all mimsy were the borogoves and the mome raths outgrabe.

Offline Kitkat

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Re: teh gods r April Foolsed u employees!
« Reply #44 on: March 31, 2009, 05:58:16 pm »
H a v e  y o u  n o t i c e d  t h a t  h a l f  t h e  l i n k s  o n  t h e  s i t e  s t o p p e d  w o r k i n g ? L i k e ( H A ! ! ! ) t h e  l i n k s  t o  q u o t e s ?

E D I T : G r a n g a n ,  I  o n l y  r e a d  t h e  f i r s t  f e w  s e n t e n c e s  a n d  I  l a u g h e d  o u t  l o u d .
Goddamnit kitkat, you make me look late
Come check out The Bino and The Ni'Calls
(Or don't these are old and embarrasing)