Go Blow Jesus Out Your Ass

[Little Rik]

Giacomino the elf told me so and believe me Giacomino is always right.

For values of "right" → 0.

Stuff the little blighter up your rectum.

Gee, you want me to lose my virginity?  

I think you didn't mean Ast, did you?  

[Astreja]

Gee, you want me to lose my virginity?

(Springy G puzzles over this remark, then realizes that Rik probably knows even less about reproductive anatomy than he knows about history)

In the interest of this thread not getting teleported to R'lyeh, let's get back to the matter at hand.  Why should we believe a probably fabricated backstory about Thomas told by Christian cultists?

[Succubus]

...(Oh, and what is it with you and those stupid fucking avatars in every post, Rik?  What are you, five years old?  Or did you colour so badly in kindergarten that you developed a pathological craving for stickers on your work?)

Actually I now find them quite handy, Its an easy way to distinguish a Rik post from a Stevell post.

[Astreja]

...(Oh, and what is it with you and those stupid fucking avatars in every post, Rik?  What are you, five years old?  Or did you colour so badly in kindergarten that you developed a pathological craving for stickers on your work?)

Actually I now find them quite handy, Its an easy way to distinguish a Rik post from a Stevell post.

I distinguish them by just reading Stevell straight up, but having to un-hide Rik posts.  I have a pathological dislike for that ugly blue bird and that damn rabbit in particular, so I use the "ignore" feature to keep that crap off the screen as much as possible.

[Minimalist]

I like this one.

[Succubus]

Actually I now find them quite handy, Its an easy way to distinguish a Rik post from a Stevell post.

I distinguish them by just reading Stevell straight up, but having to un-hide Rik posts.  I have a pathological dislike for that ugly blue bird and that damn rabbit  in particular, so I use the "ignore" feature to keep that crap off the screen as much as possible.

Aye. It's like getting home after a week and there's a whiff of something foul in the kitchen, your eye's go straight to the oven. You darn't open the door but you know you have to.