Central Saudi Arabia
July 20th, 2023

The sand swept across the lone load running through the unknown village. The buildings were run down and nearly decrepit. One could hardly imagine anyone living in these conditions, but it makes for a great hideaway if you've done a crime.

This is why Oman Sadir is there. He was part of an assassination attempt on the King of Saudi Arabia, but the group fell apart and he attempted to carry it out himself. However, he failed to kill him and has been on the run for the past 2 years. But he was being hunted, whether he knew it or not.

Aldin Mahoud slowly walked into town, past a group of children playing soccer. One of them kicked the ball passed the other children towards Aldin. They approached him and stopped. He looked at them, then at the ball. He kicked the ball in play and the children ran back to play.

Aldin was proceeding down the street. He was a young man on a mission of revenge. His purple body wrap flowed in the wind as he hastily made his way to the heart of town, where he spotted an inn. He entered through the front doors and approached the front desk.

"Good afternoon weary traveler." The man behind the desk said. "Can I get you a room?"

"No," Aldin said. He then slid a torn picture to the manager. "I want to know if you've seen this man."

The manager looked at it. He squint his eyes in the dim light of the inn. "Ah! Yes, I've seen him. He's a regular customer in my tavern."

"May I see where your tavern is?" Aldin asked.

"But of course! Can I get you anything?"

"Just some water."

Aldin was shown into the tavern and sat in the corner. He sipped his water to quench his thirst from traveling in the desert all day. The tavern was slow and silent. People came and went throughout the night. After two hours passed, Aldin's glass was half drank. He got up to leave, but then entered his target. Oman Samir walked into the tavern with a big smile on his face and a girl under his left arm. "Everyone gets a drink on me!" Aldin sat down at his table and locked his gaze on Oman. He sipped his water.

Another hour passes and Oman is making a spectacle of himself. He was obviously drunk and being foolish. A few times he even fell out of his chair. But he was still being crowded around.

Aldin kept his steely gaze. He barely touched his water the past hour for fear of having to urinate and losing his target.

The night dragged on and the tavern was being cleared out. Aldin was beginning to feel heavy eyed but he was vigilant. Eventually, Oman got up and took to the inn. Aldin watched him leave and got up and followed him. He stayed behind enough as to not arouse suspicion.

Oman walked upstairs, bragging about his money and his attempt on the King. He arrived at his room and opened the door. It closed behind them and Aldin stood at the door. He could hear the moans of the woman and the creaking of the bed. He put his hand on the hilt of his sword and braced himself. He took a breath, and then sprung into action.

He kicked the door in and swung his sword with deadly precision. It went through Oman's side, through his ribcage, and pierced his heart. Oman let out one last yell as Aldin withdrew his blade from Oman's chest. His body fell on his concubine as she screamed bloody murder. Aldin looked at her as he sheathed his sword. "Run. And never speak of this again." He said. She ran, naked, down the hall, screaming all the way.

Aldin stood over Oman's corpse and looked out the window at the desert moon. Just then he heard a voice yelling commands. "Move! He's in here!" It yelled. Then Aldin was surrounded by five heavily armored officers of the ISPF. "ISPF! Don't move!" The leader yelled.

Aldin froze. He was staring down two shotguns and three SMG's. He considered his options. He looked at the window and bolted to it. "Fire!" the squad leader yelled. One officer pumped a shell in Aldin's direction, but Aldin was too fast and was out of the window and landed in the street. "Get after him Officer Yakami!" The squad leader yelled.

"Affirmative, sir." She said as she leapt out the window, hot on Aldin's trail. She wielded her club and chased him down the street. Aldin took a sharp right into a narrow alley. She followed and saw him leap over a fence with no problems. She took the fence as if it was nothing and stayed persistent. Aldin then jumped off a wall and onto a roof top. Officer Yakami followed him in the same manner and was greeted by Aldin's blade.

"Stay your chase. I do not wish to hurt you."

"You are involved with the murder of Oman Sadir. You must be taken in for examination."

"I don't think that's possible."

"I don't think you have a choice." Officer Yakami said. She then moved with cat-like reflexes and used her club to knock Aldin's blade across the roof, and with another swing, clubbed him in the head, leaving him unconscious. He fell to the ground and Officer Yakami proceeded to restrain him. She grabbed his sword and carried him down the roof back to her squad.

"I assume he's been restrained properly?" The squad leader asked.

"Yes sir, Commander Heider." Officer Yakami said. "Shall we take him in?"

"Yes." Commander Heider said. "Who knew we'd find not only Oman Sadir, but the Desert Swordsman himself?"

"Jackpot." Another officer said.

As I was browsing along on the GameFAQs website, I came across this topic. It's a discussion about the VA of Ash Ketchum from the Pokemon series, and how she was the VA for the Pokemon Trainer in Super Smash Bros. Brawl.

I made a statement about Funimation on the topic. And any of my friends know what I mean. And you will too.

Funimation took over the Tenchi Muyo! series and continued the original story. This was a few years after the events with Dr. Clay and events that transpired put the series in their hands, either fully or partially. But the story isn't important; you can watch it yourself. This is me unleashing my nerd rage about VA's.

The first 13 episodes of the series had great English voice actors. Everything went off without a hitch vocally. But then Funimation came in and shat all over it.

Prime examples:

Ryoko: Had a voice that was both sensual and tough. However, If women had testicles, she would have been kicked in them, as this is the only way she should sound like that in the Funimation dub.

Mihoshi: Very child like, but now she sounds like a squeaky toy from hell!

Washu: Also childlike, yet deep. Now just listen to Rosanne Barr and you have a good idea of what she sounds like.

Tenchi: Some how went from mature young man to a squeaky voiced monster.

Tenchi's Dad and Grandpa: Both use the same VA. You get an F for effort, Funimation!

I understand things happen; Contract disputes, leaving to do other things, retirement, or heaven forbid, death. My point being, I can now symphasize with anyone in the same ship as this. I cant watch this series anymore with out wanting to gouge my eardrums to shreds. Now I'm just going to switch to Japanese with subtitles.

Think I'm just an angry Anime douche? Well look at the Aladin trilogy.

Genie was voiced by fast talking comedian Robin Williams in the first flick. Then in the sequel, he was replaced by Dan Castellaneta, the VA for Homer in The Simpsons. In the third film, Disney said "Euh... no." and brought Williams back on.

Even though they live in obscurity, it's a prime example of "Nothing beats the original."

Seriously, were you even trying to find good voice actors Funimation? If you do continue the series, bring them back or find better replacements so I don't want to thrash the nearest cute kitten out of rage!

New York City, New York
July 12, 2023

Gun fire was erupting from the firing range just on the edge of the city. This indoor arena sported 15 stations, at which there was one man firing the M39 Rifle at targets down range. This was Darnell Hunt, participating in his favorite past time; exercising the second amendment.

"Hey Darnell!" His friend called. "Is that the new M39 Rifle?"

"Sure is, Brian." He said. Brian Longstreet is an avid hunter who met Darnell a few years ago at a National Rifle Association convention in upstate New York. They started to talk about their favorite weapons and that led them to a local pool hall where they forged their friendship over a game of pool. "Wanna fire it?" Darnell asked.

"Hell yeah, mate!" He took the gun and looked down the sights. "Nice light weight. Set you back much?"

"Yeah, try over four grand. But it's worth every pretty penny. Go ahead! Try it!" Darnell insisted.

Brian lifted the rifle and aimed down range. He spotted some targets and fired. "It's got nice recoil." He flipped the safety on and gave it back to Darnell. "That's a great find!"

"Isn't it though? It's one of my favorite guns. Best part is it doesn't jam as much as older guns do." Darnell said matter-of-factly.

"Well put your money where your mouth is Darnell. See if it can out perform a true classic." And with that, Brian pulled out his M16. He assembled it and looked at Darnell. "Up for some sport?" he said as he raised his eyebrow.

"You're on!" He slapped down 50 dollars, as did Brian. They took their positions as they prepared to show off. The range was being prepared for the show that was about to start.

"Everyone, clear the range! Weapons free!" The owner of the range yelled through a megaphone. "Gentlemen, you may signal when you are ready!"

"Ready!" Darnell yelled.

"Ready!" Brian yelled.

"And...3...2...1... Fire!" Targets popped up down range and were sent back down as soon as they appeared. Furious gunfire, loud bangs, and spent shells filled the range as fellow enthusiasts looked on. Each participant was hitting their target with deadly precision, eventually ending in a stalemate.

Bullet riddled targets littered the battlefield as each man lowered their weapon. "You both shot the same number of targets." The owner yelled. "We shall end this with a quick draw competition. Take a rest while we set it up." They sat their weapons down and sat on a nearby bench.

"I'm gonna get you this time Darnell!" Brian said.

"Not a chance you British bastard." Darnell smiled. The range workers were setting up the final showdown as the guys recuperated. The owner of the range approached them.

"Alright gentlemen. This will be a quick-draw competition. You will use these pistols to knock the target down when it appears. The first to do so, wins."

"Sounds fair." Darnell said. "Are you set up?"

"Yes sir, Mr. Hunt."

Each man took a pistol and stood at their station. They looked down range with 1000 yard stares. To the victor went bragging rights. To the loser, they owed a round of beers afterwards.

"Shooters, are you ready?" The owner called out. They both nodded. They stood, eagerly awaiting their shot. Their hearts quickened and their fingers got jittery. Their focus could not be broken. This was for all the marbles.

Just then, the targets popped out. Each man whipped their pistol out and fired a single round. The targets fell as they stood, still aiming down range. "Well, who won?" A random patron yelled.

"Let me slow the tape down." The owner yelled. He sat in silence as he looked at the footage of the targets falling. "Alright, I've got my verdict. I'll be right down." He left his booth and approached Darnell and Brian.

"Well?" Brian asked.

The owner delayed himself. "Darnell's target fell .011 seconds faster. Darnell wins!" Applause flooded the range as Darnell bowed to the crowd. As it died down, one lone man was left clapping.

"Bravo, Mr. Hunt. That was some impressive shooting. But maybe you would be interested in a real challenge. Interested?" He asked.

Darnell thought about it. "Hmm. It's an interesting challenge. I accept your challenge! But not today, because tonight the drinks are on this guy!" He said, pointing to Brian.

"Don't remind me, mate." Brian groaned.

"Then it's settled." The stranger said. "How's 2:30 PM tomorrow for you?"

Darnell extended his hand and they shook on it. "Agreed! I'll see you tomorrow." He said.

Later that evening, Brian and Darnell arrived at the bar and sat down. "Two Millers, please!" Darnell yelled. Just then two bottles of beer slid down the bar into their hands. They drank from their bottles and sat, focused on the bar.

"Think you can beat that yuppie?" Brian asked.

Darnell took another swig of beer. "Hey, this is me we're talking about. I can take him easy."

"Well go easy on the drinking if you want to stay focused."

"Hey, you're just saying that because you're paying for my beers you sore loser."

"No Darnell," Brian said. "I just want you focused for tomorrow is all; if you pound the beers, you're as much use as the Maginot Line was to France."

"Oh fuck off man. Let me have some fun. Let me have another barkeep!" And then another beer came sliding down the table.

The next morning at the range, Darnell showed up a little hung over. "You think you're gonna be okay, mate?" Brian asked.

"I'll be fine. Just watch out for stray bullets!" Darnell laughed. A gun went off and Darnell grabbed his head. "Ah shit! That hurts my head!"

"Lemme get you some earplugs." Brian offered. He got some from his pocket and handed them to Darnell, who proceeded to put them in his ears. "Is that better?"

"Not by much but it helps. So where is this guy anyway? Did he chicken out?" Darnell asked. Just then, a loud slam rang from behind them, making Darnell wince in pain.

"Not by a long shot." The man who challenged him yesterday said. He had a case beside him and he opened it. It was a platinum plated M39. "Speaking of long shots, care to do some precision shots for our challenge?"

"You're speaking my tongue now stranger." Darnell grabbed his M39 and approached the range. "What's your game?"

"I've instructed the operator to set an electronic spring target down range. It is very small and will appear very quickly. I have supplied you with special ammo which will emit a signal when it strikes. The first to shoot it wins. Now take your position." The stranger said. Both men approached their station and stood at the ready.

"Live weapons! All bystanders clear the area!" The operator yelled. Everyone left the two men ready to fire.

Their focus was intense and unbreakable. But even though the target would surprise them, they were in a zone. Their hands were steady and their gazes were unblinking.

It was eerily quiet. No one dared breathe. No one dared move.

Just then the target sprang up. Without hesitation, they both fired their guns once.

They stood there, looking down range. Neither one moved.

"I have the results." The operator said. He looked at the monitor. "Mr. Hunt shot the target .0001 seconds faster! Darnell wins again!" The crowd erupted in yelling for the victor. The defeated man looked at him.

"Well do I get some respect?" Darnell asked.

"You do." The challenger asked. "And then some." He approached him and slipped a card into Darnell's hand. "Call us if you want to save the world." And with that he took his gun and left.

Back at the bar, Darnell looked at the card. "What do you think? Is he a crazy tit or what?" Brian asked.

"I don't know." Darnell said. "But I guess it's worth a shot. I've always wanted to save the world!" Darnell grinned. He dialed the number on his cell phone. "Hey this is Darnell. You've got yourself a deal. I'll meet you where you specified." He then drank his beer.

July 11th, 2023
Jersey City, New Jersey

At 6:00 AM, an alarm rang loudly in a dark apartment in Jersey City. A hand groggily turned it off from under the covers. The woman occupying the bed slowly rose from the mattress, revealing her naked body. She swung her legs to the floor, stood up, and slowly moved across the floor. She stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself with a smile. "Good morning, beautiful!" She said. She entered the bathroom and proceeded to take a shower.

She emerged from the bathroom fresh for the day. She opened her closet, pulled out her uniform, and clothed herself. "Officer Rosalyn Trippiani reporting for duty!" She thought to herself.

Rosalyn left her apartment and descended to the subterranean garage of the complex, helmet in arm. She made her way to a red motorcycle parked in the corner. She donned her helmet and mounted the bike and started it up. It roared to life as she pulled out of the parking spot to head off to the Precinct.

It was shaping up to be a beautiful day in New Jersey, with the sun barely breaking over the horizon. The streets were nearly empty as Rosalyn sped down the street. She felt daring. She started to shift her weight to the back of the bike and it rose off the ground. Steadying her balance, she rode down the street at a death defying speed. As she approached a yellow light at an intersection, she quickly got the front wheel on the street and skidded to a halt.

She stopped dead at the line and had a death grip on her handle bars. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was breathing heavily and shook as she slowly looked around. "I hope to God no one saw that." She whispered. The light turned green as she slowly drove off.

She arrived at the Precinct ten minutes later and parked behind the building. She entered through the back and was greeted warmly by Dallas Koenig, a fellow officer. He was a Texas born German immigrant who was built like an ox. Rumor around the department is that he can lift a small compact car off the ground, but no one knows for sure. "Guten morgen!" He said in German.

"Buongiorno!" She responded in Italian. She smiled at him as she grabbed a cup of coffee. "Did you have a good night?"

"It was long. I was here from 8 in the morning to 11 at night. I was just swamped with paperwork all night." He responded.

"Poor guy. But that's the cost of protecting people, right?" Rosalyn said. Dallas laughed. "Oh well, today's a new day. And new crimes, so be alert." She started to walk towards the front desk as she was interrupted by her Sergeant.

"Morning Officer Trippiani," he said.

"Morning," She responded. "What's up?"

He cleared his throat. "We received a call this morning not so long ago about a loud disturbance that sounded like a motorcycle racing at dangerous speeds. That wouldn't be you would it?"

Rosalyn turned red. "It might have sir. I'm sorry, it won't happen again." She sulked away into the back room.

Later that morning, Dallas approached Rosalyn with the day's patrol routes. "It looks like we're on patrol together. Ready?"

"Alright, let's go then." They left the precinct and approached a cruiser. "You drive Dal." They got in and Dallas pulled away from the precinct.

It was quiet in the cruiser, save for the radio traffic of the police blotter. Rosalyn was watching the city pass by from her seat. Dallas sighed loudly. "What's the matter big guy?"

"It's been very peaceful. I want some action!" Dallas yelled.

"Oh don't worry," She said. "Take advantage of the tranquility to clear your head."

Just then, a voice came on the radio, preceded by static. "Officer Trippiani," It said. "Listen to me carefully. I want to meet you later on the east side of the city."

Rosalyn grabbed the radio and spoke. "Who is this? This is a police frequency. Are you aware everyone can hear you? You are in serious trouble if you do not stop this instant."

"I am aware of that. That's why I singled out your device. You cannot speak to anyone else but me. I have a very important message for you. You must come alone at 5:30 PM at the location I am sending to you. We will talk later." It then went back to regular radio traffic.

Rosalyn sat there stunned. She clicked on the radio. "This is Officer Trippiani. Did any other units receive a transmission addressed to me? Over." Other officers chimed in saying they didn't. She sat in silence.

"Are you alright Roz?" Dallas asked.

"...No. I'm actually scared." She sat back in her seat and got a chill.

"Well he said come alone, but I'll be nearby when the time comes." Dallas reassured her.

It was time for Rosalyn to meet her mysterious liaison. She pulled up in the cruiser with Dallas and left the car to go into the alleyway. She had her hand on her pistol as she slowly walked down the alley. "Alright, I'm here!" She yelled. No one answered. She yelled again. There still no answer. She turned around and saw an old man standing there. "Sir, I'm JCPD. Can I assist you?"

"Oh, I was looking for the nearby Subway. Do you by chance know where it is?" The old man asked.

"Yes, just around the corner here. Have a good day sir." She said. I guess he's not showing up, she thought. She watched the old man leave the alley when all of a sudden he was jumped!

"Give me all your money, Geezer!" the robber yelled.

Roz sprang into action. "Jersey City Police! Freeze!" She unholstered her pistol and aimed at the assailant. He ran away and she gave pursuit. He ran down another alley which happened to be a dead end. She cornered him and aimed at his head. "Drop the gun!" She yelled. He dropped his gun and she slowly approached him. She reached to secure him with her hand cuffs when he swung at her. He struck her on the chin and sent her down to the ground, dropping her gun. She got back up and looked at him.

"You ain't taking me to jail, Bitch!" He yelled. He tried to punch her again, but she sidestepped and grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back. He then slammed his head into her face and knocked her back. They faced each other and traded blows. Roz dodged as the robber threw punches at her.

Then, the robber slipped up. He over stepped when he threw a punch and she hooked his arm and swept his legs, sending him down to the pavement. She restrained him and cuffed him. "By authority of the State of New Jersey, you are under arrest for attempted robbery. You have the right to..." Just then she was interrupted by applause.

"Well done." It was the old man. "You've proven yourself against one of my best men. Allow me to introduce myself." He then tore his mask off. "My name is Commander Carlos Heider with the International Special Police Force. We've been watching you and we think your skills can benefit us."

"Wait, what did you say?" Rosalyn asked in a confused tone. Commander Heider approached her. She started to back up. He pulled out a card.

"This has an address and a number on it. Call the number and go to this address when we tell you, if you're interested. For now, consider it. Lives may depend on it." He then helped his assistant up. "You made a mistake. We must correct that. We're going to send you back to training immediately." They then vanished without a trace. Roz stood there as she looked at the card.

Then Dallas ran down the alley. "Are you alright Roz?"

"Yeah," she said, wiping her lip of blood. She then pocketed the card in her breast pocket. "Let's leave."

Later that night, after she got home, Roz took off her shirt and took the card out of her pocket. Her tank top was stained with some blood from earlier today. She looked at the card. She thought long about it. Then she took out her cell phone and called the number. The phone rang and on the other side someone picked up. "Hello?"

"This is Rosalyn Trippiani. I'm interested."

"What I aim to do is create rather than destroy. I want my technology to better the lives of everyone around the world, from the highest class neighborhoods to the lowliest slum. Greene Robotics is a humanist company that wants to lead the world towards a Greener future."-Theodore Greene, President/CEO of Greene Robotics Inc.

July 7th, 2023
Unknown Location

"Such a load of bullshit has never been said more eloquently." A man in a black suit crumpled the newspaper and tossed it into a trash bin. A woman appeared from the hallway.

"Mr. MacRee, the President will see you now." She said.

"Thank you, ma'am. Come with me gentlemen. We don't want to keep the most powerful man in the free world waiting do we?" Two other men got up and followed the receptionist down the hall.

"The President is right through here," and she opened the doors to let the men in. They sat at the end opposite of the table where the President was seated.

"Good morning, Tony." The President said.

"Good to see you to Zach." Tony replied. Tony MacRee and President Zachary Anderson were great friends. Tony used to be head of the CIA when Zach first entered the political arena in the Presidential race of 2012, only to lose to the incumbent. However, in 2016 he won with some help from the inside from Tony.

Afterwards, Tony was placed in charge of leading an operation in Iraq to keep it safe under UN regulations. He placed police patrols around the country to make sure curfews were upheld and laws were observed. But this was no regular police force. It was staffed by highly trained men who were masters in hand to hand, armed, and ranged combat.

Eventually, in 2017, Iraq was stable enough that the force was disbanded and removed from the country. Tony MacRee held a meeting with President Anderson to discuss bringing the program back. Trouble was rife in the world and he personally thought it could curb international quarrels. President Anderson agreed and passed it around in the UN. Later that year the project was given the go ahead. Thus, Tony was placed in charge of the newly formed International Special Police Force.

"What do you have for me Tony?" President Anderson asked.

"A new problem. Sergei, please hand me the folder on our subject." Sergei Yusi, a young Russian man, rifled through his briefcase and pulled out a file stamped "Urgent" to Tony. He then slid it to President Anderson. He opened it and opened his eyes wide.

"This is who you think is dealing with terrorists?" He gasped.

"Yes sir, Mr. President. Mr. Humanist himself, Theodore Greene." President Anderson scanned the documents longer and closed the folder. "Are you sure Tony?" he asked.

"Almost positive. But we need more proof."

"And manpower." The other man said. He was dressed in almost militaristic garb. "As you know, when we sent a contingent of officers to Peacekeeping missions in Mongolia, they were lost in a tragic accident which took my three head officers. We are going to need new men to lead my divisions."

"Do you have any candidates, Commander Heider?" President Anderson asked.

Commander Heider adjusted his glasses and smiled. "Of course, I have the three perfect replacements right here." He slid three sealed folders to President Anderson. The President then broke the seals and looked at them. "The first is a spunky young woman in New Jersey named Rosalyn Trippiani. She's reported to be one of the best brawlers on any police force on the Atlantic coast. Second, a man by the name of Darnell Hunt who resides in New York City. Avid supporter of fire arms and knows how to fire, disassemble, reassemble, and clean any gun on God's green Earth."

"And this last man?"

"He's quite a mystery. We only know his country of residence, but the rest is a crap shoot. All we know is that he has never been bested in armed combat. We need him and we will find him." Commander Heider sat down.

"Well I have utmost faith in you all. Find them and watch Mr. Greene. If he's as much of a threat as you say he is..."

"Don't worry, Mr. President," Tony MacRee said. "We will end this before it starts." They all turned to leave before Tony stopped and turned around. "Oh, Zach, one more thing; Are we still on for golf tomorrow?" President Anderson smiled and nodded.

It was an amazing fight. As i stood on the roof, his helicopter landed on the helipad. He was standing in the chopper as it stopped spinning its rotor. We looked at each other and realised this was do or die time.

He lept from the chopper and HOLY SHIT! he tore his coat into pieces with just one flex of his torso. The fight begun.

I repeatedly tried to kick him, but he kept hitting me with knives and his whip. Then I sent barrages of kicks to his midsection. I threw him around a bit too to show him whos boss, but he was a tough fellow. He got back up and knocked me over with his devastating spin attack.

Close to death I rallied to defeat my foe. I again unleashed a hailstorm of kicks. He tried to resist my onslaught, but my reflexes were too fast. With one final kick to the face, he lost his balance and ran into the generator up on the roof. His body coarsed with electricity and he finally fell over and died.

I stood over the body of my foe. Metro City was safe from harm. This was my greatest victory.

This was my Final Fight.

Well, we've all seen them. Take picture, add funny caption, yadda yadda yadda...

I figured I'd share my own personal creations with you! Some are motivational, some are demotivational, and some are... well just look for yourselves.

Motivators
Focus
Spoils
Train Fights
Solutions
Flameshields
Cheering
Perseverance
Teamwork
Piledrivers
Challenges
Physics

Demotivators
Respect
Upstaging
Interruptions
Blowing my stack
Do it!
We do chicken,
Pwned by a chick
Your dad (Featuring theNGpro!)
Your balls
Facetable
Maturity
Get the fuck out
Overkill
Nagging
Heavenly Facepalm

Just for fun!
I know what you're thinking...
Serious business
Mornings
Your actions
Triumvirate of awesome
Belly flop!
Grenade spam
Facebook
Holy Shit!
Translation
Whatisthis?
Interest
Candle Jack
A chick holding wood!
Mons
Explosions
Censorship

NSFW!
Boners
Rule 34 always delivers
Implication

Recent events have encouraged me to create my laws that take place immediately.

1. Thou shalt respect our long-eared, big footed brethren.

2. Thou may haveth some of my carbonated beverages, but may I have mercy on thou soul shouldth I find that said carbonated beverage half-drank on the coffee table.

3. Thou shalt not complain about the weather. You can't do anything about it, and I refuse to do anything. And global warming is just when I forget to brush my teeth.

4. Your video game systems shalnt have ONE SPEC of dust on them.

5. Flatulance is fine, but save it during that big speech.

6. When I command, thou must fellate my e-penis or, if the situation calls for it, my real penis.

7. 1337speak is now an official dialect.

I expect all to obey.