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> General New Vegas Topic, pre-game/post-game discussion...
Massacre
post Oct 20 2010, 05:36 AM
Post #401


Warlord of the Wastes.
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Posts: 3,141
Joined: 14-October 04
From: Leichenstadt, State of Massacre, in the Warlord Empire
Member No.: 2,470
XBL Gamertag: WarlordMassacre
PSN Name: Warlord_Massacre



I imagine the Lucky 38 platinum chip would do a fair amount of damage if placed in a sock and used as a weapon...

*Tries it*

Yep, worked perfectly.


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QUOTE (Darth Sexy @ Sep 12 2009, 03:43 AM) *
Massacre, you make me look like a rational, moral, kind person.
QUOTE (Marney1 @ Oct 26 2009, 01:22 PM) *
Massacre - What you've just posted is sick and disturbing...
QUOTE (ViceMan @ Jan 17 2010, 04:22 PM) *
When Massacre is around, everything is violated... Whether it likes it or not.
QUOTE (ViceMan @ Mar 6 2011, 09:40 AM) *
Whenever I think of "human resources" Massacre immediately springs to mind.


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Marney1
post Oct 20 2010, 10:22 AM
Post #402


Godfather
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Member No.: 48,547



QUOTE (Massacre @ Oct 20 2010, 06:36 AM) *
I imagine the Lucky 38 platinum chip would do a fair amount of damage if placed in a sock and used as a weapon...

*Tries it*

Yep, worked perfectly.

You've got a black eye now haven't you? Go on, admit it!
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bOnEs
post Oct 20 2010, 03:07 PM
Post #403


doesn't play well with others...
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Posts: 2,316
Joined: 28-March 08
From: michigan...
Member No.: 38,893
XBL Gamertag: your mother...
PSN Name: artistadam
Xfire Identity: i said your mother!!



dude, i love the cards that came in the CE... they look old and worn out... plus, they're all from about a half a dozen different casinos... it looks really sweet... and DAMN!! i am going to read the graphic novel someday soon... looks awesome... loving the case too, i got it on display already laugh.gif...


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QUOTE (Massacre @ Mar 15 2011, 01:24 AM) *
Oh, good one. The "you're on the internet so you must have no life" insult isn't moronic or unoriginal at all. You must, without a doubt, be a very important member of society, not at all a waste of the already barely valuable gift of life.

As is the case for everyone who takes issue with people who make them sad on the internet, you are one of two kinds of people:

You are exactly what you claim I am, and that is a lonely, pathetic basement dweller. You life is spent eating eight pounds of junk food per day, masturbating to anything you find online that's even remotely feminine, and wishing you had good looks and social skills. You continue to live with your mother until she dies of a combination of lung cancer and liver failure brought on by the chain-smoking and heavy drinking she used to cope with what a failure you are. Your mother mercifully dead and free of the living embodiment of failure she regretfully thrust from her loins, the bills start to pile up and you, unemployed and unable to pay these bills (of course), lose the house and everything in it. Somehow even more of a failure than you already were, you wander from place to place eating out of dumpsters and sleeping in your own filth until you finally die of AIDS, which you contracted from a diseased whore you scrounged up enough money to pay for, so you could finally lose your virginity while at the same time pretending that your mother was back in your life.

Or:

You are the type who was an athlete in high school, who was genetically doomed to be an idiot but managed to finish school and even get a college scholarship because you were so good at a worthless children's game. You went off to college with a suitcase full of polo shirts and condoms, the polo shirts, because you're a douche, and the condoms to prevent you from impregnating the dim-witted young college girls whom you could never touch without the aid of Rohypnol, a drug you refer to as "roofies" because you can neither spell or pronounce Rohypnol. You scrape by with borderline D's for the next four years, and leave the campus to go out into the real world where your realize you're not intelligent or talented enough to do anything of value with your life. Misery and minimum wage ensues for thirty years, then you blow your brains out, and your corpse, alone and forgotten, is not discovered until the smell of rotting flesh seeps under your door and your bodily fluids finally soak through the floor of your studio apartment and into the room below you. Your body is cremated, the ashes scraped into a garbage bin because there was no one in your life who valued you enough to pay for a casket, funeral, or burial plot.

You're undoubtedly one of the two, otherwise you would have better things to do than complain about the theme of a forum that doesn't care about anything you have to say.
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