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> Dead Rising 2: The Official Topic AND Case 0
Massacre
post Sep 30 2010, 06:20 PM
Post #21


Warlord of the Wastes.
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Stoic left, he's mad at me. sad.gif


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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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PabloHoneyOle
post Sep 30 2010, 06:56 PM
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QUOTE (Massacre @ Sep 30 2010, 01:51 PM) *
There's co-op? Stoic, are you getting Undead Nightmare? If that has zombies in multiplayer, I'm also going to get this, and we will have undead multiplayer adventures together. For real, this time.

That's a day 1 pickup for me. My October will be Zombiriffic.
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Massacre
post Sep 30 2010, 07:15 PM
Post #23


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Fallout, Fable, Undead Nightmare, and the premiere of The Walking Dead on AMC. October will be the best month ever.


--------------------
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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bOnEs
post Sep 30 2010, 09:02 PM
Post #24


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19 days to post-nuclear warfare!! biggrin.gif... starting to get really excited...

at least the zombies are a different breed in both games... slow lumbering ones in DR2 and fast ones in RDR:UN...


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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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DuPz0r
post Oct 1 2010, 01:58 PM
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I boought this last week. Wish i had the net so i could try out the online co-op.

Anyne find the twin-samuri-sisters hard? i can't defeat them with my current weapons, and i have like barely any time to defeat them because i went and fort some mailman for zombrex first...


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bOnEs
post Oct 1 2010, 03:57 PM
Post #26


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dude, i can't defeat any of the psychopaths... i killed ted, only to be mauled by his tiger... i was chasing around some fat chef who i couldn't kill... i also ran into some psycho in a bathroom when i was trying to desperately save my game... i died of course and lost almost an hours worth of work... FUCK!!

i couldn't defeat that TIR biker you run into outside... dude, i just can't defeat anyone not a zombie... this game really forces you to grind out some experience points by killing zombies and trekking through the story... i think they are expecting you to do that, then save the psychos for your 2nd run... i don't have time for another run so, i am officially passing on the psychos...

things like that are game breakers for me... while it's a fun game to play, certain elements are really hurting my experience... and it's reasons like that, that make me feel good that i am renting these games and not wasting $60 on them... if i didn't find a zombrex from platforming some light fixtures i would of never saved my daughter... this game really REALLY wants you to restart and play again, i see the signs for every hour that passes... and i don't want to...

i've also put in about 10 hours of playing and i've only unlocked 3 trophies... and after looking at the list, i doubt i'll unlock much more before i return this as i don't time to kill 10,000 zombies, wear every article of clothing, use every environment weapon, burn a gazillion zombies, kill a thousand with my bare hands, etc...

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Oct 1 2010, 04:04 PM


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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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PabloHoneyOle
post Oct 1 2010, 05:34 PM
Post #27


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Dead Rising is a multiplaythrough game.

It's definitely not a rental game.
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bOnEs
post Oct 1 2010, 05:38 PM
Post #28


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yea it is... especially when you don't see yourself playing this past sunday anyways... once i take it back, i am sure i won't be picking this up again... it's fun but, it's starting wear a little thin for me...


--------------------



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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Jáger
post Oct 1 2010, 07:08 PM
Post #29


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I'm thinking about trading it in. I was playing it earlier, completed a fuck load of missions then got corned by a psycho and lost everything. I even threw my controller across the room I was so pissed. Fuck it, man, can't be arsed going through all that again.


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bOnEs
post Oct 1 2010, 07:17 PM
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what kind of psycho? it might of been one of the assholes i ran into...


--------------------



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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PabloHoneyOle
post Oct 1 2010, 07:34 PM
Post #31


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I think for every reason you hate this game, I love it.

I didn't deal with any Psychos my first few playthroughs of the first game. You gotta build up your character. I wouldn't even focus on completing missions as much as I focused on staying alive and saving as often as I can.

If you die, sometimes it's almost better to start the game over and keep the level progression. Unless you're taking advantage of those multiple save slots.
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Jáger
post Oct 1 2010, 07:41 PM
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Some shitty chef. I was low on health as it was, so I should've just avoided everything and saved but, well, I love killing zombies and accidentally ran into this guy. Like I said, time to trade in.


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bOnEs
post Oct 1 2010, 08:12 PM
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QUOTE (Jaeger @ Oct 1 2010, 03:41 PM) *
Some shitty chef. I was low on health as it was, so I should've just avoided everything and saved but, well, I love killing zombies and accidentally ran into this guy. Like I said, time to trade in.

i spotted a bit of strategy with that guy before he killed me off... two things:
1) bring like 2 or three health items
2) every time you hit him, he runs to one of the stashed plates to refill his health so, chase to these spots and hit him before he fills his health back up...

lol, the chef is the only psycho that i actually found a pattern to before i died... so, i would feel confident in going after him again with the proper items... however, like stoic said, maybe we should be saving these guys for the 2nd play, when we have a better arsenal of weapons and more health at our disposal... but it's like WTF man, why can't i just fight them now? why do i have to die by randomly running into them, only to learn to avoid that room until your next play, or until your in your later levels??

they should be labeled on the map so you can avoid them instead of randomly running into them and dying, and losing all your progress because you saw a bathroom icon and went in there to save, only to find out a psycho was waiting to kill you and your progress mad.gif...

This post has been edited by bOnEs: Oct 1 2010, 08:15 PM


--------------------



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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DuPz0r
post Oct 4 2010, 03:43 PM
Post #34


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I found a pattern in the pyscho in the wedding chapel. If you run out til he follows, we will try to hit you and then return. When you go back he wil be holding the bride to be in the air by her neck. Just get a couple of free hits then run away and repeat.

I beat those twin sisters yesterday. I just railed the blonde one with a heavy machine gun with 200 bullets and then melee'd her with my two spiked bats! Man she took a beating.


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bOnEs
post Oct 4 2010, 04:42 PM
Post #35


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i took this back yesterday... but saturday night, me and a friend took turns bashing the shit out of some zombies and to be honest, it made the game more fun to play... i learned some new strategies and found some new cool weapons like the pitchfork laugh.gif... you have to use that one to know how fucking awesome it is...

i said i would never rent this game again but to be honest, i might give it another shot when i am standing there looking for something to rent and i see it... i got frustrated at times early on but, i think i started to get the hang of it a bit on saturday before i went to work, and that night when me and a buddy bashed some zombie heads around...

i reached level 8 but, i am pretty sure i might be nearing a restart... i am on the casino vault mission where you have to stop the 3 drills and the last one is in the yukatan (or something like that) casino, where ted and his tiger are... i am not sure if i can handle that fight on my current level right now... i need more health and better crafted weapons...

i like my scarface looking character though laugh.gif...


--------------------



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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PabloHoneyOle
post Oct 4 2010, 06:41 PM
Post #36


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I haven't gotten the game yet, but I'm going to be getting it soon.

Before I even play the game, I am at a Level 5 - thanks to Case Zero. As you level up, the game gets easier and easier. It's a testament to dedication.
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bOnEs
post Oct 4 2010, 07:30 PM
Post #37


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isn't there 50 levels?! holy crap, that's like 4 or 5 playthroughs to get a character that high in levels... it's taken forever to reach 8...


--------------------



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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DuPz0r
post Oct 5 2010, 12:53 PM
Post #38


Still Standing
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 1,433
Joined: 3-August 04
From: London, England
Member No.: 439
PSN Name: BushkaUK



I'm level 16 now and i have like 12 hours until the military arive... Not sure if that means the game will end by then though...

I saved two guys last night with loads of cash, and now i have 140k to spend on zombrex if i cant find any.


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bOnEs
post Oct 5 2010, 01:55 PM
Post #39


doesn't play well with others...
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Group: Staff
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!!



i found two just lying around in paradise falls city... one in the americana casino (start at 2nd floor of the bar & grill, then platform across the lights above the casino floor)... and the second one was in the slot ranch casino, on top of some crates behind the stage...

it was cool to find these on the side because, i would of failed the main mission if it weren't for finding these because, outside of the first one you get through the story, i haven't found any other ones except by sheer chance...


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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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DuPz0r
post Oct 6 2010, 10:54 AM
Post #40


Still Standing
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Group: Gold Member
Posts: 1,433
Joined: 3-August 04
From: London, England
Member No.: 439
PSN Name: BushkaUK



I also found the zombrex ontop of the crates backstage of the casino. That's the only one i've found by chance so far.


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