If I cause a wipe by charging a pack that everyone and their dog knows needs to be los-pulled unless you want to fight the whole room and someone says "gg noob tank" followed by "lmao git gud loser" then leaves, that doesn't feel nice.
But when you break it down, what this person is saying is that they're frustrated with me, that I'm too inexperienced to meet their standards and that they expect me to do better. And they're saying it in gamer lingo which means that despite my inadequacy for the situation at hand, we remain colleagues in this shared activity of playing WoW, they might be flipping me off while leaving me in a cloud of dust on this racetrack, but in a way they still acknowledge me as a fellow racer.
On the other hand if what they say before they leave is "I'm sorry, this isn't working out for me", that sounds like "I'm so disgusted with this situation that has me working with this... person that I don't want to even comment on it", it sounds like "Margaret, it appears that there is a homeless person sleeping in our opera booth, no Carmen for us tonight, I'm afraid". It sounds like I'm not a living human being who caused the problem, but some manifestation of the reality itself being disappointing. I'm not a noob tank, I'm a vessel of pure idiocy that unfortunately can be found in the game. I have no agency in this paradigm, there is nothing worth addressing because what's intolerable about me penetrates and permeates my very existence. It's not me you address, but someone with the power to insulate you from the fact that I exist. Like I said, it feels awful.
I will git gud, I will spend as long as it takes gitting gud and by that time I will be one of the few tanks who endured that ungrateful task and when people ask me to tank heroics for them, I will remember who simply called me a noob and who subjected me to this dehumanizing existential horror.
charge into wrong room 在錯誤的房間中衝鋒 do not line of sight 不進行視線拉怪 all monster become friend 所有怪物變成朋友 room now angry 房間現在很生氣
group fall down 團隊倒下 dog also know this pull 狗也知道這個拉怪 but you not know 但你不知道
one voice say gg noob tank 一個聲音說 gg 新手坦克 another say git gud loser 另一個說 變強吧失敗者 they leave in dust 他們在灰塵中離開 like fast horse on road 像路上的快馬
this word not gentle 這些話不溫柔 but meaning still clear 但意思仍然清楚 they say you are small 他們說你很弱小 you must become big 你必須變得強大
they angry but still same game 他們生氣但仍在同一個遊戲 you both run same race 你們在同一場比賽中奔跑 they kick you while leaving 他們離開時踢你 but still see you 他們仍然看見你
other voice more quiet 另一個聲音更安靜 say sorry not working 說抱歉這行不通 this word soft 這句話很柔軟 but heart very cold 但心非常冷
it not speak to you 它不是對你說話 it speak about world 它在談論世界 like rich person in opera 像歌劇中的富人 see strange thing in chair 在座位上看到奇怪的東西 and leave without name 然後不說名字地離開
you not tank 你不是坦克 you become problem itself 你變成問題本身 walking mistake 行走的錯誤 living disappointment 活著的失望
no agency no control 沒有能動性沒有控制 your existence leak everywhere 你的存在滲透到各處 like bad water 像壞掉的水
this feeling very heavy 這種感覺非常沉重 worse than loud insult 比大聲的辱罵更糟 silent rejection cuts deep 沉默的拒絕傷得更深
but path still forward 但道路仍然向前 you will git gud 你將會變強 take long time 需要很長時間 but time not afraid of you 但時間不害怕你
one day you become strong tank 有一天你成為強大的坦克 few survive this road 很少人能走這條路 you remember all faces 你記住所有面孔
who call you noob 誰叫你新手 and who erase your existence 誰抹去了你的存在
when they ask for help 當他們尋求幫助時 you will decide 你將決定
By u/AAAAAPAIN, its satire of a wallstreetbets post about someone going all in into gourd futures but changed into Xiranite production from Endfield.
I have lost everything, and I'm not sure how to continue. This update I invested 75000 xiranite (3months of xiranite and my entire life savings) into xiranite gourd futures, hoping to capitalize on this lucrative emerging event. After watching a video about Tang Tang and her monopoly on soup, I decided I'd try to do something similar with a vegetable. I did some research and found out many agricultural forecasters expected this year's xiranite yield would be far smaller than the past, due to deteriorating soil conditions in central WuLing and a warmer-than-average spring. Unfortunately, the blight caused a massive drop-off in demand due to fewer families decorating their tables and prices plummeted. I had invested early enough that I thought I would still be fine, but then on Monday morning, a new mail in my inbox caused my stomach to turn into a pretzel. The massive gourd shipment from Valley IV, scheduled for Tomorrow, had arrived. I was planning on selling off my futures right before this, but this ruined everything. To top it off, the gourds in this shipment were absolutely gargantuan, some topping 4 pounds each, causing the price-per-pound to drop like an anchor into the range of 1 point per pound. I am ruined.
I don't give a fuck.
Arrowhead saved me when I was in a dark place. They were my childhood and my adulthood. I owe Arrowhead my life and honestly? So do you probably, you ungrateful piece of shit. So that's why I'll die fighting for them, because evil little cunts want to fuck with them despite the good they've done, despite all the people they've saved, despite all the lives they've changed for the better.
I am Helldiver and you are fascist, so taste my liberator bitch.
By u/JonBlackfyreTruther, its a shitpost for Project Zomboid on someone who refuses to put their points into burglar.
Get home from work. Make dinner, talk to my wife, put my daughter to bed. It's now 9 pm. What should I do with the exactly 2 hours of free time I have left in the day?
Play Project Zomboid of course.
Open up character creator, default apocalypse settings of course. Just want to shoot some zombies, and run them over on the highway. You know, fun stuff. Don't take burglar; I can learn to hotwire for free.
Burglar is wasted points.
Spawn in and try and find a car so I can get to the military surplus store. Hmm not a lot of keys for these cars. Still stuck in Rosewood.
Burglar is wasted points.
Okay well I'll just learn to hotwire real quick. Find a mechanics book but not an electrical book.
Burglar is wasted points.
Start disassembling watches. Check my phone once I learn how to hotwire. It's 2 am, I needed to be in bed 2 hours ago but I spent all my free time learning how to hotwire instead of playing the game.
Burglar is wasted points.
Start shaking and sobbing as I crawl into bed next to my wife. A horrible epiphany crests and roars through my mind like a great ocean wave.
"Honey, what's wrong? Were you playing that zombie game? Are you crying cause you picked Burglar?
Burglar is wasted points," She whispers.
I look deep into her dark brown eyes filled with love and concern.
"No dear," I sob
"I'm crying cause I didn't pick burglar."
She recoiled as if I struck her.
I didn't know what I saw in her eyes that night as she started packing her bags and waking our daughter. I didn't know what it meant until the divorce papers arrived a week later.
What I saw was love dying.
Burglar is wasted points.
Stop talking about individual penis length as if it's the same every time.
I took many dick pics to (consensually) send to my (now ex) girlfriend when I was still with her. One thing I noticed in the different pics was that the size and shape of my erect penis was variable. This makes sense because erections are caused by blood flow, and the tissue is highly elastic. Additionally, arousal levels are different every time. Hydration levels are different. Anxiety is different. Engorgement is different. People who appear to be lying about penis length may actually be sincerely estimating based on "peak performance" rather than the average. This is why I like edging and keeping myself aroused for long periods of time while trying not to cum too often, because this makes my cock look nice and thick.
No, I will not be posting pictures. I thought of posting my dick pics on a suitable subreddit but decided against it because most people follow my account for (admittedly often horny) shitposts and natural history facts. Even with spoilers, I don't want to accidentally cyberflash anyone. This is why I use Google Drive to store my personal porn stash instead of my phone's offline gallery, as I may accidentally send a picture of anthro Maud Pie's deliciously phat ass to a conservative fossil collector friend in America while trying to negotiate a deal for a *Nanotyrannus* tooth, or worse, accidentally sending a dick pic or Melony's milky MILF tits to a fellow member of my local rockhounding club. I don't even play Pokemon (the creature designs are too cartoony), I just like thicc, busty MILFs.
I rest my case.
Wow. Just wow. I sat here expecting at least the smallest crumb of humor and instead you delivered whatever that was supposed to be. Not a laugh, not a smile, not even that polite nose exhale people do when something is mildly amusing. My face remained completely motionless the entire time like I had just read the nutritional label on a cereal box. I actually paused for a second because I thought maybe the joke had not loaded yet, but no. That was the whole thing. I refuse to believe a real human being looked at that and thought “yes, this is ready for public consumption.” I tried to give it a chance. I really did. I reread it three times thinking maybe there was some hidden comedic genius that my brain had simply missed the first time. Nothing. The more I looked at it the worse it became. At this point I am convinced the joke was not written but assembled by randomly pulling words out of a hat. Somewhere out there a clown just lost their job because you single handedly lowered the global standard for humor. You know when people say something is painfully unfunny as a figure of speech. This is not that. This is a scientific phenomenon. If researchers studied the effects of that joke they would probably discover a new emotion that sits somewhere between confusion and secondhand embarrassment. I felt my brain actively trying to escape my skull just to avoid processing it. That level of disappointment should honestly be documented for future generations. I want you to understand the effort I put into trying to find the joke funny. I leaned back in my chair. I squinted slightly like maybe the angle of my eyes would reveal something clever. I even looked away and came back to it later just in case my mood was the problem. Still nothing. My reaction remained the same blank expression someone has when they accidentally open the wrong tab on their browser. If humor were a sport this would be the equivalent of showing up to the Olympics and immediately tripping over your own shoelaces before the event even begins. Just seeing this ruined my entire life.
