The way I see it, Kyogre is surrounded.
The way I see it, Kyogre is surrounded. What's under the ocean? That's right, more earth.
The way I see it, Kyogre is surrounded. What's under the ocean? That's right, more earth.
Oh wow, another record. How impressive. I mean, who needs to actually enjoy a game when you can just mindlessly sprint through it as quickly as possible, right? Who cares about the intricacies of the plot, the carefully crafted environments, or the subtle nuances of the gameplay? It's all just an obstacle course to be conquered in record time. I'm sure all those years of button-mashing practice will come in handy in the real world, too. Like when you need to quickly hit the "send" button on your job application, or when you're trying to win an argument on one of your speedrun Discords by typing faster than the other person.
And let's not forget about the real accolades you'll receive for your incredible speedrunning skills. I'm sure people will be lining up for miles to watch you run through a game as quickly as possible, ignoring all the artistry and craftsmanship that went into creating it. Move over Mozart and Picasso, there's a new genius in town, and they're real good at hitting buttons fast. And let's not forget the real secret to your amazing speedrunning skills - exploiting glitches. Because why play a game as it was intended when you can just clip through walls, skip entire sections, and completely break the game? It's not like game developers spent countless hours fine-tuning their creations, testing them to make sure they worked as intended. Nope, it's all just a big joke to you, isn't it?
I'm sure you feel really proud of yourself for finding that one obscure glitch that shaves off a few precious seconds from your time. I mean, who cares about playing a game as it was meant to be played when you can just abuse glitches to make yourself look like a hotshot? So congratulations on your amazing speedrun achievement. I'm sure it will go down in history as one of the greatest accomplishments of all time. Or, you know, just be forgotten like the countless other pointless speedruns out there.
So keep hitting those buttons, speedrunner. Keep breaking those games and exploiting those glitches. But just remember - at the end of the day, you're still just a person who's really good at pushing buttons quickly. And in the grand scheme of things, that's about as impressive as being really good at folding laundry. Bravo.
Well, well, well, look who thinks they're real hot shit with their speedy little fingers and their quick reflexes. Let me tell you something, Mr. Speedrunner, you may have shaved a few seconds off your time, but you've also shaved off any sense of enjoyment or appreciation for this masterpiece of a game. You've reduced it to a mindless race to the finish, ignoring all the careful crafting and attention to detail that went into creating the world you're so callously sprinting through. And for what? A few seconds of fame on some obscure online leaderboard?
I pity you, speedrunner. You've missed out on the true beauty and depth of this game, all in the name of your oh-so-precious speed. So, go ahead, pat yourself on the back for your "accomplishment," but know that you've sacrificed something far more valuable in the process: your soul. Oh, I'm sorry, did I hurt your delicate little speedrunning feelings? Did I hit a nerve? Well, good. Maybe it's time for you to take a good, hard look in the mirror and ask yourself why you're so obsessed with beating games as quickly as possible.
Next time, try taking it slow and actually savoring the experience. Or don't. Honestly, I don't really care. Do whatever you want, I'm just some random asshole on the Internet. But know that your precious speedrun will never be as impressive as a genuine appreciation for the game, and don't expect me to be impressed or even remotely interested in your speedy little achievements.
You KNOW that Stone Age pussy would hit fucking DIFFERENT.
First of all, people think of these “cavemen” (not even an accurate term) as savages, when nothing could be further from the truth. They had their own cultures, customs, languages, etc. And they weren’t brainless idiots going “grug ugga ug”, they were much more intelligent than popular culture portrays them as - I mean, these guys are the reason we have a civilisation. Meaning that, as long is you could get over the language barrier (and if you have a time machine to take you back to the Stone Age, then you probably can) you could theoretically develop relationships with them.
Really, they’re not so different from today’s humans, they just look a little different and aren’t as educated. But what they may lack in smarts (but, I repeat, NOT in culture), they make up for in physical ability. To hunt wild beasts, they need to be strong, and only the strongest survive, but not just the strongest, the smartest and fastest get favoured by evolution as well. And even the Stone Age women have to be tough - it’s hard living in primitive conditions. So they’d be pretty fit.
What’s more, there’s none of the troubles of modern life - they don’t worry about rent, or the internet, or anything. They’re pretty much carefree.
And reproduction is pretty high up on a Neolithic human’s priorities, you need to make sure the tribe survives after all, so you bet that they’d be dtf. You might be fucking your distant ancestor, but that just makes it wilder, and it doesn’t count as inbreeding if there’s more than 3 generations of separation.
Now, you may be asking “what about diseases? Surely fucking an early human would be unhygienic?” Well once again, you’re biased by the mainstream media into thinking they were unwashed animals. They knew how to take care of their fucking health and hygiene.
And you know how I said that they were primitive? Well, they’re intelligent enough to adapt, so you could teach your New Stone Age family to live in the future, while still maintaining their culture which made them unique from other people. Hence why a Stone Age chick would be the greatest and craziest fuck of your life. God, I wish I had a Stone Age gf.
No Rosa. I'm not a child. I am a real person that played one chess game with you, which you won. Instead of going about your life, you decided to message me, because apparently you don't get satisfaction from winning a game, you get satisfaction from trying to make people feel bad. It doesn't work. I don't understand the mentality you must have to play a short game online with someone you've never met, and then message them to try to rub it in. It's a little pathetic to be honest. I even tried to reason with you and you just keep going. I don't care about you rosa, okay? So just keep playing your chess games. Think twice next time before you message someone. Maybe ask yourself why you feel the need to do that before you do it? Maybe ask yourself if you are affecting the world in a positive or negative way?
What the fuck did you just fucking say about the missile you little bitch? I'll have you know the missile knows where it is at all times, and the missile has been involved in obtaining numerous differences, or deviations, and has over 300 confirmed corrective commands. The missile is trained in driving the missile from a position where it is, and is the top of arriving at a position where it wasn't. You are nothing to the missile but just another position. The missile will arrive at your position with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit about the missile over the internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak the GEA is correcting any variation considered to be a significant factor, and it knows where it was, so you better prepare for the storm, maggot, the storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. The missile can be anywhere, anytime, and the missile can kill you in over 700 ways, and that's just by following the missile guidance computer scenario. Not only is the missile extensively trained in being sure where it isn't, within reason, but the missile also has access to the position it knows it was, and the missile will subtract where it should be from where it wasn't, or vice-versa, to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could've known what unholy retribution your little clever comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would've held your fucking tongue, but you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price you goddamn idiot. The missile will shit the deviation, and it's variation, which is called error, all over you, and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo.
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Longer version of π
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