Hunop the Drater was always living in other people's shadows. Always following the trends. One day he said to himself, "I am Hunop. I come from a long line of Draters. I don't have to be a follower. I can be a leader!" So Hunop set out into the new, electronic world some call the internet which was developed by Galkas. He proclaimed to the world his likes and dislikes, hoping that he would be the first and that all would follow. But, like all Draters, he just couldn't get it right. Soon he noticed, as he hopped from trend to trend, from opinion to opinion, that no one was following him. He hopped, like all Draters hop, onto the final random lillypad trend; there no one could see him for miles. Holding a small blunt phallic shaped dagger to his face which he whittled out of iron ore, Hunop said to himself,

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RIP Shiloh - I'll never forget ya

That's really cutting edge whisp

its a story thread, please stick to the thread and continue the story

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RIP Shiloh - I'll never forget ya

"I will fill this blunt piece of metal with ink and call it a pen." and with that, ponuh the retard set out in search of his first in a long series of adventures which he would chronicle with the only pen in the world. Such adventures he would have in the years to come. Through high and low, heat and cold, together with enemies, with friends, and with buttfuckers, all to be chronicled by the only pen on the planet. Heroes are born and legends rise in the chronicle of Ponuh the Retard, the first adventure of which begins on a dark and stormy night, deep in canada, where

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Some stories can't be told with words, some legends are meant to die

If it was supposed to end on post 1 you should have just PMd him with subject line reading: Retard.

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Some stories can't be told with words, some legends are meant to die

"...Hunop, blinded by an idea in his head that was so cutting edge and vast that only he could understand its true meaning, lol'd. he lol'd so wildly, so carefree, that it shook little bird eggs off the trees outside. he lol'd for so long and so hard that it reminded him of other long and hard things, and the lol turned into a whimper as he reminisced of a time he spent in the FFXI jail. the crimson red armor of the one and only love of his life caused him to knife his own wrist to draw crimson blood. it was here, amidst the whimpers and lols and blood that he remembered what it means to be a pure Drater. he knew what had to be done about the bird eggs..."

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RIP Shiloh - I'll never forget ya