I can give my Butterfly Knife Tiger Tooth ft for all of your csgo graffities and cases (Im collecting them) so if it's ok for you send me trade offer please. Link in my bio

I trade my pudge arcana for any 10 Dota2 loading screens - if you want send me trade offer, I will accept

Antigamer phishing dota 2 chat, flame all time, don't respect player, dota 2 hack commands gold speed vision and toxic by comunity REPORT NOW PLSAntigamer phishing dota 2 chat, flame all time, don't respect player, dota 2 hack commands gold speed vision and toxic by comunity REPORT NOW PLS

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Part 1: For the last five years or so Michael has been really into board games. It started innocently enough, beginning from simple games like scrabble and monopoly, then diversifying into more hardcore games like power grid and castles of burgundy. We played on the regular but he always dropped hints that the games he played "weren't realistic enough". He seemed to have a pressing desire to fully immerse himself, and us, into the games. Well, a few days ago I was at his house playing games and took an opportunity when he went to the restroom to look into his closet for a board game that I hadn't played. I then found a peculiar box, made of paper mache with ornaments drawn from crayons. On top of the box it said in different colored letters "Бесплодие человека", or, as I later translated, “The Futility of Man”. I brought it out and opened it up.

Part 2: Inside were many drawings and graphs. Weird illustrations which didn't make any sense to my eyes. Underneath them, however, lied a small box full of figurines. They were quite well detailed, but upon closer observation I realized that they resembled a few people I knew who for different reasons were not in my life anymore. Goko. A few friends I met from Fresno. His mother and brother. I panicked and shut the box, and placed it back into the closet. I managed to play it cool and leave his house unharmed. Before we left, he gave me a slap on the back, saying, “See you soon my little friend…” It stung more than it should have… Looking back there were several indications that something was going on. Each of these acquaintances who I had talked to seemed to become less and less of themselves up to the last time I saw them.

Part 3: They would move more rigidly. Respond less to any indirect question or environmental stimulus. I now think that this is a part of some “figureization process”.I tried calling a few of them, whose numbers I still had. All disconnected. I went to his house when he was at work. Empty. I tried asking friends if they had seen any of them. Nothing. I am worried. My arm has been stiff for the past few days and God knows I have not been physically active. The other day I failed a test and had no emotional response to it. I feel cold. I feel… rigid...

Pt 2. As time moved on, the character playing Aram seemed to change in appearance. His skin started to turn more brown with every passing day. His figure started to turn more round with every month. Within the year, Aram's voice had become completely monotone. From the perspective of Michael, it was easy to dismiss the change, but still being Aram, it was clear what was going on. Michael was starting to confuse his sexual feelings towards potatoes with Aram. At the end of the Life of Michael, I felt like I was trapped, like I couldn't get out of the VR set. And that's because I couldn't. Michael hadn't just learned how to develop people in VR. Michael learned to trap people in VR. Michael then approached me and in soft words before I merged into potato-form, whispered, "sleep tight my little babooshka."

Over some drinks a few months ago, Michael convinced me to buy an Oculus set because it was on sale. What he didn't tell me was how he had spent the past 20 years learning to develop in Oculus. When I turned on my rift for the first time, I was sent into a movie titled "The Life of Michael". Michael essentially made me live through his eyes. I understood every intricacy of Michael and why he is Michael. I felt more like Michael than I felt like Aram. Halfway through the journey, I come across the time of the life where Michael meets Aram. This is where things started to get strange.

Ever since he started lifting all he's been talking about are his gains. Gains this, gains that, gains are on his mind 24/7. It's gotten to the point where he eats rotisserie chicken in between sets because he thinks his muscles get smaller if he does nothing. When I confronted his family about it, they told me they knew of the problem and they showed me to his bedroom, which was essentially one big rotisserie oven. Michael throws live chickens into his bedroom before leaving to his workouts so he has chickens ready for consumption when he gets home. His family told me I'd have to wait for him in his room if I wanted to talk to him about his problem. As I entered the oven-baked room , the door locked behind me. I knocked and screamed, but my attempts for help were left unanswered. The one thing Michael's family neglected to tell me - Michael had moved beyond his craving for rotisserie chicken and was looking for something new.

I used to think something was off about Michael. It turns out I was right. When I flipped through the picturebook of his childhood that he sent to me as a part of my birthday present, I noticed a potato in the background of each picture. When I closed the book, the book vanished and all I was left with was the same potato in the picturebook. Then I felt a flash of light, and I heard Michael giggling and running down the stairs. 2 months later Michael went missing. 3 months later, Potatoes starting raining from the sky. 12 months later, Michaels started raining down from everywhere.

This man has an insatiable need to get into the Overwatch beta. I thought nothing of it at first, but his actions, well, they were unsavory. First he changed his Myspace background to an Overwatch picture. Normal, at least relatively, I thought. Then he sent me a Snapchat of himself getting an Overwatch tattoo. At least he wasn't hurting anyone but himself. Then things started to get strange. He sent me a one-second snap of what seemed to be the overwatch symbol painted on the ground in blood. I'll be honest, I barely got a good look at it but I know what I saw. Then I read in the paper that a mysterious symbol was drawn IN FIRE on a ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ playground. I called the newspaper in order to get more information and wouldnt you ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ know it, it was the overwatch symbol. I called the ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ cops on him AND GUESS WHAT? DEAD IN THE ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ PAPERS.♥♥♥♥ i hear it in the background, overwatch music. I need to hide, this ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ psycho is coming for me. FUJKC. god save me

added to talk about the price please accept me

When I used his netflix account all I could find were suggestions for failed documentaries of successful documentarians. He told me that irony is the only source of nutrition for him in a world filled with napkins and ketchup. A few days later I visited him again and found that he deleted his netflix account. When I asked him about it he said that he ate everything on his place so he was allowed to eat dessert. He jumped on his pimped out tricycle and rode to a breakfast place 300 miles away for dessert. When I went home and logged into my account the only movie I could find anywhere on Netflix was coneheads.

He called me at home and told me it was an emergency. He said there was a rainbow outside and that it was right over my house. As I walked out of my front door, he poured a bucket of skittles on top of me, on top of my roof, while yelling "taste the rainbow".

I've been observing him over the past seven months without him knowing. He sneaks out in the wee hours and paints all of the grass in his neighborhood red. He then spends 20-40 minutes in cold sweats having an existential crisis in his room and proceeds to go back and paint the grass green again.

i R8 -13/3 did not 1v1 buzzkillingtron on strem

i R8 8/8 got facestabbed boi meh on strem

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The Last Stand

When Monsanto came out with their latest strain of virulent resistant potato, everything changed. You see, this new Monsanto strain would guarantee that any Potato would become acne free. For Michael, this was a big deal since his proactive peeler wouldn't get the job done. Michael needed to find a test subject before he would attempt to cross the monsanto DNA into his own. Michael chose his little brother Goko. Goko was always the biggest one in the family. When Michael gave birth to Goko in 86' to a travestite hooker, we knew he was going to go places (people with ♥♥♥♥♥♥ starts make for the best, best-selling biographies). Goko did so well that he got his Ph.D in agriculture (biology for him), by the time Michael was able to finish his sophomore year in high school. Goko knew that Michael was trying to get rid of his Acne, and he wanted to help-but he didn't want to sacrifice his own perfect skin for it as well. So he didn't. Michael died of Acne in 95'.

Potato 3:17 (a.k.a The Growth of Evil)

And as the darkness grew and his hope faded, his evil raged. Greed, fury, gluttony, all of the horrible faults of humanity only seemed to consume the darkness, as if it was fueled by it. The darkness consumed him and he consumed the darkness. He became what AiK (long live the king) feared the most - evil incarnate. Unfortunately for mankind, Michael had his motives and he knew the world would not accomodate them. He began life, mimicing a prepubescent child. He was able to copy all signature characteristics, including a deep voice and the youth's libido. What he could not impersonate was the growth spurt which most childreun undergo, making him resemble a demonic midget. He went to Lowell High school and fraternized with the fellow students (especially the asians) in order to blend in. He coalesced with native Armenian groups in order to gain their trust. He played all of his cards right, gained their trust, and was finally ready to strike.

Potato 3:16 (a.k.a The Big Beast)

And he grew. Thy littlest of potatoes did not die within the confines of stomach of Haig. Just like Jonas, Michael was able to survive in the stomach of a beast in order to fulfill his spiritual development. (17) Aram, son of Jacob, son of H4nn1, experimented endlessly to figure out why Haig had died. In his drunken fervor, he activated the beta coagulates in Haig’s stomach glands. Aram thought he had not made any progress so he decided to dump Haig back into the soil from which he came. Little did he know that the beta coagulates led to a colon cleanse. And with this Michael escaped. Michael however was trapped underneath above the soil and below Haig’s buttox. Michael spent 13 years underneath Haig’s buttox, trapped in the darkness.

(contd.) But what were the implications of Michael's potatism, you might ask. Experts on the topic of Michology have spent years debating the specifics, but most agree that the most significant effect of the transformation was the utter destruction of the young potateboy's moral compass. We will get back to this later. What the previous story did not explain was what happened to the rest of the Sadakian-Der Abrahamian-Melkumian coalition. To begin with, Uncle Krikor had a strange quirk - he never tasted his award-winning potato salad. That saved him from the damaging effects of the poisonous potatos. Aram was also lucky, but his paranoia ended up being hes undoing. You see, Aram had a rare Beta-Galactose Streptoglucagon mutation in the G30 section of his 18th chromosome. This rendered him immune to acute Michaelolopathic Tuber Poisoning, however Aram was not aware of his mutation. Upon observing Haig’s apparent death he entered a crazed research-fueled state.

When Michael was born, he was extremely small. I remember how I would laugh with my brothers and sisters (his aunts and uncles) about how if we threw him out the window into the backyard, we wouldn't be able to find him. Well, uncle Haig wasn't too fond of Michael (Haig had severe attention issues since his pet Rabbit didn't give him much love as a child) so he manaically decided to do just that. The next sabbath haig threw Michael out. Being on a farm, nobody could find him. There were only 3 other farms nearby and they hadn't seen him. 70 days later, the family was enjoying Uncle Krikor's famous potato salad. 3 days later, uncle Haig died. See, Michael underwent a genetic mutation turing the Tuber initiation phase of devlopment that allowed him to store specialized poison. This poison was stored interally in him, so when Haig ate that potato salad, he ingested that poison. Then he became trapped in Haig's intestinal lining. This is the story of Michael. He was potato.

He rides to work on a tricycle with two wheels.

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