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Whining about the fact I can't write anything worthwhile.
Evil is evil. Lesser, greater, middling, makes no difference. The degree is arbitrary. The definition’s blurred. If I am to choose between one evil and another, I rather not choose at all. – Geralt of Rivia [Facebook] | [DeviantART] | [FictionPress.com] | [FanFiction.net] | [My Tumblr.] I come and go, don't question me. Also I'm an weeaboo/otaku, fite me m8 1v1 irl.
If you find anything offensive of what I say. Then it's not my fault that you took it serious.
Yes I may not have done all the chores today but did it occur to you that since friday my back as been in pure agony? I don't say as you probably think I'm attention seeking (I know you do) but I have not slept properly and I was up 5 times in the night due to the pain. Ask my sister who heard me get up and wander around. I am on my knees with tiredness and the pain makes me want to throw up and cry. But yeh you get your knickers in a twist because I forgot to do one or two jobs today. Don't worry about me
>be me, highly capable World of Tanks player >be on semi-capable team with good friends on it >I'm last man standing on my team, enemy has only one tank alive as well >he's capturing our base >I run back to our base to try and kill him before he captures it >mom decides it's a good time to randomly barge in and give me a shoulder massage >i dont even like massages >"wtf mom go away" >she doesn't listen >2 seconds left before enemy tank captures the base >screw it, I don't have a choice, it's now or never >I aim at his weak area, and shoot >mom moves my shoulder right before I click to shoot >the reticle goes off-target by a couple degrees >the bullet (or shell, as we call them) hits the most heavily armoured part of his tank >it bounces off and does no damage >he lives and captures our base >we lose >team starts going crazy because a well-regarded player like me lost the game for them >my mom is completely oblivious >mfw