My brother is a sick man and deserved to be treated better. Please ban me immediately.

Bud use ban hammer

your """"""brother""""""

Not everyone can handle the minus world sauce and it's almost certainly not a positive contributing factor to anyone's mental health

Please give me a user group that looks identical to a banned member but has regular member permissions and make it snappy, my brother is unwell.

Bud use ban hammer

didn't you leave?

Remember me, Eddie? When I banned your brother I talked just...like...this!

Mason, if you're here (and I know you are), you have an unhealthy obsession with this place. I tried to empathize with you but then you called me the n word. Even so, I will still take the time out my day to give you helpful advice.

You really want to come back?


You really want another chance at becoming a MW community member?





Alright. I'll give you the secret sauce BUT only go down this path if you're serious. This is your last warning. DO NOT proceed if you're going to be half-hearted about this.


You ready?

Alright.












1. Become a Furry
It is not longer 2007 and becoming a furry is a great way to connect with new social circles, make new friends and try new hobbies (roleplaying, singing, you can even get into arts and crafts if you want). Here's my fursona for reference


He's very cool and I've gotten a lot of furbitches wet just from showing him off at conventions and online discord (his name is Fubuki NekoLord btw). You can make yours here but don't copy mine or i'll be the one calling you slurs next
https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1194424







2. Go on a gender identity journey
1. Are you a straight white male?
If yes, then go to step 2.
2. Do you have a discord account?
If yes, go to step 3.
3. Go back and repeat questions 1 and 2 until you aren't sure anymore.

Gender identity has become more of an important discussion for people over the years and has lead a lot of people into discovering things about themselves that they wouldn't have initially had they just accepted the roles that society forced on them at birth that they never asked for. I always like to provide people with this link as I find it to be the most factual and straight to the point in regard to these issues
https://mhanational.org/resources/explor...ur-gender/

My personal favorite blurbs are

>Exploring your gender doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re trans or nonbinary.

Which is true, many people think you have to fit into one or the other and that isn't really the case. Idek who decided that if im being honest, just explore what's comfortable for you. Put on some Lana Del Rey, Blondie or some city pop japanese music. Wear skirt if you want to. Try all these things out and realize what gender/sex is. Additionally, some more things that may help you on your journey
This one is also good

>If you can, show up to trans and broader LGBTQ+ events as an ally

I like the emphasis on meeting people in real life within your community, if you can avoid discord and reddit when going on your journey.


watch bakemonogatari


watch one piece



Now finally, none of these things will necessarily get you unbanned here or even get people to forgive you, but maybe other people will. I really just wanted to tell someone to watch one piece. Ok good luck bro

zelma did you hear about the fire at sakuracon. thats not related im just glad you weren't in the cheesecake factory

That was a good story.

Stories were the reason I was 13 years old, standing outside at 3 AM, ankle deep in the creek, staring down the tunnel with two of my friends while the rain drenched us to the bone. Stories were the reason Harry’s hand was shaking when he held that flashlight, and stories were the reason Nick was wearing the worst faux-brave-face I’d ever seen. Me? I just shivered, the near-freezing drops emblematic of a late-Autumn rain beginning to soak through my old, hand-me-down raincoat.

It was a miserable night, but stories make you do stupid things. You just have to know the ending.

Especially if you live in the kind of town that’s got a population anywhere under that golden 10,000 mark where people seem to unilaterally stop being as weird and start getting lives. But when everyone knows each other, someone’s gotta keep the rumor mill grinding - lest we starve for the winter. The adults, as you’d expect, would cluster together on the weekends like seagulls picking at stale parking-lot fries, running their mouths about how Beth slept with Sam while his wife was out of town, or how they always stuck Kathy on the phones at the post office because it was the one place you couldn’t smell the booze rolling off her tongue.

You can probably tell that I never cared about any of that kind of stuff, and you’d be right. I was a kid when I lived there, and the second adulthood graced me with its infinite wonders, I got the hell out. As long as I had Halo 2, chips in the cupboard, and some Coke in the fridge, Beth could be hog-tying Sam and bending him over the table, and I still doubt I’d give it more than a “Huh”.

Adults were like a different species for the most part. I didn’t know them, and I didn’t care. Besides, our stories were always more interesting anyway.

Don’t get me wrong, there was a fair share of the same kind of thing; Erik Thorlsson ate worms one time out on the playground, Mike Hester was gay because he wore a “GAP” shirt and that was only one letter away, so obviously he liked men. Mike did actually come out as gay 9 or so years later, but somehow I don’t think the shirt was why. Point is, there was no escaping that particular brand of rumor - but the benefit of being a kid in a small town is that you unlock a secret, second category of tale. One shared primarily under the cover of nightfall when your parents are asleep and you and your friends are so hopped up on sugar and caffeine that you feel like you might never sleep again.

Ghost stories. The paranormal. Aliens, monsters, masked killers in the woods, the good shit.
I mean, I knew most of them were bullshit. I’m not gonna pretend I was the smartest kid in the world, but I wasn’t gullible. I just liked to hear them. Sparked my imagination, or something.

There was this creek that cut through a third of the town, shallow and usually gentle, if there was water actually running through there at all, which there… usually wasn’t. We didn’t get too much in the way of rainfall, and all the springtime mountain snowmelt usually just went straight to the actual river that cut through the other two thirds. Most of the time the creek just sat empty or close-to, like a trench long after the soldiers got up and left. The defining aspect of the creek though was a tunnel, maybe about 30 feet long, that passed underneath the road in my neighborhood. On the surface, there wasn’t really anything that was weird about the tunnel. Solid concrete, covered in graffiti all the way along the inside, and dark as all hell - especially at night.

Naturally, this tunnel was the root of basically every story that got passed around, being the only remotely “spooky” location on this side of town. Take for example, the story of “Old Red-Eyes”. Nick told me this one, and when it came to bullshit, that guy was a maestro. I only really hung out with him because his parents let us watch Kill Bill when we were kids, and I still remember my general reaction.

So, the story went, there was something that lived in that tunnel that only came out at night, something bad, with these red eyes that just… followed you wherever you went. Sometimes two eyes, sometimes three, something the tunnel would be full of ‘em’. I told him that I didn’t believe it, because the tunnel was a straight line and there was nowhere for anything to hide. He told me that Old Red-Eyes hid in the cracks in the ground. He also told me to shut up and let him tell his story. I couldn’t argue with that. Apparently it never spoke, never made a sound, just watched you - and if you asked it for something, it would give it to you... in one way or another. Good fortune, money, romance, any of that stuff. It’d come to you eventually.

But, he said, it’d make you do things.

He stopped there, and I asked him if that was it - and whatever that last part even meant. Apparently, that WAS it, he didn’t know. I told him that was the worst story I’d ever heard, and he just shrugged. Told me not to blame him, it was his cousin that told him to begin with. He swore it was real though, up and down. He said his cousin’d seen four red eyes, glowing out at him silently from the depths of the tunnel. Some real nasty odor too, apparently. I think I was about 13 when he told me that one, and I already knew enough about my town’s general demographics to figure that it was probably just a bunch of teenagers, sucking down blunt smoke like their lives depended on it and trying to stay dead silent so they don’t get busted by the cops - or worse, their parents. It’s like I said, I didn’t put much stock in any of this stuff.

And there’s a reason for that. None of these stories had any real substance to them, no real associated facts or shit you could back up. No folklore or history spinning a story about anything with more depth than a scary monster hiding around in concrete cracks. But there was one that did fit those criteria. One that I did believe. Because it actually happened.

Bro I ain't reading all that but congrats or sorry that happened

is this ai