430 pts · November 4, 2013
I'm gonna add this to my vocabulary now, thank you!
It is, and I would have drawn on his dumb ass. Please don't misinterpret being WILLING to shoot someone threatening to kill me as hoping for an opportunity to shoot someone, but people like him are literally why I have guns. (My stalker threatened to beat me to death with a baseball bat several years ago. Then he threatened my family. Then I decided he was gonna be bringing a bat to a gunfight.)
… my fucking scuba instructor was a badass fatass. WTF is this?
IYKYK:
My proudest shitpost: https://old.reddit.com/r/humansarespaceorcs/comments/1b9ji7v/the_humans_brought_laser_rifles/
Orks can be, and frequently are, assholes. Still, I respect them for being straightforward and honest the whole time.
(I don't actually play Sisters of Battle. I can either afford to… wait no, I can't really afford anything, to be honest. However… if I could, I'd be using Skaven models for abhu Imperial Guard units supported by Sisters of Battle elites!)
Sisters of Battle represent!
Hol'up. WHICH Starship Troopers are we talking about? A couple takes were straight up fashy, but *most* of them have been brutal mockery of that sort of thing. Especially the most recent top-down-shooter one.
Their heads when somebody tells them about the Sisters of Battle…
My buddy has a CNC laser cutter, and one of the two crucial functions the "air enhancement" nozzle offers is protecting the optics from schmutz. The other thing is clearing away smoke, spatter, etc. in the beam path so the carefully-focused spot isn't stretched out by scattering off of smoke.
If I had to guess, it uses a flow of shielding gas to protect the laser window.
And if you did, they'd be happy to eat you!
> They are so cute I could curl up and die.
The interlinked rings remind me of goatse…
Happier, at least. I mean, at the end of the series, she wouldn't be the only human chimera out there.
Perfect for rocking a Mega Buster or other arm cannon at your local anime convention…
Except SpaceX. That's turned to solid gold.
"Achievement Unlocked: Cat Ass Trophy -- successfully track cat shit across more than half of the house."
Heh. After an incident, I came up with:
A pussy has warmth and depth. This person lacks such redeeming features.
Star Trek TNG tech manual says 1.5 kilos of antimatter, for ~62 megatons max. In the episode Yar dies, they fire a ~ 500 megaton weapon…
Photon torpedoes warheads typically include what, about a kilogram of antimatter?
That fetus probably has more brain cells than the lot of 'em…
On page 189 of Battletech: A Time of War Companion. Centaurs and mermaids are page 40 of Battletech: The Periphery. ;)
But even in universe tanks built with the same techniques are superior to mechs over easy terrain.
And it's heavily compartmentalized and redundant.
Except it's easier to drive via DNI systems than tanks, and doesn't require invasive brain surgery that limits the service life of pilots.
I think they just expect to die of something else before the cancer has a chance to get them.
I'm gonna add this to my vocabulary now, thank you!
It is, and I would have drawn on his dumb ass. Please don't misinterpret being WILLING to shoot someone threatening to kill me as hoping for an opportunity to shoot someone, but people like him are literally why I have guns. (My stalker threatened to beat me to death with a baseball bat several years ago. Then he threatened my family. Then I decided he was gonna be bringing a bat to a gunfight.)
… my fucking scuba instructor was a badass fatass. WTF is this?
IYKYK:
My proudest shitpost:
https://old.reddit.com/r/humansarespaceorcs/comments/1b9ji7v/the_humans_brought_laser_rifles/
Orks can be, and frequently are, assholes. Still, I respect them for being straightforward and honest the whole time.
(I don't actually play Sisters of Battle. I can either afford to… wait no, I can't really afford anything, to be honest. However… if I could, I'd be using Skaven models for abhu Imperial Guard units supported by Sisters of Battle elites!)
Sisters of Battle represent!
Hol'up. WHICH Starship Troopers are we talking about? A couple takes were straight up fashy, but *most* of them have been brutal mockery of that sort of thing. Especially the most recent top-down-shooter one.
Their heads when somebody tells them about the Sisters of Battle…
My buddy has a CNC laser cutter, and one of the two crucial functions the "air enhancement" nozzle offers is protecting the optics from schmutz. The other thing is clearing away smoke, spatter, etc. in the beam path so the carefully-focused spot isn't stretched out by scattering off of smoke.
If I had to guess, it uses a flow of shielding gas to protect the laser window.
And if you did, they'd be happy to eat you!
> They are so cute I could curl up and die.
> They are so cute I could curl up and die.
The interlinked rings remind me of goatse…
Happier, at least. I mean, at the end of the series, she wouldn't be the only human chimera out there.
Perfect for rocking a Mega Buster or other arm cannon at your local anime convention…
Except SpaceX. That's turned to solid gold.
"Achievement Unlocked: Cat Ass Trophy -- successfully track cat shit across more than half of the house."
Heh. After an incident, I came up with:
A pussy has warmth and depth. This person lacks such redeeming features.
Star Trek TNG tech manual says 1.5 kilos of antimatter, for ~62 megatons max. In the episode Yar dies, they fire a ~ 500 megaton weapon…
Photon torpedoes warheads typically include what, about a kilogram of antimatter?
That fetus probably has more brain cells than the lot of 'em…
On page 189 of Battletech: A Time of War Companion. Centaurs and mermaids are page 40 of Battletech: The Periphery. ;)
But even in universe tanks built with the same techniques are superior to mechs over easy terrain.
And it's heavily compartmentalized and redundant.
Except it's easier to drive via DNI systems than tanks, and doesn't require invasive brain surgery that limits the service life of pilots.
I think they just expect to die of something else before the cancer has a chance to get them.