A bit of silliness
On Saturday I went d-d-d-dancin' y'all! *sssssqueee!* I haven't been to a club in sofa king long I don't even know if I remember when the last time was. So we got our grooves on and then I found something that was both horrifying and awesome.
When one dances in a very crowded area, one gets hot. And, it stands to reason that the facilities in such a location will most likely be very warm as well. This was the case on Saturday evening. I admit I was dreading the restroom bc it's always such a pain when you're hot and sweaty. Well. I was in for a surprise. The bathroom had steel toilets. And when I saw these I blinked and thought. "Huh." Upon further inspection they seemed...covered..in...water. Then I thought "Oh ew." And on even further inspection I found out that they were iced cold steel toilets! As in, they were chilled with cold water which is why they were steel!!!!!!
Two thoughts. 1.)Ewww!!! People sit on these damp toilets?!?! 2.) OMG this feels so amazing!
Because it was so hot!!!!!!!!!!!! I have never welcomed a cold seat more in my life! hahahahavomit?
Anyways. Moving on and continuing my tirade against K. Knightley.
Doing what she does best. I think I make a better Duchess, personally.
(close your damn mouth!!!!)
This photo, which is now my fbk profile photo, prompted the following bit of utter silliness. (Backstory: I have a friend who usually engages in these nonsense-battles with me, only he will never end it no matter how perfect a place has been made to end. He can't not win. And we cap the endings with an *. As you will see. I believe I won this round however.)
Also note- the following is fairly rated R. If you are sensitive to "hilarious" hints of bestiality and also rape (nothing graphic!!) perhaps you should not click the link.
Um. I didn't realize how long this was. Also, I adore all British and European folk. Any insults are purely fictionalized and made up on the spot.
Nom’s Little Sister
For a second I thought his picture was real, then i realized the odd color of your skin, you seem to be glowing, whereas this pirate suit is not.... poser.
Sun at 10:20am
A
They made very odd, peculiarly straight, collars back in those days...
Yesterday at 3:14pm • Delete
Nom
i said i made a better Duchess, I never claimed to be a photoshop expert.
Yesterday at 3:15pm • Delete
A
duh. A duchess would never be an expert at anything.
Yesterday at 3:16pm • Delete
Nom
Exactly. When there are servants to do things for you, why bother knowing how to do things?
Yesterday at 3:17pm • Delete
A
Are you admitting to being incompetent, demanding and snooty?
Yesterday at 3:20pm • Delete
Nom
Oh, I can't be bothered with conversation right now. I have to go do something decadent over there. Good day.
Yesterday at 3:21pm • Delete
A
G'day. Your parfum reeks like a dankish sheep-biting clotpole anyways.
Yesterday at 3:25pm • Delete
Nom
Sir, you are rude.
Yesterday at 3:27pm • Delete
A
(bows)...(sarcastically)...
Yesterday at 3:28pm • Delete
Nom
Attendants? Throw the dirty man out. (flounces off)
Yesterday at 3:28pm • Delete
A
(on the way out)
*
Yesterday at 3:29pm • Delete
Nom
(and the door hit your ass on the way out)
*
Yesterday at 3:30pm • Delete
A
(but she wouldn't have known that, unless she was still interested in looking back at me while she was "flouncing off" and her last memory of me would be...)
*
Yesterday at 3:32pm • Delete
Nom
(no she would have just assumed, bc she's instructed all attendants to ensure that doors hit unwanted people's asses on the way out.)
*
Yesterday at 3:34pm • Delete
A
Your attendants couldn't stand your stench, either. We laughed about it in great length over a barrel of wine we snuck out the back chamber. They let me back in, and I'm still in the party...look to your left...
*
Yesterday at 3:39pm • Delete
Nom
Oh sorry, I can't as I'm off to some extravagant ball. And when I or my important father hear of this, which we will, the servants who let you in will be fired, and what meager scraps of property or livestock you own will be destroyed.
Enjoy that wine.
*
Yesterday at 3:41pm • Delete
A
So many people you have shat upon these last few years. The revolution awaits your stenchness when you return.
Enjoy the ball.
*
Yesterday at 3:45pm • Delete
Nom
"These people" wouldn't dare. They lack the initiative, security and intelligence to organize any kind of revolution. Any backbone or sense of pride they once had has long since been broken by my ancestors. Also my father keeps a fire-breathing dragon. There will be no change.
Thank you. I quite enjoyed the ball.
*
Yesterday at 3:49pm • Delete
A
Funny you should mention that dragon. You very well know that the majority of your servants you have degraded for all these years happen to be Chinese slaves that you picked up on your grandfather's trade route expedition. And that was their dragon. They've been planning this for 50 years under your noses. And the dragon is in it with them. Your father is already dust. You are next.
I'm glad you enjoyed the ball, your Stenchness.
*
Yesterday at 3:57pm • Delete
Nom
I'm not stupid, sir. Which is why I secretly purchased my own heinous, scaly beast on one of my many travels to Wales a couple years back and have been preparing for just such an occasion. My very loyal, secret horde of Welsh ninja's are at this very moment making plans for my escape and preparing my glorious re-takeover of the family estate.
Do not underestimate the Welsh. They're crazy.
And when next you see us, you shall die.
*
Yesterday at 4:00pm • Delete
A
I'm afraid you have underestimated our ally, the great Scottish knight, Sir Leifenstiegel. He has burned the bridges at the pass, and is facing off with your ninjas at this very moment. It appears to be a good little battle, but I'm afraid you are without victory. It seems as though your ninjas were trying to throw mere throwing stars while Sir Leifenstiegel and his boys and Olga were tossing hammers over the great bridge. Hammer tossing, as we know, always trumps little-pieces-of-snowflake-metal throwing. Last I heard, your scaly beast was no match for an authentic turn of the century (something tramp stamp duchesses could never dream of) sight of perfection fire-breathing Chinese dragon. Viva la revolution. Yes, the spanish are with us on this one. Your stench has reached too far.
*
Yesterday at 4:16pm • Delete
Nom
A lady always keeps something up her sleeve. You know those handy little hammers the barbarous Scots (those filthy creatures) have? Who do you think gave them the supplies when they first entered our domain? They couldn't travel with such suspicious accoutrements as they get searched at every checkpoint from Wick to Brighton. No no, the wood they were able to "conveniently" steal have been infected with a deadly pox. Perhaps they succeed in taking over my family's manor today. But will they survive the "curse" I hurl at them whilst retreating on the back of my flying pegasus to safety? Doubtful. And then, once my "wicked black magic" has again struck fear into the simple hearts of the peasants, they'll be begging to have me back if only to spare their half-starved children's lives.
Which I will happily oblige. Once my irresponsibly lavish home has been restored to at least it's previous opulence.
Also, I wouldn't be so quick to discount those Welshmen. They're very good at illusion. Besides, why would a Welsh ninja have only throwing stars? That makes no sense. Ah, my winged steed arrives.
See you in hell, my dirty friend.
*
Yesterday at 4:36pm • Delete
A
It will be sad to see Leifenstiegal and the boys and Olga go. They fought a fine battle. The Spanish will be holding the fort for now, and the Chinese are on your trail (which is not hard to follow with that stench of yours).
Oh, whoopsy! Did you have a big fall? One of the clubmen saw you fall from the sky from your noble steed of the sky. What a shame. It seems as though you forgot the Scots greatest secret allies, the Greeks. They heard of the massacre at wounded knoll and Leifenstiegal's suffering from pox. They were very saddened to hear the news. And very angry to have loaned you a pegasus under these conditions. Had they known it was you that they loaned the great mane and tail of the sky, they surely would not have made such a loan. So, they called upon the Gods (which still have some power after all of these monotheistic years) to knock you off the great pegasus. The Gods could not do this, But they did place before the greeks the great magician Thereloopoulous to speak to the flying horse via ESP. Evidently the Gods chose a wisely candidate, Thereloopoulous, because you are laying in a gruesome marsh only a few kilometers away from the Chinese patrol. They noticed that your laptop was destroyed in the fall, so it is a shame that you will not be able to reply to this most dreadful of news for you. Your fight was a mobile one, to be sure. But, I'm afraid your stench got the best of you.
*
Yesterday at 4:52pm • Delete
Nom
Good thing I demanded that the bog peasant whose marsh I fell in has an old PC I forced him to let me use.
What's that? Is that...the beating of terrible wings? Why, it is! It's my Pegasus, who has been driven mad by the sound of creepy Greeks in her head. She owes me her allegiance (apple treats, you see) and has come back for me. We shall continue on, once I have my lovely travelling dress cleaned of course. And also after eating our fill of roasted rabbit and hay.
Enjoy the pox. It is not limited to my home only. My remaining Welshmen have by now infected the rest of the small "armies" holding the, what did you call it, fort? A wooden fort? The Swedes, my kin from my whore father's mother, are excellent shots with emblazoned arrows.
We'll meet again, dirty man. I'm sure of it.
...I said rabbit, you daft Swamp fool! No person of means eats frog legs! If I weren't at your temporary hospitality I'd have my batshit insane Pegasus kick you in the chest!
*
Yesterday at 5:56pm • Delete
A
Pox? What pox? After learning of Leifenstiegal and his boys and Olga's dying, we all got vaccinated with the latest Pox stew created by the lady witch of Willenbury. While we were there, I asked to see into her crystal ball. She showed me many things, and many things she did not. However, she did show me something of importance. Turns out the magician Thereloopoulous' magic did not work after all on your sweet pegasus. Instead, the great pegasus was acting so strange because of pox. Yes, what a disastrous backlash for you. Apparently, your loyal Welshmen had been having their way with pegasus in your old quarters. This is nothing new, with those Welshmen. It has long been known that they are very attracted to anything on four legs; their perversity is their greatest weakness, and they could not deny the sweetness of a rare treat such as Pegasus. However, this time a few of them were infected with a strain of pox that you had them trace on the wooden handles of the Scot's weapons. You couldn't tell that the great Pegasus had the pox because his tail was covering up the only trace of the rash. Nonetheless, the crystal ball tells me that as you are receiving this message your poor Pegasus has just let out his last winged whinny. Scratch that, I am just getting word from one of the Chinese spies that Pegasus has just died in your arms with one of your worm-ridden apples in his mouth. A horrible way to die, with such a stench in front of him.
In other bad news for you, we have secured all dress cleaners on the continent. You will have to make due with marsh water. You dirty stench.
Also, in the ball I saw a patch of spots flaring up on your back. Looks like someone didn't go in for their annual stew this year...
Yesterday at 6:30pm • Delete
Nom
Oh, be not afraid of those flare-y spots. It's actually a delayed reaction from the stew's injection site. It happens to about 1 in 25 people. Fairly common really. I have a salve for it just in case (I like to be safe you know?) and it should clear up in a few days.
OH!! My poor, dead winged beast!!! I knew I should have kept her away from those randy Welshmen! But I wasn't paying them enough as it was, so I just turned a blind eye.
Good thing my Ole' Lady Peg, as I called her, gave birth to this healthy, yet terrible dragon-horse thing just before she died. Looks like not only were the Welshmen getting their jollies, eh?
....this has taken a moste foul turne.
At any rate, by Grace of God Almightie, I shall yet take flight. And now my steed comes with awesome fire action. And not a trace of the pox. Dragons can't get it, you know.
ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR WHEN I COME RIDING INTO TOWNE AND SET THE VILLAGE AFIRE WITH MY WRATH!!! And also we're invisible so you can't see us coming.
Furthermore we burned your house and all occupants within. Oops! These baby mutants, who can control their unstable and totally random jets of fire, huh?
In related news, delight in that poisoned batch of "witch's stew" which shall kill off at least 2/3 of all inhabitants in the countye, leaving the rest severely weakened. Perhaps next time you check to see who's on whose payroll.
You'll know my Swedish-kin army by their snazzy pastel uniforms when they come marching in over the horizon.
*
Yesterday at 6:59pm • Delete
A
I'm sure you are well acquainted with general lindstromassonlof. We are having a good laugh about your confidence. As I said, your stench reaches far, and they said they've never heard of your father. These Swedes are interesting folk. We've had good music throughout the last few nights. And in one night, they have found a way to make sure that all of our sick and dying are taken care of without exception, calling it universal health care. Simply brilliant. Anyway, it is a much better system than when you had those hand-in-the-cookie-jar doctors telling everyone to rub bushes on their wounds for a cure. I digress.
Ah, the Swedes. And they brought the rest of the Scandinavians with them, too. Here is a leader of Norway, Baldur Aagaard, who remembers you from a party your whore father had. Referring to you he says, "like father, like daughter." Oh, these Scandinavians. Valhalla must be a fine place with these giant Nordic folk in the mix. And you are not going to believe this. On top of the Chinese dragon we now have a viking dragon with our fleet. Many thought this dragon to be a myth, but I assure you the myth is out. Rumor has it that he used to pull thousands of ships upon the seas without a rest and then annihilate everything in his path on the day of battle. The (now wicked) witch told me about him in the crystal ball. She said something about being worse than a nu..cle..ar bomb, if that means anything to you? Anyway, we have two amazing full-sized dragons now. I'm sure that beats the filly of a Welshmen-raped horse any day of the week.
The Spanish are all dead. Thanks to your stewy old witch. However, the Chinese are all fine. Luckily, you did not poison the stew with milk, as this might have done them all in. But, thinking ahead was never your strong suite. You will see me soon, I will be the one with the snazzy pastel uniforms by my side marching in over the horizon with two terrifically terrifying dragons over our helms. You are alone with a filly of a welshman-raped horse and your stench. You are a pathetic, washed up hag. Your tyranny (and stench) should prepare to die.
Yesterday at 9:30pm • Delete
A
oh, and...*
Yesterday at 9:48pm • Delete
Nom
Oh hey. Enjoyed that last night of entertainment did you? Well I'm glad. Because, about five hours after you passed out, drugged by a particularly cherished cousin of mine, and after the Swedes lulled you and your barbarian horde into a false sense of security, they totally attacked you in your sleep. Giving me the signal, I and my Welsh-raped, bastard dragon-Pegasus baby flew in and whilst you screamed your last scream of surprise and fright, and then my mutant Pega-Drorse (name I gave its species) burned you to a crisp until you died from it. And then my mightie Swedes and I continued to defeat the infidels until all were vanquished, my lands and property restored, minimal peasant beatings (for I am merciful, as long as they promise never to uprise again) and you are dead, along all your allies, and I totally escaped with only a few minor scratches, it wasn't a dream, hallucination, or fantasy, and also you can't come back to haunt me or mine because my witch like, cursed you?, and I won. Because I'm a Duchess. And I get what I want.
Until I'm persuaded to marry and get basically raped nightly, forced to endure my husband taking many mistresses right under my nose and subsequently fathering bastard children I may or may not have to care for, have several miscarriages and stillbirths myself, and finally, 15 total pregnancies later, die in childbirth.
But until then I get what I want.
as.ter.isk.
*
Yesterday at 9:50pm • Delete
Nom’s Little Sister
really guys?? really?
3 hours ago • Delete
Nom
*
2 hours ago • Delete
A
exactly *
2 hours ago • Delete
Nom
Pretty much. *
2 hours ago • Delete
A
Yep *
2 hours ago • Delete
Nom
Mhmm.*
2 hours ago • Delete
Nom’s Little Sister
annoying.
about an hour ago • Delete
-Fin
When one dances in a very crowded area, one gets hot. And, it stands to reason that the facilities in such a location will most likely be very warm as well. This was the case on Saturday evening. I admit I was dreading the restroom bc it's always such a pain when you're hot and sweaty. Well. I was in for a surprise. The bathroom had steel toilets. And when I saw these I blinked and thought. "Huh." Upon further inspection they seemed...covered..in...water. Then I thought "Oh ew." And on even further inspection I found out that they were iced cold steel toilets! As in, they were chilled with cold water which is why they were steel!!!!!!
Two thoughts. 1.)Ewww!!! People sit on these damp toilets?!?! 2.) OMG this feels so amazing!
Because it was so hot!!!!!!!!!!!! I have never welcomed a cold seat more in my life! hahahahavomit?
Anyways. Moving on and continuing my tirade against K. Knightley.
Doing what she does best. I think I make a better Duchess, personally.
(close your damn mouth!!!!)
This photo, which is now my fbk profile photo, prompted the following bit of utter silliness. (Backstory: I have a friend who usually engages in these nonsense-battles with me, only he will never end it no matter how perfect a place has been made to end. He can't not win. And we cap the endings with an *. As you will see. I believe I won this round however.)
Also note- the following is fairly rated R. If you are sensitive to "hilarious" hints of bestiality and also rape (nothing graphic!!) perhaps you should not click the link.
Um. I didn't realize how long this was. Also, I adore all British and European folk. Any insults are purely fictionalized and made up on the spot.
Nom’s Little Sister
For a second I thought his picture was real, then i realized the odd color of your skin, you seem to be glowing, whereas this pirate suit is not.... poser.
Sun at 10:20am
A
They made very odd, peculiarly straight, collars back in those days...
Yesterday at 3:14pm • Delete
Nom
i said i made a better Duchess, I never claimed to be a photoshop expert.
Yesterday at 3:15pm • Delete
A
duh. A duchess would never be an expert at anything.
Yesterday at 3:16pm • Delete
Nom
Exactly. When there are servants to do things for you, why bother knowing how to do things?
Yesterday at 3:17pm • Delete
A
Are you admitting to being incompetent, demanding and snooty?
Yesterday at 3:20pm • Delete
Nom
Oh, I can't be bothered with conversation right now. I have to go do something decadent over there. Good day.
Yesterday at 3:21pm • Delete
A
G'day. Your parfum reeks like a dankish sheep-biting clotpole anyways.
Yesterday at 3:25pm • Delete
Nom
Sir, you are rude.
Yesterday at 3:27pm • Delete
A
(bows)...(sarcastically)...
Yesterday at 3:28pm • Delete
Nom
Attendants? Throw the dirty man out. (flounces off)
Yesterday at 3:28pm • Delete
A
(on the way out)
*
Yesterday at 3:29pm • Delete
Nom
(and the door hit your ass on the way out)
*
Yesterday at 3:30pm • Delete
A
(but she wouldn't have known that, unless she was still interested in looking back at me while she was "flouncing off" and her last memory of me would be...)
*
Yesterday at 3:32pm • Delete
Nom
(no she would have just assumed, bc she's instructed all attendants to ensure that doors hit unwanted people's asses on the way out.)
*
Yesterday at 3:34pm • Delete
A
Your attendants couldn't stand your stench, either. We laughed about it in great length over a barrel of wine we snuck out the back chamber. They let me back in, and I'm still in the party...look to your left...
*
Yesterday at 3:39pm • Delete
Nom
Oh sorry, I can't as I'm off to some extravagant ball. And when I or my important father hear of this, which we will, the servants who let you in will be fired, and what meager scraps of property or livestock you own will be destroyed.
Enjoy that wine.
*
Yesterday at 3:41pm • Delete
A
So many people you have shat upon these last few years. The revolution awaits your stenchness when you return.
Enjoy the ball.
*
Yesterday at 3:45pm • Delete
Nom
"These people" wouldn't dare. They lack the initiative, security and intelligence to organize any kind of revolution. Any backbone or sense of pride they once had has long since been broken by my ancestors. Also my father keeps a fire-breathing dragon. There will be no change.
Thank you. I quite enjoyed the ball.
*
Yesterday at 3:49pm • Delete
A
Funny you should mention that dragon. You very well know that the majority of your servants you have degraded for all these years happen to be Chinese slaves that you picked up on your grandfather's trade route expedition. And that was their dragon. They've been planning this for 50 years under your noses. And the dragon is in it with them. Your father is already dust. You are next.
I'm glad you enjoyed the ball, your Stenchness.
*
Yesterday at 3:57pm • Delete
Nom
I'm not stupid, sir. Which is why I secretly purchased my own heinous, scaly beast on one of my many travels to Wales a couple years back and have been preparing for just such an occasion. My very loyal, secret horde of Welsh ninja's are at this very moment making plans for my escape and preparing my glorious re-takeover of the family estate.
Do not underestimate the Welsh. They're crazy.
And when next you see us, you shall die.
*
Yesterday at 4:00pm • Delete
A
I'm afraid you have underestimated our ally, the great Scottish knight, Sir Leifenstiegel. He has burned the bridges at the pass, and is facing off with your ninjas at this very moment. It appears to be a good little battle, but I'm afraid you are without victory. It seems as though your ninjas were trying to throw mere throwing stars while Sir Leifenstiegel and his boys and Olga were tossing hammers over the great bridge. Hammer tossing, as we know, always trumps little-pieces-of-snowflake-metal throwing. Last I heard, your scaly beast was no match for an authentic turn of the century (something tramp stamp duchesses could never dream of) sight of perfection fire-breathing Chinese dragon. Viva la revolution. Yes, the spanish are with us on this one. Your stench has reached too far.
*
Yesterday at 4:16pm • Delete
Nom
A lady always keeps something up her sleeve. You know those handy little hammers the barbarous Scots (those filthy creatures) have? Who do you think gave them the supplies when they first entered our domain? They couldn't travel with such suspicious accoutrements as they get searched at every checkpoint from Wick to Brighton. No no, the wood they were able to "conveniently" steal have been infected with a deadly pox. Perhaps they succeed in taking over my family's manor today. But will they survive the "curse" I hurl at them whilst retreating on the back of my flying pegasus to safety? Doubtful. And then, once my "wicked black magic" has again struck fear into the simple hearts of the peasants, they'll be begging to have me back if only to spare their half-starved children's lives.
Which I will happily oblige. Once my irresponsibly lavish home has been restored to at least it's previous opulence.
Also, I wouldn't be so quick to discount those Welshmen. They're very good at illusion. Besides, why would a Welsh ninja have only throwing stars? That makes no sense. Ah, my winged steed arrives.
See you in hell, my dirty friend.
*
Yesterday at 4:36pm • Delete
A
It will be sad to see Leifenstiegal and the boys and Olga go. They fought a fine battle. The Spanish will be holding the fort for now, and the Chinese are on your trail (which is not hard to follow with that stench of yours).
Oh, whoopsy! Did you have a big fall? One of the clubmen saw you fall from the sky from your noble steed of the sky. What a shame. It seems as though you forgot the Scots greatest secret allies, the Greeks. They heard of the massacre at wounded knoll and Leifenstiegal's suffering from pox. They were very saddened to hear the news. And very angry to have loaned you a pegasus under these conditions. Had they known it was you that they loaned the great mane and tail of the sky, they surely would not have made such a loan. So, they called upon the Gods (which still have some power after all of these monotheistic years) to knock you off the great pegasus. The Gods could not do this, But they did place before the greeks the great magician Thereloopoulous to speak to the flying horse via ESP. Evidently the Gods chose a wisely candidate, Thereloopoulous, because you are laying in a gruesome marsh only a few kilometers away from the Chinese patrol. They noticed that your laptop was destroyed in the fall, so it is a shame that you will not be able to reply to this most dreadful of news for you. Your fight was a mobile one, to be sure. But, I'm afraid your stench got the best of you.
*
Yesterday at 4:52pm • Delete
Nom
Good thing I demanded that the bog peasant whose marsh I fell in has an old PC I forced him to let me use.
What's that? Is that...the beating of terrible wings? Why, it is! It's my Pegasus, who has been driven mad by the sound of creepy Greeks in her head. She owes me her allegiance (apple treats, you see) and has come back for me. We shall continue on, once I have my lovely travelling dress cleaned of course. And also after eating our fill of roasted rabbit and hay.
Enjoy the pox. It is not limited to my home only. My remaining Welshmen have by now infected the rest of the small "armies" holding the, what did you call it, fort? A wooden fort? The Swedes, my kin from my whore father's mother, are excellent shots with emblazoned arrows.
We'll meet again, dirty man. I'm sure of it.
...I said rabbit, you daft Swamp fool! No person of means eats frog legs! If I weren't at your temporary hospitality I'd have my batshit insane Pegasus kick you in the chest!
*
Yesterday at 5:56pm • Delete
A
Pox? What pox? After learning of Leifenstiegal and his boys and Olga's dying, we all got vaccinated with the latest Pox stew created by the lady witch of Willenbury. While we were there, I asked to see into her crystal ball. She showed me many things, and many things she did not. However, she did show me something of importance. Turns out the magician Thereloopoulous' magic did not work after all on your sweet pegasus. Instead, the great pegasus was acting so strange because of pox. Yes, what a disastrous backlash for you. Apparently, your loyal Welshmen had been having their way with pegasus in your old quarters. This is nothing new, with those Welshmen. It has long been known that they are very attracted to anything on four legs; their perversity is their greatest weakness, and they could not deny the sweetness of a rare treat such as Pegasus. However, this time a few of them were infected with a strain of pox that you had them trace on the wooden handles of the Scot's weapons. You couldn't tell that the great Pegasus had the pox because his tail was covering up the only trace of the rash. Nonetheless, the crystal ball tells me that as you are receiving this message your poor Pegasus has just let out his last winged whinny. Scratch that, I am just getting word from one of the Chinese spies that Pegasus has just died in your arms with one of your worm-ridden apples in his mouth. A horrible way to die, with such a stench in front of him.
In other bad news for you, we have secured all dress cleaners on the continent. You will have to make due with marsh water. You dirty stench.
Also, in the ball I saw a patch of spots flaring up on your back. Looks like someone didn't go in for their annual stew this year...
Yesterday at 6:30pm • Delete
Nom
Oh, be not afraid of those flare-y spots. It's actually a delayed reaction from the stew's injection site. It happens to about 1 in 25 people. Fairly common really. I have a salve for it just in case (I like to be safe you know?) and it should clear up in a few days.
OH!! My poor, dead winged beast!!! I knew I should have kept her away from those randy Welshmen! But I wasn't paying them enough as it was, so I just turned a blind eye.
Good thing my Ole' Lady Peg, as I called her, gave birth to this healthy, yet terrible dragon-horse thing just before she died. Looks like not only were the Welshmen getting their jollies, eh?
....this has taken a moste foul turne.
At any rate, by Grace of God Almightie, I shall yet take flight. And now my steed comes with awesome fire action. And not a trace of the pox. Dragons can't get it, you know.
ALL SHALL LOVE ME AND DESPAIR WHEN I COME RIDING INTO TOWNE AND SET THE VILLAGE AFIRE WITH MY WRATH!!! And also we're invisible so you can't see us coming.
Furthermore we burned your house and all occupants within. Oops! These baby mutants, who can control their unstable and totally random jets of fire, huh?
In related news, delight in that poisoned batch of "witch's stew" which shall kill off at least 2/3 of all inhabitants in the countye, leaving the rest severely weakened. Perhaps next time you check to see who's on whose payroll.
You'll know my Swedish-kin army by their snazzy pastel uniforms when they come marching in over the horizon.
*
Yesterday at 6:59pm • Delete
A
I'm sure you are well acquainted with general lindstromassonlof. We are having a good laugh about your confidence. As I said, your stench reaches far, and they said they've never heard of your father. These Swedes are interesting folk. We've had good music throughout the last few nights. And in one night, they have found a way to make sure that all of our sick and dying are taken care of without exception, calling it universal health care. Simply brilliant. Anyway, it is a much better system than when you had those hand-in-the-cookie-jar doctors telling everyone to rub bushes on their wounds for a cure. I digress.
Ah, the Swedes. And they brought the rest of the Scandinavians with them, too. Here is a leader of Norway, Baldur Aagaard, who remembers you from a party your whore father had. Referring to you he says, "like father, like daughter." Oh, these Scandinavians. Valhalla must be a fine place with these giant Nordic folk in the mix. And you are not going to believe this. On top of the Chinese dragon we now have a viking dragon with our fleet. Many thought this dragon to be a myth, but I assure you the myth is out. Rumor has it that he used to pull thousands of ships upon the seas without a rest and then annihilate everything in his path on the day of battle. The (now wicked) witch told me about him in the crystal ball. She said something about being worse than a nu..cle..ar bomb, if that means anything to you? Anyway, we have two amazing full-sized dragons now. I'm sure that beats the filly of a Welshmen-raped horse any day of the week.
The Spanish are all dead. Thanks to your stewy old witch. However, the Chinese are all fine. Luckily, you did not poison the stew with milk, as this might have done them all in. But, thinking ahead was never your strong suite. You will see me soon, I will be the one with the snazzy pastel uniforms by my side marching in over the horizon with two terrifically terrifying dragons over our helms. You are alone with a filly of a welshman-raped horse and your stench. You are a pathetic, washed up hag. Your tyranny (and stench) should prepare to die.
Yesterday at 9:30pm • Delete
A
oh, and...*
Yesterday at 9:48pm • Delete
Nom
Oh hey. Enjoyed that last night of entertainment did you? Well I'm glad. Because, about five hours after you passed out, drugged by a particularly cherished cousin of mine, and after the Swedes lulled you and your barbarian horde into a false sense of security, they totally attacked you in your sleep. Giving me the signal, I and my Welsh-raped, bastard dragon-Pegasus baby flew in and whilst you screamed your last scream of surprise and fright, and then my mutant Pega-Drorse (name I gave its species) burned you to a crisp until you died from it. And then my mightie Swedes and I continued to defeat the infidels until all were vanquished, my lands and property restored, minimal peasant beatings (for I am merciful, as long as they promise never to uprise again) and you are dead, along all your allies, and I totally escaped with only a few minor scratches, it wasn't a dream, hallucination, or fantasy, and also you can't come back to haunt me or mine because my witch like, cursed you?, and I won. Because I'm a Duchess. And I get what I want.
Until I'm persuaded to marry and get basically raped nightly, forced to endure my husband taking many mistresses right under my nose and subsequently fathering bastard children I may or may not have to care for, have several miscarriages and stillbirths myself, and finally, 15 total pregnancies later, die in childbirth.
But until then I get what I want.
as.ter.isk.
*
Yesterday at 9:50pm • Delete
Nom’s Little Sister
really guys?? really?
3 hours ago • Delete
Nom
*
2 hours ago • Delete
A
exactly *
2 hours ago • Delete
Nom
Pretty much. *
2 hours ago • Delete
A
Yep *
2 hours ago • Delete
Nom
Mhmm.*
2 hours ago • Delete
Nom’s Little Sister
annoying.
about an hour ago • Delete
-Fin