Ragaaaaaasa io mi voglio scopare quello che ha scritto questo papiro non scherzo non è una battutaaaa
SHITPOSTING
Ragaaaaaasa io mi voglio scopare quello che ha scritto questo papiro non scherzo non è una battutaaaa
Ma chi non ti vuoi scopare te
Si, vale per tutti gli admin della chat
Si, vale per tutti gli admin della chat
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SHITPOSTING
Sto cagando in ufficio mentre guardo jjk
Sono già al secondo episodio
Clarkson: “The Thassa’s Oracle—brilliant! Absolute genius. Two mana, instant win, and it doesn’t even break a sweat. It’s like turning up to a drag race in a fighter jet.”
May: “Yes, but that’s precisely the problem. It’s dreadfully dull. No tension, no spectacle—just… arithmetic and disappointment. It’s not a victory, it’s a clerical error.”
Clarkson: “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, it’s efficient!”
May: “So is a spreadsheet, Jeremy. I don’t watch those for entertainment.”
Clarkson: “Efficient? It’s glorious. You sit there, smiling, everyone else panicking—it’s like announcing you’ve already won before the race has even started.”
May: “Which, again, is exactly why it’s so insufferable. There’s no drama. No heroic comeback. Just you, counting cards like an accountant at closing time.”
Clarkson: “Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer I win slowly? Perhaps file a formal request, wait three to five business days, and then attack for two damage?”
May: “At least that would involve playing the game. This—this is more like exploiting a loophole in the rules while everyone else is trying to have fun.”
Clarkson: “Fun? Winning is fun.”
May: “Not when it feels like you’ve unplugged the television halfway through the programme.”
Hammond: “I quite like it actually—it’s like hiding a tiny, smug octopus in your deck that just pops out and goes ‘right, that’s enough of that’ and ends the game.”
Clarkson: “Exactly! Thank you!”
May: “Richard, that’s not a defense, that’s an admission of guilt.”
Hammond: “Well yeah, but it’s a very cute octopus.”
May: “Yes, but that’s precisely the problem. It’s dreadfully dull. No tension, no spectacle—just… arithmetic and disappointment. It’s not a victory, it’s a clerical error.”
Clarkson: “Oh, don’t be ridiculous, it’s efficient!”
May: “So is a spreadsheet, Jeremy. I don’t watch those for entertainment.”
Clarkson: “Efficient? It’s glorious. You sit there, smiling, everyone else panicking—it’s like announcing you’ve already won before the race has even started.”
May: “Which, again, is exactly why it’s so insufferable. There’s no drama. No heroic comeback. Just you, counting cards like an accountant at closing time.”
Clarkson: “Oh, I’m sorry, would you prefer I win slowly? Perhaps file a formal request, wait three to five business days, and then attack for two damage?”
May: “At least that would involve playing the game. This—this is more like exploiting a loophole in the rules while everyone else is trying to have fun.”
Clarkson: “Fun? Winning is fun.”
May: “Not when it feels like you’ve unplugged the television halfway through the programme.”
Hammond: “I quite like it actually—it’s like hiding a tiny, smug octopus in your deck that just pops out and goes ‘right, that’s enough of that’ and ends the game.”
Clarkson: “Exactly! Thank you!”
May: “Richard, that’s not a defense, that’s an admission of guilt.”
Hammond: “Well yeah, but it’s a very cute octopus.”
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