O Overlords, I beseech thee: Lock This Mod Forsaken Thread!
I have not the Virility to cast it aside with mine own hand. My frail heart withers, like fruit off the vine, with every passing, Silent Bob Grindless day. My humble poster’s frock is stained with tears. Alas, We are marooned! We causeth Mud!
Capt. Mark Ahab: The Grind is not yours to harvest! He glides, the demon, knotted and blubbered, under the roiling, wrathful Visage of Poseidon. Hark: he mocketh thee! His wicked whale-moan—can’st though hear it, My Lord? That blackest bassoon of the briney depths? Save your salt and your sea legs, my Captain. Gather thy mirrors and thy bon mots. We mean not to slight thee, My Captain. We will watch the video part of the Young Lord Brandon Nguyen—and without the slightest complaint, and with Shaloms abounding! Adidas willing, there'll be another voyage!