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Author Topic: Big Guys be stealing my bucket!  (Read 2359 times)
frankenmint
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October 17, 2013, 12:13:28 AM
 #1

If you have gotten this far then you haven't learned your lesson about this forum yet.

NO NO sir. Ah be baaad......I would rada' imagine it wo'ks likes dis, dig dis: You's are on de fo'um eyeballin' de custom hw fo' [ann] all de time. What it is, Mama!..ya''ve mined btc and ya' hve it in yo' wallet.dat's pocket plum dyin' t'be spent. You's dink OOOOH I"ll double waaay down and put all yo' hard mined coins towards some preo'der. Ah be baaad... Sheeit, whut if, fo' de sake uh de argument, some big-ass guy, likes Ghash.io, comes around, and says t'mbp.com, "hey", "I gots some check fo' 60K", "and I"ll drown in some commission bonus", if ya' assemble, and maintain, our large minin' array, we'll give ya' some 5 incentive bonus. Right On! .

Its day 1 and dis gots'ta happened. Now, ya' bought 1 miner, but dey bought sump'n along de lines uh 480 Ish full kits and dere are 1000 kits o'dered in total fo' dat puh'iod in time. What it is, Mama! Ok now imagine ya''re bitfury and ya' gots' some commitment uh 1000 kits fo' dis mond. Do ya': a) snatch betta' care uh yo' higha' payin' customers? b) ship out da damn greatest numba' of o'ders fust? c) ship out da damn greatest numba' of bo'ds fust? If ya' answered B, dat would be da damn utilitarian wahtahmellun t'do, but at da damn same time, ya' would also be burnin' yo' largest customa' (de entity dat gots'ta de greatest impact on yo' current and potentially future bottom line).

My point is....if ya''re bitchin' about da damn big-ass guys, ya''re doin' so's from de wrong viewpoint. If ah' were Dave, Sam, Yifu, Punin, o' John, ah' would be actin' as any oda' business would - wid de intenshun uh retainin' some bottom line dat be in de brother . Respect and dig it dat dis wuzn't sump'n meant t'simply play out as it duz fo'eva' and ever. Ah be baaad... If ya' could easily gain de same amount uh bitcoins puh'petually, den de same circumstance uh fiat happens in dat tons uh sucka's gots' some lot uh coins and da damn coin sdownply itself pushes de prices t'de ground. Danks fo' eyeballin' ya trolls....if ya''re not some troll, so'ry ah' wuzted yo' time here. What it is, Mama! (Aldough ya' should gots' stopped eyeballin' afta' de wo'd potent)

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October 17, 2013, 12:42:37 AM
 #2

What the fuck is that.

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October 17, 2013, 12:44:00 AM
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hi

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October 17, 2013, 12:47:16 AM
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nnnoooooiiiiiccceeee I was wondering for a half second how that became all distorted and such.  Hermmm I wonder who did it?  My suspicions hypothesize a Gmaxxwell was behind the edits at hand there.


Real shame I thought it was very pertient and now a bunch of the troll natives will no longer use this as fodder to 'rabblerabblerabble!'  Oh well  Grin

Im not gonna wast more time here but basically I said that you can't bitch about big industrial miners as they are simply customers too...its really dumb to do so.

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October 17, 2013, 01:13:53 AM
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October 17, 2013, 01:18:30 AM
 #6

If you have gotten this far then you haven't learned your lesson about this forum yet.

NO NO sir. Ah be baaad......I would rada' imagine it wo'ks likes dis, dig dis: You's are on de fo'um eyeballin' de custom hw fo' [ann] all de time. What it is, Mama!..ya''ve mined btc and ya' hve it in yo' wallet.dat's pocket plum dyin' t'be spent. You's dink OOOOH I"ll double waaay down and put all yo' hard mined coins towards some preo'der. Ah be baaad... Sheeit, whut if, fo' de sake uh de argument, some big-ass guy, likes Ghash.io, comes around, and says t'mbp.com, "hey", "I gots some check fo' 60K", "and I"ll drown in some commission bonus", if ya' assemble, and maintain, our large minin' array, we'll give ya' some 5 incentive bonus. Right On! .

Its day 1 and dis gots'ta happened. Now, ya' bought 1 miner, but dey bought sump'n along de lines uh 480 Ish full kits and dere are 1000 kits o'dered in total fo' dat puh'iod in time. What it is, Mama! Ok now imagine ya''re bitfury and ya' gots' some commitment uh 1000 kits fo' dis mond. Do ya': a) snatch betta' care uh yo' higha' payin' customers? b) ship out da damn greatest numba' of o'ders fust? c) ship out da damn greatest numba' of bo'ds fust? If ya' answered B, dat would be da damn utilitarian wahtahmellun t'do, but at da damn same time, ya' would also be burnin' yo' largest customa' (de entity dat gots'ta de greatest impact on yo' current and potentially future bottom line).

My point is....if ya''re bitchin' about da damn big-ass guys, ya''re doin' so's from de wrong viewpoint. If ah' were Dave, Sam, Yifu, Punin, o' John, ah' would be actin' as any oda' business would - wid de intenshun uh retainin' some bottom line dat be in de brother . Respect and dig it dat dis wuzn't sump'n meant t'simply play out as it duz fo'eva' and ever. Ah be baaad... If ya' could easily gain de same amount uh bitcoins puh'petually, den de same circumstance uh fiat happens in dat tons uh sucka's gots' some lot uh coins and da damn coin sdownply itself pushes de prices t'de ground. Danks fo' eyeballin' ya trolls....if ya''re not some troll, so'ry ah' wuzted yo' time here. What it is, Mama! (Aldough ya' should gots' stopped eyeballin' afta' de wo'd potent)

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So with the SR closed where did you get your inspiration for "writing" this?

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October 17, 2013, 01:21:07 AM
 #7

Thats the funny thing....I didnt write it like this...Mine was very clear and literally within minutes a moderator muffed it up royally so now the lesser intelligent folks are like wtf crack was he smokin on?Huh?

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October 17, 2013, 01:23:27 AM
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Thats the funny thing....I didnt write it like this...Mine was very clear and literally within minutes a moderator muffed it up royally so now the lesser intelligent folks are like wtf crack was he smokin on?Huh?

Holy cow! Serious? Sounds like a bored mod.

Does anyone speak jive on this plane?

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October 17, 2013, 01:43:38 AM
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nnnoooooiiiiiccceeee I was wondering for a half second how that became all distorted and such.  Hermmm I wonder who did it?  My suspicions hypothesize a Gmaxxwell was behind the edits at hand there.
  Cheesy

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October 17, 2013, 01:43:52 AM
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Ummm you are the same Frankenmint who sent me a PM to tell me I was missing a " in my sig.


Your sanity is in question with me.

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October 17, 2013, 01:49:46 AM
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Zora Neale Hurston?
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October 17, 2013, 01:52:39 AM
 #12

Ummm you are the same Frankenmint who sent me a PM to tell me I was missing a " in my sig.


Your sanity is in question with me.
It's missing a period, too. -And a cold-ass lil comma.

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October 17, 2013, 01:54:48 AM
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Ummm you are the same Frankenmint who sent me a PM to tell me I was missing a " in my sig.


Your sanity is in question with me.
It's missing a period, too. -And a cold-ass lil comma.

It's a lot more punctuation than that ...
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October 17, 2013, 02:04:07 AM
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Mod note: Message has been jived for your amusement.

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October 17, 2013, 05:27:25 AM
 #15

I worked in a photo lab when I was in college. This was back before digital cameras were in wide use. People would take photos at college parties and drop them off for one hour development.

Most of the photos were pretty boring. A group of guys or girls posing, obviously drunk. Beer cans, Solo cups. A couple bongs. And the occasional topless girl or someone puking. Nothing too unexpected.

But there was one guy that came in on a regular basis. His photos were always hardcore pornography. Spread eagle shots, blowjobs, facials. Gaping vaginas and assholes. I fucking loved printing this guy's stuff and put extra effort into getting the color balance and exposure just right. It got so that he'd ask for me every time he dropped film off.

He started showing up to the shop with a girl on his arm. The same one every time. He called her Amber, though I suspect that wasn't her real name. Let's just say that I already knew Amber more intimately than did her gynecologist. Nearly all the photos coming in at this point from this guy were of Amber.

As time went on, the photos got more and more extreme. At first, it was just her getting fucked or spreading her ass open. Pretty soon, a dick shoved down her throat and tears streaming down her face, her heavily-applied mascara smeared in an almost comical fashion. I printed one of these for my own pleasure and added the caption "Harlequin."

Pretty soon, it appeared, my favorite customer got involved in hardcore BDSM. Photos of Amber tied to the floor, helpless. Butt plugs that appeared to increase in size every time he came in. Clothespins on her nipples, down the backs of her arms. She still had bruising from these when I saw her once. She saw me admiring her love marks and gave me an almost demure wink.

Fisting. Double fisting. Gapes so large it looked like she just shit a watermelon. And then started the erotic knife play. Photos of Amber with a knife to her throat, red marks on her skin, then small cuts. Tears still streaming down her face. And every time I'd admire a scar when I saw her in person, she'd smile at me and whisper knowingly to my favorite photographer.

I graduated before I got to see where all this was going. Every time this couple would come in, I'd find myself furiously masturbating in the back room of the photo lab. She ruined me for other women. Sweet, innocent college girls would show me their tits or go down on me. But it was never quite enough. I dreamed of the horrible things I could do to a girl. I dreamed of my own Amber.

To this day, I don't think I'll ever be satisfied that I've found The One until I can reach inside her through her anus and feel her intestines moving her waste rhythmically, romantically, through her body. I don't think I can be happy until I can crawl inside her digestive system and hide from the world.

But isn't that ultimately what we all want? To find someone that we care about so dearly that the rest of the world doesn't matter?

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October 17, 2013, 05:45:46 AM
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I worked in a photo lab when I was in college. This was back before digital cameras were in wide use. People would take photos at college parties and drop them off for one hour development.

Most of the photos were pretty boring. A group of guys or girls posing, obviously drunk. Beer cans, Solo cups. A couple bongs. And the occasional topless girl or someone puking. Nothing too unexpected.

But there was one guy that came in on a regular basis. His photos were always hardcore pornography. Spread eagle shots, blowjobs, facials. Gaping vaginas and assholes. I fucking loved printing this guy's stuff and put extra effort into getting the color balance and exposure just right. It got so that he'd ask for me every time he dropped film off.

He started showing up to the shop with a girl on his arm. The same one every time. He called her Amber, though I suspect that wasn't her real name. Let's just say that I already knew Amber more intimately than did her gynecologist. Nearly all the photos coming in at this point from this guy were of Amber.

As time went on, the photos got more and more extreme. At first, it was just her getting fucked or spreading her ass open. Pretty soon, a dick shoved down her throat and tears streaming down her face, her heavily-applied mascara smeared in an almost comical fashion. I printed one of these for my own pleasure and added the caption "Harlequin."

Pretty soon, it appeared, my favorite customer got involved in hardcore BDSM. Photos of Amber tied to the floor, helpless. Butt plugs that appeared to increase in size every time he came in. Clothespins on her nipples, down the backs of her arms. She still had bruising from these when I saw her once. She saw me admiring her love marks and gave me an almost demure wink.

Fisting. Double fisting. Gapes so large it looked like she just shit a watermelon. And then started the erotic knife play. Photos of Amber with a knife to her throat, red marks on her skin, then small cuts. Tears still streaming down her face. And every time I'd admire a scar when I saw her in person, she'd smile at me and whisper knowingly to my favorite photographer.

I graduated before I got to see where all this was going. Every time this couple would come in, I'd find myself furiously masturbating in the back room of the photo lab. She ruined me for other women. Sweet, innocent college girls would show me their tits or go down on me. But it was never quite enough. I dreamed of the horrible things I could do to a girl. I dreamed of my own Amber.

To this day, I don't think I'll ever be satisfied that I've found The One until I can reach inside her through her anus and feel her intestines moving her waste rhythmically, romantically, through her body. I don't think I can be happy until I can crawl inside her digestive system and hide from the world.

But isn't that ultimately what we all want? To find someone that we care about so dearly that the rest of the world doesn't matter?


OMG hahahahah  That's some funny shit dude

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October 17, 2013, 06:22:08 AM
 #17

Wau this is great....by the way guys...I originally started it by saying


"If you're still reading this:  My troll bait is Potent!"


I am in guffaws that I caught such a troll so early on  Grin


Yes Joe I sent that because I liked your quote and thought the missing end quote took away from the epic-ness of it.  When you questioned why on earth I wasted the effort to pm you this...I figured at that point it was a lost cause to explain it as I would be wasting effort on a trivial grammar oversight.

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October 17, 2013, 06:22:34 AM
 #18

I worked in a photo lab when I was in college. This was back before digital cameras were in wide use. People would take photos at college parties and drop them off for one hour development.

Most of the photos were pretty boring. A group of guys or girls posing, obviously drunk. Beer cans, Solo cups. A couple bongs. And the occasional topless girl or someone puking. Nothing too unexpected.

But there was one guy that came in on a regular basis. His photos were always hardcore pornography. Spread eagle shots, blowjobs, facials. Gaping vaginas and assholes. I fucking loved printing this guy's stuff and put extra effort into getting the color balance and exposure just right. It got so that he'd ask for me every time he dropped film off.

He started showing up to the shop with a girl on his arm. The same one every time. He called her Amber, though I suspect that wasn't her real name. Let's just say that I already knew Amber more intimately than did her gynecologist. Nearly all the photos coming in at this point from this guy were of Amber.

As time went on, the photos got more and more extreme. At first, it was just her getting fucked or spreading her ass open. Pretty soon, a dick shoved down her throat and tears streaming down her face, her heavily-applied mascara smeared in an almost comical fashion. I printed one of these for my own pleasure and added the caption "Harlequin."

Pretty soon, it appeared, my favorite customer got involved in hardcore BDSM. Photos of Amber tied to the floor, helpless. Butt plugs that appeared to increase in size every time he came in. Clothespins on her nipples, down the backs of her arms. She still had bruising from these when I saw her once. She saw me admiring her love marks and gave me an almost demure wink.

Fisting. Double fisting. Gapes so large it looked like she just shit a watermelon. And then started the erotic knife play. Photos of Amber with a knife to her throat, red marks on her skin, then small cuts. Tears still streaming down her face. And every time I'd admire a scar when I saw her in person, she'd smile at me and whisper knowingly to my favorite photographer.

I graduated before I got to see where all this was going. Every time this couple would come in, I'd find myself furiously masturbating in the back room of the photo lab. She ruined me for other women. Sweet, innocent college girls would show me their tits or go down on me. But it was never quite enough. I dreamed of the horrible things I could do to a girl. I dreamed of my own Amber.

To this day, I don't think I'll ever be satisfied that I've found The One until I can reach inside her through her anus and feel her intestines moving her waste rhythmically, romantically, through her body. I don't think I can be happy until I can crawl inside her digestive system and hide from the world.

But isn't that ultimately what we all want? To find someone that we care about so dearly that the rest of the world doesn't matter?

Nice, but I think I read this on the forum sometime back as well. Is it a repost Wink

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October 17, 2013, 07:14:40 AM
 #19

Wink
8======(())=====D

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October 17, 2013, 08:25:31 AM
 #20

I worked in a photo lab when I was in college. This was back before digital cameras were in wide use. People would take photos at college parties and drop them off for one hour development.

Most of the photos were pretty boring. A group of guys or girls posing, obviously drunk. Beer cans, Solo cups. A couple bongs. And the occasional topless girl or someone puking. Nothing too unexpected.

But there was one guy that came in on a regular basis. His photos were always hardcore pornography. Spread eagle shots, blowjobs, facials. Gaping vaginas and assholes. I fucking loved printing this guy's stuff and put extra effort into getting the color balance and exposure just right. It got so that he'd ask for me every time he dropped film off.

He started showing up to the shop with a girl on his arm. The same one every time. He called her Amber, though I suspect that wasn't her real name. Let's just say that I already knew Amber more intimately than did her gynecologist. Nearly all the photos coming in at this point from this guy were of Amber.

As time went on, the photos got more and more extreme. At first, it was just her getting fucked or spreading her ass open. Pretty soon, a dick shoved down her throat and tears streaming down her face, her heavily-applied mascara smeared in an almost comical fashion. I printed one of these for my own pleasure and added the caption "Harlequin."

Pretty soon, it appeared, my favorite customer got involved in hardcore BDSM. Photos of Amber tied to the floor, helpless. Butt plugs that appeared to increase in size every time he came in. Clothespins on her nipples, down the backs of her arms. She still had bruising from these when I saw her once. She saw me admiring her love marks and gave me an almost demure wink.

Fisting. Double fisting. Gapes so large it looked like she just shit a watermelon. And then started the erotic knife play. Photos of Amber with a knife to her throat, red marks on her skin, then small cuts. Tears still streaming down her face. And every time I'd admire a scar when I saw her in person, she'd smile at me and whisper knowingly to my favorite photographer.

I graduated before I got to see where all this was going. Every time this couple would come in, I'd find myself furiously masturbating in the back room of the photo lab. She ruined me for other women. Sweet, innocent college girls would show me their tits or go down on me. But it was never quite enough. I dreamed of the horrible things I could do to a girl. I dreamed of my own Amber.

To this day, I don't think I'll ever be satisfied that I've found The One until I can reach inside her through her anus and feel her intestines moving her waste rhythmically, romantically, through her body. I don't think I can be happy until I can crawl inside her digestive system and hide from the world.

But isn't that ultimately what we all want? To find someone that we care about so dearly that the rest of the world doesn't matter?

holly shit hahahahahaha man you are kind of a freak, and the funnier thing is that you admit this on public... I guess this was just a joke I didn't get hahahahah
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