Author Topic: Meme Machine Memorial Thread of Things You Saw on Reddit  (Read 1780622 times)

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WrikaWrek

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[youtube=560,345]jSM90s0xWk4[/youtube]


Madrun Badrun

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wow

http://www.break.com/index/fat-guy-lake-cannonball-fail.html

 :lol :lol :lol  he looks like a walrus when he first pops out of the ice

Brehvolution

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©ZH

GilloD

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http://vimeo.com/10449855

Better than your crappy BREAK videos.
wha

Diunx

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Now they are doing mega official threads for movies and tv shows on gaf, smh.
Drunk

magus

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[youtube=560,345][/youtube]
[youtube=560,345][/youtube]
<----

Stoney Mason

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[youtube=560,345]#![/youtube]
[youtube=560,345][/youtube]

Himu

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Natel looks distinguished mentally-challenged but thanks for this :lol
IYKYK

WrikaWrek

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Drunk Monkeys.

That's a wrap on us.

Madrun Badrun

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best thing ever

Robo

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http://www.nbcchicago.com/news/local-beat/Man-Threw-Condoms-Filled-With-Vomit-at-Security-Officer-Cops-95723744.html

I love how NBC decided to head this article with a totally unrelated image of a man barfing into his hand.

Warning: it's pretty gross.
obo

Himu

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IYKYK

WrikaWrek

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Van Cruncheon

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duc

WrikaWrek

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You should see him playin the guitar and smoking. Dude makes all those John Morrisons and John Mayers look like bitches

[youtube=560,345]ZwR857vF_XM[/youtube]

WrikaWrek

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I don't care, but thanks for the warning.

Himu

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holy shit
IYKYK

brob

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etiolate

  • Senior Member
for Boogie


Himu

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IYKYK

Arbys Roast Beef Sandwich

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the fuck :lol

I mean, seriously... press conferences can be "spoiled?" WTF
うぐう

Madrun Badrun

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brob

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Akala

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isn't spoiling press conferences kind of the point of gaf? at least it used to be.

"i'll be ready for information when reggie says i'm ready for information."

Stoney Mason

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http://www.neogaf.com/forum/showthread.php?t=397489

you gotta be kidding me

The stupidest premise for a thread I've ever seen. For them E3 is like a movie or a sporting event.

 ::)

Dickie Dee

  • It's not the band I hate, it's their fans.
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___

brob

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Certain people seem to treat the games industry as WWE, giving companies personalities and jamming business men into character archetypes in their weird little narrative.

Triple H is the CEO of EA.  :spin

pilonv1

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Good thing there wont be spoilers all over the forum or anything
itm

Stoney Mason

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Quote
U.S.: Yemen arrests 12 Americans

Suck it news lovers. I just spoiled your news for the evening!

 :miyamoto

archie4208

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Good thing there wont be spoilers all over the forum or anything

spoiler (click to show/hide)
Nintendo is announcing a new Mario game :shh
[close]

Himu

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NINTENDO IS MAKING A NEW MARIO GAME? WELL YOU'VE GONE AND SPOILED IT FOR ME
IYKYK

chronovore

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I like how last year I was posting about how much gary whitta sucks and is a idiot and a marketing ploy, and you guys jumped on me for being a "idiot" yet now all you guys are stealing from the black man again and using my same points.

I bet in 6 months you'll all hate Chris "Racist" Kohler also.
You're black? The only visual qualities which exist for me on The Bore are "shiny" and "dull." Want to guess where you fit on that spectrum?

BlackMage

  • The Panty-Peeler
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I like how last year I was posting about how much gary whitta sucks and is a idiot and a marketing ploy, and you guys jumped on me for being a "idiot" yet now all you guys are stealing from the black man again and using my same points.

I bet in 6 months you'll all hate Chris "Racist" Kohler also.
You're black? The only visual qualities which exist for me on The Bore are "shiny" and "dull." Want to guess where you fit on that spectrum?

SUPER SHINY?!  ??? :-[
UNF

Madrun Badrun

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NINTENDO IS MAKING A NEW MARIO GAME? WELL YOU'VE GONE AND SPOILED IT FOR ME

Spoiler tags asshole!

BlackMage

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NINTENDO IS MAKING A NEW MARIO GAME? WELL YOU'VE GONE AND SPOILED IT FOR ME

Spoiler tags asshole!

hey asshole don't quote spoilers!!!!
UNF

WrikaWrek

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NINTENDO IS MAKING A NEW MARIO GAME? WELL YOU'VE GONE AND SPOILED IT FOR ME

Spoiler tags asshole!

hey asshole don't quote spoilers!!!!


AdmiralViscen

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Good thing there wont be spoilers all over the forum or anything

The thread's super specific instructions include bookmarking it and then going directly to it as soon as you get home so you don't see anything else on the forum. Amazing

lennedsay

  • Senior MILF
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NINTENDO IS MAKING A NEW MARIO GAME? WELL YOU'VE GONE AND SPOILED IT FOR ME

Spoiler tags asshole!

hey asshole don't quote spoilers!!!!

(Image removed from quote.)

Mollie picks James over Albert, even though Albert is Mikey's real father. :teehee
(|)

Himu

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HE PEE PEE'D IN DA POTTAY
IYKYK

WrikaWrek

  • Let your soul glow
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NINTENDO IS MAKING A NEW MARIO GAME? WELL YOU'VE GONE AND SPOILED IT FOR ME

Spoiler tags asshole!

hey asshole don't quote spoilers!!!!

(Image removed from quote.)

Mollie picks James over Albert, even though Albert is Mikey's real father. :teehee

lennedsay

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(|)

Madrun Badrun

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etiolate

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they have a videogames live concert on pbs

wow

tommy tallarrico is an even bigger douchebag on stage

cool breeze

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that spoiler E3 thread reminds me the first Seinfeld episode

TEEEPO

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[youtube=560,345]imd-AF6lIO0[/youtube]

Raban

  • The baby...
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Hey guys I wrote this, berate me!
Quote
The Life Between Two Wheels

   He loved to ride his motorcycle. Every aspect that combined to form the final act was praiseworthy to him. The burning fire between two wheels. Handlebars set in front could be the reigns to the furious beast he dared to tame. The act of riding itself was a barrage of sound and fury. In front of him the road would melt, and behind him an implosion of vision. The vibrations grabbing every nerve and shaking for dear life in a sarcastically simian manner. His hands not tied or glued to his unholy reigns, but focused and comfortably gripped across the clutch and the brake. His feet were planted under him, for he never cared for low-seated bikes and he gently guided his shift like a composer with his wand.

   His face was always flushed. Red and compacted in his helmet, he would sometimes ponder riding without one, but the idea of his head being safe, even in the extreme climate that one finds oneself on the saddle of a motorcycle, lent confidence and security not worth sacrificing for the freedom found in wind coursing through his hair like a thousand hands. He knew many roads, simply a means to an end for cagers, the term for four-wheeled drivers, for a motorcyclist the roads were waves to be carved, strokes to be brushed, notes to be played. He swung the bike with immeasurable power, sliding through the turns with the grace of a dancer.

   He never liked describing his hobby as riding. He called it bonding. The relationship between man and bike was something he likened to the relationship between man and steed. Atop the beast, you could only suggest the direction your companion should make. He felt he and his fellow riders were the modern cowboys. Risking life and limb for what boiled down to an adrenaline rush. But he found that was all he had to live for. Straddling the thin line between excitement and death like he did the bike itself brought him all the joy in the world.
SRY

GilloD

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You need to edit that thing big time. I'll help out later, I have a class to teach now. Ugh.
wha

Raban

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I just kind of crapped out some prose to see where my writing ability had gone. What kind of editing? Like grammatically?
SRY

Skidmark

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Hey guys I wrote this, berate me!
Quote
The Life Between Two Wheels

   He loved to ride his motorcycle. Every aspect that combined to form the final act was praiseworthy to him. The burning fire between two wheels. Handlebars set in front could be the reigns to the furious beast he dared to tame. The act of riding itself was a barrage of sound and fury. In front of him the road would melt, and behind him an implosion of vision. The vibrations grabbing every nerve and shaking for dear life in a sarcastically simian manner. His hands not tied or glued to his unholy reigns, but focused and comfortably gripped across the clutch and the brake. His feet were planted under him, for he never cared for low-seated bikes and he gently guided his shift like a composer with his wand.

   His face was always flushed. Red and compacted in his helmet, he would sometimes ponder riding without one, but the idea of his head being safe, even in the extreme climate that one finds oneself on the saddle of a motorcycle, lent confidence and security not worth sacrificing for the freedom found in wind coursing through his hair like a thousand hands. He knew many roads, simply a means to an end for cagers, the term for four-wheeled drivers, for a motorcyclist the roads were waves to be carved, strokes to be brushed, notes to be played. He swung the bike with immeasurable power, sliding through the turns with the grace of a dancer.

   He never liked describing his hobby as riding. He called it bonding. The relationship between man and bike was something he likened to the relationship between man and steed. Atop the beast, you could only suggest the direction your companion should make. He felt he and his fellow riders were the modern cowboys. Risking life and limb for what boiled down to an adrenaline rush. But he found that was all he had to live for. Straddling the thin line between excitement and death like he did the bike itself brought him all the joy in the world.

Man, I can't write anything close to this in all of the three languages that I speak. I am really jealous of you. I swear, if I was able to write like you do, I would write at least a page everyday.
How much time did it take you to write this? Do you read a lot of literature on your own or is this considered average for students where you live?

treythemovie

  • Member
Good thing there wont be spoilers all over the forum or anything

The thread's super specific instructions include bookmarking it and then going directly to it as soon as you get home so you don't see anything else on the forum. Amazing
Note to self: Post in spoiler-free thread and then later change my avatar into the most "spoilerific" thing I can find.

Van Cruncheon

  • live mas or die trying
  • Banned
Hey guys I wrote this, berate me!
Quote
The Life Between Two Wheels

   He loved to ride his motorcycle. Every aspect that combined to form the final act was praiseworthy to him. The burning fire between two wheels. Handlebars set in front could be the reigns to the furious beast he dared to tame. The act of riding itself was a barrage of sound and fury. In front of him the road would melt, and behind him an implosion of vision. The vibrations grabbing every nerve and shaking for dear life in a sarcastically simian manner. His hands not tied or glued to his unholy reigns, but focused and comfortably gripped across the clutch and the brake. His feet were planted under him, for he never cared for low-seated bikes and he gently guided his shift like a composer with his wand.

   His face was always flushed. Red and compacted in his helmet, he would sometimes ponder riding without one, but the idea of his head being safe, even in the extreme climate that one finds oneself on the saddle of a motorcycle, lent confidence and security not worth sacrificing for the freedom found in wind coursing through his hair like a thousand hands. He knew many roads, simply a means to an end for cagers, the term for four-wheeled drivers, for a motorcyclist the roads were waves to be carved, strokes to be brushed, notes to be played. He swung the bike with immeasurable power, sliding through the turns with the grace of a dancer.

   He never liked describing his hobby as riding. He called it bonding. The relationship between man and bike was something he likened to the relationship between man and steed. Atop the beast, you could only suggest the direction your companion should make. He felt he and his fellow riders were the modern cowboys. Risking life and limb for what boiled down to an adrenaline rush. But he found that was all he had to live for. Straddling the thin line between excitement and death like he did the bike itself brought him all the joy in the world.

there's like an entire cocktail bar's worth of mixed metaphors in just the first paragraph
duc

Raban

  • The baby...
  • Senior Member
Man, I can't write anything close to this in all of the three languages that I speak. I am really jealous of you. I swear, if I was able to write like you do, I would write at least a page everyday.
How much time did it take you to write this? Do you read a lot of literature on your own or is this considered average for students where you live?

I wrote it in maybe 25 minutes, proofread it twice. I was educated in California, so you can figure out what's average for here or not. I haven't really stretched my writing hand in a long time, so I'm going to start warming up every day or so. I've had the outline for a young adult fiction written up for a long time and I want to at least get a draft out.

there's like an entire cocktail bar's worth of mixed metaphors in just the first paragraph

I didn't realize until you pointed out how excessive those are. I don't know, I just like to describe things with relation rather than literal terms. It brings more emotion to lifeless things, I suppose?
SRY

Madrun Badrun

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Hey guys I wrote this, berate me!
Quote
The Life Between Two Wheels

   He loved to ride his motorcycle. Every aspect that combined to form the final act was praiseworthy to him. The burning fire between two wheels. Handlebars set in front could be the reigns to the furious beast he dared to tame. The act of riding itself was a barrage of sound and fury. In front of him the road would melt, and behind him an implosion of vision. The vibrations grabbing every nerve and shaking for dear life in a sarcastically simian manner. His hands not tied or glued to his unholy reigns, but focused and comfortably gripped across the clutch and the brake. His feet were planted under him, for he never cared for low-seated bikes and he gently guided his shift like a composer with his wand.

   His face was always flushed. Red and compacted in his helmet, he would sometimes ponder riding without one, but the idea of his head being safe, even in the extreme climate that one finds oneself on the saddle of a motorcycle, lent confidence and security not worth sacrificing for the freedom found in wind coursing through his hair like a thousand hands. He knew many roads, simply a means to an end for cagers, the term for four-wheeled drivers, for a motorcyclist the roads were waves to be carved, strokes to be brushed, notes to be played. He swung the bike with immeasurable power, sliding through the turns with the grace of a dancer.

   He never liked describing his hobby as riding. He called it bonding. The relationship between man and bike was something he likened to the relationship between man and steed. Atop the beast, you could only suggest the direction your companion should make. He felt he and his fellow riders were the modern cowboys. Risking life and limb for what boiled down to an adrenaline rush. But he found that was all he had to live for. Straddling the thin line between excitement and death like he did the bike itself brought him all the joy in the world.

there's like an entire cocktail bar's worth of mixed metaphors in just the first paragraph

Indeed.  Is he riding a motorcycle that doubles as some kind of flaming mechanical horse with a trumpet for an asshole that makes loud tooting sounds and deep vibrations as it goes?

Raban

  • The baby...
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When was the last time you were outside long enough to see and hear a real motorcycle, Arvie?
SRY

T-Short

  • hooker strangler
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Where you wrote "composer", I think you meant "conductor".
地平線

Raban

  • The baby...
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Where you wrote "composer", I think you meant "conductor".

Yes I did mean that. I'm not going to edit the post, but thanks for the pointer.
SRY

etiolate

  • Senior Member
Hey guys I wrote this, berate me!
Quote
The Life Between Two Wheels

   He loved to ride his motorcycle. Every aspect that combined to form the final act was praiseworthy to him. The burning fire between two wheels. Handlebars set in front could be the reigns to the furious beast he dared to tame. The act of riding itself was a barrage of sound and fury. In front of him the road would melt, and behind him an implosion of vision. The vibrations grabbing every nerve and shaking for dear life in a sarcastically simian manner. His hands not tied or glued to his unholy reigns, but focused and comfortably gripped across the clutch and the brake. His feet were planted under him, for he never cared for low-seated bikes and he gently guided his shift like a composer with his wand.

   His face was always flushed. Red and compacted in his helmet, he would sometimes ponder riding without one, but the idea of his head being safe, even in the extreme climate that one finds oneself on the saddle of a motorcycle, lent confidence and security not worth sacrificing for the freedom found in wind coursing through his hair like a thousand hands. He knew many roads, simply a means to an end for cagers, the term for four-wheeled drivers, for a motorcyclist the roads were waves to be carved, strokes to be brushed, notes to be played. He swung the bike with immeasurable power, sliding through the turns with the grace of a dancer.

   He never liked describing his hobby as riding. He called it bonding. The relationship between man and bike was something he likened to the relationship between man and steed. Atop the beast, you could only suggest the direction your companion should make. He felt he and his fellow riders were the modern cowboys. Risking life and limb for what boiled down to an adrenaline rush. But he found that was all he had to live for. Straddling the thin line between excitement and death like he did the bike itself brought him all the joy in the world.

there's like an entire cocktail bar's worth of mixed metaphors in just the first paragraph

Indeed.  Is he riding a motorcycle that doubles as some kind of flaming mechanical horse with a trumpet for an asshole that makes loud tooting sounds and deep vibrations as it goes?

You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora's fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also.

http://loveletters.tribe.net/thread/fce72385-b146-4bf2-9d2e-0dfa6ac7142d

The Sceneman

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http://www.neogaf.com/forum/showpost.php?p=21651956&postcount=2002

Rpg elitists make me ashamed to enjoy rpgs.

hes making a fair point, though? Especially if you take the post to include all games, not just RPGs. Most reviewers are fucking noobs is what I got out of his statement, which I agree with. I guess Im an elitist gamer  :-\

Well, as a counterpoint, I think reviews are meant for the mainstream audience.  They are meant to be accurate to the widest amount of people, which is your average gamer.  If a game is only good if you are an expert gamer who is good enough to "get it", than a review that says the game is good is misleading since 90% of the people who read that review and go buy the game will not find it good. 

But the reason that post bugs me is just the elitist view that you have to earn your right to be good enough to review a game, which is fucking balls.  That's why there are multiple reviews for any product.  Look at Rotten Tomatoes.  Maybe some of the reviews don't have enough knowledge of a subject to review a movie about it, but that's why there's dozens of other reviews to counter it. 

But that wouldnt be the fault of the game or the reviewer? The problem is diaper babies that cry because they think Bayonetta sucks because they cant play games for shit. Yes Im an elitist, but Im sick of seeing awesome games pissed on becuase they arent fucking mainstream. I dont care if a review is supposed to cater for joe average Call of Duty player, if the reviewer lacks the necessary skill to enjoy a game to its fullest extent, they are not fit to review the product, end of story.
« Last Edit: June 08, 2010, 05:34:58 AM by The Sceneman »
#1

OptimoPeach

  • Senior Member
http://www.neogaf.com/forum/showpost.php?p=21651956&postcount=2002

Rpg elitists make me ashamed to enjoy rpgs.

hes making a fair point, though? Especially if you take the post to include all games, not just RPGs. Most reviewers are fucking noobs is what I got out of his statement, which I agree with. I guess Im an elitist gamer  :-\

Well, as a counterpoint, I think reviews are meant for the mainstream audience.  They are meant to be accurate to the widest amount of people, which is your average gamer.  If a game is only good if you are an expert gamer who is good enough to "get it", than a review that says the game is good is misleading since 90% of the people who read that review and go buy the game will not find it good. 

But the reason that post bugs me is just the elitist view that you have to earn your right to be good enough to review a game, which is fucking balls.  That's why there are multiple reviews for any product.  Look at Rotten Tomatoes.  Maybe some of the reviews don't have enough knowledge of a subject to review a movie about it, but that's why there's dozens of other reviews to counter it. 

But that wouldnt be the fault of the game or the reviewer? The problem is diaper babies that cry because they think Bayonetta sucks because they cant play games for shit. Yes Im an elitist, but Im sick of seeing awesome games pissed on becuase they arent fucking mainstream. I dont care if a review is supposed to cater for joe average Call of Duty player, if the reviewer lacks the necessary skill to enjoy a game to its fullest extent, they are not fit to review the product, end of story.
+1111111111
If you're bad at games then get the fuck out of my hobby and stop shitting it up for those of us that are competent enough to best AI
hi5