Welcome back to Comment of the Week. I'm your hero, your icon — some might even say your savior — Dreamweaver. What is it that I do, you may ask? I wander around in this cesspool we call the comment section, in order to scout for gems that people may have missed. I preserve them here, in a community showcase, to prove that there's still something worth saving in this wicked game we call life. So whether you've been too scared to walk the streets at night, or simply want to remember the crazy things that went down, then this is for you. As always, comments are placed into three categories:
TRUTH: Turkeys have poor night vision.
LOL: Which means they'll never seen me coming.
WUT?: I'll let YOU decide which "coming" I meant.
Fuck... even as I walk the street alone with criminals lying in wait, the only thing on my mind is... that damn song. Atom bomb baby, little atom bomb, I want her in my wigwam. She's just the way, I want her to be...
Dreamweaver: But see, that would require making sense.
Dreamweaver: He meant to say "you can say 'cunt here'."
Dreamweaver: But that guy never asked for anything!
Dreamweaver: Ha, I lie about my microtransactions all the time!
Dreamweaver: And if a locked window is stopping me, I'm finding a door to go through!
Dreamweaver: Directions unclear. Got dick stuck in my zipper.
Dreamweaver: That one scars you for life!
Dreamweaver: OH SNAP, that just got real, son.
Dreamweaver: That guy's always trying to steal my spotlight.
Dreamweaver: "No one who wants to change something sits there... for two hours."
I feel the same way about my underwear after a wet dream.
Dreamweaver: Unless you're Superman.
Dreamweaver: ...I knew there was a reason why I keep cumming back to this site.
Dreamweaver: Confirmed: arkane9 is a filthy casual. Emphasis on the word "filthy."
Dreamweaver: HAHAHAHAHA! See, I can laugh at myself! :D
Dreamweaver: I'm not a scientist, but I agree with that hypothesis.
Dreamweaver: HE'S TRYING THE BEST HE CAN, DAMMIT!
Dreamweaver: He would have the most awesome eulogy ever.
Dreamweaver: At least the Deathclaw isn't wasteful!
Dreamweaver: Makes sense: a "romantic" blowjob is a fantasy.
Dreamweaver: Clothes are for people who have nothing to show off.
Now where's my oversized hoodie and extra baggy jeans?
Dreamweaver: My mother-in-law's not a dinosaur, but she eats me like one.
Dreamweaver: Sounds like I'd fit right in.
Dreamweaver: If you laugh at a laughing owl, does it become a double negative?
Dreamweaver: ...I didn't get laid. :(
Dreamweaver: The sad part is, no one offered to be my hooker. 8^8
Dreamweaver: You'd think the guy whose name rhymes with "BJ" would know that!
Dreamweaver: He tried to warn him, but it was too late.
It was always too late.
Dreamweaver: Brings a whole new meaning to the second part of the question "and how'd you do it?"
Dreamweaver: Which means it's already taken, so you'll have to settle for Lava Beast Jawenko 69.
Dreamweaver: WHAT A TWIST.
(Thanks, Mike Martin!... who somehow got a hold of my email address. *changes lock*)
Dreamweaver: Unlike the breasts of this hooker I've been seeing.
Dreamweaver: You should've done a kick flip 900 in slow motion while wearing a suit made of black cats, with one white cat with a stripe of red paint to act as the tie.
Dreamweaver: White people butt, like turkeys, are 70% white meat and 30% dark meat!
Dreamweaver: It always does.
Dreamweaver: It's like these people... don't respect my authority...
From Review: Typoman
Dreamweaver: Hwo cmoe "man" wsa teh olny wrod slpeled rghit?
Dreamweaver: *looks at header* I can see why he would make that mistake.
Well, that's it for this week. I must leave for now, but perhap we'll meet again.
Until then, stay safe, comrades.
Oh, and watch out for that giant rat gnawing on your leg. I think it's about to hit bone.