Sounds to me like your a big supporter of the word police.

Yeah. Who needs nattering in their ear from morning to night

You are a stonedsanta. Be careful, that stuff will warp your mind. And one day you will stop, and realise what you lost.

As a man I mean. I mean the bear might eat you. But either ways, it’s not gonna be a drawn out affair. What about you lice?

Tell me about it. Assmasters

AAAAAHHHRRGGG!!! Big Arthur is after me. He been throwing his hooks at me, and he bit me. I fear terribly that he may be an emissary of the chipman. Only way out I can see is to go down. I’m tunnelling, and will build an subterranean temple. I will perform the magic to create an Mirror of the Dimerald. Thence I shall walk through it, into lands far stranger than these. Follow me my friend lice, do not forsaken me. Hope burns bright.

Rules shmules

You not nice.

You don’t want to add civility - that constrains. Best let people be free.

Hidden underwear is short version

Doomed. Doomed, to spend your days in the lost castle of the crashed ninononamus. I founded a passage, leading through underground jungles, to the heart of this flippant telegraphy, and on and down into the trees, where some red thing awaits, should I stay.

Into the trees.

I like seven things

Skill rack C

Krack cills

Hi lice, I like rain.

Cheers 🙂

Hi , I think someone is word policing me.

Hi, I had two curries for tea, and then went casino, and I started farting at the table. It was OK though, cause there was a ragged looking guy sitting next to me, and everyone thought he was the creator of the whiff. But then the dam broke, and before I had time to move, I had rivers of  stinking shit all in my pants and down my legs. But it was OK, cause ragged was still there. I was winning big, so was reluctant to make a move home, but in the end the silent farts had become a thing of the past, and I was exposed as the gruesome creator of foulness. I said sorry to everyone, and threw a couple chips at each, unfortunately they were partially shitstained as I had to scratch my arsemess. I picked up my chips, and ran for the door in the hope of avoiding covering the casino floor in my leakage, but the attempt, though valiant, was ultimately in vain. I’m gonna get someone to cash my chips for me, and not go back for two years. Might be OK then.

Is a question content? - sorry, I get everything else, and am grateful. I just don’t get this. Are you having a go at me for asking about the rules?

Thanks wesk old bean