/jp/ - Otaku Culture

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

inb4 butthurt manchild sage spam

[Anonymous No.]

Tell us something new for a chance

[Anonymous No.]

Trap hijack.

[Anonymous No.]

But of course, none of us will. After all, we're all pure maidens who can enjoy each other's company without resorting to vulgar acts. Each and every /jp/ user enjoys drinking tea and discussing VNs with her fellow little girls more than the empty pleasure brought by sexual acts.

[Anonymous No.]

how do you know?

[Anonymous No.]

Kinda hard when you don't have any sex drive.

[Anonymous No.]

I will never want to have sex.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951632
lol u mad
>>6951630
Already did.

[Anonymous No.]

But I already had sex...

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951632
On this topic... why does this board sage literally every thread? Related, non-related... unless it's TOOHOO, it apparently isn't good enough.
It's no wonder that everyone hates this board.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951672
Oh boy, here we go again. Can we just skip to the aikido pasta?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951660
>>6951669
Get out normalfags

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951672

You're an idiot.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951672
I don't hate it so not everyone hates it, moron

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951672
Considering how slow this board is, it is advised not to bump your post if you don't consider it worthy, such as this very post.
Also, I do believe most of /jp/ is more than fine with "everyone" hating this board and hope it stays that way.
If only it could actually prevent retards from flooding in though.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951648
Oh god what did I miss.
That image disturbs me.

[Anonymous No.]

Since I find 3D people sexually unappealing I don't really care

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951696
Typical japanese tourists learning about american culture.
Also, check out that latino chick's expression, priceless.

[Anonymous No.]

not only have I had sex, but did you know it's legal to marry as young as 16 in the state of texas with parental consent?
Of course I wasn't 16, I was twenty. But my blushing bride was 16.
Wow, what fun that was!
(I'm glad I'm divorced)

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951706
Wow, that can't be true

[Anonymous No.]

Already did, many times. inb4 "get out of /jp/" from 300 newfags trying to show off their secret club membership. Don't care. Deal with it.

[Anonymous No.]

Did it with 3 different girls.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951730
Yeah, no, get out

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951730
You having had sex is nothing to be angry about, as long as you don't try to shove it into everyone's face and think you're superior to others just because of that.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951730
Oh yeah, I'm also a girl if that matters.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951754
Double get out!

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951754
Slut of the year

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951740

Aww, newfriends are cute. Maybe your elders will think you're cool now, baby. ;_; <3

>>6951753

I don't. I don't care if you care that I've had sex and I don't care if you have or haven't had sex. It's a non-issue. What makes me laugh is that /jp/ tries to make -not- having had sex some kind of badge of honour. Do you not realise how transparent your motives are? "We can't get anyone to have sex with us, therefore we'll say that having sex is a bad thing and if we perpetuate that long enough eventually we'll believe it. People who -have- had sex will remain outsiders to us, for they have achieved what we originally wanted. We are subconsciously Envious, but they are Different and Bad. That is Worse."

It's the same thought process that lies behind religion and all sorts.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951754
>>6951730
Trying tremendously hard there.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951769

lol, okay. I guess this essentially means you're angry that I had sex with someone who isn't you.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951779
I'm angry that you don't know how to use capital letters. But you did say you were a girl, and are using image macros, so I guess I should just deal with it.

[Anonymous No.]

Spam thread? Spam thread.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951779
Attentionwhore of the year

[Anonymous No.]

So a frog hops into a bank. He gets in line for the teller windows, and eventually Betty Black, who had only been hired a week ago, calls him up to her window. He hops up onto the counter and croaks,

"I want a loan."

Now, Betty hadn't been working at the bank very long, but even with just one week of experience she was pretty sure they didn't usually serve animals there! So she stutters a little and finally responds, "But... but aren't you a frog?"

"Don't sass back to me!" the frog yells. "I'll have you know, Mick Jagger was my father! I don't have to take it!"

[Anonymous No.]

I refuse to have sex with ugly girls just to lose my virginity, that's just not right.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951630
not with a biological woman
also
>>6951648
notice how naked guy and japan family are looking at different cameras. I say spotted for fake, but very nice try.

[Anonymous No.]

Of course, Betty is more confused than ever! But after a little more stuttering and looking around in confusion, she regains her composure and starts to process the frog's transaction. "Okay," she says, "I'll get you some forms to fill out, but first I need to know what collateral you'll be using. Is it an auto loan, or a mortgage, or...?"

The frog immediately produces an ODD TRINKET out of thin air. It's one of those porcelain elephants you sometimes see on mantlepieces, with a clock in its stomach. Betty stares at the object and asks, "what is this supposed to be, sir?"

"My collateral," says the frog, beginning to get annoyed.

"I'm sorry, but I'm sure we don't accept, er, whatever that is as..."

"Let me talk to your manager," shouts the frog.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951807
So Betty sighs and leads the frog, who is now carrying his ODD TRINKET on his back, into the manager's office. The manager looks up from his desk, and asks Betty what the problem is.

"This frog is trying to borrow money, but he's being very unreasonable. He keeps claiming he's the son of Mick Jagger, and what's worse," she adds, pointing at the trinket, "he's trying to offer THAT thing as collateral. I don't even know what it's supposed to be."

The bank manager takes off his glasses, and looks at all the dramatis personae in turn: the teller, the frog, and the TRINKET. Finally, his gaze meets the teller's again, and he replies,

"It's a knick-knack, Betty Black. Give the frog a loan. His old man's a Rolling Stone."

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951783

umm... okay. you sound a little flustered! I daresay even mad, perhaps... :3 but I'm going for a bath now (try not to fap!), anyway, so take care!

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951799
Not fake. The guy has hundreds of photos like that. He walks around naked and people take pictures with him.

I'll look for his flickr page...

[Anonymous No.]

Nineteen-seventy-one was the Year of Spaghetti.

In 1971, I cooked spaghetti to live, and lived to cook spaghetti. Steam rising from the pot was my pride and joy, tomato sauce bubbling up in the saucepan my one great hope in life.

I went to a cooking specialty store and bought a kitchen timer and a huge aluminum pot, big enough to bathe a German shepherd in, then went around to all the supermarkets that catered to foreigners, gathering an assortment of odd-sounding spices. I picked up a pasta cookbook at the bookstore, and bought tomatoes by the dozen. I purchased every brand of spaghetti I could lay my hands on, simmered every sauce known to man. Fine particles of garlic, onion, and olive oil swirled in the air, forming a harmonious cloud that penetrated every corner of my tiny apartment, permeating the floor and the ceiling and the walls, my clothes, my books, my records, my tennis racquet, my bundles of old letters. It was a fragrance one might have smelled on ancient Roman aqueducts.

This is a story from the Year of Spaghetti, 1971 A.D.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951823
As a rule, I cooked spaghetti, and ate it, by myself. I was convinced that spaghetti was a dish best enjoyed alone. I can't really explain why I felt that way, but there it is.

I always drank tea with my spaghetti and ate a simple lettuce-and-cucumber salad. Id make sure I had plenty of both. I laid everything out neatly on the table and enjoyed a leisurely meal, glancing at the paper as I ate. From Sunday to Saturday, one Spaghetti Day followed another. And each new Sunday started a brand-new Spaghetti Week.

Every time I sat down to a plate of spaghetti (especially on a rainy afternoon) I had the distinct feeling that somebody was about to knock on my door. The person who I imagined was about to visit me was different each time. Sometimes it was a stranger, sometimes someone I knew. Once, it was a girl with slim legs whom I'd dated in high school, and once it was myself, from a few years back, come to pay a visit. Another time, it was William Holden, with Jennifer Jones on his arm.

William Holden?

Not one of these people, however, actually ventured into my apartment. They hovered just outside the door, without knocking, like fragments of memory, and then slipped away.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951827
Spring, summer, and fall, I cooked and cooked, as if cooking spaghetti were an act of revenge. Like a lonely, jilted girl throwing old love letters into the fireplace, I tossed one handful of spaghetti after another into the pot.

I'd gather up the trampled-down shadows of time, knead them into the shape of a German shepherd, toss them into the roiling water, and sprinkle them with salt. Then I'd hover over the pot, oversized chopsticks in hand, until the timer dinged its plaintive note.

Spaghetti strands are a crafty bunch, and I couldn't let them out of my sight. If I were to turn my back, they might well slip over the edge of the pot and vanish into the night. The night lay in silent ambush, hoping to waylay the prodigal strands.

Spaghetti alla parmigiana

Spaghetti alla napoletana

Spaghetti al cartoccio

Spaghetti aglio e olio

Spaghetti alla carbonara

Spaghetti della pina

And then there was the pitiful, nameless leftover spaghetti carelessly tossed into the fridge.

Born in heat, the strands of spaghetti washed down the river of 1971 and vanished.

I mourn them all -- all the spaghetti of the year 1971.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951833
When the phone rang at 3:20 p.m. I was sprawled out on the tatami, staring at the ceiling. A pool of winter sunlight had formed in the place where I lay. Like a dead fly I lay there, vacant, in a December spotlight.

At first, I didn't recognize the sound as the phone ringing. It was more like an unfamiliar memory that had hesitantly slipped in between the layers of air. Finally, though, it began to take shape, and, in the end, a ringing phone was unmistakably what it was. It was one hundred per cent a phone ring in one-hundred-per-cent real air. Still sprawled out, I reached over and picked up the receiver.

On the other end was a girl, a girl so indistinct that, by four-thirty, she might very well have disappeared altogether. She was the ex-girlfriend of a friend of mine. Something had brought them together, this guy and this indistinct girl, and something had led them to break up. I had, I admit, reluctantly played a role in getting them together in the first place.

Sorry to bother you, she said, but do you know where he is now?

I looked at the phone, running my eyes along the length of the cord. The cord was, sure enough, attached to the phone. I managed a vague reply. There was something ominous in the girls voice, and whatever trouble was brewing I knew that I didn't want to get involved.

Nobody will tell me where he is, she said in a chilly tone. Everybody's pretending they don't know. But there's something important I have to tell him, so please tell me where he is. I promise I won't drag you into this. Where is he?

I honestly don't know, I told her. I haven't seen him in a long time. My voice didn't sound like my own. I was telling the truth about not having seen him for a long time, but not about the other part (I did know his address and phone number). Whenever I tell a lie, something weird happens to my voice.

No comment from her.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951840
The phone was like a pillar of ice.

Then all the objects around me turned into pillars of ice, as if I were in a J. G. Ballard science-fiction story.

I really don't know, I repeated. He went away a long time ago, without saying a word.

The girl laughed. Give me a break. He's not that clever. We're talking about a guy who has to make a lot of noise no matter what he does.

She was right. The guy really was a bit of a dim bulb.

But I wasn't about to tell her where he was. Do that, and next I'd have him on the phone, giving me an earful. I was through with getting caught up in other peoples messes. I'd already dug a hole in the back yard and buried everything that needed to be buried in it. Nobody could ever dig it up again.

I'm sorry, I said.

You don't like me, do you? she said suddenly.

I had no idea what to say. I didn't particularly dislike her. I had no real impression of her at all. It's hard to have a bad impression of somebody you have no impression of.

I'm sorry, I said again. But I'm cooking spaghetti right now.

I'm sorry?

I said I'm cooking spaghetti, I lied. I had no idea why I said that. But the lie had already become a part of me -- so much so that, at that moment at least, it didn't feel like a lie at all.

I went ahead and filled an imaginary pot with imaginary water, lit an imaginary stove with an imaginary match.

So? she asked.

I sprinkled imaginary salt into the boiling water, gently lowered a handful of imaginary spaghetti into the imaginary pot, set the imaginary kitchen timer for eight minutes.

So I can't talk. The spaghetti will be ruined.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951844
She didn't say anything.

I'm really sorry, but cooking spaghetti is a delicate operation.

The girl was silent. The phone in my hand began to freeze again.

So could you call me back? I added hurriedly.

Because youre in the middle of making spaghetti? she asked.

Yeah.

Are you making it for someone, or are you going to eat alone?

I'll eat it by myself, I said.

She held her breath for a long time, then slowly breathed out. Theres no way you could know this, but I'm really in trouble. I don't know what to do.

I'm sorry I can't help you, I said.

There's some money involved, too.

I see.

He owes me money, she said. I lent him some money. I shouldn't have, but I had to.

I was quiet for a minute, my thoughts drifting toward spaghetti. Im sorry, I said. But I've got the spaghetti going, so . . .

She gave a listless laugh. Goodbye, she said. Say hi to your spaghetti for me. I hope it turns out O.K.

Bye, I said.

[Anonymous No.]

I don't know who the dude is who tirelessly puts copypasta into these threads. But I love him.

[Anonymous No.]

When I hung up the phone, the circle of light on the floor had shifted an inch or two. I lay down again in that pool of light and resumed staring at the ceiling.

Thinking about spaghetti that boils eternally but is never done is a sad, sad thing.

Now I regret, a little, that I didn't tell the girl anything. Perhaps I should have. I mean, her ex-boyfriend wasn't much to start with -- an empty shell of a guy with artistic pretensions, a great talker whom nobody trusted. She sounded as if she really were strapped for money, and, no matter what the situation, you've got to pay back what you borrow.

Sometimes I wonder what happened to the girl -- the thought usually pops into my mind when I'm facing a steaming-hot plate of spaghetti. After she hung up the phone, did she disappear forever, sucked into the 4:30 p.m. shadows? Was I partly to blame?

I want you to understand my position, though. At the time, I didn't want to get involved with anyone. That's why I kept on cooking spaghetti, all by myself. In that huge pot, big enough to hold a German shepherd.

Durum semolina, golden wheat wafting in Italian fields.

Can you imagine how astonished the Italians would be if they knew that what they were exporting in 1971 was really *loneliness*?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951820
http://www.flickr.com/photos/boynaked/

[Anonymous No.]

Unsure of whether I was losing my mind, or tha i've already lost it, I meanwhile formed a conjecture that I had actually found a portal to another dimension. The origin of the compulsions which led me to enter this brothel mystified me, but nonetheless I find myself here. The reasons are irrelevant.

A woman who I assume to be the Madam of the place directed me to enter a waiting room. The forcefulness with which her red-glossed talon pointed at the door gave me a shocking compulsion jolting my legs to move. Before I knew it, I found myself in this tiny cubicle. Theres hardly any space, I can't even sit down. 555...

My mind swarmed with questions, such as what compulsion led me to enter this dingy, horse-breath cubicle. Before I knew it, there was one other man standing beside me. I subterfugously slide my eyes to the side, drawing in the detail of this man from the edge of my vision.

He was wearing a weather-worn leather trenchcoat. His hair was a matt black, untidy like bed hair, while his face was honest and sanguine, covered in stubble. His eyes squinted against a non-existent rain, and behind them stared two dark pupils.

I must have been completely engorged with drawing in his image, because I realise I had turned to face him directly. When he had noticed, he startled for a moment, then with lightning speed, dashed off to my side on the edge of my vision.

He cleared his through. "Ahem. Chances are you probably know why I am here. Im here to relay to you a very important message."

I turned to face him so I could say "No, I don't, just who're you?" but before I could, he again sidestepped to the periphery of my vision.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951865
"Somewhere in an alternate universe your waifu dreams about you, her husbando. "
Those words struck me with a certain heaviness, like they were truly profound words of meaning. For a split second I was taken aback my the sheer power of them. But then questions intruded my thought. Who was this guy? And more importantly, how did he know my lifestyle? Why was he talking like a 4chan otaku?

I moved my hand out to hold him on the shoulder, so he would stay in place. Moments before my hand touched his coat, he swooped downwards, slid between my legs and reappeared behind me. His face touched mine, his stubble bristling against my ear, I could feel a greasy warmth from his skin. Rattling a string of words like a machine gun, he said "She frequents a board very much like this one and she posts pictures of you, In this dimension you are a star of your very own slice of life anime.
She has a folder on her computer dedicated to you, it is over 10 GB big and has every conceivable fan art, rule 34, and picture related to you, She sleeps with a tear stained body pillow with your image on it, She is madly in love with you and only you."

Already he had scuttled out of the cubicle and left. I futilely cried out "Who are you! Why are you telling me this!". It was useless.

But then, from behind the door, a voice. That man, as a departing remark, opined "You are loved, mai.". And then, his head comically popped from the side of door and smiled at me. I hadn't noticed it before, but his lips were curved oddly, in the shape of a three. It was kind of funny, but also genuinely well-meaning. A contortionist perhaps? Or a congenital defect such as cleft lip?

To this day, these strange events that occured the night I entered that brothel have never left me.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951854
His dedication is quite surprising

[Anonymous No.]

I noticed the majority of Otakus tend to have Lolita complex, (I also have it to..., which sometimes scares me to death)
collecting Anime images of characters that look to be the ages between 8 and 14 year old children, can be both a joy and a horror at the same time, especially if you do not want the label a pedophile (aka: short eyes in any prison.)
And the way things are going, it looks like where the majority of us poor lonely fat Otakus will end up, especially when you're dealing with the laws of whatever country you may be from....
and the worst thing that can happen is ending up in prison and getting beaten up (or killed!) By your fellow inmates, worse yet been raped by them every night, believe me, if you managed to survive, you're just plain totally lucky....
a big suggestion, to all of you out there, is to get rid of all the live pictures of Lolita's and such,
if you haven't been paying attention to the news, especially of what's going on in the Japanese anime business, with all these laws being passed against anybody drawing illustration of young girls, very soon will be here, an any artists or any actual producers of Anime
will be arrested for producing these type of images, (which the majority of tend to be forced rape,)
these things have been on my mind for quite a while, I deftly don't ever want to end up in a prison because I had a collection of animated Loli pornography,
mind you, this is happening in Japan right now, but later it will hit the USA, as for the rest of the world?
so don't be surprised, when they knock on your door, and arrest you for your weird fetish,
no wonder I keep a gun next to my bed, when that day happens, I'm probably going to blow my brains out, enough said....

[Anonymous No.]

Omg (″･?_･?)っ-? Im Anonymous and I absolutely luuuv ?_? Fourchan ( ﾟ 3ﾟ)~♪ and my fav is the anime and yuri boards!!!!! Okies so anyways, im going to tell you about the BEST day of my life when I met my hot waifu illya!! ｷﾀ━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━━━ OMFGZ SHE WAS SOOOOO FREAKIN moe IN PERSON!!! Supa moe desu!!!!!!!! ｷﾀ━━━━━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━━━━━━ｯ!

When I walked onto Tokyo street looked up and saw&ILLYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ｷﾀ━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━ｯ!!!!

KONNICHIWA OMGZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ SUPA SUPA SUPA MOE ILLYA-CHAN!!!!! I yelled then she turned tsuntsun then deredere!!

she looked at me (｡????｡) and then he saw how hot I am ( ???) she grabbed my hand and let me knead her delicious flat chest (´・ω・)つ|・・|then pulled me behind a coffee shop （￣へ￣） and started to kiss me!!!!!! [OMG!!! HER TOUNGE TASTED LIKE SNOW!!! RLY!! ( ´∀`) （ﾟДﾟ;) ( ´∀`) \(°∀°)ﾉ \(°∀°)ﾉ\(°∀°)ﾉ then I saw some baka fat bastard watching us and I could tell he was undressing her with his eyes!!!!!!! （￣へ￣）; OMG I COULDNT BELIEVE IT EITHER!!! ?_? ?_? ?_?] so I yelled UH UH BAKA NEKO THATS MY GIRL WHY DONT YOU GO HOOK UP WITH TAIGA CAUSE ILLYA-CHAN LOVES ME!!! ?_? then illya held me close (｡????｡) and said she would only ever love me!!!!!!!! an guess wat!!!!!! she let me knead her again!!!!!!! ** (´・ω・)つ|・・| then we went to her apartment and banged all night long and made 42 babies and they all became holy grails!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nyaaaaa!!! ｷﾀ━━━━━━━━(ﾟ∀ﾟ)━━━━━━━━━ｯ

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951858
Now that makes last pic even less believable.
That guy is always doing weird poses and licking feet and always looking at the same camera the other dudes are.
This just proves it's fake

[Anonymous No.]

I believe you shouldn't underestimate Aikido. Now I know you may be thinking, "Why take a weakling martial art like Aikido seriously when I am learning Kendo?" I can see why you would think that, how can a peaceful martial arts like Aikido beat a powerful one like Kendo?

Well, I have a story to share with you.

Years ago, I was a Kendoka, I thought I was the toughest kid in high school, I would pick fights, and kick ass. I was full of hate, until I picked a fight with the wrong dude. He was a Japanese exchange student, I still remember his name, Noboru Takeda.

I picked on him because of his hilarious and thick Japanese accent. I told him I was going to beat him so hard, he would go back to China(Yeah, I was a little racist prick.), he never said anything back, made me wanted to kick his ass even harder.

Well, here comes the fight. I threw men and do strikes, he dodged them like I was a mere white belt. I was tiring out and he knew, I saw the smirk on his face that made me raged hard. I put all my strength in one amazing tsuki, and he grabbed past it to my wrist and threw me over. My back smacked on the hard cement ground, and I was knocked out for who knows how long.

When I woke up I was in the school infirmary, I asked the nurse who brought me here, and you guessed it, Noboru Takeda. The next day, he wasn't at school, he was back in Japan, and I never got to thank him, for saving my life and showing me the light. I soon learned that he was an Aikidoka and have been practicing Aikido ever since to show my thanks to him.

[Anonymous No.]

[Anonymous No.]

I have defeated countless opponents using Aikido, and they always ask me, Why are you so strong?

I answer, I'm not strong, you are.

Aikido uses the strength of the attacker back at them but 10 times stronger(estimate). Using Aikido and I can probably kill a charging Rhino using it's force right back at it, of course, I'm not going to try it, way to dangerous for any sane person.

I recommend practicing Aikido for every /jp/edo, as you are all physically weak, and Aikido is specialized for the weak to defend against the strong.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FDnYNroUmNs

A 50 year old man with cerebral palsy doing Aikido, very touching.

Arguably the most powerful martial arts in Japan.

An Aikido practitioner is practically invincible, no one of any martial arts background can ever land a punch or kick on one.

Using the power of the attacker, the Aikido practitioner uses absolutely no energy to knock them down.

A fearsome martial arts it is.

[Anonymous No.]

holy shit this board is easy to troll. all you have to do is point out their abject loserness in four words and they start shrieking and whining like retarded children

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951913
Yeah, so?
People get mad when they are bothered, is that too hard to believe?

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951913
hurtfeelings and buttangery

[Anonymous No.]

Everyday I look at /fit/ and laugh. They are so pathetic, wasting there time in a hot stinky gym lifting weights.

I just do Aikido and I look twice as aesthetic as the best looking /fit/ poster. I'm probably twice as strong too, strong enough to compete competitively as a strongman or Olympic lifter.

But I can actually use my strength to defend myself, I can probably take on four Brock Lesnars.

At once.

[Anonymous No.]

You have to take a bath.
You have to take a bath.
Can't you feel it? During the night, while you slept, it came upon you. Grease. Grease, on every centimeter of your skin, from your fingertips to your face. Touch your cheek, quickly now?quickly! Surely you feel it now, how slippery, how utterly vile it has become. Everywhere. Everywhere.

[Anonymous No.]

I used to do aikido.
Shouldn't have quit.

[Anonymous No.]

OP is an asshole.

This thread is bullshit.

2d girls are better than 3d

/thread

[Anonymous No.]

Picture yourself, in every moment of your life, passing from place to place and time to time. Picture those places and times and picture what happened to them. Has the past gone away when you left it? Is this true, can you not go back? If so, surely this can be the same way for places as it is for time. Imagine that when you leave a room, or simply turn away, a multitude of tiny organisms deconstruct the reality you can't see, and it ceases to exist. At the same time, the organisms weave together a new world wherever you go and for whatever you look at out of the material of that dead reality. This of course implies the back of your head does not exist either. So how does it seem familiar? Because when the back of your head does not exist, these organisms may restructure your brain directly in order to create the feeling of familiarity and of memory.
They do all this, without ever ceasing, out of knowledge passed down by instinct that when you cease to acknowledge reality, they as a whole will cease to exist, because reality is the knowing and they are the unknowing, both in mutual interdependence. In time they may attempt to rewire your brain or body to ensure this does not happen, but it is far more likely just one of them will realize that your brain is just a construct of your thought... and since thought is a product of your brain, that single organism, one of an infinite number of organisms will know it's true purpose is not in line with it's kind.

It's purpose is tanasinn.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951913
HEY KISAMAS,

WATASHI NO NAMAE WA ANANIMASU OFFU KAKUSU TO WATASHI WA KIRAI EVERY SINGLE ONE OF ANATA. ALL OF ANATA ARE FAT, BAKA BAKA NO-LIFES WHO SPEND EVERY SECOND OF MAINICHI MITEIRUING AT BAKA PICTURES. ANATA WA SUBETE THAT IS WARUI IN THE SEKAI. HONTO NI, HAVE ANY OF ANATA EVER GOTTEN ANY NEKO? I MEAN, WATASHI GUESS IT'S TANOSHI MAKING FUN OF HITOS BECAUSE OF YOUR OWN UNKAWAIINESS, BUT MINNA TAKE IT TO A WHOLE NEW LEVEL. KORE WA WORSE THAN ONANI-ING TO PICTURES ON HESUBUUKU.


SHIRANAI HITO JA NAI DESHO? JUST HIT WATASHI AND BE SURE TO GANBARIMASU. WATASHI WA PRETTY MUCH PAAFEKUTO. WATASHI WAS AMERIKAN FUTBORU NO CAPTAIN, TO WATASHI WAS HAJIMASHTATER ON WATASHI NO BASUKETOBOORU TEAM. DONNA SUPOTSU DO ANATA ASANBOU, OTHER THAN "ONANI TO NAKED DRAWN NIPPONJIN"? WATASHI MO GET HOMO JA NAI A'S, TO WATASHI HAS A BANGING KAWAII SHOJO (KANOJO WA BLOWJOB WO SHIMASHITA; KUSO WA HONTO NI CASH.) ANATA WA ALL KISAMAS DARE SHOULD JUST KOROSU THEMSELVES. DOMO ARIGATOU GOZAIMASU FOR LISTENING.

[Anonymous No.]

I still laugh at how 4chan doesn't understand what sage means.

If only I knew moon so I wouldn't have to spend time on a board that imports foreign concepts and then DOES IT WRONG all the time.

Using sage as a way to "insult" someone's post or thread is just completely wrong and a retarded misuse of a good feature that is so popular in sites like 2ch and Futaba. Fuck, iichan and 4-ch do it right. It's just 4chan and 4chan's lame knockoffs that fail at using sage.

The true meaning of sage means that YOUR POST isn't worthy enough to bump the thread. It's ironic, because you think that you're insulting others while you're just, in fact, insulting yourself. Yes, sage can be used when posting a derogatory comment in a thread that you don't want to bump, but posting with just the word "sage" accomplishes nothing but contribute to spamming the board. The trend of replying with the name of a tripfag and sage is even worse, as it accomplishes nothing and only serves to increase the e-penis of whoever you're "attacking".

The sage feature was never meant to serve as an implied insult or general disagreement! Why people started using it that way is beyond me. There are plenty of reasons why one would choose not to bump a thread with his reply. For example, bumping threads with stupid one liner replies should be discouraged and those people should be coerced into using sage instead.

I want to use sage, yet I almost never do it on 4chan because people will jump on me thinking I'm insulting their post or something.

[Anonymous No.]

>>6951936
Oh god, I'm laughing so much at now. Never saw that one.

[Anonymous No.]

Anonymous does not really believe that 3D is Pig Disgusting. Rather, Anonymous is

the perfect tsundere. He has been jaded by painful experiences in the past, and

feigns indifference or disgust to protect himself from being hurt again. But peel

away the tsuntsun mask, and you'll see that there is a vulnerable deredere core

yearning to see the light of the day and receive acknowledgment and acceptance

from others.

Indeed, every time Anonymous sees a girl that is even slightly interesting, in his

own mind he has probably already planned their wedding and named their children

before his tsun side catches up to him a few seconds later and rationalizes a

hundred reasons why he shouldn't talk to her. For reasons of pride or shame or

somewhere in between, he has to reject her before she ever has the opportunity to

do so to him. That way he doesn't have to risk being hurt.

[Anonymous No.]

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