Sandbox has been cleared. Long live the new Sandbox!:

Mr. Actor is a pedophile. (citation needed). - gets deleted on sight on The Other Wiki. While we don't uses citations like them, we shouldn't be spreading such unverified, libelous claims either.

day off boop.

Edited by Blackfire667 on Apr 22nd 2019 at 7:23:45 AM

you could be bleeding from your eyes

and they'd still have not a trace of sympathy for you.

to them, you are worth only what you can give them. you are valuable only so long as you obey.

the instant you slide out of their cult

they will destroy you.

and they've mastered the art of ruining people.

Edited by Playing_with_boy on May 12th 2019 at 6:09:14 AM

Edited by thespacephantom on May 21st 2019 at 12:23:11 PM

text

How to make a Nasty Patty

1. 両身卡, 简单

A good way to make a sweet, crunchy dough is with the addition of a tablespoon of water to the bowl of a dough hook and turn it once, then quickly turn it again. The dough should stick together easily if you do not try to make it stick, but if you try, it will stick. If it sticks, add half the water at a time. Turn up the heat to medium and let it get a little warm. This way, you will start to find a spot where the dough does no stick and start to work the dough a little.

2. 蓋管, 身卍

The name of this method is 漢管済 (néngxùzù bǐ hán xèyù). It comes from the fact that in cooking these things hot vegetables are added as a way to preserve them. The ingredients for making the nǒngxùzù bǐhá are the cabbage and chives. We used half of the cabbage and half the chives for the dough. Add the water to the dough hook and turn it. Turn it a few more times and then turn it in the Hollaback Girl.

Edited by AtlasStratus on Jun 1st 2019 at 3:41:17 AM

Benzema

Benzema

KARIUS... WTF Are you thinking!?

Hello I am dying.

Everyman HYBRID

Edited by Nouct on Jun 9th 2019 at 1:01:26 AM

[1]

Testing posts: Broken Tears and BrokenTears Edit test again

Edited by iigmir on Jun 22nd 2019 at 4:46:24 PM

Edited by Nouct on Jun 22nd 2019 at 10:53:12 AM

Hey, shrimp. Notice anything different about your Ticonderoga Test Standard #2 pencil?

I    REPLACED    IT with a Ticonderoga Test Standard    MECHANICAL    pencil, with    ADVANCED GRIP!   

Hey kid. Wanna decode the message? Go to http://tangent128.name/depot/waapt/text_tools/index.html today!

Hey... [insert obscenity here]

Notice anything DIFFERENT about your walk home? I    REPLACED    the sidewalk with a conveyer belt leading directly to your house!

Hey, little chef. Notice anything...    DIFFERENT?    It's me! Your    D A D!   

Edited by Routeferret on Jun 28th 2019 at 10:00:59 AM

~Crossover-Enthusiast

[1]◊

Edited by WarJay77 on Jul 4th 2019 at 11:30:15 AM

™

Is TV Tropes an encyclopedia? Maybe, maybe not. It has a distinct structure that most other wikis don't have. But even if it isn't, just being a wiki doesn't make a website ot an encyclopedia. The fifth most popular website in the world is, as everyone who knows the basics about it knows, both. Is IMDb an encyclopedia? Maybe. It's technically a wiki, despite not looking like one and not having common wiki features like free licensing (which we technically don't have, although we formerly did. But more on that another time). Wikileaks is most definitely neither, although its name suggests it's a wiki. In fact, due to its name, many people wrongly think it's affiliated with Wikipedia/Wikimedia (it isn't) or that they might even be the same thing. Again, have these people read the Internet's number 1 source of information? [1]

—

The word "Gothic" can refers to many different things, which have nothing in common except that ... somebody didn't like them at some point.

—

The clerk promised that he would; and Scrooge walked out with a growl. The office was closed in a twinkling, and the clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist (for he boasted no great-coat), went down a slide on Cornhill, at the end of a lane of boys, twenty times, in honour of its being Christmas Eve, and then ran home to Camden Town as hard as he could pelt, to play at blindman’s-buff. Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker’s-book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now, and dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house, that it seemed as if the Genius of the Weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold. Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, during his whole residence in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the city of London, even including—which is a bold word—the corporation, aldermen, and livery. Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven years’ dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change—not a knocker, but Marley’s face. Marley’s face. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot air; and, though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That, and its livid colour, made it horrible; but its horror seemed to be in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression.

—-

The clerk promised that he would; and Scrooge walked out with a growl. The office was closed in a twinkling, and the clerk, with the long ends of his white comforter dangling below his waist (for he boasted no great-coat), went down a slide on Cornhill, at the end of a lane of boys, twenty times, in honour of its being Christmas Eve, and then ran home to Camden Town as hard as he could pelt, to play at blindman’s-buff.

Scrooge took his melancholy dinner in his usual melancholy tavern; and having read all the newspapers, and beguiled the rest of the evening with his banker’s-book, went home to bed. He lived in chambers which had once belonged to his deceased partner. They were a gloomy suite of rooms, in a lowering pile of building up a yard, where it had so little business to be, that one could scarcely help fancying it must have run there when it was a young house, playing at hide-and-seek with other houses, and forgotten the way out again. It was old enough now, and dreary enough, for nobody lived in it but Scrooge, the other rooms being all let out as offices. The yard was so dark that even Scrooge, who knew its every stone, was fain to grope with his hands. The fog and frost so hung about the black old gateway of the house, that it seemed as if the Genius of the Weather sat in mournful meditation on the threshold.

Now, it is a fact, that there was nothing at all particular about the knocker on the door, except that it was very large. It is also a fact, that Scrooge had seen it, night and morning, during his whole residence in that place; also that Scrooge had as little of what is called fancy about him as any man in the city of London, even including—which is a bold word—the corporation, aldermen, and livery. Let it also be borne in mind that Scrooge had not bestowed one thought on Marley, since his last mention of his seven years’ dead partner that afternoon. And then let any man explain to me, if he can, how it happened that Scrooge, having his key in the lock of the door, saw in the knocker, without its undergoing any intermediate process of change—not a knocker, but Marley’s face.

Marley’s face. It was not in impenetrable shadow as the other objects in the yard were, but had a dismal light about it, like a bad lobster in a dark cellar. It was not angry or ferocious, but looked at Scrooge as Marley used to look: with ghostly spectacles turned up on its ghostly forehead. The hair was curiously stirred, as if by breath or hot air; and, though the eyes were wide open, they were perfectly motionless. That, and its livid colour, made it horrible; but its horror seemed to be in spite of the face and beyond its control, rather than a part of its own expression.

Edited by Lymantria on Jul 20th 2019 at 8:09:02 AM

Edited by Nouct on Jul 17th 2019 at 7:43:24 AM

Obtuse, rubber goose, green moose, guava juice, Giant snake, birthday cake, large fries, chocolate shake

[1]

my 💬 | room

my 🎨 blog

t̷̠̤͎̰̥̼̭̱e҉̶̪̰̙̫̜̝s͈̜̪̺̻̩͟t͘͏̷̟̠̬̠̫̯̬i̷̛̝͖͉͓̥̕n͙͖̗̥̮̮̘̠g̤ ̷̨̭̞̙͙͍͝Z̵̲̜̭̻͟͡a͚͠l҉̴̴̠̤ͅg̵̛͙͍̭͕̪ơ̬̣͚̻ ̹̺͚̖͉̕ͅt̹̺̲͔̱̱̞ͅe̶̵̙͜x̶̸̥͢t̶̻̺͉̞͘

detective boop

Edited by Blackfire667 on Aug 2nd 2019 at 7:55:17 AM