Can we get 90002 posts?

[archaic]

463 Restricted Client: This resource is not available for access by your client software. This request has been blocked. Please retry your request from a different client.

DOSarrest Internet Security is a cloud based fully managed DDoS protection service. This request has been blocked by DOSarrest due to the above violation. If you believe you are getting blocked in error please contact the administrator of www.test.com to resolve this issue.

[Ertew]

^ not working for me.

[Tsuksìm atsawl (KaPTan)]

never works for anyone lad!

[Ertew]

Hmm
Maybe this is the way that it should work?

I just tested it second time and got different results on pc and android.

[archaic]

Nothing to see here .....

Spoiler

I've had the genesis of this running round in my head for a couple of days, decided to share.

Spoiler

It was a pile of boxboard crates, mostly empty. Mostly. Consciousness seeped slowly into the prone figure laying prone in the midst of them, and as it did so, it revealed a deeply troubling amount of aches and pains.
There in the boxes every fiber complaining, every cell seamed to have it's own litany of complaints. Beyond that, it was dark, well, dark-ish.The vivid glow of countless neon adverts and TV screen were out of sight, but not so very far away.
Straightening a cramping leg triggered a small avalanche of cardboard crates. Each seemed to find something sore to land on. Blessed unconsciousness returned.
It was impossible to know how long it lasted, but the first glow of dawn accompanied voices.
"This one's still alive!"
"Lucky swine."
"Boxes must've hidden 'em. Good insulation 'n'all."
"Mmm. Can't leave 'em here."
"I gotcha."
"Hey, you in the boxes, you hear me?" if there was any sympathy there, it was well hidden.
"I hear you."
"You move? Coz you don't wanna hang around 'ere. Not everything round these parts has your best interests in mind."
A slew of brown and white spread and parted, a figure struggled painfully to their knees and blinked in the fore-glow of approaching sunrise.
It was a wide walkway, cement, metal and polymer all added to a trashed future look of the place, graffiti hinted at chaos and the garbage piles seemed to confirm it.
Beyond was a sweeping vista of vast towering city blocks, there was something just a little dystopically awkward and unsettling about them.
The two voices and their two mute companions wore uniforms, body armor with badges and assorted equipment. They carried assault rifles and a good deal of spare ammunition. Police for some urban hell.
"So what's your name buddy?" one officer began.
"Boss, we got company, movement, headed this way." interrupted one of his formally silent companions, now looking at a screen clamped to his left wrist.
Dawn broke, flooding them with the morning's first rays.
"Them?"
"Can't tell, moving. This way. Definitely this way."
"Places."
They all went down on one knee, riffles trained.
"Better make yourself scarce, just in case."
"Just in case?"
"Yeah, just in      MONSTERS!!! IT"S THE MONSTERS! RUN! RUN! RUN! GET OUT OF HERE! RUN!!!!!!!!"
Fear, panic and running.
Behind was gunfire, and lots of it. Four sets of automatics, and something else, lots of something else.
"GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT OF HERE!" another of the officers screamed.
A side passage with shadow and perhaps a place to hide and shelter.  The sound of running feet headed away added a fresh urgency. Running on legs that screamed in complaint ended with the inevitable trip, fall, a half rolling slither into a filthy and all too exposed alcove. Daylight streaming in, police long gone. There in the light, a shadow. Something with four arms, a pistol in each hand. It looked huge, a monster.
"Run." mocked something that didn't sound human.
"Run." it said again, it didn't sound like something from Earth at all.
It saw a fallen prize, easy pickings, it closed in.
Wincing, pressed hard up against the back of the niche, a hand outstretched to fend off what four heavily armed men had fled from. Approaching footfalls crunched closer on the trash strewn passage floor.
Eyes screwed tightly shut, waiting for who knew what.
Something touched the hand.
For an instant it was cold, and then it wasn't.
Opening his eyes in disbelief, there was sight. Two golden yellow eyes set in a face as black as night.
"Toothless?" quietly whispered.
"My name Stitch, any friend of dragon, is friend of Stitch." said the surprisingly small, blue, four armed creature that stood beside the Nightfury.
Having already holstered it's weapons, it held out a hand in friendship.

[Toliman]

Nothing to see here .....

Spoiler

I've had the genesis of this running round in my head for a couple of days, decided to share.

Spoiler

It was a pile of boxboard crates, mostly empty. Mostly. Consciousness seeped slowly into the prone figure laying prone in the midst of them, and as it did so, it revealed a deeply troubling amount of aches and pains.
There in the boxes every fiber complaining, every cell seamed to have it's own litany of complaints. Beyond that, it was dark, well, dark-ish.The vivid glow of countless neon adverts and TV screen were out of sight, but not so very far away.
Straightening a cramping leg triggered a small avalanche of cardboard crates. Each seemed to find something sore to land on. Blessed unconsciousness returned.
It was impossible to know how long it lasted, but the first glow of dawn accompanied voices.
"This one's still alive!"
"Lucky swine."
"Boxes must've hidden 'em. Good insulation 'n'all."
"Mmm. Can't leave 'em here."
"I gotcha."
"Hey, you in the boxes, you hear me?" if there was any sympathy there, it was well hidden.
"I hear you."
"You move? Coz you don't wanna hang around 'ere. Not everything round these parts has your best interests in mind."
A slew of brown and white spread and parted, a figure struggled painfully to their knees and blinked in the fore-glow of approaching sunrise.
It was a wide walkway, cement, metal and polymer all added to a trashed future look of the place, graffiti hinted at chaos and the garbage piles seemed to confirm it.
Beyond was a sweeping vista of vast towering city blocks, there was something just a little dystopically awkward and unsettling about them.
The two voices and their two mute companions wore uniforms, body armor with badges and assorted equipment. They carried assault rifles and a good deal of spare ammunition. Police for some urban hell.
"So what's your name buddy?" one officer began.
"Boss, we got company, movement, headed this way." interrupted one of his formally silent companions, now looking at a screen clamped to his left wrist.
Dawn broke, flooding them with the morning's first rays.
"Them?"
"Can't tell, moving. This way. Definitely this way."
"Places."
They all went down on one knee, riffles trained.
"Better make yourself scarce, just in case."
"Just in case?"
"Yeah, just in      MONSTERS!!! IT"S THE MONSTERS! RUN! RUN! RUN! GET OUT OF HERE! RUN!!!!!!!!"
Fear, panic and running.
Behind was gunfire, and lots of it. Four sets of automatics, and something else, lots of something else.
"GET OUT OF HERE! GET OUT OF HERE!" another of the officers screamed.
A side passage with shadow and perhaps a place to hide and shelter.  The sound of running feet headed away added a fresh urgency. Running on legs that screamed in complaint ended with the inevitable trip, fall, a half rolling slither into a filthy and all too exposed alcove. Daylight streaming in, police long gone. There in the light, a shadow. Something with four arms, a pistol in each hand. It looked huge, a monster.
"Run." mocked something that didn't sound human.
"Run." it said again, it didn't sound like something from Earth at all.
It saw a fallen prize, easy pickings, it closed in.
Wincing, pressed hard up against the back of the niche, a hand outstretched to fend off what four heavily armed men had fled from. Approaching footfalls crunched closer on the trash strewn passage floor.
Eyes screwed tightly shut, waiting for who knew what.
Something touched the hand.
For an instant it was cold, and then it wasn't.
Opening his eyes in disbelief, there was sight. Two golden yellow eyes set in a face as black as night.
"Toothless?" quietly whispered.
"My name Stitch, any friend of dragon, is friend of Stitch." said the surprisingly small, blue, four armed creature that stood beside the Nightfury.
Having already holstered it's weapons, it held out a hand in friendship.

Txantsan

[Ertew]

Nice story but for what? Prolemur riding nightfury? No, this is not what I expected.

[archaic]

Nice story but for what? Prolemur riding nightfury? No, this is not what I expected.

It's Stitch from Lilo and Stitch (experiment 626).
It flowed from an initial mental image of Hiccup trembling with fear, hand outstretched in defense, only to have Toothless unexpectedly press his head against it in friendship.

Like the image, BTW, irayo for sharing!

[Ertew]

Oh, that Stitch. Irayo, that explains a lot.

[Ertew]

Tsylan send more than 10 posts without any interrupts. He cheating a little but definitely achieve goal of owning all 10 positions of recent posts.


Any ideas for prize and ceremony?

[Vawmataw]

Any ideas for prize and ceremony?

Since Tsylan is French...

[Ertew]

Yep, but who cares? It's spam section and imho prize should be adequate to unwritten rules inside section.


EDIT:
French revolution are barefoot? That's nice.

[archaic]

Propaganda ≠ historical accuracy.

[Toliman]

Propaganda ≠ historical accuracy.

^ Exactly this ^

[Vawmataw]

but propaganda is itself a historical fact

[archaic]

True, a paradox!

[Vawmataw]

I just wanted to tell that on July 20th, 2012 at 20:45:56, I clicked the signup button.

[Ertew]

^ You misstype time and date. On Your profile I see:

Date Registered:    2012-07-21, 02:45:56

[Vawmataw]

I reformulated it

[Rotobull cz]

I just wanted to tell that on July 20th, 2012 at 20:45:56, I clicked the signup button.

It's great to have you here - we all represent a particularly interesting community.