They cursed us. Casual they called us. They cursed us, and drove us away. And we wept, Precious, we wept to be so alone. And we forgot the taste of ARPGs...the sound of grinderino...the softness of our gaming chair. We even forgot our own name. My Kripprecious.

It is the year 2016, the Paparrian waits patiently outside Kripp's Sellout Castle. The butler, Trump, opens the door and bows, "His Grace will see you now." Trump brings the Papa into Kripp's throne room, where he sits on a jeweled throne with the Succubus. "Kripp, my son," begins the Papa, but Trump interrupts, "You must pay to speak."

Boy, the mods in this channel have really done a bang-up job. When I first got here it was all cappuccino pasterino, but now that they're using slow mode, r9k and randomly banning people, we can finally have a productive chat without all the IDIOTS. Thank you, mods.

∩༼˵☯‿☯˵༽つ¤=[]:::::> In the name of Renly of House Baratheon, First of his name, rightful King of the Andals and the First Men. Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. I, Kripp of SoloMid, sentence you to die.<====]-o¯\_༼☯‿☯✿༽ﾉ

I love spaghetti, its actually my passion. I have always wanted to eat Greek spaghetti, specifically out of Kripp's underwear where his dongers are Kappa