When you clean your vacuum cleaner, aren't you the vacuum cleaner? :thinking:
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Hyper improvement platform
twitchquotes:Micheal, in this brand new season full of unexpected challenges and adventures in the world that is solo q, what can I / We / YOUR VIEWERS use in order to maximise our game knowledge and as a result increase our chance of getting higher ranks, I need a hyper improvement platform man, hit me up!
Micheal, in this brand new season full of unexpected challenges and adventures in the world that is solo q, what can I / We / YOUR VIEWERS use in order to maximise our game knowledge and as a result increase our chance of getting higher ranks, I need a hyper improvement platform man, hit me up!
SCP Jerma
Item #: SCP-985-J
Object Class: Euclid
Special Contain Procedures: SCP-985-J must be kept in a standard humanoid containment cell decorated to look like an average American household with a live video feed. SCP-985-J must be fed BrainFluud once every 6 hours for sustenance.
Personnel assigned to SCP-985-J must refrain from using the words "Short Streamer" "Late" "Loud Pee" and "Bald" as this can agitate SCP-985-J, causing it to enter an enraged state.
SCP-985-J is allowed access to one (1) Garfield comic strip per day for entertainment.
Description: SCP-985-J is a 32 year old Caucasian male from Boston, MA. SCP-985-J refers to itself as "Jeremy Elbertson" and believes itself to be much taller than it appears to others, referring to itself as being "not tiny" and "compact".
SCP-985-J was discovered by the Foundation on ██/██/201█ when footage emerged of it attacking and killing [DATA EXPUNGED]. MTF Gamma-43 ("Anti-Jerms") was dispatched to secure the anomaly and all civilians who had viewed the footage were amnesticized.
Item #: SCP-985-J
Object Class: Euclid
Special Contain Procedures: SCP-985-J must be kept in a standard humanoid containment cell decorated to look like an average American household with a live video feed. SCP-985-J must be fed BrainFluud once every 6 hours for sustenance.
Personnel assigned to SCP-985-J must refrain from using the words "Short Streamer" "Late" "Loud Pee" and "Bald" as this can agitate SCP-985-J, causing it to enter an enraged state.
SCP-985-J is allowed access to one (1) Garfield comic strip per day for entertainment.
Description: SCP-985-J is a 32 year old Caucasian male from Boston, MA. SCP-985-J refers to itself as "Jeremy Elbertson" and believes itself to be much taller than it appears to others, referring to itself as being "not tiny" and "compact".
SCP-985-J was discovered by the Foundation on ██/██/201█ when footage emerged of it attacking and killing [DATA EXPUNGED]. MTF Gamma-43 ("Anti-Jerms") was dispatched to secure the anomaly and all civilians who had viewed the footage were amnesticized.
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
