Here's the thing. You said a "wyvern is a dragon." Is it in the same family? Yes. No one's arguing that. As someone who is a 1k MMR feeder who studies dragons, I am telling you, specifically, in dota, no one calls wyverns dragons. If you want to be "specific" like you said, then you shouldn't either. They're not the same thing. If you're saying "dragon family" you're referring to the taxonomic grouping of Varanidae, which includes things from wyverns to eldwurms to drakes. So your reasoning for calling a wyvern a dragon is because random people "call the flying lizards dragons?" Let's get gyarados and charizards in there, then, too. Also, calling someone a noob or a feeder? It's not one or the other, that's not how taxonomy works. They're both. A wyvern is a wyvern and a member of the dragon family. But that's not what you said. You said a wyvern is a dragon, which is not true unless you're okay with calling all members of the dragon family dragons, which means you'd call eldwurms, drakes, and other flying lizards dragons, too. Which you said you don't. It's okay to just admit you're wrong, you know?
What happened to this ad? :(
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Pepe 200 IQ
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Pepe
Bloons TD Dart Monkey
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What if we make Firelands Portal a common?
twitchquotes:
"How did Kripp get 12 wins?" Ben Brode demanded at the board meeting. "You were supposed to be monitoring him, Charlie." "Sorry, I must've fallen asleep. He was streaming some boring action-RPG earlier today." Ben Brode frowned. "The salt shortage is cutting into our profits. We're going to need a solution, quick." Sarah raised her hand. "What if we make Firelands Portal a common?"
twitch chat
Kripp
Hearthstone
Don't you guys feel any embarrasment?
twitchquotes:
Don't you guys feel any embarrasment? Spamming chat all day, using emotes for everything, 
this, 
that. You type the same copypasta, each one more absurd than the last one, over and over and over, like children. You people make me sick.
this, that. You type the same copypasta, each one more absurd than the last one, over and over and over, like children. You people make me sick.
twitch chat
I hate Twitch Chat
I finally did it. I out pizza'd the Hut
I finally did it. I out pizza'd the Hut. It was the greatest mistake of my life.
After years of perfecting my recipe, I made my way down to the local hut, fresh-baked pizza pie in hand. "Try this," I told the kid working the counter. He did, and he had to agree that it was better than anything Pizza Hut had to offer. Soon, the entire store, customers included, was feasting on my delicious pie. The manager walked over, grabbed a slice, and took a bite. I look at him, anticipation rising. This was the boss, the local fief lord of the Hut. His approval meant more to me than all the rest combined. He took a bite and nodded. "I'll be damned," he said, "you really did it. You out- pizza'd the Hut. Shame." Shame? What did he mean by tha-- the manager pulled a gun out from behind his apron and shot the nearest customer in the head. "We have a Code Jalapeño," he said into his wrist as he executed the remaining customers. "I repeat, we have a Code Jalapeño." The ground was slick with blood. The kid working the counter choked out his dying breath as the manager turned to me. "You just had to do it motherfucker. You just had to out pizza the Hut." He shoved the gun in my face. I was too scared to fight, too scared to run. The manager pulled the trigger.
A click. The gun was empty. I threw a chair at the manager and scrambled out of the Pizza Hut, not even bothering to see if my missile hit its mark. I was closely pursued by the manager, who had gotten his hands on a deadly sharp pizza cutter. I suspected in his hands it would cut more than pizza. Somehow, I was able to get into my car and speed off, the manager cursing my existence as I left him behind. I took a deep breath. The manager was clearly psychotic. Yes, that was it, just a crazy man with a gun. It had to be. My phone rang. Sister. I picked it. "They're dead, she sobbed. They're all dead. Mom, Dad, Chris, Bill. Dead. They killed them all." I could barely understand her, so great were her sobs. "What do you mean? Where are you?" I asked urgently. "How is this possi--" A single gunshot sounded through my phone's speakers. Silence. Then, I heard a man's voice. "No one out pizzas the Hut." He hung up. I drove down the empty country road, mind blank. I had nothing. They killed my family. I was alone.
At that moment I knew what I had to do. They took everything from me. Well then, I would take everything from them. Pizza Hut was so terrified of being out pizza'd, they forgot there's one thing worse than a man with a recipe: A man with nothing to lose. I'll give them a limited time offer they won't be able to refuse: two bullets for the price of one.
With a free side order of pain.