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?
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⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠠⢀⠄⡅⢔⠰⡨⢢⢡⢑⠔⠅⠕⠄⠅⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠅⢔⠨⢐⠅⡌⢆⢣⠪⡪⡘⡌⡮⡱⡡⣊⢌⢀⢀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠠⡐⢄⠕⡡⡘⢔⢱⢨⢪⢪⢪⢪⡺⣪⢞⢮⢫⢮⢺⢔⢆⡢⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⠐⠈⠄⡠⡊⢌⠢⡑⡌⡆⡇⡇⡇⡇⣇⢗⣝⢮⡺⣪⡳⣹⡪⣞⢵⢝⡵⡝⣕⠡⢀⢂⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⢊⢂⠁⡔⡌⡢⢑⠌⡢⡱⡸⡸⡸⡪⡺⡸⣕⢵⡳⣝⢮⡺⣪⢞⣵⣫⡳⣕⢯⡺⡬⠄⠕⡕⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⡇⡇⡂⢢⢣⢣⠨⡂⡊⢔⢕⢱⡱⡝⣜⢝⡺⣜⡵⣝⢮⡳⡽⣵⣻⡺⣼⡺⡵⣳⢝⡮⡃⡕⡺⢄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⢸⡱⡱⡨⢪⢪⢢⠡⢂⢊⠢⡱⡱⡱⡝⡮⡳⣝⢞⢮⢗⡯⣯⢯⣗⡯⣟⣮⢯⣟⢮⡳⣝⢇⢇⢎⢵⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
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⠄⠄⢀⠮⡪⢪⠪⠢⡃⡪⡂⠅⢕⠰⢱⢸⢸⡱⣝⢮⡳⡽⣪⢏⡯⡯⣟⡾⣽⣺⢽⣳⡳⣝⢮⡳⣫⣳⢳⡱⡱⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⢀⡃⡫⢔⢨⢕⢕⢔⢌⢌⠢⡑⡱⡘⢜⢜⢮⡳⣝⣞⢵⣫⢿⢽⣺⡽⡾⣾⢽⣳⢯⢮⡳⣝⣕⢗⢵⡑⡕⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠐⠢⡱⡐⢕⢵⣑⡑⢕⢐⠕⠸⠰⡑⠕⢕⢕⠽⡕⣏⢗⢽⢝⢽⠺⠽⠽⢽⢻⢽⢽⢵⢽⡸⣪⢳⢱⢱⡱⡽⡡⡀⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠨⠈⢆⢊⢎⢖⢂⠃⠡⠐⠈⠈⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢑⢹⢘⣜⢕⠑⡈⠄⡈⣈⣐⠨⠘⡜⢕⡳⣝⢮⡳⡱⡱⡵⡯⡪⠂⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠅⢂⠑⡕⡕⠄⡢⢀⠄⠠⠄⠁⠁⡌⠠⢠⠄⠸⣸⣺⡪⣐⠅⢢⢈⠄⢬⢍⣆⢧⣳⡽⡮⣺⡪⡺⣘⢼⣝⠆⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠨⡢⡢⡣⡳⢑⢰⢐⠠⡊⡪⣢⡣⡪⡰⠑⡀⠨⣪⢷⣝⡮⡫⡪⣪⢾⢝⣯⢾⣝⣗⡯⣟⢮⡪⡯⡷⣗⡯⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⢕⠄⡇⡣⡑⠔⢅⠇⡇⡏⡖⡕⡕⣌⢂⠂⠌⢮⢷⡳⡯⡯⡾⡵⣫⢯⢞⣗⡷⡯⣯⡳⣱⢱⢝⡽⣺⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠡⡡⢱⢐⠨⠨⠐⡡⢃⢇⢇⡏⡞⡔⡐⠠⢑⢽⢽⢽⢽⢽⢽⣝⢗⡯⣟⢾⢽⢝⡞⣜⢜⢜⣽⣺⠎⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠊⠃⠂⡐⠄⠅⡐⡈⡢⡃⢇⠕⡢⠄⠨⢘⢮⢯⢯⣳⡫⡗⣗⢽⢝⡮⡯⡮⡣⡏⣎⢎⠞⠺⠊⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠂⡁⢂⠐⡈⡢⢑⠅⡕⡐⠈⠨⡨⢯⣻⢽⣺⢺⡺⡪⣏⢷⢽⢕⣯⡫⣞⢜⢜⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⡁⠄⠄⠂⡂⠌⠄⢕⢐⠌⢄⠄⠨⠨⢘⢥⢅⡵⣝⣝⢮⡳⡽⣝⡮⣺⢪⢎⣗⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢂⢀⠡⠄⠌⠌⢂⢂⠪⠐⡌⢰⢰⢘⢼⢝⣞⢞⣞⡵⡯⣞⢵⣫⢮⡳⡣⡳⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⡀⠐⠄⠊⠄⠨⠐⠠⠈⠌⠘⠜⠵⡢⢳⢹⢜⢕⠕⠱⡹⡪⡳⣕⣳⢹⡸⠅⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
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⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢰⣇⠄⠐⠠⠄⠁⠄⠡⢀⢂⢅⢔⢄⣆⣆⢕⢵⡹⣪⡳⣕⢵⢱⢕⢇⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠱⡿⣵⣀⠄⠄⠄⠈⠨⠨⡂⢇⢎⢕⢎⢞⡽⡵⣝⢮⢺⢸⠸⡘⣜⢼⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢹⣺⣳⣧⣄⡀⠄⠄⡀⠂⠌⡂⠕⢌⠊⢎⠪⠪⠪⡊⡆⣕⣕⢧⣓⣧⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⢪⢞⣾⡽⣷⣮⡄⠐⠄⡂⠌⢌⠢⢑⢐⢄⢅⢇⢇⣗⣕⢗⡵⣽⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⡾⣽⣯⣷⣿⡿⣮⣰⢱⡱⣜⢔⡑⡜⣜⢮⣣⡳⣪⢷⣽⣿⣿⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⡷⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣮⣗⣽⢵⢕⣕⢮⡺⢝⣵⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⣯⡿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣵⣏⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠻⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠉⠄⠄⠄⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁⠄⠄⠁⠠⠄⠄⠄⠈⠽⣿⣿⣿⣷⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡵⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠁⠈⠄⠄⢸⣹⡪⣿⣿⣿⡂⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⢿⣿⣿⣻⣿⣿⣯⣿⣢⣄⠄⠄⠄⠑⠠⢸⣿⣿⣮⢞⣿⣧⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
No hate towards Discord server admins
I'm seeing many bigoted messages in #general so I just want to make this clear: any hate towards server admins will result in a permanent ban from this Discord server with no warning. This includes, but is not limited to, calling moderation a "fake job" or saying that we "do it for free". Moderation is one of the most useful jobs to society.
Behave. Or get banned.
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Spam this until you're banned
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KKomrade
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠟⠛⠉⠉⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠋⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠛⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⣀⢀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢘
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢐⢲⣿⡖⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣾
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡷⣄⣤⣶⡿⡗⠐⠂⠒⠒⠐⠒⠒⠒⠂⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢤⣴⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⢛⣩⣾⠟⠛⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣾⣿⣿⣿
⡿⣋⣵⣶⣿⡿⠛⠑⢀⣴⣶⣶⡶⠒⠛⠒⠂⠿⠻⠟⠒⠒⠶⣶⣶⣄⢻⣿⣿⣿
⣾⣿⣿⡿⠋⠉⠴⠔⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣀⣀⣰⣶⣀⠀⢰⣶⣾⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⠟⣱⣴⣰⡔⡿⢟⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿
⠟⢃⣾⡿⢗⣡⣴⣜⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢻⣿⣿⡌⠛⠈⢹⣿⡻⣿⣿⡟⣼⣿⣿⣿
⣀⣀⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⠀⢉⣉⣓⣒⣛⡛⠛⠀⣸⣿⢃⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣷⣶⣾⣍⣉⣠⣾⣾⠿⠏⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠻⣿⡿⠁⡈⢿⣿⣯⣤⣤⣈⡹⠛⠁⠀⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⡁⠀⠃⠈⠻⠿⠿⠫⠟⠟⠀⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣀⣀⠀⠀⠠⣀⣀⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
It's not gay with socks on
When I was 13 years old a buddy of mine tried to convince me to fool around. I wasn't into it, and he told me it's not gay if you're wearing socks. I didn't believe him, went home, and asked my dad.
That's 'gentleman's gay', hardly gay at all. Don't see it much these days.
The 50s were a different time. What were we to do? We were typical boarding school boys, rich with vigor, skin slick with drying sweat and gritty earth from a game of pigskin.
At night our young, virile bodies filled the dorm with sweet-musky vapors, like game-meat stewed with apple and peppercorn. You'd awake in darkness to the hushed, melodic rhythm of two pairs of white tube socks, barely visible in moonlight, bouncing on the hardwood floor.
The deep bond of male friendship played like a thousand different human instruments. The wet claps of skin on skin, the gentle thud of heads on backboards, frenzied cries in the throes of climax. Wilbur, so fat and soft like tapioca pudding. His breasts were so like the real thing, what we fantasized of our future wives. Unwilling, defenseless Wilbur, so slow and uncoordinated in the dark. 10 of us would glaze his bare, pink flesh like a giant raspberry danish. He once had the audacity to tell Headmaster Redford. But Redford was a Deerfield boy once, he understood. So he joined us on our midnight hog hunts.
Through college and years after we'd find time here and there, away from the wives at a family lake house. But it's been decades now - the times have certainly changed. If you wanted to do something private with another man, in your socks, it wasn’t ‘gay’. It was just two men, celebrating each other's strength.