China #1
Best friends with the mods at c/worldnews@lemmy.ml

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Joined 1 year ago
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Cake day: June 10th, 2023

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  • “But I don’t have a cloaca.”

    Context, if you want it:

    spoiler

    I was playing a frost giant fighter, and I found a dragon egg. I asked the town vet (who the DM made up on the spot) how I could hatch the egg and raise the dragon as my own. The vet told me that dragons cannot be tamed, and that dragons bond with their mothers in the womb, and then, the egg must be laid. My line, “But I don’t have a cloaca”, and the vet shrugs. Queue Always Sunny theme music, “The Gang Kidnaps a Druid”. In the end, I gave birth to my dragon buddy, and I named him Pellinore, and we had many great adventures until I found a bell that reversed aging, and Pellinore turned back into an egg, and the campaign ended before he hatched, again. I’m GMing the new campaign that is all homebrew, and Pellinore is making a comeback, though.






  • Lmfao. 55 upvotes, 4 downvotes, and removed by mods. I’ll just restate it for those that didn’t see it. Jesus isn’t real, the Church hates you. Don’t elevate them by sharing poetry to make them seem less the monsters they are. If it makes their life easier, they will walk over your fallen body and they won’t give it a second thought. When they go to sleep at night, they’ll say their prayers and sleep well while repeating the mantra, “Homosexuality is a sin.”


  • I don’t believe in a “greater good”, I believe that we are all responsible for being the best person that we can be. I think religion is a waste of time, yes. I think the world would be better off without, yes. However, if your religion is harmless, then I don’t care what you do. I only care when your religion is actively harming the world. You can’t be part of a hate group but claim to be part of a love group.


  • I think the phrase goes, “the road to hell is paved with good intentions.” It doesn’t matter what a person means. It is our actions that define us. You can be as positive as you want to be, but if you preach a message of hatred, all the lollipops in the doctors office can’t make up for the pain you cause. Claiming God’s Love is good when God’s Love means hating doesn’t make God’s Love better. It makes you worse.


  • When you say that you love me, do you mean it in the God’s Love kinda way? Or the human love kinda way?

    Cause God created hell and then told everyone to worship him, and if you don’t, you go to there. He calls that love. I don’t want that kind of love.

    To paraphrase Stephen Fry, God gives children bone cancer. I don’t want that kind of love.

    God lets those that have unabashed hate for others live in his sanctuary and preach his message. I don’t want that kind of love.

    God lets his priests sexually abuse others. I don’t want that kind of love.

    God lets wars be carried out in his name. I don’t want that kind of love.

    God destroyed Sodom and Gomorrah because of homosexuality. I don’t want that kind of love.

    You can talk about Jesus’ teachings all you like, but actions speak louder than words. The Gospel of Christ is the love of an abusive partner. Say one thing, do another. God’s love is a terrible thing, and I want nothing to do with it, and anyone who does is a coward. If, and it’s a big if, if God is real, is he the kind of God you want to worship? Seems like a waste of effort at best, and a complete betrayal of others at worse. So, go ahead, spread his love around. Just remember what kind of love it is you are spreading.




  • That’s how they get you, these… cats. Devils more like it. It’s all purring and mewing, and then Bam! one of them hits you with a head nudge. By then, it’s all over. Soon it’s the expensive food, and the water filters, and the fancy kitty litter. Before you know it, they are asking if their brother can crash on the couch. You know, just a for a few weeks. He’s got an idea, and it’s gonna be huge, like Facebook huge, but he just needs a little bit to get him off the ground. A year later you are laying in bed at 4 AM looking back on the choices you’ve made, wondering how it ever got to this point, and you feel a sharp pain in your gut. It’s one of those furry devils come to ask for more food, or to warn you about the spider it thinks it saw in the hallway, or to tell you that the vase above the TV is haunted. It doesn’t matter. You love them, anyway. You’re all theirs now. Under their spell. They call it love, but it’s spelled t-o-x-o-p-l-a-s-m-o-s-i-s.