This is Miname. Well, not really. But Miname is so deep and complex, so heavily ingrained--Miname is a thought process. You don't see Miname. You become Miname. Need a physical application to apply to this idea of inhuman proportions? One word:
That's right. Smoke the cocaine and you too will experience wildly fLuCtUaTiNg LeTtErS. Guess Miname's gender. That's right--YOU CAN'T. You don't even know what this thing is. It's kind of girly and molestable. It has a manly musk. It has that innate need to be protected. It just Squared your Battle.
If it is a girl, CHECK OUT THAT HUGE RACK ON MINAME. It's so huge, her boobs squish her own face. Breasticles not your thing? No problem, Sada is as flat as a board. Check and mate. That means you can play Chess on it.
DOES THAT BOOB HAVE SUNGLASSES? YOU BET YOUR SWEET ZAUHARANT IT DOES.
Oh, what's that? You're a chair, you say? Miname will throw you so hard you won't even know what's going on. I defy you to tell me why you're being thrown. Piece of crap chair.
Lastly, she leads a guild called Empire. That's right, I said she. What, are you going to argue it or something? Bring one point to the table that I haven't seen you touch yourself to under the very same table and I'll consider it. Anyway, Empire. You know what Empires do? They suck in all the joy and happiness in life around them, beat it into the ground, and then claim their houses. You know you like winning, just like Charlie Sheen. Miname is Charlie Sheen.
SIGN THE HELL UP
You expect me to name all of these loyal mothertruckers? Hell no.
Edited by Kazu731, 22 March 2012 - 11:32 AM.