PICKING UP MY HUSKTOP AFTER TOUCHING SOME REAL, LITERAL, BUG-INFESTED GRASS ALWAYS FEELS LIKE I'M WARPING BACK INTO THE CRATER OF AN APOCALYPTIC METEOR STRIKE. WHICH I'D SAY I'M PRETTY WELL FUCKING VERSED IN, BY NOW. IS THERE STILL ANY INTEREST IN ANOTHER ADORABLOODTHIRSTY CINEMASSACRE CLUB #ABCC #WATCHPARTY, OR IS THERE SOME *OTHER* CATACLYSM HITTING THE SITE AND PUTTING A DAMPER ON THINGS THAT I SHOULD KNOW ABOUT. BEFORE I GET OUT MY MEGAPHONE AND START SHOUTING MY BELLOWSACS OUT FROM THE RAMPARTS.
Kult: +45
Kull: +35
Total: 80
Ratio: 1.29



