Dirk
@ponyPal
Philanthropist. Read all of my messages at face value and make no attempt to discern deeper meaning or otherwise read between the lines. If nobody stands by me, I stand by me.
Everyone's all about horses until it ain't about their soft mane and flowing tail anymore. Life isn't all braiding and fairy knots, dude, sometimes you've got to take that guy by the bucking hind quarter and tenderly peel the overgrown hoof from around an impeding pebble. If you're unable to handle a true dedication to your craft, then get the fuck out of the proverbial paddock and let the real men work.
Violating the sacred naming convention is cull-worthy on Alternia, so I've heard, in my circles of mildly prejudice and speculative humans. If you even test out a seven letter name, get ready to be another inglorious statistic in the numbers game of hierarchy-sanctioned deaths. Going for five? Head in hands, literally. They pulled out the bone saw just for you. If there's another social taboo I can portray as archaic, beastly, and violent to the point of comedy, let me know.
wwhat isnt cull wworthy on alternia highbloods nevver really needed reasons for cullin any givven lowwblood
hovw it felt. truly…
Did you feel anything?
Exuberant joy and the wet trail of a single tear slipping out of my eye. Frankly majestic, there's not enough words in the dictionary capable of describing just how I felt.
Nuff said about Greek horses and the little bit mindspace they occupy in all of us. Hippocampus to hippocampi, there's a sea stallion curled into our temporal lobes, beatin' its hooves against your thoughtspace with an impossible, incongruous rhythm. Get it?
Sure. Only one of us is followin' the other, but it's cool. This is mutual, bro. Barnacle for barnacle, let's both leech off each other.
yeah but thats like… your vwhole brand. right. its your brand bro.
Hold on, man. Belt your pants down, I'm gonna knock those guys clean off, if only for a second.
best second ewver. bros for life, SON.
What a 8eautiful work of art, Dirk of the ponyPal account!
Just Dirk works. The illusion of privacy has been long since shattered. Turns out, nobody wants to *play ball* when you're donning a mask and pretending to be a secondary guy. Weird, that. Isn't that fucked up? Having your whole plan uprooted just for the comfort of the peanut gallery? Hmm.
Okay, Just Dirk! :::;D
Didn't even acknowledge my tongue in cheek references. Alright. I'll take my own and pack it up.
Hehehehe. I am messing with you. I acknowledge your references with great reverence. Can't talk here, message me on the Jeremy Renner app.
Looking out for good news after his snowcat accident. Fingers crossed.
This is completely not serious, I say, grindin' my knuckle against my thigh with enough force to kick start an annoying, but aptly named, Charley horse. I am so completely and utterly mellowed out by the series of events that transpire perpendicular to me, that discussing how levelheaded and serene I am proves both inefficient and redundant. It's starting to cool down, in my neck of the woods. Time marches on regardless of our input, soldiers in a straight line of progression, endlessly advancing with no opportunity for tightly placed arrows in sparsely fallible regions. The air cools to a tepid burn, a balm against the heat lathe I had been bore against for the duration of summer. The more things change, the more I recall how people change, too. Regardless of input, the world turns, the clock ticks, your bro mysteriously stops being interested in counting how many times he can get punched in the family jewels before he gets dizzy, the leaves change. Remember how people used to unironically tune into the Superbowl for the commercials, dogg? Nowadays, you'd get your ass laughed off the bus for sayin' you're really into puppy monkey baby, or that Doritos commercial where they're playin' on a swingset, but there used to be guys who went to work and announced that. No shame, no fear. Yeah, I like capitalism. Loud and proud. The first to be promoted to executive beheader, under the clown regime's initial rise to power, but still. Cringe guys all around. Remember that? You can't do that anymore. But wasn't that wild? Times change. Crazy.
sure, man.
im going to pretend like i didnt read any of that.
What brand of engagement is this supposed to be? Like, what is this saying?
its effectively just me going "i aint reading allat. happy for you. or sorry it happened. or whatever." except i actually did read the post.
Sometimes, a casual couple of clicks to the react buttons are adequate enough acknowledgement that you skimmed the content contained inside. You tried, pig, you tried, now go around out to the back of the barn and get ready for Big Papa's hand axe.
yes, but i also considered it funny to type all of that. so really, i dont care. it also culminated in the thing you just said, which is equally humorous to me. so thanks for being good at being funny.
Peep the new banner. Followers will be pleased to know that everything here is produced in house, no outsourcin' construction elsewhere. Let me know your thoughts.
It really makes me feel the underlying fury painted 8eneath your skin. Lovely!
HOW WONDERFUL.
@craftsmanToxophilite
8=D < I highly appreciate being tagged in this 8=) < The stompies that shake the whole image are lovely
The sheer amount of ectobiological offspring allegedly produced by the genes of my weaker willed doubles and DNA doppelgangers is, frankly, sickening. Needless to say that anyone cursed to bare my direct lineage is fucked right from the get-go. Crippled at the starting gate. The flare fires, the horn sounds, and that mofo just instantly starts limpin' backwards. Doomed to fail, fundamentally. Sad to see, bro. Genuinely. There's no mercy in your sad, depraved heart if you let that thing fledge.
The difference between my replies and your replies, bro.
Pack it up. We got the clown squad rolling in now, ready to squirt their dink-ass flowers at me from across the road.
Nothin' says let me stick a thumb up my ass and talk about dick all like consistently pointing out the number of splinters, alternates, doubles, and ghosts, one particular brand of guy might have. If it were up to me, we'd play fruit merge on these dudes, adding up similar iterations until we inevitably had just a handful of outcomes.
For the record, the last post doesn't apply to me. I'm different and unique, and the center of every feasible universe. To know me is to love me, and to love me is to revere every word I leave as an inconsiderate footnote on your day. The ache of my stifling hoofprint will fade, but the scar of my presence will remain. Such is life in my peripheral. Ashes to ashes.
CW: narcissism, self-aggrandizement, gratuit9us metaph9rs I think the m9st impressive part 9f this is that y9u managed t9 spend an entire paragraph ann9uncing that y9u are imp9rtant with9ut 9nce pr9viding a c9mpelling reas9n why. "Different and unique" is particularly inspired. I supp9se c9ngratulati9ns are in 9rder f9r disc9vering that y9u are an individual pers9n. I am sure the revelati9n was quite pr9f9und. And the h99fprint metaph9r was a l9vely t9uch. N9thing says "I have an appr9priately measured sense 9f self-imp9rtance" quite like c9mparing y9ur presence in 9ther pe9ple's lives t9 an indeli6le scar. Ashes t9 ashes, indeed. Prefera6ly the ashes 9f this p9st, 9nce it has 6een cremated f9r the pu6lic g99d.
CW: Haterismz, anti-horse sentiment, ableism. Dead dove ahead. Do not read. Oh, dope. For a second I was nervous there. I thought my post admonishing the self-importance placed on display by plotless side characters would go unengaged with by members of that particular party, but you turned up at the last minute to prove me wrong. I stroke your cheek tenderly and clasp my hands together. Gee, every wish fulfilled? Santa is helping Dirk eat good tonight. Anyway, my favorite part of this whole paragraph is that you fundamentally fumbled the callout, dogg. Ragging on me for my post-ironic sense of individualism makes you look mad silly right now. Pride cometh before the fall, but I have yet to be knocked off kilter. Firmly saddled. My high horse's knees refuse to buckle. Everything I say about myself and others is empirically true, because I am a better knower of me and a better knower of you than anyone else. You can trot the exterior of my fence, try to get a peak inside the barn to see how this magic happens, but it ain't happening. You're one of the herd. You aren't allowed in. I don't allow myself out. You're fucked.
CW: narcissism, equine-related metaph9rs, intellectual arr9gance, c9ndescensi9n I think y9u may have accidentally dem9nstrated my p9int m9re th9r9ughly than I ever c9uld. Y9u have spent this entire resp9nse insisting that y9ur percepti9n 9f y9urself is inherently infalli6le while simultane9usly declaring that y9ur percepti9n 9f every9ne else is equally infalli6le, which is a truly spectacular am9unt 9f c9nfidence t9 place in a 6rain that apparently c9nsiders self-assurance s9me kind 9f su6stitute f9r evidence. Empirical truth generally requires s9mething slightly m9re su6stantial than ann9uncing that y9u have app9inted y9urself its f9rem9st auth9rity. And I am afraid y9ur extensive 6arnyard alleg9ry d9es n9t make this any m9re c9nvincing. Y9u have 6uilt a fence, l9cked y9urself inside, declared y9urself the s9le auth9rized kn9wer 9f the c9ntents, and then apparently c9ncluded that this makes the c9ntents 96jectively unkn9wa6le. Als9, if y9ur high h9rse's knees have yet t9 6uckle, I rec9mmend giving them time. Even the m9st 9verw9rked animal eventually gets tired 9f carrying s9me9ne wh9 insists they are t99 imp9rtant t9 dism9unt.
CW: ableism, flag on the play, intentional sandbagging. Right. There's a handful of words I can deploy here to help illustrate my point better, but the obvious one sittin' here is just. Duh. Fuckin' duh, man. I am intentionally trouncin' your ass with the insufferable proclamations of my own arcane knowhow and infinite knowledge springs, and I feel like if I don't clarify that now, Doctor Dullittle the animal practitioner of cow turds and constipated bullshit, is gonna circletalk us into Dante's next ring of Hell. Your adherence to my biography is admirable. You really don't extrapolate any other meaning from what I'm saying, thanks, but come on. The subtext is right there. I'm too good to explain myself. I'm a thoroughbred in a field of mutt horses waitin' for the glue factory. I am the pinnacle, the apex, the rider. You fail to deconstruct it outside of the handwaved "nuh uh", because I provide you no purchase for your nails to dig into. So, anyway. This leaves us with an interesting conundrum, right? I, too numerous in my achievements to describe them all, unwilling to whip it out and egowank just to watch you move the goalposts. And you, the bronze place winner in ragebaiting, unwilling to grandstand for your worth, presumably wise to the fact that I, too, would alter the rules of our game to assure my own victory. Hmm. Using narcissism as an armchair diagnosis is a huge faux pas these days, by the way. Watch out, junior. Someone is going to think you're asleep, and not woke at all.
I have c9me t9 the realizati9n that y9u were never arguing in g99d faith. That is, admittedly, c9nsidera6ly m9re irritating than anything y9u have actually said. I have 6een treating this as th9ugh there were an argument here t9 dismantle, when apparently the entire purp9se 9f the p9st was t9 manufacture exactly the resp9nse I gave y9u. The a6surd declarati9ns, the deli6erately indefensi6le claims, the increasingly ela69rate h9rse metaph9rs -- y9u were n9t attempting t9 esta6lish a p9siti9n. Y9u were dangling 9ne in fr9nt 9f me t9 see whether I w9uld 6ite. And I did. Quite th9r9ughly, apparently. Which als9 explains why every9ne else had the g99d sense t9 leave y9u screaming inside y9ur metaph9rical 6arn while I apparently wandered in carrying a sh9vel and 9ffered t9 help y9u dig. S9 c9ngratulati9ns, I supp9se. Y9u successfully 6aited me. I w9uld like t9 clarify, h9wever, that this d9es n9t make y9ur 9riginal p9st clever. It is, h9wever, effective rage6ait. Th9se are n9t rem9tely syn9nym9us. Y9u c9nstructed an argument specifically s9 that n9 meaningful engagement with it c9uld 9ccur, then c9ngratulated y9urself when I attempted t9 engage with it meaningfully. Apparently the rest 9f the feed knew 6etter than I did and appr9priately did n9t resp9nd. I w9uld call it humiliating 6ut unf9rtunately this kind 9f issue is c9mm9n f9r me. At times pe9ple make a game 9ut 9f it. Call it a pr9f9und ina6ility t9 grasp s9cial cues, I supp9se. Every9ne else rec9gnized what y9u were d9ing immediately, and I was apparently t99 6usy writing a dissertati9n a69ut the structural integrity 9f y9ur imaginary 6arn t9 n9tice the fucking h9rse was 6ait.
((hate that i cant edit my replies. i fucked up a metaphor. ignore the bit about the shovel. forgot to complete it))
Your first mistake was seein' a dude's confidence as something to earnestly deconstruct. Your second mistake was coming onto this post with no clear tactic for victory in mind. Hannibal didn't lead his elephants to war for shits and giggles, bro, come on now. The horse was bait. You fell for it. See my pinned post for more details.
Listen, some of you guys are just gonna have to accept that your impact on the universe is minimal. There are dudes out there born to make a mark and cement themselves in history, but the majority will sadly only leave scuffs in their wake. Rubbery post-images of where your high-school sneaker once was, before you did that sweet drop'n'turn by the ballhoop and scored an easy three pointer for the team. Little else. Nothing wrong with that, innately, but. Like. Dude. You can't waltz your happy ass out here and pretend to be the main character. You're barely an NPC.
mr moody over here prob got rejected by a girl
Sharp swords and sharper words are dulled against the thick skulls of average reductionists. I think we both know there's exterior factors at play that prevent that specific instance from happening, but I have a feeling that speaking to you any longer than necessary would be the equivalent of thanking Google for helping you with your seventh grade math homework. Obsolete.
Cosmically correct, and yet worrisome in projection. What an interesting combination.
Everyone hates a guy who speaks the truth. This is nothing new. Take it back to the Biblical era.
Are you interpreting my agreement as hatred? That's remarkably preemptive and defensive.
I'm interpreting us as peers in a sea of small fry who nibble the dead skin off my feet when I stop looking. I think our understanding of this concept makes us both feel neither hatred nor elation, but a secret third thing.
Thank you, Dirk. Where my ego was beginning to inflate, you've kindly brought it back to where it belongs: middling within an oroborous, continuous by cannibalizing the other's wisdom and feet.
She's literally niceies, I guess. Keen eyed viewers at home might notice that this type of spider scene is typically indicative that a real slaughter fest is about to happen, but, like. She's literally nice, so it doesn't matter. Can we all just agree to shrug our shoulders and look away? She's nice.
.webp)
999h. Uhm. #TW #NSFW #Distur6ing
Aw! Thank you for this wonderous drawing Dirk of the @ponyPal account! Your kind words truly warm my pusher and 8ring a smile to my face. ::::D
Eyeroll. It is MY drawing, Kankri. Please evacu8te the premises.
Is the #nsfw tag just along for the ride or what. This is a horse, bro. Try not to besmirch my creation with your potty mouth and dirty mind, you rube.
I have the same rights as y9u d9 9n y9ur drawing.
This is clearly unsav9ry f9r the w9rkplace.
horsie :D shes litrally so nice
No you don't. Not if you clearly don't appreci8te artistic interpret8tion since you are so quick to la8el this as Not Safe For Work.
Done. Tusk style, for the record. I've horrifically reconfigured the existence of a weaker guy into something more malleable and appealing to me and my purposes. Remember, bros, don't drink. You leave yourself vulnerable. One day, you might wake up and be unable to recognize yourself in the mirror.
lay it on me, bro.
Hop on Gorgle. Tusk (2014), punch it in. Click over to images. Let me know if you get my inspiration.
What!!!! Can I have a pony? ::::(
i knovw vwhat it is man, i got knovwledge, im vwell wversed in human mowvies. i totally get your reference point, truly, could be more gruesome but hey, you did you thing. you feel me? haha. #knovwvwhatimean #cool
I will change everything that you are, and you will never even know all your pieces have been replaced until you're a whole new dude.
I'm generally pretty opposed to who you are as a person due to my preconceived notions and various hang ups, but, like. Fuck it. Sure. If I'm entertaining the plecos that suckle the moss from slimy stones, then I can humor the other dregs of society too. Hold while I work, I guess.
thats pretty svweet actually. youd go through all that for me? vwovw, vwe just met… im flattered, really.
I am literally niceies. Thank you!
You, at a coffee shop: I hope I can get a black coffee today. Guy directly in front of you in line: Let me go ahead and tell you my life story. My wife is fuckin' the mailtroll and the only thing that can help me cope is addin' 12 shots of caramel to a non-biodegradable cup of bullshit. Dude behind you: I'm gonna blow up the bathroom right before someone else needs to use it, I've been saving this toe curler since last night. Guy behind the counter: This cock cage is turning my shit purple.
Oh ye of little relevancy, who fear those who operate beyond the feeble confines of our perception. You're probably safe.
"I made the decision to be kind instead of being mean". Your steer from villainy is so superficial that you feel the compulsive need to have the internet at large egowank your decisions.
...bad day?
hm. well, yoU'll have to forgive me for being a bit concerned by sUch direct expressions of misanthropy! o~o bUt checking throUgh yoUr chittr, this seems to be rather baseline, so i'll back off.
i did! they're delightfUl. ^u^ jane's was qUite silly!!
There is no such thing as "8eing horny" you are a 8ad person.
yes to both.
Well, I'm glad we're on the same page about me. But really? On this website?
Why spend hours pouring yourself into verbiage, when one can simply make visual their adoration? Words wouldn't do my appreciation justice anyway. Necessity is the mother of invention. Thanks for being my first fan, Jane.
Boo. Are you tellin' me I have to conceal the dagger in my cloak another day? Are you telling me I have to wait for the next time to strike, a phantom in the opera box, a general's unused Pandorian vessel, a villain offscreen? Seriously?
Yes i am in fact telling you that! Sorry to burst your bubble chap but you are fresh out of luck today.
Truly what a pity, i am feeling so much pity for you that you cannot kick me when im down.
Laying down and taking the punches is not a tussle, for the record. This entire thread is a masterclass in your submission.
I will show off these mitts and my very own one two punch in a separate scenario! Mark my words.
The fisherman seeks his big quarry, if only to feel the beast thrash against his rod. Good luck, junior.
There is no rod near my beast or whatever the flipping hell you said just now at all i can assure you that. Only the gun show and a penchant for roughhousing.
Alright, so, crash course on Chittr culture and what it means to be a numbers-obsessed energy vampire. Episode 1, chapter 1: Plato's allegoony of the cave. The users of Chittr are aroused not by the presence of actual contact, but by the illusion of it. (See pictured: the ignorant dipshit manhandles himself to the implication of someone else's pleasure, despite no evidence that a second person is legitimately engaging in any kind of fondle exercises.) Really makes you think, right?
