My Official Resignation
Post: #1
Come One, come all, for good ol' Min is going to spin a tale of heartache and bewilderment that may cause your eyes to water.

Actually, fuck that. Writing long stories to please people takes effort. Fuck effort.
Anyways, I've discovered a new game that I'm abandoning Darkspin servers for. It's just so amazingly great that everytime I launch it in steam my pants are instantly soaked in my own semen.
I'm talking about Terraria.
I've decided that Terraria is going to be the only game that I play for the next several years and only on single player. I stole my mother's credit card and ordered a brand new PC just to make sure that I always run Terraria at it's maximum FPS.
Oh, an more good news! I threw out my old PC that I built and ordered a Mac Pro instead! Seeing as how I'm only going to play indie games for the next several years, I decided that my new PC is going to be too school for cool. They even added a Starbucks giftcard and a scarf for FREE*!

So tl;dr I'm leaving Darkspin for my new sugar daddy Re-Logic. Bye faggots.
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*With purchase of any $60 Magic Mouse or Magic Trackpadorsomeshitidunnolol














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if you took any of this seriously you need to completely re-evaluate your life.

u guys like minions ??? :exclamation:
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Post: #2
LMFAO.


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Post: #3
u fokin trash bitch
terrari fukin suks balz1!11
go hang myself bitch skurb

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Post: #4
You know, darkspin actually used to have a Terraria server. I was a Super Admin on it. Its gone sadly.

"Vogon poetry is of course the third worst in the Universe. The second worst is that of the Azgoths of Kria. During a recitation by their Poet Master Grunthos the Flatulent of his poem "Ode to a Small Lump of Green Putty I Found in My Armpit One Midsummer Morning" four of his audience members died of internal haemorrhaging, and the President of the Mid-Galactic Arts Nobbling Council, survived by gnawing one of his own legs off. Grunthos is reported to have been "disappointed" by the poem's reception, and was about to embark on a reading of his twelve-book epic entitled My Favourite Bathtime Gurgles when his own major intestine, in a desperate attempt to save life and civilization, leaped straight up through his neck and throttled his brain. The very worst poetry of all perished along with its creator, Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings of Greenbridge, Essex, England, in the destruction of the planet Earth."

Get a smaller sig. -Dragon
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