kamerad

Refer to sig. Any of Bastiat's searing remarks also, but I can't copy and paste The Law here.

Professor Barding stood nearby, his cloak draped around his body and the brim of his top hat lowered over his eyes, so that he was both mysterious and forever bumping into Erma, his assistant. Exactly what he was a professor of was open to debate, but all that really mattered was that he was possibly the most odiously wealthy pony that anypony knew (which was to say anypony within five miles or so of Ponyville) and, while it could never be proven, had an obvious dislike for all things pastel and sweet and worked against sunshine and happiness with a dreadful persistence. He snorted. "Foal!" he sneered derisively, while twirling his substantial moustache around his hoof--a feat in itself: not only to have the moustache but to have mastered the ability to twirl it menacingly without the use of digits, but to anypony that knew of Professor Barding's unquenchable willpower (Erma, and she alone) it was not a surprise. "Anypony can see that carpentry is mere foalsplay! The real way forward is in metal, of course. Gears, cogs and steam!" He grinned maliciously as his verdant imagination exploded into visions of enormous towers of steel and brass, with pipes ferrying ponies as they might ferry lubricant or fuel between them and grand vessels prowling the far reaches of the heavens where pegasi dared go. It was a wonderful thing to think about--if only it were real, and not this impoverished peasant pastureland that was Ponyville. But he--yes, he!--would bring it into the modern era, kicking and screaming if he had to. Erma, who evidently never left her employer's side, nodded absently. She had heard this tirade before, and wasn't really sure if she agreed or not, but the Professor did so have a way with convincing her that she was never quite certain she'd disagreed with him in the first place or what she had thought that had made it so vital to challenge him. In fact, if you were to take a look at the outcome of all their arguments, you might have deduced that Erma was entirely of one mind with the Professor. She resigned herself to exclamations of "Quite so!" and "How wonderful!" until he should exhaust himself, which was typically quite a long time. She waited so long, in fact, that lunch threatened to pass by without either of them eating, and, finally desperate to have something approaching food (for breakfast had been so long ago and quite gone by mid-afternoon with the work in the machine shop), approached the Professor with her very best pleading, slightly damp eyes (being sure to pout, but not so much that she could not pout still more if he should refuse), and inquired of him if they might possibly get something to nibble upon, if that was quite all right with him, being as she did like to hear him talk, but could not focus any longer without sustenance--and, of course, they might chat over lunch. The Professor sighed. He could go without food or material comforts (or so he told himself) if it meant the attainment of his grandiose paradise, but he did tend to forget that lesser ponies did not have his drive to succeed--and Erma's eyes had the capacity to be so very, very large that he could not bring himself to say no to them and found himself frequently succumbing to her occassional whims--and he was quite glad that they were so infrequent, for if she should decide to usurp him and pout at the same time he should be entirely powerless to do anything about it. "That is quite enough of that, Erma!" he shouted, and cast a glance around him desperately. "I have not forgotten about you--indeed! what a preposterous thought!--and, if you should stop being so impatient, you would have noticed that I was leading us to... here!" he assured her in the same voluminous voice, gesturing pointedly at Sugarcube Corner. Erma, perking up with remarkable swiftness, smiled from ear to pointed ear. "Oh, thank you, Professor!" she exclaimed, and before he could recoil, she had kissed him on the nose and was off before he could rebuke her for her cavalier attitude. She trotted ahead of Professor Barding into the little shop, while the Professor exhaled nervously, thankful that he had escaped more of her charms and had managed to (he thought, at any rate) preserve some measure of his authority over her.

holy lol

Representatives of contrarian positions wrt the real world. Ponies: misinterpreted cutie marks.

noe

My two favourite ponies are unicorns. As a group, however, earth ponies are best.

I keep it well under control. I would get no end of flak for it from all angles, and online I don't mention it out of courtesy. However, the other day I let someone use my netbook for the Internet and came back to find "Sunshine and Celery Stalks" playing, and found out they'd played ArtAttack's remix of "Becoming Popular", too--and this in front of the rest of my squad. ._.

Homestuck is the nerdiest webcomic ever.

I dunno. There's this weird thing that everyone has to get paired off, and I don't like it. It seems obsessive. otoh I really like the idea of PinkieMac and maybe DashBurn.

I'm deploying Monday to Afghanistan. It's looking to be a ten month deployment, but I'm not going to be surprised if it's twelve. I'll try to drop in from time to time, but I don't know what my connection is going to look like.

I like turtles.

Not sure if this thread has been done before. But, of course, Trrixie!

If this makes you feel weird you're either not comfortable enough or you're way too serious. I will continue to ship Spitfire and Soarin come hell or high water.

That was far less painful than I anticipated.

115, 134 the second time. Not sure I agree with their lists of 'countries'--South Sudan and Kosovo are countries, but Transnistria and Abkhazia aren't? I demand compensation.

I'm pretty sure nopony cared all that much when they released Pinklestia.

YES i approve of all of this Sent from my C771 using Tapatalk

Dixie watched the unicorn leave, unwilling to let her go but powerless to stop her. Her eyes remained on the threshold leading from the room to the rest of the clinic, and further, out to the city and beyond, for some time, until the nurse gave her a gentle nudge. Dixie realised she'd been daydreaming, and found her hoof stuck into some sort of sleeve. She tapped it experimentally and discovered that it was firm and supportive, and that it wouldn't allow her hoof to move. "Oh," she said simply, breaking out of her unremembered reverie. "I... suppose I should get out of your mane, then." She slipped off her stool and stood, favouring her injured leg, and turned to lower herself a little on her forehooves. "Thank you," she said formally, before turning back around and limping out to the main room, where she paid the tired-looking pony on the other side of the front counter in a mechanical and somewhat awkward fashion, before stepping out to face the rest of the day. It was beginning to get dark, Dixie noticed, and she suspected the moon would be rising soon, if it hadn't already, to begin the hours of twilight. Abandoning her pursuit of the town's nightlife after some momentary consideration, she turned in what she believed to be the direction of her aunt's estate, and hobbled off to what she hoped would be a pleasant dinner and a warm bed.

But it's perfectly balanced disharmony. Discord is trolling himself.

all images will be in 1.5cm/px first, behold! the tactical pony: bases: i'll do some other stuff too perhaps, based around the idea of ponies-as-soldiers

The resultant hilarity would be reward enough.

HAI 2 U i hope you have lots of fun