Does Deathcult ever log out of HOM?

Everytime I come on Deathcult is logged on. Its weird.

He's not here now.

Screws that theory!

Yes I do, but no one really uses the one computer in the office, so if I have to leave fast, I usually just leave it logged in.

Wanker

And besides, wouldn't ya miss me?

DeathCult wrote:

And besides, wouldn't ya miss me?

Of course. Who would bring me Pina Coladas while wearing the Carmen Miranda fruit hat if you weren't here?

DeathCult wrote:

And besides, wouldn't ya miss me?

Yeah, when you do leave it logged on, its nice to know that a little Deathcult aura is still lingering.

DeathCult is, in actuality, a bot. like one of those Yahoo or Google spiders. he just has a touch more personality.

He's dedicated to this place, it's his world and he doesn't sleep he only stops to eat or use the bathroom.

mc666 wrote:

DeathCult is, in actuality, a bot. like one of those Yahoo or Google spiders. he just has a touch more personality.

Nay, I am The Lurker At The Threshold, more powerful than the all-mighty Azathoth, and wiser than the all-seeing Yibb-Tstll.

Nah, you're more like a pitiful mutant Martense spawn surviving on cannible nutrition whilst digging damnable, eldritch underground dwellings.

Huh huh huh... that was Lovecraftian.... huh huh huh, huh huh huh.

scottmitchell74 wrote:

Nah, you're more like a pitiful mutant Martense spawn surviving on cannible nutrition whilst digging damnable, eldritch underground dwellings.

Is that power metal lingo?

Could be! DC made a H.P. Lovecraft boast, so I bashed him in kind. (Lovecraft = Metal!!)

That kind of talk is as confusing as....


Silly childhood game - Uncle Wiggily
I cower in abject horror
Approaching space number 109
Home of the gaunt and haggard shell of the Skeezix
The emaciated figure
Harboring the greed of a thousand
Invading, thriving, ascaris whittles away
The self confidence of young minds
Casting doubt that they will
Ever reach the finish
To see for themselves
The segacious Uncle Wiggily
His mission now is complete
The arboreal king of misery and woe
Skeezix reposes high on a knotty forest crag
And the child still tries his best to
Stay in the game
But with insufficient, no volition
Plotted course of demolition
Goes through all the motions
Musing caveat emptor and
A predetermined failure
He draws a card and all his fears come true
Advance to 109
That's what you have to do
When Mr. Skeezix becomes Mr. Jones
Or you, or me
Just think of what it does to wreck
A child of two or three
They know and feel much more than
We will give them credit for
And all they want in life from you
Is love and nothing more
When painful eyes begin to cringe
When you walk through the door
Remember children are a gift of love
Sent from the Lord