How Things Used To Be, Or My Life As A Homeless exile

So as I was sitting here in my half collapsed base that had randomly lost stability when I logged in for the umpteenth time my mind drifted back to the glorious days of my youth.

You see, I wasn’t always the successful exile with multiple slaves and a half collapsed house, nope, I was homeless and I loved it. I would wander the wilderness, living, loving, slaying…well actually just mostly crapping on peoples lawns but the point is I was free! I was affectionately known as “that homeless guy who asks for food now and then that we sometimes find spending too much time with our goats”.

That all changed one day when I and my best girl Lucy the big horn, who incidentally I met on someones lawn, well she looked at me and I looked at her and well lets just say after that first bleating we were fast friends, but anyway I digress so back to my tale. We were wandering across the lowlands and what do I see? Glorious bags of goody’s just laying on the ground. It was fortunate too because I had all most run out of supplies.

Lucy and I ran over to the first bag giddy with excitement! What is in it I wondered aloud…food? Fresh underwear? I eagerly grabbed for the sack but some unseen force was not allowing me to pick it up! What Sorcery is this I asked Lucy who just stared blankly at me twitching slightly because her one foot was behind a rock and she couldn’t figure out how to move sideways.

I pulled and I yanked but nothing I did would budge my new found loot. Reluctantly I walked slowly away leaving behind my riches and of course my best friend Lucy because she was still stuck on the rock and when she made a mighty attempt to get free and faithfully follow me, well, she fell off a cliff.

So there I was with no loot and no best friend. I started to despair and in the depths of my sadness I realized that the gods surely must have forsaken me. I was going to have to become one of the ‘house’ people!

Over the years that followed I missed my friend Lucy and slowly resigned myself to my fate. I have heard rumors that someday I will be able to go back to my glorious homeless existence but to this day I still have not been able to pick up a single bag. So I will rebuild my crumbling house again, remember fondly my friend Lucy and wait, I actually don’t have a choice because I seem to have sunk into one of my foundations and cant move…

But that my friends is a story for another day…


I am offended by this… only aussies are allowed to make fun of kiwis. Not even kiwis are allowed to…

I love fruit!

Also known as “being in your twenties”…

I also fully support writing bug reports in prose, counterproductive though it might be if we all started doing it :smiley:

I once visited a forum. I read a post that made sense. It perfectly worded the issue at hand, and conveyed a preferred remedy. Sadly, I am insane, as is the person who wrote the post. Apparently nobody understands our words or the genius of our ideas.

I will sleep, rest until I have a grand idea. Then I shall wake, and just before I tell the world, I will forget what I was thinking.

These are the days of my life.

Without a brain, without a home.

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