Many roleplaying games encourage "stat building," where characters will increase in strength points if they stab orcs enough times, or increase in intelligence points if they think enough about a number between 1 and 400,000,000, or dexterity if they avoid incoming credit card bills. Terra World Online lets you increase in "lumberjacking" if you cut down enough trees. Now I'll be the first to admit that I didn't really look too much into the whole lumberjacking skill system, as the promise of "receiving logs" seemed wonderful enough to me, but I can only assume there are wonderful new abilities to gain when you reach around level 100 in lumberjacking. For example, you might get an extra log! Perhaps your advanced lumberjacking power grants you the ability to lumberjack at a much faster rate than people who lack as many lumberjacking points. All I know for sure is that one of the most requested features in online roleplaying games is the ability to play as a lumberjack, and Terra World Online isn't afraid to fulfill this demand.
I immediately introduced myself the moment I spotted another human, non tree-like creature. This person kept running around in circles (squares actually) and when I clicked on him, his profile said something about gold or magic chairs or something so I immediately lost interest in him. I was Kofi Annan, Secretary General of the UN! I cared not about material possessions! I grew up in Ghana, immersed in the life of poverty! Gold was of no concern to me! I walked away and began scouting the town for civilians to help and crises to avert.
I traveled north and was both shocked and appalled to discover what appeared to be a cache of deadly rockets right above a bunch of vague "A" squares. I knew something suspicious was going on here, so I threatened UN sanctions against the troop of unholy green slime mercenaries hired to guard their horrible weapons. The slimes did not respond to my threats. Well actually, they did respond by killing me, but you can't keep a good Secretary General of the UN down, so I immediately respawned roughly nine inches away, determined to continue my important work.
I soon discovered the crossroads and patiently stood beside them, waiting for folks to come by with various quarrels over territory lines and fish embargos. Some guy in tinfoil with a bloody sausage on his head ran by, so I tried to influence him to the UN by detailing how much power I had. He paused for a few seconds, giving me a chance to win him over.
As you can tell, I didn't really have much to brag about. I mean, hell, look at me; it looks like a giant bird took a steaming dump on my head. I'm a retard wearing a disco vest, holding a pimp stick, with this huge mound of bird shit on my head. If you look like that, it doesn't matter what you do in this world, folks in tin foil with bloody sausages on their heads simply won't give you the time of day.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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