[Icey]

actually to far, please apologize.

[poop MANIAC(fecal frenzy!!!!!!!!]

I would like to make a short preface at this point. Following my last roast , I was left at something of a loss. I wondered to myself, 'where do we go from here?' I had it in my mind that what was desired of me was something of an earnest roast, but judging by the critical reception from the community at large, this was something of a misstep. So I wondered if, aside from the content of my statement, perhaps I should revise the considerations which I give to elaboration. The following is, as a result of this feedback, possessive of far more clarity and expansion than previous roasts, and is something which I hope will satisfy all parties.
Would it be that things had transpired differently. At present the note in which affairs were left remains a sour one, to I must suppose the surprise of no one. I ask not that any here put aside their preconceived notions as to the variables involved, for this is a matter I consider very near and dear to my heart and failing to consider it from angles relevant or otherwise I might say would be a disservice to the issue. There was a time in which I had given up, casting my hands to the sky as a silent plea to the world that there might be some way to reverse the course of time and choose a different path, but such thoughts and wonderings are a pointless endevour leading no closer to a solid resolution. Perhaps in the far-spun future such a pining may yet bear fruit, but I digress. What this case ultimately boils down to is the vast inifinity of choice and potential, and how that potential relates to the human tendancy for waste. Sameness as it relates to this topic would be considered an aspect of that waste, in being that to tread the same ground would be to waste opportunity and, by extension, potential.
I wasn't quite sure this day would come. I wasn't sure what to say. Hell, I didn't even know if I could really go through with it all again. But, with the passage of time, all things change, and all things come full circle. I once came here with an open heart, eager to learn and eager to please, and once, on that fateful thread post, I learned so much from this community, so much I'll never forget; I was, all at once, illuminated, and at the same time, completely in the dark. So perhaps it is too much to ask for, but might we collectively, for just one thread, look beyond the obfuscations of times past, deliberate or otherwise?
I've always tried to mix things up when they don't work, to learn from my mistakes and incorporate them into a wider narrative of life which might in the future lead to success and understanding.Thing's are different, they always are, aren't they? But this time, based on the overwhelmingly negative reception to my last roast and reinvention of the self, I will attempt to return to my roots, and endevour to improve upon the traditions established. And so the common road we follow has brought us together once again.
Now, I know what you're probably asking yourself: Whose this twenty-year-old kid, coming in from the cold dark outside, sitting in front of you with a chip on his shoulder and his bleeding heart on his sleeve? Some of you on the deathrun server may know a certain 5w33t b34n5. On the murder server, maybe the name grubbly sqeeuzums might ring a bell. I've gotten to know a lot of you on prophunt as poop MANIAC. On the discord, maybe in the past you've heard the name elastic andy's static shock rock candy. I would imagine not. And in the Dinkleberger forum community, you may remember hatred darkness evilheart madkiller.
But a few of you, from a time far off and long ago may remember a certain identity. A mask buried to the sands of time, lost in the foggy haze of memory and decayed into a distant, ancient history. Perhaps, from dreams long past in an era forgotten, some of you may remember the titled, yellow named Senior Member known as the mad shitter.
Please, allow me to introduce myself. My name is John Michael Jones, my friends call me Fiddlesticks Mike, and this is my apology to Icey. I am someone of modest wealth, and what some may politely consider unconventional tastes. You may not remember my humble person, but let me say I have remembered you. I've been around for a long, long year, and I have heard from you. Felt your presence. Walked among your kind. Learned from your peoples and their wisdoms. And while it has been the common judgement that I may be far from understanding you, I believe I have come to something of a functional groundwork for a mutualistic relationship; or, at the very least, uneventful, serene coexistance, for that is always what I have sought, regardless of my own shortcomings.
Now, it is my understanding that as an incorrigible anticitizen, everything I say must be taken in bad faith and assumed to be obfuscation if not outright deception. The fact that I assert my words are context of my honest thoughts must therefore be evidence that whatever I say is nothing but lies and slander, and so it would naturally be in the best interest of the reader to stop here, if not already, and proceed with the comments of disapproval and the demand for further punitive action. It is only natural, of course, that a person of such low moral stature and warped view of reality as myself must be at every point an aberrant liar; it is the judgement of the many, and must therefore be the most accurate representation of reality, and so the natural course of action would be to dismiss every word I have said and may say and continue with whatever expression of disdain may gather the reader's fancy. All is as it should be, the world exists in the best state that it can. Thus it shall be the natural order and Universalist Understanding of all things.
Friends, gamers, terrorists, this is my story. On the night of 7/1/2022, an irreperable, inoperable paradigm shift descended upon the dark corners of my bilious life. In breaking my word I let down all the people who had cheered me on, everyone rooting for my success and violated intimately the trust placed in my faculties. Instead of staying open to the love I recieved from those who had been so kind as to offer me their friendship, my mind's eye focused on the negativity and hate with which I had been rightfully cloaked. I failed. Not just myself, but I failed the people who cared. And it wasn't the failure that was so hard. No, it's been living with that failure, that empty feeling deep in the pit of my stomach that gnaws at my soul. Knowing I let everyone down, that's the hard part.
I could be frank with you. I could apologize. I could tell you I've learned from the experience, that things are different, that the offending instance would never happen again. I could expand upon my reasoning, tell you why I did what I did, why I'll never do it again. How it broke my heart, and why things turned out the way they did; I could elaborate on my motivations, expand upon my emotions, and assert my beliefs and how they are different from how they used to be. But experience tells me that is a lost cause, a fools errand. There is nothing I could say or do that could convince you otherwise, no expression of my heart which could possibly change your own, and perhaps that is fair, and well enough. I had at one time believed that perhaps I had been, all this time, so very very wrong, about everything, about everyone. Perhaps I still am; what is important, I feel, is that I do not pretend otherwise, and that I hold no pretense of clinging to falsehoods. In any case, I have been strongly discouraged from change, and from new beginnings, so I will swallow my tongue on the matter and leave that part of my soul hidden from view. I have spoken at length about such things, and it has been insisted upon that such revelations will forever elude me, and that it is my inexorable fate to forever be posessed of stagnant, evil spirit. I will not contest this, for I know that good faith is something which I am not afforded, for reasons which I believe I understand, but it is my understanding that such understanding will be understood to be falsehood, and it is not my desire to cast aspersions to anothers character by provoking irascibility through asserting that evaluations of my own character have been inaccurate. It is fair to say that, from a certain point of view, no man is wrong in his beliefs, and I understand that most if not all of my fellows are only acting in accordance to their experience, and, as they are of noble spirit and good heart unlike myself as I have been made to understand, would not deliberately do so in bad faith; there is much to be learned, even from a view which one may consider incorrect at best, and downright abhorrant at worst. I have always tried to stray away from casting such judgement upon my fellows, and have considered such judgement to be if not downright malicious than misguided, but I realize this is a flawed and immediately ironic view to hold and as such would not seek to apply it beyond the realms of the conceptual, and perhaps should consider it itself to come from a point of bad faith; it is thus that it likely should not be applied in practice, and suppressed in theory.
We cannot, as a rule, control the perceptions of our fellow man. This is my understanding, though perhaps some may possess this skill and indeed there are examples which one may consider to be contrary to this rule throughout recorded history, and surely beyond that. Perhaps it is something reserved only for an enlightened few, as I have been instructed, something to be born with and beyond the grasp of the wicked, licentious, unrighteous and dreggedly villeins of the world; the notion of caste is something which appears time and time again and so perhaps should be always considered. That there are those which are born to be contemptuous, and those which are born to righteous pride, and these two manners of livelihood coexist and conflict in ceaseless imbalance, and perhaps may overlap in infinite variations and degree. There is no rebirth, no change and no rebalance; there is what is, and what isn't, and there is nothing which can change one to another. To consider the point of view of the other side must therefore be erroneous, if not another point of malice, and so it is from where I must understand that my own faults must stem; to consider all to be right, to apply to my fellow man the rule of moral relativism, and to make the assumption that all are, in their own way, correct, even if only to themselves, must therefore be a point of evil, and so to want to hear their voice must be another of such sort. Such considerations for the unique perspectives of other men within the great fellowship of humanity that we all share are, as I have learned from my superiors in the community, a moral failing.
When our esteemed Donor gabe created this roast thread, it was perhaps inevitable that I would enter the public chamber with an aura of vile ichor and reduce proceedings into a festival of shit. I have taken a jovial, light hearted pastime and assault poor Icey with a pustulous diatribe of malicious beration, and taken from our fair thread from a direction of fraternal banters into a realm of unabashed hatred and melangerous candor. The last statement of the sixth page has seen exceptional and not unwarrented controversy. I have seen secret dialogues, spoken in hushed whispers behind closed doors, where no peeping Thomases were meant to spy. I have peered glimpses into the forbidden depths with borrowed eyes, and seen the true thoughts of the periphery. I now have insight into the depths of my own error, and the impact it has had on our poor poor moderator.
I have always in the past believed that you are a new person every hour; the infinite millions of variables which determine mood, thought and action change an infinite number of times in the infinite supply of time which expands infinitely. From my fellow man I now know this to be flawed; we are fated to be who we are, and fated to be so indefinitely. So, refusing to take the idea of a change of heart in good faith, perhaps may you consider it from a point of practicality? I realize that I am the heart of evil, and that I am sus; surely my actions have shown this, and the failure to recognize such, rather than attempt rebirth, on sooner terms is my own. So it is my request to consider the matter from the punitive standpoint. I have, at the time of this writing, made my foule statement 52 minutes ago, breaking Icey's heart for a failing which I have been assured I do not regret, and have at every turn been rebuked from making my case for periods of exponential increase. Since I must be lying when I say I am sorry, then perhaps the case may be made that time served can equate to punishment delivered, that is to say that punishment is thus far in proportion to crime; for reference as to the logic of such a point, consider the Catholic purgatory. The realm of ash and dust is where a sinful soul, if not outright cast into hell, must go to burn off impurity and shed the weight of sin. It is the supposition proposed that if not burned of sin completely, my soul has completed an apt degree of penance and is thus prepared to rejoin wider society in the promised land. It is clearly not enough to be loathed by the persons whom (barring a certain few), following my return after my initial roast post, were asserted to be the ones whom were the antithesis of the concept of toxic; to be met upon such a sick burn with outright disdain, disgust, and undisguised contempt for my own every thought and suggestion was surely the right course of action, for it was the reality of the situation, and to contest with reality must surely be to contest with what is right, and with instances to the contrary so few in number and so often the vast minority it must be fair to assume that the statistical outlier is precisely such, and as an extension merely bad actors acting in conjunction with my own dark machinations. So following a state which I have at this point rationalized as lashing against wrongfully perceived injuries against my person, I have thus been in this state of limbo, and have stayed silent for a time equalling to, at the time of this publication, three thousand one hundred and twenty-one seconds, and so since surely I must be speaking from bad faith when I assert that I regret what I did, or when I endevour to initiate a fresh start, with a clean slate and a fresh perspective, I shall make the argument that I have indeed served my time and that motion of forgiveness at this point would be a reasonable suggestion. However, what I have at times considered reasonable suggestions have been revealed to me through expressions from the respected bodies as disgusting, profane aberrations of all good sense and common decency, the mere suggestion of which deserving immediate punitive action, so I would understand if such a suggestion at this juncture might be considered similarly.
In the past I have always sought to match the expectations laid upon my feet. Since my final roast, when first I made my assault on Icey's personage I asserted in the clearest terms I Could engender that I understood what I did wrong, that I regretted my mistake and that I was truly sorry; Among other criticisms, it was asserted to me that I was not, and never would be, and so realized that expressions of this manner were not what was desired of me. So in consideration of the criticisms levelled against my apology and against my person, I endevoured to follow a different path, one of brevity, one of a clean slate and an utterly new beginning. Thinking, surely, this would match the demands placed upon my person, I posted this new roast in utter confidence, but I realized soon after I was wrong. I was, in this time, shown the things said behind closed doors, in secret channels believed to be hidden from the prying public eye, and I know to some degree the true, private opinions held in regard to my person by certain members. But it is not the object of this statement to assert blame onto another; I realize the fault was entirely mine in rising to the bait, and that were my own character honest and clear I would never have fallen to conspiracies. And so I despaired.
It was expressed to me that the past is alive, and guarded zealously, and that the object of a clean, blank slate was not shared between myself and the punitive body. I had wondered if perhaps I had expressed myself inadequately, gone one roast too far, and sought to expound upon my thoughts, and to understand better the judgements delivered to me, and unfortunately my contemptable ignorance provoked further punitive response to counter roast my person. So I thought well enough, and interpreted that perhaps the stasis of all things was what was required of me, but then the conflict arose that indeed it was myself as a person which had aroused such expressions of disgust and disdain from my roast peerage, and so perhaps rather than a fresh start it was desired of me to return to that which I had emerged from, only with more of one half and reduction of the other, and to follow this with even more merciful brevity and simplification of the oratory for which I had always been so despised; this, evidently, was not the case, and so I was remanded to my prison of epic fail for a further several hours. And so I despaired. I have always tried to keep an open mind, and to recieve the criticisms of my prosecutors with full understanding, and so better myself by the judgements of my superiors and peers, and in this I have evidently failed, and so now make a return to my roots.
I am very, very sorry Icey.

[dong]

Try not to post an essay challenge (impossible)

[Norm Minder]

Dong try to not die first and not cry in amongus challenge (Impossible) (failed 5 times in 3 minutes)

[Wrom]

Norm try not to fuck with the lights and throw the game Challenge [Impossible]

[Gabe]

Buzzkill

[EpicGuy]

Since resigning from his position of Admin, all he does is post stupid crap on the forums that riles up some of the members, or he'll post obvious bait that people eat up in an attempt to make the forums a more toxic place for everyone. He doesn't play on the server often so he shouldn't even be posting anything in the first place because he's not on the frontlines like the rest of us TRUE GAMERS. He thinks he's funny when in reality, he's just your average troll trying to be funny but failing EPICLY.

Note: I like Gabe.

[Damien]

No Sexual Advances on EpicGuy's TTT.

[poop MANIAC(fecal frenzy!!!!!!!!]

nightcrawler

[Gabe]

actual brony