Toff Ornelos

Really old gamer's page

206 posts. Alias of Sissyl.


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You guys had FIRE???

I am also beautiful and know it.

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*falls asleep and snores on*

Dinners? I had some dinners... Once. Those were the days...

Did I tell you about the dinner I had with the flapjacks?

Flapjacks... I used to hate flapjacks. My friend loved them. He was always dressed in a vest.

*falls asleep again*

*suddenly, uneexpectedly, is done eating*

*falls asleep*

You had to say it, dincha?

*sighs deeply and munches thoughtfully on more prunes and gruel. The potted plant nearby is looking a bit pale*

*adds to the shields with more stinking cloud*

Still no takers for flipping the golem over?

"Where do you keep that, then?"

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*watches the elemental rays wither and fizzle as they hit the wall of prune-induced stinking cloud*

"Hehh that's a good one, golem. Keep trying. And beware of the prune!"

"Btw, free prunes for flipping the golem over."

*carefully tosses a prune to land on the back of Uncle Teddy's helmet*

"Hey, golem! What's that on Uncle Teddy's helmet? Was that invited?"

*puts more prunes on the gruel and eats*

*waits until the cute little yellow dude gets up again, and hands him some sloppy, fragrant prunes*

*casts still stinking cloud centered on himself*

*sits and eats a bowl of gruel and prunes*


That reminds me of a good story...



The next poster will have to tell us the story.

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Some people take stuff like this to be an excuse to... well, you know. Just like the time I was in Boston. Let me tell you, it was a long time ago. The Statue of Liberty hadn't been built yet. And there I was, and along comes a young woman, and she's carrying a ladder. So I ask her what the ladder is for, and she asks me to hold the ladder for her while she climbs up and checks something up on the roof. I think it was about gulls or something. I used to hate gulls...

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Back in MY day, clerics didn't GET their class abilities until second level.

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*massacrates the last of the zombies*

*is entirely drenched in blood and rotten tissue scraps*

Yeah. Now GET OFF MY LAWN!!!

*sees the zombie remains not getting off his lawn*


*takes out his two mini-chainsaws, revs them up, and goes to work on the zombie horde*

...we fought encounters like 5-50 nixies. In the town square. And we liked it, dammit.

Yes. Truly awful. Kids these days, huh?

Derp losers???

Well, they are expensive, but it is just so worth it to keep at the forefront of technological advancement.

Who you calling superhero and being ironic? Eh? I will have you know I killed fifty men in the Great War! Funny about that... Let's see now, we were in, um, somewhere in Alabama, fighting hard against the... *headscratch* the thugees, and... um. Did you know I won the state lottry once?

The next poster didn't.

*long, rambling rant about how typewriters are dangerous and are going to destroy our society*

Pffft. You guys had it easy. Little piddly megafauna... Yeah, take down a T-rex, like we had to. That's why we're all doomed, nobody takes on a challenge anymore.

Hmph. The sheer nerve, using this of all threads to recruit!

Muckle darmed cultists.

Yep... that was no fun, lemme tell yous.

The next poster has an objection.

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Cantankerous Old Grognard wrote:
Ye Olde Timey Captain Yesterday wrote:

It was 70 here, once.

Can't say I remember it, I bet it was magical.

Oh, I remember that day. It was a Tuesday in August, of course Augustus Caesar having not yet taken control of the Roman Empire and it having been the country now called America, we called it Sitting Bull day, because I don't know that many Native American leaders, and so I'll have to settle for an anachronism in order for this story to work. We had just taken the land back from the Dire Wolves, who had in the previous year hunted down all of our Mastodons, and of course had speed on their side in addition to strength. I had gathered all the dog hunters, and I'm gonna be honest with you if you're still following me at this point in the story, I really can't tell you where I'm going with this joke, but I'm gonna try and press on because it's par for the course with this alias to make a long, rambling story that doesn't really go anywhere, in a sort of a Grampa Simpsons spoof, which, if I recall correctly, is occasionally sprinkled with jokes from Professor Farnsworth of Futurama and Stan's grandfather in South Park. I got the idea originally when I used to say, without an alias of course, because this was before I started using aliases for jokes a long time ago, you see, and I would say things like "Well back in my day, elf was a class, and we liked it!" I did this to ridicule old grognards for their pathetic reminiscence of editions that without the rose colored glasses of nostalgia aren't as good as they think they are. Well, one day someone made a reply about goblin kids skateboarding on my lawn, and I went with a full blown story reply in this fashion, and later, at some point in which I forget, because my memory is hazy, and I don't actually remember most of the things I'm saying in this story, I copied and pasted that story under this alias. It was popular at the time, and this was nice, because I had not yet made the name I apparently have of late, and it encouraged me to...

Blah blah blah. Lemme tell you, young whippersnapper, in my day kids were respectful to their elders and did not blather at them, so get offa my lawn!

Whu...? Wazzat? Championship? Me, judge, yeah, someone might have said something about that...


Pyyyygooon... Leave... now...

...or you will end up... us...

*something clinically useless and devoid of relevance, but probably intended as levity*

Hama wrote:
Why is being old a bad thing o great grognard?

Why it's bad to be old? Let me tell you why, young whippersnapper! You know how dogs lift their leg when they pee, right? Well, as it turns out, there are squirrels who do that too. At least we had them when I was a kid. Then, of course, came the war, and...


Well. Time for a nap.

Yes. I remember when presidents did what they should, by jove! They beat up the Brits! None of this namby-pamby "social security", "chicken in every pot" or tolerance for PETA stuff. Yeah, and no newfangled oil business. America needs to get back to classic, well tested businesses like whaling!

The next poster has some suggestion for my platform.

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I remember that Polyphemus guy... big fella, only one eye, yadda yadda. Just like my old uncle Bob. Bob came over to our house every christmas, and he used to manage to get our dog to try to bite him every single time. That dog was great... if I could just remember what we called him...


Cue the inundation by Kobold Cleaver's morons.

Yeah. Women can't choose between golden cups. It really is a man's job.

The next poster will tell us about the scene in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull that was put there by the Illuminati.

Yeah, you plucky homicidal girl with a... Mysterious backstory. You know you have a truly important mission, but you can do it!

Rootin' for all a you misfits!

...falls promptly asleep again.

He stared at me and thanked me sincerely.

The next poster is incredulous.

*whacks COG with rollator*

Pfeh. You youngsters have no appreciation for REAL roleplaying. When I started playing with GG and DA, it was hard to have your fighting man survive, lemme tellya. And every room contained a damn good reason to roll initiative. Plus we didn't have the stats in the wrong order. And we died, and made new characters, and we fought 5-50 nixies, and we liked it!

... What was the question again?

Scuse me, young whippersnapper, is this the prostatectomy machine? The Pro-Sec 1500, with gruel supply tubes? Here, hook me up willya?

The next young whippersnapper sees a problem with the volunteer.

Pulg gets a cane cattle prod to the back of his head, resulting in one very dead Pulg with a serious fizzy hair problem.

Yeah. No respect for the elderly, that's what's wrong. Yeah, as I said... ummm... Them youngsters have no respect.

Whaaaaaaat???? Speak up so I can hear you!

Previous poster, you whiny young whippersnapper! In my day, we did "drop and give me a million!" or "drop and give me ten million!", and we didn't complain! You really don't wanna be weaker than me, do ya?

Next poster, show him what I mean.

*whacks Grandpa Wonderbra to death with cane too*

What he said.

Grandpa Wonderbra wrote:


Huh, wha...

Ok, that's it. I told you kids to stay off my lawn. Now yer gonna get it.

* hits Goddity, GoatToucher, and Private Tiny over the heads with cane *

Stupid kids and their pirate games.

* goes back into house, mumbling something about actually facing pirates when I was a kid, all the while walking uphill in the snow both ways *

That's showing them young punks some respect fer their elders.

Yeah, you better get off Grampa's lawn or... Ummm...

Whatever it was, it was probably some young whippersnapper's fault. Pshaw.

Yeah. The grassier, the better. There was some guy that looked like the prez there, too, only he died when he was shot by four meter tall lizards. Wazzat? Evidence? Well, sure, I got it all on photo. You mean someone should have given that to the police? Hmmm, I guess. I did think he looked an awful lot like the prez... Oh well, I am sure nobody cares anymore.

The next poster cares.

I remember, in mah daze, thar wuz no hippehs...

*falls asleep*

"I heard something about depths of experience. Sounds good. I assume your newsletter is about miniature clay wellmaking. Sign me up."

The next poster will deliver the newsletter, and will describe the dangers he/she had to face doing so.

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That last sounds good to me.

Would you rather fight a type V demon, a marilith tanar'ri, or a marilith blackguard?

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