Zombie Shakespeare's page

Alack the heavy day!
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself!

-Richard II Act IV, scene 1.

Drejk wrote:

You'll starve to death here.

"We few, we happy brain-free few..."

*debrains*

Barbraaaaaaaiiiiinnnnsss...

Or not murgh?

Pfft. Spelling.

The zombie buriest thou with face full down
the Earth's center towards, so that when he
attempteth his undead way to dig out
his will frustrated is in the extreme.

Happy St. Crispin's Day!

You'll be hearing from my atturrrrrrneys.

Sleep that knits up the raveled sleave of care,
The death of each day's life, sore labor's bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast of braaaaaiiiinnnssss...

I pray thee peace, I will be flesh and blood;
For there was never yet philosopher
That could endure the toothache patiently,
However they have writ the style of gods,
And made a push at chance and sufferance.
And also: Braaaaainnnns...

Yuhhhhhrrruuuhhhkkk...

captain yesterday wrote:

Somewhere in the world is a computer illiterate monkey that is more computer literate then I am.

I hear they write Shakespeare.

Liiiiiieeeessss...

...or throw dice into a sea of troubles
and by opposing checks, end them...

Because thats how pathfinder works. You want to be a world conquering baddass you have to earn it from the bottom up. Cut your teeth on a nice starter hamlet or something.

"To be murderhoboed or not to be murderhoboed, that is the que--gurk!"

-Starter Hamlet

To baby, or not to baby,
That is the dinner question...

...and by opposing checks, end them.
To die, to creep, perchance to scream.
Ay! There's the rub. For who knows
what screams may come in that
undiscovered encounter, from which no party returns?

To zombie or not to zombie, that is the question...