I have never had one trading card.

[Hicky]

It's a Summer day, and the matutinal sun not only illuminates my humble veranda, but allows me the contemplative refuge of a nearby bower. Submitting willingly to a seasonal ecstacy, I fulfill my unchanged, monotonous routine in an excited way, the perfunctory pamperings of previous seasons seeming an altogether new, vivid experience.

I am not one to take pleasure in college, but gadded gleefully on the tiresome road to the wretched institution I am mandated to attend. Suddenly, Catullus' poetry has whole new meanings, his forlorn love and anachronistically unpoetic structure thrilling to my literary instincts and pleasing to my soul. Byron's, '"I would I were a careless child / Still dwelling in my highland cave" replicate the liberty and positive emotion associated with a period mainly constituting gloom.

The day ending as it began, unpredictable and vivacious, I return to the seraglio of secrets and surprises that is my abode. In possession of a personal computing device, I log on to my favourite Poker websites, finding a new predilection in the world of strategy. I check Wikisource to pay further testament to my literary heroes, something I would never do, not on any regular day. I empathise with Victor Hugo's soul-crushing loss more than ever. 

As an exceptional chain of events has been put into gear, the upmost volubility of my mood having been perceived in the commonly shattering milieu I inhabit, I check a lost sister, a former love interest I jilted but hoped to one day return to. Her plosive prenom was the fair PKMN.NET. Her and I would hold hands in conquered woods; she and I would sit for hours in soft, soothing discussion of the transatlantic distance we had travelled towards the mind and spirit of each other, and how we would only regretfully go back.

I remembered, however, I had not been bequeathed one trading card. I had spent hours in tactile correspondence with this fair maiden: I had visited her vast sea of resources. I had acquainted myself with her most precious jewels and shown her that I was ready to take her into my arms once and for all.

The day was ruined. I went home, shattered, my ululations being mistaken for the profound, cryptic murmurings of a widow.

[Apprentice]

Do you want some of mine.

[Hicky]

Do you want some of mine.

If one man has been gentle and tender enough to be permitted to smell the perfume of PKMN.NET, I would not durst steal the thunderous momentum of his savage sinews.

[sylar]

do you want a special snowflake award and a cookie

[Hicky]

Alas, no. Maybe I can titillate PKMN.NET in the right way that she might make me a sensual offering.

[Lord Raven]

if i wrote like you i wouldn't get a B in english

[Sebastian Moran]

oh come now, he's clearly just trapped inside a thesaurus. 
 

[sylar]

it jsut seems relaly pretentious lol and i thgouth I Was a hipstyer u)_u

[Hicky]

it jsut seems relaly pretentious lol and i thgouth I Was a hipstyer u)_u

can I just do one thing in my life, return to PKMN.NET for one second in a year or however long it's been, without being called a 'hipster' by you because I made one joke post about it once? I have never met anyone on the earth who actually takes those labels seriously and if you think I'm motivated to post threads by some inane desire to present myself as a hipster then you are clearly trapped in some vacuous teenage delusion.

[sylar]

sont diss hipsetrs man youre dissing my entire RACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
noy trslly
eally
but
still im a hopsetr its ok you ahev people who know what ur goign through here!!!!!!!!! <3

[Owen Daynes]

^^ Do you really not see how stupidly immature you're making yourself look right now?

[Lord Raven]

Not only was this thread made in jest (you don't know Hicky at all) but Sylar isn't taking it seriously either.  I don't think he's the one looking stupid, having that said.

[TVSmasher66]

Seriously, that way you're talking is starting to bug me