Cofiwch Dryweryn 
A stranger arrived at the zone earlier, as I was settling down to rest.
Some tall tale from beyond the barriers.
"Hexbear is kill." They said.
I have my doubts, but fear yet lingers.
Tomorrow morning I will broach it to the committee. We should send volunteers into the wider site to see what the hell is going on out there.
Gather 'round everyone.
There has been a request made to modify the name of the zone and it has been put to committee.
Consequently, we are now the Beanis Occupied Zone of Operation.
We remain BOZOs and hopefully this minor name change does not cause any confusion.
I would like to apologise to checks notes Sticky the Clown, who had been embroidering a patch to commemorate today's insurrection, and now has to start over from the beginning.
Alright BOZOs time for an update of affairs in the Occupied Zone.
Chaos elsewhere on the site seems to be dying down but I don't believe it is quite over yet. Centres are being established for the purpose of keeping citizens fed and watered.
There is a concern that there may be an attempt from reactionary elements to forcibly dismantle the zone, hence a militia has been formed by a checks notes Giggles the Clown, who has taken this BOZO thing way too literally.
Unless there are any other matters any of you wish to raise, that will be all.
deregulation machine go brrr.
You aren't English are you?
Just for this, the Senedd's gonna drop the English from all the roadsigns.
The camshafts help distribute the weight of the draw allowing you to hold it longer with less strain on the arms.
Really like crossbows but I've never really been strong enough to draw one without doing it gastraphetes style.
Historically shortbows were the bow of choice of people in my country and there's still yew trees all over where I live as a lasting impact of that.
Poking at BREXIT with a stick, like, 
"c'mon do something."
Don't worry, I will NEVER 
. The truth must be heard.
You must pet without rhythm to avoid the worm.
Earlier this week, one of my family used "Benidorm Elvis" as a term to describe the sorta washed up performer that runs the gig circuits of English expat enclaves. I don't know why, but it's stuck with me all week.
Didn't US arm shipments sent to Ukraine already make it to neo-nazi groups all over Europe thanks to Azov?
I vaguely recall there being something about that when that Reichsbürger lot got caught planning to overthrow the German government.
Edit: disregard this, I can't find any solid evidence they were.
I remember watching it once or twice as a child, but I didn't, like, play it on a loop like eight legged freaks.
There's this shitty horror movie about giant spiders called "eight legged freaks", when I was a little one spiders were my special interest so my parents plonked me down in front of it one stormy day and I just kept rewatching it.
Also early Red Dwarf (I've an embarrassing memory from my childhood of watching Polymorph getting to the bit where Rimmer complains about the name he's created for the protest group "on the other hand the abbreviation is CLITORIS", completely missing the joke, and assuming that clitoris meant cluttered and awkward and using it that way at school the next day).
And for some reason, the film remakes of the Dr Who serials "Dr Who and the Daleks" and "Daleks' invasion of Earth 2150 AD".
The nearest Daggerfall Covenant has to recurring characters is House Ravenwatch, and they show up, like, twice outside the Rivenspire main quest.
Edit: Also Darien, who shows up again when you get to Coldharbour and appears in Summerset.
who the hell are these people because my ancestors want to have a word with them.
My ancestors this, my ancestors that, I piss on your ancestors. Like as if, we supposed to honour people now just because they're dead. Like as if, this woman has a direct line of communication with her dead nazi grandad or whatever. "Oh my ancestors woulda felt bad about this." Don't care, doubtless to say they'd also boil their piss about gay marriage or desegregated schools as well.
Last night I dreamt I was in an unfamiliar city. There was this persistent keening buzz, and the floors constantly shivered and hummed as if many somethings moved beneath it. The people of the city fed themselves through pipes that belched a red syrupy liquid into troughs that they collected in bowls. The whole place stank in an overly sugary way, like the breath of someone in ketoacidosis.
I had a parcel to deliver, at the top one of the many towers that blotted out the sky. The inner walls covered with pipes and this slow gurgling mingled with the buzz. The further I climbed, the worse the buzzing got until I arrived at an office boardroom. No one in the room acknowledged my existence they just chatted amongst themselves as I laid the box on the table. I was about to leave when I caught a glance out the window.
Stretching out of the landscape like a hill, surrounded on all sides by towers, was the corpse of this vast sea creature. Kinda whale-y, kinda shark-y. Rotting in the earth, its putrefying flesh forming rivers of muddy reds and purples. Stretching tumour-like from its body was a gigantic hive, circled at the bottom by a complex network of pumps. Billowing like smoke from the rotting leviathan were swarms of countless vulture bees.
At the base of the creature, carriages of dead bodies were being transported and dumped like slag on a coal tip.
Then I woke up.
Bit idea:
1 issue voter, where the issue is whether or not the candidate could wreck me in a 1v1 match with instagib in Quake 3.
This comment killed me.
How does it feel that this election season this tranphobe will do more for the trans community then you will?
"How dare you criticise me, you uppity queer! I'll have you know that by voting for a politician (the absolute extent of my advocacy) I have done more for the trans community than you!"
The cross section of male, techbro, and lib is a 
of such potency that it'll crawl over broken glass for the chance to mansplain.
Distant on the wind we hear "well actually, Frankenstein was the doctor."
Best I can do is yer nan talking with her mates at the bingo about how whasshisname with the limp down the street died, y'know Eddie Frog's dad, you know Eddie. You know Eddie.