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Nobody wears a white coat any more...
...a tribute to becoming a doctor.
The list: Quotes from RPness.
  • Jefe: Hey, glittertits. Want to rub my crescent moon?

  • Jefe, to GM: Make up something that we were doing, while the rest of the party was out and about.
    GM: The moon elf and the sun elf were off making an eclipse...if you know what I mean.

  • Me: Can I be a Wearer of Purple who wears black?

  • GM: Oh! Bri! Mount! (Beat.) Mount, Bri.
    Bri: Woohoo!

  • Angel: She will nance another day. But she will nance damn fast.
    GM: Supernance!

  • GM: You're really spiff, suddenly.
    Bri: Do my sparkles shine more?
    GM: Yeah. You gain a point in sparkleness.

  • Me: I need to come up with a way to spend a couple of points.
    Angel: Profession: Man-whore

  • Jefe: I came up with an anthem for the drow: "Kill kill, hate hate, murder murder, mutilate."
    GM: You so get nance points for that.

  • Jefe: Divine mounts are difficult to change the alignment of. Usually the god says "That's my pony you messin' with, bitch..."

  • GM: You could turn her evil. Make her glitter black.
    Jefe: Yeah, she begins to glow in black light now.

  • Jefe: A melancholy, moody deity...
    Me: Okay, I just heard melancholy booty deity.

  • Angel: You want me to - AHH! THAT'S HOT! (Beat.) Um, okay, no, it's just mildly warm.

  • Jefe: You know, for being a god of dead things, he just doesn't look....deathly.

  • Angel: Why does a god only have a +4 sword?
    Jefe: +4 Ghost touch, holy, keen undead-bane bastard sword.
    Angel: Oh, that's why it's only +4.

  • Me: Okay, go over there, pull down your pants and grab your ankles.
    Jefe: We'll show you atonement.

  • GM: You are hayled! And he hits you on the forehead, and falls over. Praise KAY-vis!

  • GM: Ugh. Freaky naked bust.
    Angel: Wiggle the mouse, it'll go away.
    James: I think he already wiggled the mouse.

  • James: I wait for an altar to be available....
    Angel: I'd like to schedule a homicide tonight...
    GM: They have an open spot between four and five o'clock tonight. Don't go more than fifteen minutes over, there are a lot of sacrifices waiting tonight.

  • GM: Oh, by Lloth's eighth leg...
    Me (gesturing): Pop. Seventh, now.

  • GM: You find yourself in a misty grey swirly place.
    Me: Me?
    GM: No, James.
    Me: Then stop looking at me!

  • Me: I'm never going to be a fighter again. There's too much math.

  • Me: I strip his body of everything he owns. Including his foreskin.

  • Angel: I didn't know I held that much of your attention.
    Bri (from the sidelines): Lucky you.
    Me (in character): Lucky you.
    Bri: Plagiaristic bitch!

  • Me: I'm going to take my large shield, my haversack, my bag of holding, and my newly-discarded dignity and go back to my room.
    Jefe: Who discarded your dignity?
    Angel: He came to me looking for help, and said thank you. He's all pansy now.
    Me: I just wanted to know who was trying to kill me....

  • GM: And there's a little signature on the small of your back, with a date: "Lloth was here." And a spider print.

  • Jefe: I was cooler than you...for the one sesion I wasn't here for.

  • GM: And now the dragon comes out and kills you.
    Me: I eat breakfast.

  • Bri (considering James): If he flies high enough, that might be a challenging shot.

  • Angel: Daemon....not-a-daemon. Daemon....not-a-daemon....

  • GM: ...and he has a +2 nancing bastard sword.
    Me (writing): A +2....
    GM: Nancing bastard sword.
    Me: Riiiight.

  • Angel: What if I want a nancing bitch-sword?

  • Me: I make less conversation with her than usual.
    Angel: How can you say negative words?

  • GM: And the brown dragon hisses, and goes "grr, grr, grr...."

  • Jefe: The elves' dice...suck ass tonight.

  • Angel (to dice): I hate you. I hate you. You blow. Large. Goats.
    Jefe: He didn't make it, by the way.

  • GM: Are you going to have your horse do something? You know...it can go (making hand gestures) "hoof, hoof, bite..."

  • Jefe: Unless I'm shooting into melee....
    Me: It's large enough that if you shoot at its ass, you won't risk hitting us...
    James: Oooh, hole in one!

  • Angel: How about you go underground, and come back up, and we'll start this fight over?

  • Jefe: Okay, this whole bow thing sucks. The fighters are just killing us for damage. I mean they're fighters, so I suppose it makes sense, but...
    Me (as Angel heals his character up to half hit points): Think of the good side. You aren't getting your ass nailed to the ground, either.

  • Angel: Shit. I get nailed to the ground.
    Jefe: We're about to have a dead cleric.
    Angel: Mostly dead.

  • GM: You are goosed for points.

  • GM: It (the dragon) looks really really bad. It looks so bad, in fact, that I wish its turn were next, because it would run away.

  • Jefe: I suppose I could claim the kill....
    GM (adopting a foppish posture): I got it....

  • James: Can I suck the blood out of the dragon heart?
    GM: Sure.
    Angel: She's not watching him....
    Me: Me either, because I so don't need this shit.

  • James: Go on, I'll catch up later.
    Me: Just got to finish unzipping my pants...
    James: No, he is not going to go that far.
    Angel: Just going to take the dragon's schlong...
    Me: Do dragons have foreskins?

  • Jefe: Why is it that when I approach an woman's breasts, my intelligence drops by five or six?

  • James: Who needs intelligence when your penis is hard?

  • Jefe: No, most animals just have a penis that pops out when it's needed....

  • Jefe: It's a ring of Michael Flately...

  • Me: Remember, it's ten sessions per level.
    GM: Ewww, fuck that.

  • Me (typing quotes): Glow, not blow.
    Jefe: She does that in black light too...

  • Jefe: You know, I've noticed that you have to work really hard to rack yourself really hard.

now feeling:: amused amused

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