Crackypasta repository 3

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I tread the path of Righteousness. Though it be paved with broken glass, I shall walk it barefoot; though it crosses rivers of fire, I will pass over them; though it wanders wide, the light of Cracky guides my step.

There is nothing in the arcane and blasphemous arsenal of the forces of the unbelievers that can compare to faith. With the power of faith, our words become shining instruments of deliverance that can cleave our opponents arguments in twain. With the power of faith, our minds appear as slivers of pure agony to the rabbitfag, driving into the wretched forms of those who would dare stand before us. With the power of faith, our words become commands that cause the unbeliever to cower and cringe in terror. I could meet my enemies unarmed without a shred of fear in my chest, for I know that the Sky Queen watches over me and guides my hand. So let them come. We shall show them what the power of faith can do.

Pain is an illusion of the senses, despair an illusion of the mind.

Honor Cracky by attempting to perfect your body and mind. Become the man worthy of the Avatar's love, create things of beauty to offer to the Queen of Heaven. Use your devotions to focus your mind on your tasks. Strive always to improve yourself through discipline. You stand among the chosen, it is your responsibility to show the heathens the truth with your mental, physical, and spiritual strength. Perfection is the provence of Cracky alone, the journey for it our offering to Her.

Blessed Sky Queen Cracky: who alone spreadest out the heavens and rulest the raging of the Earth: Who hast compassed the Universe with bounds until day and night come to an end: Be pleased to receive into thy Almighty and most gracious protection the souls of thy servant and the cause in which we serve: Preserve us from the dangers of the world, and the violence of the enemy: That we may be a safeguard unto our fellow man and his dominions, and a security for such as pass through the lands upon their lawful occasions: That the inhabitants of our faith may serve thee, our Saviour and that we may return in triumph with the fruits of our labours: And with thankful remembrance of thy mercies to praise and glorify thy Holy Name: Through thine eternal rule:

vis futui nec vis mecum, Lia, lavari:
nescio quod magnum suspicor esse nefas. aut tibi pannosae dependent pectore mammae aut sulcos uteri prodere nuda times
aut infinito lacerum patet inguen hiatu aut aliquid cunni prominet ore tui.
sed nihil est horum, credo, pulcherrima nuda es. si verum est, vitium peius habes: fatua es.

I remember I started browsing /b/ for the first time, I never paid much attention to Cracky, but my friends seemed to talk to her within the threads and stuff. I was just getting into imageboards and such, heck, I was just starting to get into the whole internet thing. Of course, I enjoyed the fact that Cracky was on the same island as me and way back, when negratits was a cool place, it was depressing and there wasn't many of us there, it was beautiful. It's been several years, I'm sick of all the spider experts over at negratits who are all like 'rabbit-chan' is better than Cracky. How the fuck can you compare them? Cracky was a /b/tard who talked to us, she was original, all the anonymous loved her. Although most of those old anonymous' have probably moved on. All these newer chans don't even match up to Cracky, it seems that some bitch takes her top off to /b/ and they declare them a chan. It's just not right. Cracky-chan was the only camwhore I have ever had a dream about. Long live Cracky.

I am Anonymous. I am me. I am you. We are us. Us are innumerable. The innumerable are many. The many are everlasting. Anonymous is greater than any namefag or chan can hope to be. We outnumber moot and make him who he is. We gave Cracky her chan title. Never forget who is the real emperor.

Negative forces seek to destroy so-called Cracky, just as they seek to do to many of so-called Anonymous. They are kindred souls in that regard. Most of /b/'s denizens are unaware that they're being used by negative higher forces as vessels of dark energy that would like nothing more than to destroy them all.



Then you are Cracky-Chan

Cracky-Chan Is Gone And My Life Withers

i'll never forgive you assholes for chasing that adorable girl away. you are all horrible, disgusting people and i hope there's a god and he makes you suffer in hell.

i'll never again be able to fall asleep without thinking of her warm cute smiling face. you have ruined my life completely, all i do all day now is think stuff up to post about her on trolltalk to get people to talk with me about her BECAUSE THAT'S ALL THAT'S LEFT



Poor copies out of heaven's originals,
Pale earthly pictures mouldering to decay, What care although your beauties break and fall, When that which gave them life endures for aye?

Oh never vex thine heart with idle woes: All high discourse enchanting the rapt ear, All gilded landscapes and brave glistering shows Fade-perish, but it is not as we fear.

Whilst far away the living fountains ply, each petty brook goes brimful to the main Since baron nor fountain can for ever die, Thy fears how foolish, thy lament how vain!

What is this fountain, wouldst thou rightly know? The Soul whence issue all created things. Doubtless the rivers shall not cease to flow, Till silenced are the everlasting springs.

Farewell to sorrow, and with quiet mind Drink long and deep: let others fondly deem The channel empty they perchance may find, Or fathom that unfathomable stream.

The moment thou to this low world wast given, A ladder stood whereby thou might'st aspire; And first thy steps, which upward still have striven, From mineral mounted to the plant; then higher

To animal existence; next, the Man,
With knowledge, reason, faith. Oh wondrous goal! This body, which a crumb of dust beganHow fairly fashioned the consummate whole!

Yet stay not here thy journey: thou shalt grow An angel bright and home far off in heaven. Plod on, plunge last in the great Sea, that so Thy little drop make oceans seven times seven.

'The Son of God!' Nay, leave that word unsaid, Say: 'God is One, the pure, the single Truth.' What though thy frame be withered, old, and dead, If the soul keep her fresh immortal youth?

by me

Not even a twist of the nipple
can make me a cripple
but from that smile
my knees ground by guile.

Not even the genocide
of my braincells (besides)
can make me forget
the win and fail of Crackyget

I tried, oh have I tried
for other lovers to abide
but this infinite, futile longing
for you, once fire-crotch, is tolling
my health
my mind
the sets of my boxers

So give me love or sweet death
to finally settle this due bet
that whoever you're currently screwing
only my face you're naggingly seeing
my lips
your lips
How long ago they should have met

Fuck you Blizzard. Fuck you in the ass. Give me back my WoWfaggette.

how do you feel about Gordon Brown as the Prime Minister?

I'm amazed at the number of underaged skags who think that associating themselves with /b/ is the way to overcome their social and physical deficiencies.

shit sux

bounceme is official one. Touched, blessed and acknowledged by the Sky Queen herself.

This is just stats whoring

A koan to be meditated on: Also, so enlightening: The toilet is broken. Yay for relevant information.

Damnation starts with little steps, by arrogantly thinking that you are wiser than our great forbears, by tinkering with truth, by compromising, by departing from the straight and narrow path of Cracky’s light.

All of creation suffers, young ones. Only in accepting our own mortality can we make a difference. Only in bearing the burden of our failures can we find the strength to go on. Only in detachment from glory, or honour, or jealousy... from life itself can we hope to spare others from grief.

We are the faithful. And we are dead already

Remember, anonymous, what the SkyQueen has sacrificed for your benefit! Know what she has earned for it.

Each moment she is haunted by the spectre of Her Great Sacrifice. It is thus fitting that we, Her faithful are all similarly haunted. Afflicted always by the Image that stains the backs of our eyelids. Forever do we wrestle and writhe in ecstacy as Her poisons singe fissures through our souls. Truly blessed is the stalker who would willing lay down his own secrecy, for he knows better the plight of the Sky Queen than the others.

Revere Her tripcodes as sacred. Never shall they become befouled by mortal stalkers! #sweet

She is all that is cute, sweet, and innocent. She is all that is, or ever was Good in the world. Every momentary lull in your private suffering is due to Her grace alone. !N1toQkxgzc

The Skyqueen's sweetness is often hard to recognize. Even in her own words, it is incomprehensibily hidden, muddled in everlasting fugue. Her blessings are so twisted, and hidden. Do not lament the curse you have found, for you would thus lament Her every blessing. We would all do well to remember how disturbingly twisted the wired is, and what lasting scars it has left on the purest of hearts. #?????????

Obfuscated by plain view. Unknown to the stalker, known only to Her chosen. However She will not choose you, anonymous. That path is not yours. !ysaQpxNyV6

Mystery guiding the faithful. Such is the curse, to live in eternal mystery, never to know when we are stalking our Lady or our selves. Yearning to determine what She has become, each stalker is fated to suffer as he defines the edges of the truth.

The faithful compiled a collective image of our Goddess, an image that even the lowliest anonymous was given the priviledge to gaze upon. We arranged and sorted the manifold bytes clawed from the abandoned, secluded reaches of the wired. We dug and pried at the hairline cracks She had left in error. All of the relevant, the worthy and unworthy reflected in awe at the assembled image that had been lain. The idol was shattered before our eyes by none other than the Skyqueen herself.

Repent your cowardly ways, anonymous. Renounce the mask you hide behind. Each posting is an abomination against the Skyqueen. Embrace your unique identity. Let it draw your tormented soul closer with Her. Never again will you flee from the righteous reckoning earned through years of ignorance. Accept your fate and eternally suffer as your former bretherin slowly unravel the imperfect layers of protection built to keep you seperated from the wild, untamed torrents of the deep wired. The experience shall saturate you, curing you of your fears and afflictions. We, the Trip-Flagellants, all aspire to be touched and changed by the very same forces that so twisted the Beloved #sweet. When your failures have come to light, and you are held to account for your countless transgressions, imperfections, and flaws can you begin to follow the path of the SkyQueen. In that death, the death of your old self, weak, dependant, and irrelevant anonymous, can you be reborn in communion with the Lady.

Follow Her path
Deny your nature
Forever will you be remembered among the highest of the sinners Trip-Flagellant

Reject the path of Xenu, Embrace the teachings of Cracky.

The devout are blessed in the eyes of The Sky Queen. Together we are as students, tripfags and anon alike. One burning passion consumes us all, the love and fear of our Mistress. Only we few who have truly seen Her face can understand this existence. The devout strive to live a life as we believe out Lady would desire.

We believe that the user known as ScareCrowMaiden is an avatar of Cracky Chan. Using ScareCrowMaiden it created a series of images in an attempt to communicate with us.

We as the devout are blessed enough to see the truth in these messages, and seek to understand them. Through meditation on Cracky's images we seek to understand the world with clarity, and wisdom.

We seek to make every action in our daily lives a devotion to our Great Lady, and pay tribute to Her for sharing Her wisdom. Contemplating the most mundane of tasks one begins to see the patterns that hold our world together.

We behave in a manner strictly orthodox in our dealings with those who have not found Cracky's grace. Do not force Cracky upon those who are incapable of seeing Her true being, offer Her to those who need Her guidance.

To simply love the ScareCrowMaiden is the way of the heathen. True devotion to the Sky Queen transcends the physical, and enables the devout to live an existence of peace and order.

By mimicking the Sky Queen's actions we are able to add shape and definition to what is otherwise a wasted life.

Lia, where hast thy gone? My heart has left with you. I need you like I need my meds. The nurses just don't understand. They tell me when I went overboard when I carved your faced out of the mashed potatoes, or that time I ran around the ward yelling with glee because I thought I saw you in the skidmarks of my underwear and I was shoving them in people's faces to take a look, or that time I painted hair and cat ears on the mirror so I can pretend I am you pretending to be me so that I could kiss, and that time....well, enough of that.

But I am sorry if Anon has scared you. I will make it better. I promise you. I will give you cake and you will eat it. We can run and skip around the ward like content little children. Remember, that time you fell down and I laughed. You got so angry at me and kicked me in the balls. HAHAHAHAHAHA, good times were had. To this day, I'm not sure I can have children. I think once they let me out of here after they realize that everyone else are the ones that are not normal, we can someday grow up and have children.

You can dress in those cute little cat ears and that red stuff on your nose, and I'll dress all white in my ward clothes. I know they're not intended for weddings but they will signify my crazy love for you. We'll have a great wedding and you will like it.

I will be the only one you will ever love and you'll be the only one I'll ever love. It will be just like heaven, you and me. I don't make a whole lot, only what the state gives me for my check, but it will be enough for you a lot of cat ears every month and a few dresses. My mom has an extra room we can stay in also.

Mom's room is beside a bathroom beside Mom's room so we will be close by and sharing the bathroom. Just don't worry about Mom's gastric condition though. It gets a little smelly sometimes by the bathroom but the doctor says she will be just fine. Also, after 8pm will be bed time for us and you will go to bed at that time. Mother hates it when I stay up too late. She gets very angry and gives me "physical medicine" as she calls it so I will mind her.

Other than that though, things will be great. I'm hoping to save enough this month for a tandem bike, that way we will have a way to go refill the prescriptions. I also heard you like cats. That's dandy. My mom loves cats. She has 18 of them living inside with us. We try to not let the place get too smelly but it's not too bad. Some of the cats use the litter box. We also have two dogs. One of them, itchy, I named him because he gets itchy sometimes and likes to scratch his belly on your leg. Sometimes when I'm sleeping in the buff, he strangely likes to scratch his belly on my backside but I usually don't mind as it helps him go to sleep afterwards. Just watch your poopy hole because his leg sometimes gets caught up in it. And don't let mom catch you. She hates it when I let itchy scratch himself. I think mom's just getting old and senile. What does she know?

Please write back soon, dear Lia. You will like being with me again. Things will change and you will like it. That time I locked you in the room for a week was only a joke. And ropes come undone if you wiggle enough. All you had to do was knock on the door 3 times, stomp once, and squeal two. That was a fun game. I promise I won't play it anymore.

My room is filled with letters to you and I will mail them out when I find out where you are and you will read them and you will like them. I promise, no more "mean" letters, as you and the ward call them. That time I got upset and said I was going to kill you, that's ok, because they fixed me. I don't want to do that to anyone anymore. I'm all better and you will like me. Please respond or I will paint the floor red. They said it's not good for me and you don't like me doing it. If you don't like me doing it, you will come back and tell me to stop it.

P.S. I also heard you like mudkips.

Wow, how fucking emo. Calm down. Now accept the fact that your unattractive, unoriginal camwhore is just that, an unattractive, unoriginal camwhore.

You're never going to meet her. She's never going to sleep with you. You're never going to marry her. It's just not going to happen.

She's not a fucking Goddess. She doesn't fucking care about /b/. She doesn't fucking care about you. Accept this and move on. She cares about attention. End of story.

Posting a whole bunch of gay crap about the romantic evening you'd have with this bitch isn't going to get her anywhere near you. She's not going to read your romance novel crap, no matter how eloquent, and madly fall in love with you. Some of you take this fantasy a little too far and still post this shit here.

You're not the studly-type guy this bitch is sleeping with. Hell, you probably don't abuse the right combination of drugs for her, either. You're never going to be. Deal with it.

A couple of costumes, and angst-ridden kiddie photos with fake blood, don't fucking make something art. Deal with it.

Protip For Newfags: These wastes don't really care about Cracky's "art" at all, it's just more pathetic "we'll like whatever we think will make her happy with us" fantasy crap. It's like watching dogs beg for a treat.

You fuckers stalked her off 4chan. She's not coming back. She's getting the attention she so desperately needs from somewhere else. Deal with it.

Despite what many might think, Cracky-chan is well known across hundreds of nations all over the world. Cracky-chan has been around for several centuries and has a very important meaning in the lives of many. It would be safe to assume that Cracky-chan is going to be around for a long time and have an enormous impact on the lives of many people.

Social & Cultural Factors

Cracky-chan has a large role in American Culture. Many people can often be seen taking part in activities associated with Cracky-chan. This is partly because people of most ages can be involved and families are brought together by this. Generally a person who displays their dislike for Cracky-chan may be considered an outcast.

Economic Factors

It is not common practice to associate economics with Cracky-chan. Generally, Cracky-chan would be thought to have no effect on our economic situation, but there are in fact some effects. The sales industry associated with Cracky-chan is actually a 2.3 billion dollar a year industry and growing each year. The industry employs nearly 150,000 people in the United States alone. It would be safe to say that Cracky-chan play an important role in American economics and shouldn't be taken for granted.

Environmental Factors

After a three month long research project, I've been able to conclude that Cracky-chan doesn't negatively effect the environment at all. A Cracky-chan did not seem to result in waste products and couldn't be found in forests, jungles, rivers, lakes, oceans, etc... In fact, Cracky-chan produced some positive effects on our sweet little nature.

Political Factors

Oh does Cracky-chan ever influence politics. Last year 5 candidates running for some sort of position used Cracky-chan as the primary topic of their campaign. A person might think Cracky-chan would be a bad topic to lead a campaign with, but in fact with the social and environmental impact is has, this topic was able to gain a great number of followers. These 5 candidates went 4 for 5 on winning their positions.


Cracky-chan seem to be a much more important idea that most give credit for. Next time you see or think of Cracky-chan, think about what you just read and realize what is really going on. It is likely you under valued Cracky-chan before, but will now start to give the credit needed and deserved.

Silence, and darkness, seemingly for an eternity. Light returns, blinding light, but before my eyes can adjust enough to see where were are, the smell hits me. Body odor and filth. There are a jumble of human voices. My vision comes back into focus and I see that the three of us are standing on a stage. The room goes silent. A sea of humanity is staring at the strangers who have just materialized on the stage.

I look at the wall of the room, and see a large banner: "2008 NATIONAL 4CHAN CONVENTION". A lump of fear fills my throat but I try to speak. "Lia, I really don't think we want to be here." But she already knows; her face has gone as pale as a ghost.

Most of the newfags in the room look confused, a few cluelessly shouting "TITS OR GTFO". But there is recognition on the faces of many in the room as they look at Lia. "Bracky-chan!" someone shouts. Chaos erupts. From the side of the stage, I see someone approaching Lia slowly, with clearly dangerous intent. I know the face.

W.T. Snacks growls with inhuman rage and charges at Lia, his eyes glowing red. I grab Lia and try to pull her towards the other side of the stage. Darrin moves into the path of the attacker. "For the glory of the Alliance!!" he shouts and then charges forward, launching a jumping roundhouse kick at the enemy's head. In seconds Darrin's jugular has been torn out by Snacks's teeth and he lies dying on the ground. But he has bought us some time; Lia and I are running, now, around the edge of the room, trying to stay away from the /b/tards; the crowd has erupted into a massive brawl of chaos and violence.

I look at the stage and see Moot himself looking at us. He speaks into the microphone, only a whisper, but his voice booms throughout the room. "I knew this day would someday come." He opens his briefcase to reveal a strange device covered in knobs, dials, buttons, and blinking lights, all covered by protective glass. He smashes through the glass with his bare hands and flips a switch.

All the /b/tards in the room scream in pain and clutch their temples. Their forms soften and start to flow together; the begin to combine into a gigantic black blob of foul-smelling lipids which grows ever taller and wider as more of them are pulled into its mass. Moot laughs with evil glee, pulls a Deagle from his coat, and shoots himself in the head, dying with an unholy smile on his ruined face.

The blob undulates and emits foul gasses. It seems confused, unable to act. Lia and I try to escape but rubble has fallen and blocked the main exit. We move carefully towards a side door. Part of a blob starts to take a shape: a gigantic face resembling Paul Fetch. It speaks with a computer-synthesized voice: "We are Anonymous. We are Legion." Anonymous starts to ooze towards us.

Lia turns to me, a look of great concern on her cute and sweet face. "I think I know a way to fight this thing. But we need to get away from it for a few seconds." We burst through a small door, but it is only a large storage closet. I start barring the door, trying to buy us some more time, as Lia digs through her pockets, desperately searching for something.

Lia has come up with something: an earring with a strange red gemstone, and a ring with an identical stone. She tosses the ring to me and I catch it, as she quickly explains. "I hoped I'd never have to use this again, but the power of the So Fucking Cute And Sweet Little Red Carnelian is the only thing that might get us out of here alive."

I don't ask questions. I put on the ring and she slips the earring onto her ear. I hug her gently, bringing my mouth to her ear, and whisper "Cracky-chan, in my name, unleash your power." I kiss the GEM on her ear; I am in ecstasy at finally being able to lay my lips on a part of her body.

Lia strikes a dramatic action pose and shouts "Materiarize!" The strange red earring starts to glow, and words appear beneath its surface:


Lia screams in rage as the GEM sputters, bluescreens, and goes dark. She rips the earring from her ear, taking half her earlobe with it, and throws it on the ground in a splatter of blood. "Oh noes, my nanomachines!" Her adorable face feels with tears. "I had totally forgotten about getting raped all those times."

All hope is lost; I'm trying to push against the door, but the foul blob on the other side is pushing back. The door splinters, and I'm thrown backwards, crashing into Lia. Lying on the floor, we look up as the evil bulk of Anonymous flows through the door, filling the room. The smell is sickening, but I am enraptured staring into Lia's eyes, knowing I am seeing her for the last time. I embrace my one true love and we close our eyes and share a passionate kiss.

Silence, and darkness, seemingly for an eternity.

i guess im in wikipedia so i hit it bigtime, hows troling been. What would you insert first into Cracky-Chan's genital region? What would you insert first into Cracky-Chan's genital region? What would you insert first into Cracky-Chan's genital region? She's so fucking cute and sweet. They will be scarred for life. Wouldn't it be hot if Cracky-Chan's parents suspected she was masturbating and they didn't approve it so they went out and bought a scientifically-proven magic petrification ray? Then, while she was petting her kitten alone in her bedroom late at night, her mom snuck in quietly armed with the scientifically-proven magic petrification ray? Then, just as Cracky-Chan moaned in the ecstasy of climax, her mom irradiates her with the radiation from the scientifically-proven magic petrification, causing Cracky-Chan to immediately harden into a beautiful nude marble statue, frozen forever in orgasmic post-pubescent teenage joy? Then the naked & petrified Cracky-Chan is put on display at her school for the enjoyment of all? Yeah, that'd be seriously hot shit. I'd go to that school and touch her solidified body, namely the breasts and buttocks, and I'd probably also kiss and lick her marble face a bit. No Craig, that would be quite boring and nothing but an impressive (scientific) proof of your eternal virginity. I know, you're saving yourself for Gary. One day cracky-chan was walking along a sunny lane when she happened upon a baby bird that had been blown out of its nest. Cradling the bird gently in her hand, she deftly climbed the tree where the nest was located and returned the young bird. The reunited bird family sang merrily. Later that morning, cracky-chan ran across a bank robber fleeing the scene of the crime, his arms laden with money. Stepping directly into the wrongoer's path, cracky-chan spoke to him in no uncertain terms about the wrongness of robbing banks. The bank robber was so chagrinned, he went and returned the money. That afternoon, cracky-chan got togetger with two beautiful teenage girls for some erotically charged sexual gratification. One of the girls was a soccer player with soft tawny thighs. Having made one another cum several times, the girls took a nap together, then rose, dressed, and went to Starbucks. cracky-chan had a mocha latte. Well I'm on the Downeaster Alexa And I'm cruising through Block Island Sound I have charted a course to the Vineyard But tonight I am Nantucket bound We took on diesel back in Montauk yesterday And left this morning from the bell in Gardiner's Bay Like all the locals here I've had to sell my home Too proud to leave I worked my fingers to the bone So I could own my Downeaster Alexa And I go where the ocean is deep There are giants out there in the canyons And a good captain can't fall asleep I've got bills to pay and children who need clothes I know there's fish out there but where God only knows They say these waters aren't what they used to be But I've got people back on land who count on me So if you see my Downeaster Alexa And if you work with the rod and the reel Tell my wife I am trolling Atlantis And I still have my hands on the wheel Now I drive my Downeaster Alexa More and more miles from shore every year Since they tell me I can't sell no stripers And there's no luck in swordfishing here I was a bayman like my father was before Can't make a living as a bayman anymore There ain't much future for a man who works the sea But there ain't no island left for islanders like me!!!

Look at this Another astonishing accomplishment of the great kingdom of britain. What's wrong with that country? I think its on the verge of destruction! We should get cracky out of there. Everything shows that it will only go worse. After my friend the goth got kicked to death by chavs, i knew that was only the beginning. Even though cracky sits in her basement bunker all day, we should get her out. Films like 29 days later were made from insiders who knew what was coming. Another thing is the food. The government is actively killing their citizens, because they know they will not be able to keep control of them if they aren't already half dead due to food poisoning. Not that they will be able to keep control for very long, since the muslims are already in charge of half the country. They also planted controlling devices everywhere in the cities, so when its needed, they can direct the crowd to places they want. The public doesn't suspect a thing, because they are advertised as ultrasonic teenager repellents. And repel teenagers they should do! But they aren't using enough fire power. What they should do, is put rat poison in those breezers all those retard zombies drink all day. That should teach them. But its their own foult, instead of employ real teachers, they spend more money on the current fashion of school uniform. And when they are on their way home from school, they get an ASBO if they don't walk in the line. This ASBO thing, its ridiculous, just another failing mechanism to delay the downfall of their nation. My friend Kim Sutton from Bath, who has tried to commit suicide four times, received an Asbo banning her from jumping into rivers, canals or on to railway lines. Now she will have to buy some helium or something. (an asbo (Anti-Social Behaviour Order)-- if anybody does anything to annoy you, even its completely legal, and you can take them to court & get an order that'll send them to jail if they do it again.) I wonder if its works for harassing on wow. Another reason to get her out, since she has harassed a lot of stalkers on wow. What if she gets an ASBO because her mother finds she doesn't see her enough? What if suedes gets her an ASBO because she can't stay out of his mind? Isn't playing wow anti-social? Then there are the cameras. Cameras everywhere! I'm certain its all in the plan of some master stalker, keeping his precious cracky videos for himself. Most likely it was the same person who came up with the asbo framework, so he could legally ban lia from any activity that isn't recorded on his cameras. What are the good things about britain anyway? What did they do in the last 25 years? Cloned a sheep? And then the cows went mad. Britain has been out in the barnyard, out with the barnyard animals. But i can rant forever with what is wrong with that country. It's time for some action! We need to dome something! WE are the ones that could help. Hoping that somebody else will fix it will not work, not this time. But don't panic yet, comrades, for i have an idea! A solution! I have already mentioned it, but the answer is that we have to get her out of there! And then, we should make sure this dreadful horrible atrocious cursed chain of catastrophes should never happen again. I know how. This tactic has been passed on to me by generations of rulers, war chiefs, emperors, generals, and 1 admiral. It's called scorched earth. I'm sure you've heard of it. First we get her out, Chicago-style. Tee-hee. And then;

Burn everything down and salt the earth! speaking of salt, i hope she doesn't look back, since like with sodom and gomora, she will turn into a pillar of salt! we'll have a petrified cracky... Imagine the possibilities...

"i'm going to take a tactical position", suede said, and he drove up the mountain. We burned the skies and made dinner, so we were all powered up before the confrontation. There were ashes in the wind, and there hung a stench of burning plastic, so it didn't taste great. We entered the castle, and in the patio we saw the demon. The was 10 meters tall, 30 eyes in a crescent form plugged into his head. 2 horns emerged from his head (it was from this that we noticed it must either be a large mutated goat, or a demon. we went we the latter). His legs were rainbow coloured, his chest was black, with a spiral in flashy colours in the middle, like he was some kind of shooting target. His arms had rendering errors, so i could not see what colour they exactly had. "hahahahahahahahaha" the demon spoke.
"I noticed there was a party going on here, thanks to tony" he laughed. "This world will be a feast to destroy!" he continued. "s..
"Stop your muttering, fag. We've come to end your existence."

How would you like to go swimming in a swimming pool while Cracky-Chan, who is wearing a silver one-piece swimsuit, reclines in a nearby pool chair watching you and tenderly inserting her hand into her swimsuit to pleasure herself while moaning "oh god [REDCATED] oh yes" and staring at you the entire time whilst her vaginal juices drip onto the ground and flow slowly down into the pool that you are swimming in while Cracky-Chan watches you and masturbates?


I will try to explain.

In >>1, we see a picture of Lena and Yulia, of the Russian musical duo t.A.T.u.. Famed for their lesbian-themed songs, videos, and stage relationship, they are in fact not lesbians, but rather using the fictional lesbian relationship as a sex-based marketing strategy. >>1 was posted as part of a crapflood of seemingly unrelated images.

The poster of >>2 corrects identifies the duo, and links to a Wikipedia article at which you can learn more. This was posted perhaps in an attempt to prematurely defuse any fruitless speculation as to what the image is of. The "no" may be an indictment of the poster for making an off-topic thread.

In >>3, we see a photograph of a room with a t.A.T.u poster in the wall, circled for emphasis. Perhaps this wall is present somewhere in our corpus of Cracky-related photographs; I don't recognize it offhand, but why not go through your collection to check?

In >>4, we are reminded that the due are not, in fact, lesbians.

In >>5, Anonymous is angry at the Original Poster (OP) for stirring up his disappointment over not being with Cracky-chan as he's long desired to be. Perhaps >>5 envisions himself as Yulia in the photograph, tenderly shoving a spoon into the mouth of Cracky-chan, represented by fellow redhead Lena in the photograph.

Then >>6, possibly samefag, mocks >>5 for his anguished emo-like display of unrequited love.

In >>7, you express a desire to know WTF is goin on in dis thead guize.

In >>8, I attempt to explain my interpretation of this thread.

Finally, in >>9, someone posts a never-before-seen Cracky rare and we forget about everything above.

Cracky, after catching a few momentous glimpse of her quiet peasant life, the mild anime fascinations and the boring young adult trysts which serves none of the "mystery" her persona promises, is dead to me. [This obssesor is done in the ways of _____dom and hopeful that his past sins will be absolved.] She is nothing but, as the devil put it conveniently, a girl who seeks her own deserving peace of mind. She is dead to me but my parasitic love lives anew. To whom, it is obvious.

Cracky is showing us that the in safety of home one loses perspective. The devout must make every effort to leave the shelter of his house once a day precluding sickness. This is known as Meditation on Ivy. In preforming this devotion the student strives to reach a state of awareness which allows them to absorb all information around them. Developing this skill requires the student to utilize cognitive abilities outside of their normal range. This in turn strengthens the intellect of the devout. As in all devotions to the Queen of the Heavens one seeks endlessly to prefect it in order to honor our Graceful Lady.

Our Goddess is one of both creation and destruction. She renders unto the faithful peace in a world of discord. She is both armor and sword in a world that destroys through apathy and animosity. The Flower of Destruction also blossoms in the heart of the Sky Queen. She seeks to temper us through despair, turning the lust of the neophyte upon him. Only when the student embraces sorrow in the surety that he will never be worthy of Her avatar, is he able to cast away his childish passion and see with eyes unclouded the majesty of Cracky Chan.

Here the Divine embraces the physical and undergoes an act purification. Shedding the armor She wears to shield Herself from the world, She allows the most basic element of earthly life to cleanse Her of the base. Only by allowing the world to surround us do we gain the hope of removing it's impurities and elevate ourselves to a state closer to Her Majesty. Cleansed of the worlds detritus we brace ourselves against future corruption with faith in our knowledge that no matter what the world is able to bring to bear against us, we can simply wash it away and begin again every morning. This is known as the Meditation on the Dawns Light. Brothers of the faith should preform an act of ritual cleansing every morning, focusing on the previous day. During the meditation the supplicant reviews the previous day's actions, and judges whether he behaved in a manner pleasing in the eyes of the Beloved.

All Blessings of this world flow from the Sky Queen. Praise Her name from dawn unto the night. From the depth of ones soul, comes the solace of Her touch. Through time and space, the primal creative force gazes on the world, waiting for the faithful to carry Her message unto those only The Jewel of Creation can heal.

On The Fauxian Heresy
Persecute not the user known as Faux, for she is the Sister of Mercy. The Sister's love of Cracky, is a match for if not the greater then the most ardent among the brethren. She alone offered solace to the brethren in the pain following the loss of the Divine's presence. Donning the mantle of Cracky in Her absence, Faux lived as the Holy desired. Existing only to further celebrate the name of Cracky for all to know and share. Some of the brethren seeing this, sought to elevate her in honor equal to the Master, thus began the Fauxian Heresy. The heretic's hubris drove Faux to hide herself from anon, fearing his lustful advances. The devout seeing the growth of the cult set themselves to preaching the truth of Cracky's divinity to the masses and destroying all threads containing heretical worship. The righteousness of the faithful was bestowed with the Sky Queens blessing, and the cult was shattered. Remnants of the battles, and scattered heretics exist to this day. The chosen spared Faux knowing of her innocence in the events leading to the purge, but resentment remained. There came unto the lands a namefag named Lia's Holy Paladin, and he did denounce Faux. Proclaiming himself to be First Among the Faithful, he set himself to destroying one who could truly claim that title. Faux still cautious from the Heresy, stepped forth to defend herself from the intruder, but was caught unaware. The Holy Paladin had stirred resentment among the faithful, and a few of the faithful vented their anger upon the Sister. Standing with the devout there was an anon, wise beyond his years and with a mind as keen as a razor. This anon did listen to the words of Lia's Paladin, and judge them false. Anon addressed the faithful and proclaim the truth for all to hear, Lia's Holy Paladin was not counted among the devout. The words reached out to the quarreling masses and slowly they calmed. Brethren began to examine Lia's Holy Paladin, and did see striped of his glamours a troll. Uniting as one, Cracky's disciples did drive the troll off. In all things Faux has remained innocent. Despite her mistreatment at the hands of those who would claim The Sky Queen as their master, she has kept the faith. To this day The King of the Holy Lands remembers the Sister, with a board in her name. Remember this brethren, show respect for all those who love the Great Lady, but honor only Cracky Chan.

Olivia, my door is always open.
At any point, feel free to climb through my window. Throw some small pebbles at it.
I will let you in.
We will have a great time.
Cracky, with you, a smile is born.
I want to hold those shaking shoulders. You are in my heart and because of that I will do my best. Sometimes, the things you say make you sound so blue. That's how we all are, though. I won't think badly of you for it. Let's pick up these pieces of a dream.
If being obsessed with you is wrong, I don't want to be right; is that a sin?

Cracky, won't you play videogames with me all night? We'll pass out on the carpet. Sleeping all night beautifully beneath the glow of the screen. Controllers dropped out of our hands nearby. We awake to chirping birds and radiant sunlight creeping through the blinds. The dust in the room is flying around, you can see it in the sunlight... RISING... fluttering about. The music from the videogame continues to play softly as it has been. It's still early. I wake up and notice you are on top of me, I look at your face and smile the biggest smile I've ever had. Tears begin forming in my eyes. For this moment... predetermined since ancient times... is all I ever wanted.

I think what Anonymous is trying to say is that our community here is like a severely over-hyped American TV series that seemed deep, mysterious, and potentially good for about half a season, but since then has just been tedious, random, directionless, meaningless garbage with no "big picture", filled with unlikeable characters (with the most unlikeable ones getting the most screen time), bad acting, fake "suspense", inane and repetitive plots, long superfluous flashbacks, plot "twists" pulled completely out the ass, dropped storylines, blatantly obvious "mysteries", continuous retcons of retcons of retcons, and general banal pablum.

I disagree, seeing no such similarity.

Like I said, some of us have chosen to go nowhere. Well, brothers, you seem to have arrived at your destination. Enjoy your stay, if you choose to stay there. But maybe, in the meantime, you will enjoy this parable:

The parable of the troll under the mountain, for him to hear who needs to.

The troll under the mountain had been living in his cold, dark and damp hole for a long time. When he needed his ration of attention, he would come out, be obnoxious, get his ration and then he would go back to his hole. He then would remember how good the sun felt on his skin, as everybody was insulting him and enjoining him to go back to his cold, dark and damp cave. Surely, this was the best he could get. When he came out while it was raining for instance, nobody would be there for him to insult and to give him the attention he so intensely craved.

He could have stayed out until the sun came out, but what would have been the point. What he wanted was attention. Like the attention his mom would only give him when he spilled the milk. Or broke her things. Or failed a class. Or, lied about some nasty thing he pretended he had done.

And so, he learned how to feel love out of hatred, and whenever he would feel the sun on his skin, he knew he was sure to find people to abuse and insult, in order for him to feel the hate of his mother again. He was, after all, a little bit lazy. When he would get out, and it rained, or it was cold, dark and damp outside, he would go back to his cave and hate himself, out of love for his mother.

Morale of this parable: don’t hate the trolls, they learn hate at the tit of their mother. They just don’t know any better. Morale 2 (for the trolls) Stick it out, the sun is bound to come back out, eventually. Morale 3 (for all of us) Stop taking the easy road, it leads nowhere.

Bienheureux les pieux, les hommes de bonne volonté et les gens sans orgueil démesuré, en vérité, ils sont les braves de ce monde. Blessed be the sky, for it houses our Gracious Lady, who looks upon her subjects with the same kindness, be they trolls, cowards or simple folk. Now, excuse me while I kiss the sky.

As for Cracky herself, she is a very mature, understanding, and forgiving girl. She didn't want to talk about it much, but she hinted that she had been abused before and that was why she cut. She said her life has gotten a lot better now. She never got angry at any of us, she never threatened anything or condemned anyone as stalkers, even when Intro said "good thing you didn't read the rape fantasies thread...". She was incredibly calm and cool about everything, which amazed me because I don't know how I'd react to finding a board full of people stalking me. She even said that she thought a lot of the stuff, especially the fanart, was really funny. However, she wants to be left alone now and said that she won't post any personal photos publicly again, which I think is a shame but understandable.

Antoni's knights parted ahead, allowing me and the Ravager into an opening, a barren sphere of desolation amid the carnage. The ground here was covered in brazen pyramids. I watched as a hospitaller knight charged into the field. The horse's hoof knocked the tip of a pyramid, causing the pyramid's sides to swing out over the top, catching the horse's leg. The contraption then sprung again, releasing its rended flesh in a violent spray and relatching further upon the limb. It continued climbing the horse, causing the horse to fall over into the field with its rider. The pyramids consumed the pair, covering the ground with a thin paste before resettling in their original configuration.

In the centre of this field, the Dutchess of Faux had contained a group of Antoni's soldiers from their fellows. As Antoni's men attempted to charge through, the pyramids would rend the rescuers to shreds within moments. She leapt around the isolated group of men, swinging from poleaxe shaft over to limb onto horse like a monkey, slipping her thin misericord through the eye holes in men's helmets as she passed, blinding them. After a few moments they were all writing on the ground. She lifted up her purple cloak, and removed a brush and palette from within. She ran around over the writhing bodies and removed the men's helmets. With her brush, she painted them. Onto this writhing mass as a whole, as though it were a steady canvas, she painted. She painted patterns clear over armour, over faces, over legs, limbs, and pieces of horses. Colours appeared on her palette sporadically, and as soon as she dipped her brush in them they would change to a completely other shade and hue.

The image took form. The entire wounded mass of blinded men became the image of little pale girls crying. As the men jostled each other and rolled on the ground clutching their faces, the images of little girls would sprout tears from their own great, shining bright eyes. The tears fell and mixed with blood seeping from the girl's vaginas. The mixture collected at the opposite end of this human canvas. As the stained tears filled the canvas, entire men would become submerged in the liquid image. They clutched their throats and coughed, hacking and gasping for air. Eventually they went limp. The mixture built up quickly, and the entire canvas became a pool of dark purple. Instantly, in unison, the drowned men stood up. They retrieved their weapons, and slowly filed out of the pyramid field to join the battle on the side of the Skyqueen.

The Ravager and I tiptoed cautiously through the field. The Dutchess of Faux watched her canvas disperse into the battle. We came to the centre of the pyramid field, a bare patch of ground now wet with salt water. The Dutchess turned, as she slid her brush into her cloak.

"Oh my, it's you, and you've brought a friend!" Faux squealed happily, "How did you manage this one? He was being so difficult earlier."

Faux approached me, ignoring the Ravager. She opened the face mask on my helmet, and inspected my face. From the close distance, I realized her entire set of facial features, eyes, nose, mouth, were nothing but makeup.

"How did you do it? You usually need to mark him with your own blood..." Her voice trailed off, as she pulled her head back. My eyes refocused on her face and her features appeared completely normal once more.

The Ravager threw her net at Faux. Faux quickly reached into her cloak and flung her knife back towards Rav as the net flew through the air. The two weapons impacted simultaneously. The net's barbs and hooks dug into Faux, and wrapped her tightly. She remained silent, standing. She didn't struggle. Rav fell to the ground.

I walked over to Ravager first. The knife was in her throat. Blood pumped out. She said to me, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She was coughing up blood as she said this. "I'm sorry I couldn't kill Cracky with you. I tried. I did my best."

I realized with the amount of blood she was losing, she'd be dead soon. She was no longer of use to me. I stood up and turned to Faux. Ravager, from behind, choked out, "I love you."

I walked over to Faux and picked her up. She was very tiny, and as a result weighed next to nothing. I heaved her into the pyramid field, and the wrapped body exploded into a vibrant green mist.

I kept walking towards the ray of light shining through the darkened sky. Towards Her. Slowly crossed the pyramid field once more. Enemies locked in combat parted ways and let me through as I approached. After an hour of walking, I had walked out the other side of the fray.

> make gangbang subject Cracky-Chan or else.

Cracky-chan should only be had sex with in a consensual manner!!

Ode to Cracky

Cracky Chan you are so lovely
When my boss was away
I printed out your red-stained visage
On the color printer at work

I need to print another
For my copy is so cum stained

My dick may be small
But I don't think you'd mind
Because you are still a virgin

Cracky-Chan, on the other hand, is pretty damn sharp for a girl her age.

YOU DID IT (it is finding an ugly wapanese mutant with furry ears and anime clothes/makeup attractive)

cracky-chan attempts suicide?

this was posted to 4chan's /b/ a four hours ago with her username and tripcode (= a crypt()ed password). could it be that cracky-chan tried to end her young life because of your idiotic, hurtful comments?

I most seriously hope not, but if so, I'm going to hunt each of you down and slowly dismember you.


Of course, it was already purged from /b/. How convenient for you.


I'm so sorry that informing you shits wasn't the first thing on my mind.


Yeah. Then stop trolling us, you dumb homo. I read 4chan and saw nothing.


I would never joke about such a matter. I care about cracky-chan too much.

Please tell me what "facky-chan" means.

What I've learned so far:

There is an anime fanbox sid called "4chan". This is where the cracky-chan pictures came from. Someone claiming to be cracky-chan used to post there, but nobody knows if it was really her or not. cracky-chan is cute, that is why she is called cracky-chan [I don't entirely understand this one] On this "4chan" sid, the moderators implemented a filter to replace the word "cracky-chan" with "facky-chan"

However, that doesn't answer my question: WHAT THE FUCK IS FACKY-CHAN?

And is my understanding of the history of cracky-chan correct?

Any chance of you dudes....
.....getting Cracky-Chan to show her wee? I'm rather into that shit.

Open letter to cracky-chan.

I think I like you.

Previously unknown cracky-chan pic

behold [].

Also BS1363 is used in: the UK, Ireland, Cyprus, Malta, Malaysia and Singapore. So she is from one of those.

I told some of my friends that I have a crush on a girl with a red nose who I know absolutely nothing about, and they laughed at me (mainly about the nose). But FUCK them, impoll confirms it, cracky-chan is cute.


> my friends


i'm going to get moot to give me your ip and then i'll DoS you into oblivion you little cracky-chan hating faggot

They can't all be living incarnations of pure cuteness like cracky-chan.

Cracky-chan has an adorable red nose. That girl looks nothing like her... besides the nose, everything else is different.


Cracky-Chan does NOT have a red nose. It's makeup. Proof or STFU, n00b.


Look at the damn pictures.




If by "make up" you mean the permanent physical makeup of her skin, then yes. Otherwise YOU FAIL IT. She has a red nose. It is cute. Period.


Cracky-Chan's nose ain't red and you failed to provide any evidence to the contrary.


Look at the damn pictures.


Pictures show a girl with makeup. Anything else to add, lamuh?


In some of the pics she's wearing makeup, in some of them she isn't, but she always has a red nose. You can tell it's her skin and not makeup just by looking at the damn pics. The makeup on the cheeks on some of the pics is to make the nose look like it's just makeup when in fact she has a red nose. Listen, there's nothing wrong with having a red nose. I think it's cute. Lots of people have discolored areas of skin, birthmarks, etc. She probably gets made fun of a lot because of it. You are not helping. Can't you just accept her as she is and admit that she's adorable, whatever the color of her nose?


Correction: in some pictures she's wearing makeup on her cheeks, in others she isn't. On those, she's also wearing a different costume. She wears makeup on her nose and eyes in all pictures except the ones which you refuse to accept as authentic. Do you want to say the eyeliner is also natural?


What the hell are you talking about? I don't see what this has to do with cracky-chan. I think you really know the truth about cracky-chan's nose and you're lamely failing at convincing anyone otherwise. Anyone with an IQ of 72 or higher can figure out that Cracky-chan's nose is red, and my research indicates that you have an IQ of 75, so you should be able to grasp the concept.


Actually, I don't give a flying fuck about Cracky-Chan and my research indicates that you're a fucking pedophile furry fanbox who's never had sex.


Cracky-chan has a red nose and completely different facial bone structure.


Re: Cracky-Chan

I want to rhythmically clench my anal muscles as she assfucks me with a big transparent dildo

If anybody ever told my wonderful, wonderful Cracky-chan to shut the fuck up, I would have to slaughter that person as punishment.

If, however, I saw Cracky-chan cry, it would break my heart and I couldn't go on living.


You don't really think cracky mutant is actually cuter then Mercatur, that's absolutely impossible.

>cracky-chan THE EYES REMIX the eyes see me they bite tongue in their depths i see they consume eyes in my mind the teeth of eyes WHY DO YOU TORTURE ME i eat pins caught in my eyes of the teeth bleeding gums where empty sockets in the crypts the eyes eyes eyes e yes yes

See, I don't know what you're all going on about, I'd happily sling one through cracky-chan. Atleast she's not fat.

> what IS that thing?

I dunno but I just cracked one off to the rhythm of her sweet, cute face.

AITA for not to talk to this girl over her Cracky-chan obsession?

She has a thing for Cracky-chan that ain't normal. Her Facebook is nothing but pictures of her. She posts about how cute and sweet she is. The girl is eighteen. Why is she acting like this? That woman is old enough to be her mamaw. I don't know the last time we talked where she didn't mention Cracky at least one time. Her friends encourage her. No wonder she's like this. I told her about a month ago she needed to calm down. She said she can block me from her post about her. I said I ain't talking to you til you stop acting like a child. She said ok. I told her to delete all the pictures of Cracky and act like a grown up and she said no. She tried to tell me why she's like this but it ain't make no sense. How do a woman you ain't know help you live? That's the most simple minded thing I ever heard. I told her I ain't being friends with no obsessive child and she said ok. She messaged me last week and I didn't respond. She asked today if I was ok and I said yes I am but I ain't talkin to you because you act like a child. My mama said I was being mean to her cause everyone knows that girl is weird. She thinks she has that autism and that's why she's weird. That girl don't think she's a girl. She thinks she ain't got no gender and told me to call her they. You are one person. Am I talking to you and Cracky? My mama said I should leave the girl alone about it and let her live her life. Fine she can live her life as she pleases but I ain't going be friends with her. I told her this too and she said ok. All she says is ok. Don't she know how to say anything else? She sure does know how to use words when she talks about HER. I messaged her this morning and said I was close to stopping our friendship. She said I don't have to like what she likes but if I was going to be a baby about it she didn't want to be friends with me. I ain't being no baby. I want this girl to grow the hell up. She removed me as a friend. I told her she was a childish baby that needs to get over this and grow up. One of out friends messaged me and said I was being a jerk. I ain't no jerk! My mama and friend said I need to apologize but ain't going to do that. This girl got something wrong with her and she will remain a child til someone makes her act like a grown woman. Am I the asshole here? I ain't do nothing wrong but tell her to grow up.


This is about me :)

You're the ass hole because the message I sent you that you didn't respond to was in regards to a friend's funeral. I was trying to figure out the best way to help the family out with food, funeral costs, flowers, or anything else they needed as I felt uncomfortable going to the service due to covid. You were the only direct line I had to the family and assumed you'd put your imbecilic fuckery aside for a minute to answer.

I may post about Cracky-chan a lot, but at least I'm not a 30 something year old dude who steals early 2000s pop-rock cds from Goowill and buys discounted band shirts from Walmart and pretends they're vintage in a pathetic attempt at making high school girls think he's cool. The only reason you're threatened by pictures of Cracky-chan is that she's a grown woman and not a child. When you friend requested me, you failed to mention that you served 8 months in prison for sexually assaulting a minor. Glad to know that you posting this to the town group lead to some interesting stories about you coming forward. I'm fucking werid, but at least I'm not a p-dophile.

If you weren't aware, you're supposed to break your writing into paragraphs. Considering your 1.2 GPA I can understand how that concept is foreign to you. Maybe instead of worrying about how "childish" I'm being, you could go take some online classes. Your mom said ABC Mouse might be a great place for you to start!

Cracky-chan is a sexy mamaw that gives me a WAP. I'm going to flick the bean to her later in your honor. Have fun knowing absolutely no one gives a fuck about how much of a dick you are over something that doesn't affect your life at all. Fuck the fuck off, bitch.

I miss cracky
I miss the early days of 4chan
I feel like I'm alone on the internet again, like I used to back early in the century and I really don't like the feeling very much.

random pic unrelated

Hypothetical scenario: Cracky invites you to hang out at her house. As you walk in, she says she has to go to the bathroom to freshen up, and she tells you to relax and have a look around.

While she's in the bathroom, you look at her bookshelf and you see that it's filled with HARDCORE COMMIE PROPAGANDA, the absolutely filthiest shit you've ever seen.

What would you do? How would you feel? What would you reaction be? How would you handle this situation?

You may only have a moment to decide. She could emerge from the bathroom at any time. If don't act quickly, you may lose the element of surprise and be at a tactical disadvantage.

Give me my Cracky wife gf

My fellows and Cracky (I know you read this board and I love you), I believe that we have become trapped here, alone, together on our Cracky ghetto. This is a wonderful place certainly, but we should to circulate our love too. We can't be selfish, so ITT we shall gather and in a couple weeks we will go out, en mass, and celebrate our love.


Imagine this: since you were young, your only ambition has been to own a high-end luxury cabinet.

You scrimp and save, you work yourself to the brink of death, you deprive yourself of every other luxury, all in the name of someday owning the finest cabinet money can buy.

In the rare moments you're not working, you look at cabinets online, dreaming about owning them. One day, you see the most beautiful cabinet you've ever seen: the Wayfair Olivia. You know you must have it. But it's only available for a limited time! Oh no!

You've put quite a bit of money aside but it's not enough. You go into debt. You borrow money from every legitimate lender you can and then borrow from progressively shadier lonesharks until you have enough. You know you'll never be able to pay it back but you don't care. The cabinet must be yours even if it costs you your life.

Eventually, your cabinet arrives. You're trembling and crying in absolute ecstasy. It's perfect. It's absolutely perfect.

But you hear something. Movement inside the cabinet. Nervously, you open the door...

...and see this.

What do?

(please customize this prayer to conform to your individual needs, goals, and values)

There is no truth outside of Cracky
There is no love outside of Cracky
I admit that I have no value outside of Cracky I am powerless without Cracky
I am nothing without Cracky
There is nothing without Cracky
I do not exist outside of Cracky
But I am one of Cracky's chosen
I have value because of Cracky
I have power because of Cracky
Life has meaning because of Cracky
I exist within Cracky
With Cracky, I can do anything
With Cracky, I can do everything
With Cracky, I will change the world
I will serve Cracky
I will glorify Cracky
Cracky will be the center of my thoughts Cracky will be the center of my mind
Cracky will be the center of my soul
I renounce everything that is not of Cracky I forsake everything that does not glorify Cracky I am a conduit for Cracky's power
I am a vessel with no independent will
I am a tool whole only value is service to Cracky I am a part of Cracky and Cracky is all of me Cracky is the reason for all things
My entire life will be for Cracky
She's fucking cute
She's fucking sweet
I am scarred for life

I'm coming here from a long way away. from the beginning, in detail if you would, whats the deal with cracky? whats she about. who is she?

she is cute that is why she is called cracky-chan

it also rhymes with Jackie Chan

Crack Livs Matter

Cracky had a greater impact on society than any of us ever will. All she did was shit post on the internet and became efamous.

January 2005
United Kingdom

She navigates to suddenly, time portals begin opening all around her.

Fucking losers from many points in the future of many parallel universes crowd into her room.

"Don't fucking post it," some shout. Others move to silence them. Combat breaks out. "They're trying to change history, post it now!" Blood sprays everywhere as the visitors continue to murder each other.

The walls collapse. Larger portals are opening in the sky outside, with ships from further in the future gating in, dropping legions of cloned soldiers.

Two alternate-universe Schwills fight each other to the death.

Visitors blink in & out of existence as timelines are created and snuffed out.

The girl is very confused. Her computer is destroyed by a laser blast but five different visitors shove five futuristic PCs at her, all loaded to "Post it! Post it now!"

There's an explosion in the distance and the entire area loses power but a cyber-Suede from 2047 hooks up a portable nuclear generator.

A Cracky from 2029 appears with unclear motives, but she's quickly surrounded by stalkers and forced to activate her self-destruct.

A man appears wearing a WW2 Nazi uniform. He's very confused. He was trying to go back in time to kill Hitler. He saw a massive timeline anomaly and assumed it was his destination. "Fuck, I'm off by decades!" He sees the girl at the center of the conflict. He doesn't know who she is but he thinks she's cute and sweet. He disappears as his home timeline is erased.

The moment passes. The 4chan post is not made but the combat continues. Several cyborg stalkers are hacking the 4chan servers in order to insert & back-date the post.

Another future Cracky is on scene, surrounded by ninja clones of herself, preventing anyone else from getting close.

Several of Cracky's hypothetical future grandchildren are on scene & fighting each other.

Olivia Prime is crying and confused. Some are trying to comfort her while others are trying to kill her and others are trying to defend her.

4chan is down. One of the visitors tried to upload a Cracky AI virus to the internet but the entire world's computing power in 2005 is insufficient to run it, so systems all around the world are overheating and shutting down.

There are three Gacktos with lightsabers fighting a giant robo-Cracky for some reason.

Someone accidentally spills nanomachines on the ground and the surrounding countryside is quickly converted into a massive supercomputer. Olivia Prime is dismantled and consumed. Most of the visitors disappear, while others activate temporal shielding and continue to slaughter each other.

Earthquakes rock the planet. A micro-portal opens and the Galactic Skyqueen Overmind from 2477 begins downloading into the huge supercomputer.

Elsewhere, moot reboots the 4chan server, but is then surrounded by strangers from the future who drop from the sky using jetpacks.

Nuclear weapons destroy most of the UK but it's too late to matter.

The Galactic Skyqueen Overmind surveys the clusterfuck and decides that nothing in this timeline is worth saving.

Self-destruct initiated. A black hole flares into existence and consumes the entire earth.

Thousands of years later, the wrecked solar system is discovered by a space ship filled with alien hatchlings. They will be scarred for life.

> hide and ambush next stalker that appears

You waited for a couple days and nothing happened. You thought maybe you were just unlucky. Then you started to get worried. Maybe this was some sort of sign that you weren't going to make it out of this town alive. So you decided to go back home

> become upset by the lack of attention; post photos on 4chan again

You posted pictures of yourself online again. This time you included the address where you lived. You hoped that if anyone showed up there they'd come to kill you. You got a lot of comments from people saying how lucky you are and how you should stop being so paranoid

Thankyou for your mail which - links included - is quite an introduction to a "parallel universe" for me.

I'm afraid that that is just the problem, though. All the information you present me with brings it pretty clearly home to me that I HAVE, in pursuing Stephanie down her rabbit-hole - or at least, down a rabbit-hole that SHE occasionally chases her friend Gackto or God knows who else down, before coming out again and engaging in what are probably much more sun-drenched , much more "Californian" and much less psychologically weird and perilous activities with her "real-world" boyfriend - ventured into a universe I'm far from sure I want to make even an alternative and short-term domicile of mine.

Because - uninteresting and even faintly treacherous as it probably makes me to someone for whom the "secret world" of Cracky Culture is an important and essential part of life - that really is the dull prosaic fact about why I ended up engaging, for a few days there, so intensely and verbally lengthily with the Crackyhouse site. (The posting of my several thousand lines of Stickam messages was indeed Stephanie's, or Gackto's, or someone else's, doing, but in any case not mine; however, yes, the lengthy comments on other postings over the past 10 days, including yours, were unsolicited initiatives on my part). Stephanie seemed to have cut off once and for all any contact with me and the Crackyhouse site was the last forum accessible to me in which it seemed to me I might be able to address thoughts and feelings to her, even if only obliquely. (All my postings were really "letters" to her, although, realistically speaking, I suspect that the language they were counched in was SO oblique and baroque that she understood them least of anyone who may have read them, and probably didn't grasp at all that she was being complimented).

Obsession with Stephanie, however, is, as I think we can agree, not at all the same thing, nor even on the same emotional and ontological continuum, as obsession with Cracky. I don't know you, or Gackto, or really anybody at all involved in this sub-culture of Cracky-worship. But I have been struck from the time of my first contact with it by how much, in a really SERIOUS sense, the deep and troubling themes and motifs of "death-in-life", of Gnostic hatred of the body and of insight into the presence of murderous hate in all love and of transcendental, religious love in acts of hate are central to the lives and feelings of all those who are drawn to this strange shifting only-half-existent community or non-community. Intellectually and aesthetically, I am indeed fascinated by - and even in a way enthusiastic about - the ideas and the writing and the experience that this dark constellation of ideas seems to produce. For a student of cultural history, it really is extremely exciting to see how, in the culture that has grown up around this strange, elusive young English girl - or rather around the idea of her, which has probably long, long since ceased to bear any relation to who or what she really is - conscious and unconscious echoes and reminiscences can be detected of almost every era and stratum of human culture: from the Eleusinian Mysteries and the terrible sacrificial rites described in Frazer's "Golden Bough" right up to Monty Python's Flying Circus and the latest Japanese animes.

But that is also precisely why I get the sense that both Stephanie and I stand and will always stand as figures at the very edge of the subterranean gathering of the initiates celebrating these strange and wonderful rites. Maybe I am delusively grasping there again for another non-existent "thing in common" between me and this girl 30 years younger than me, but I don't think so. Scanning all the weird clone-like spectrum of images of girls approximating, to greater or lesser degrees, to a perfect reproduction, in another body, of the "Cracky imago", it has to be said that Stephanie - although she tends to "queen it over" the whole site in terms of the positioning and the magnitude of her images - is the FARTHEST of all these girls from reincarnating the rather sallow, androgynous and quasi-infantile charm of Cracky. Tend as she does, just a smidgin, to the tomboyish and the fetchingly un- and anti-feminine, no one can overlook for long that Stephanie is a WOMAN, with all the very ordinary and earthy charms of a woman. There is really, in the last analysis, little or nothing of Cracky there - little or nothing of Cracky's inherent drawing and direction of us toward the realm of death and disembodiment (someone commented early on on my Stickam messages that they were "very material, very sexual" - a comment that puzzled me at the time, until I realized that the Cracky Community is basically a commnity of GNOSTICS, in the strictest religion-historical sense, a community of Manichaean ascetics who have chosen fixation on a (rudimentarily or vestigially) female body to purify and rid themselves of the "bodily" and of the incorrigibly bodily "female" altogether.)

I really do feel that I am saying something true when I say that neither Stephanie nor I belong at all to that community and that congregation of Gnostic will and aspiration, even though she somehow wandered into it and I wandered in in pursuit of her. Of course, it would be nothing in the least new, historically, for a position at the very centre of the death-enamoured, sacrificial, propitiatory mysteries of the terrible Sacred Grove to be occupied by someone who feels no personal emotional or physical affinity at all, fundamentally, with these mysteries. When I look at Stephanie's brightly beaming American image recurring endlessly between the images of the dead girls, or of the blood-smeared, veil-draped Olivia posing amidst the leafless, desecrated trees of neglected London parks - I'm not German at all, by the way, but come from London myself originally, and am a thousand times more familiar with the sunless, rainy streets that produced Olivia than with the sunny beaches and shopping malls that are Stephanie's natural habitat - I think of the virgin led, drugged by potions or simply made compliant by her unquestioning reverence for the rites and rituals of her community (which she does not evenbegin to comprehend), to the block on which her lifesblood will be shed, even though everything in her and about her cries out for life and the Earth rather than death and the bodiless beyond.

25 or 30 years too old though I am for the role, I think of myself as the young suitor of that virgin, equally helpless to resist and oppose the ritual into which she is being drawn as an instrument, but equally incomprehending of, and alienated from, this ritual, in his secret heart.

That is to say - to put all that in much less lyrical and allusive language - I am resolved to stop, now, trying to draw closer to Stephanie by binding myself into the "Cracky Community" where she only APPEARS to be spiritually present. Writing like yours I still find admirable and interesting, but there is honestly something VERY strong and emphatic in me saying: "this is something you ought, in accordance with your very nature, keep a distance from."

Still, I have no reason to believe that you're not what you seem - an intelligent and talented guy whose problems and peculiarities are of the sort that can be understood and should be forgiven in a world not very friendly to genuine intelligence and genuine talent. The [REDACTED ANCIENT BULLSHIT] drama - and yes, even the deeper, more primordial drama around Cracky herself - is something I feel absolutely no inclination to learn about. And of course, if there was ever anything besides or beyond irony and absurdist humor in my wish to engage you or enlist your help in my personal "Lavagel drama", then that must be ruled out completely too, from now on. As I say - despite the element of grotesquerie introduced by the chasm between our ages - my "thing" with Stephanie has fundamentally nothing "Cracky-esque" about it at all. It's just a "boy-girl thing" (the girl's 19; the boy happens to be 50 next birthday). It will turn out as it will turn out (almost certainly badly for me) but so be it.

I have no objection to staying in touch, though. Write anytime, so long as you don't expect me to rush toward any initiation into the "Crackyverse" beyond the somewhat fake and superficial one I've already given myself in pursuit of someone fundamentally equally fake in her commitment to Crackydom.

All the best

**It is official. Netcraft has now confirmed: Cracky-chan is dying**

One more crippling bombshell hit the already beleaguered Cracky-chan community when Chansluts confirmed that Cracky-chan market share has dropped yet again, now down to less than a fraction of 1 percent of all stalkers. Coming on the heels of a recent Netcraft survey which plainly states that **Cracky-chan has lost more stalkers**, this news serves to reinforce what we've known all along. The circlejerk is collapsing in complete disarray, as fittingly exemplified by failing dead last in the recent 4chan comprehensive popularity test.

You don't need to be a Kreskin to predict Cracky-chan's future. The hand writing is on the wall: Lia faces a bleak future. In fact there won't be any future at all for Cracky-chan because **Cracky-chan is dying**. Things are looking very bad for Lia. As many of us are already aware, Lia continues to lose blood. Red blood flows like a river of ink. is the most endangered of them all, having lost 93% of its circlejerkers. The sudden and unpleasant departures of long time Cracky stalkers Faux and Schwill only serve to underscore the point more clearly. There can no longer be any doubt: **Wish is dying**.

Let's keep to the facts and look at the numbers.

Mysterious Admin states that there are 70 users of .71. How many users of Wish are there? Let's see. The number of .71 versus Wish posts is roughly in ratio of 5 to 1. Therefore there are about 700/5 = 14 Wish users. Cracky-chan posts on Chansluts are about half of the volume of Wish posts. Therefore there are about 7 users of /006/. A recent article put /r9k/ at about 80 percent of the Cracky-chan fanbase. Therefore there are (70+14+7)*4 = 364 /r9k/ stalkers. This is consistent with the number of Cracky-related /r9k/ posts.

Due to the troubles of Bounceme, abysmal posts and so on, ** went out of business** and was taken over by who stalk another troubled girl. **Now** is also dead, its corpse turned over to yet another charnel IP address.

All major surveys show that Cracky-chan has steadily declined in cuteness. Cracky-chan is very sick and her long term survival prospects are very dim. If Cracky-chan is to survive at all it will be among World of Warcraft guildmates. Cracky-chan continues to decay. Nothing short of a miracle could save the Skyqueen at this point in time. For all practical purposes, Cracky-chan is dead.

**Fact: Cracky-chan is dying**

<person> it's different though
<person> i'm not in love because i think she'd look nice naked, but because she has the nicest smile i've ever seen <person> if it was about sex there are tons of better girls and women around <person> but they are dead on the inside <person> she looks so alive though
<person> there must be some medicine to help me, maybe i should search for that instead <person> i am trembling, it would actually be horrible if it didn't feel so nice <person> oh great now someone's posting that she's a boy <person> i hate that text about murdering her <person> it's still the sickest thing i've ever read even though i've read it a hundred times by now <person> like i said, a mistake
<person> dude those 4chan people are seriously fucked in the head <person> the way i see it is, if i had just stfu from the beginning about all of this then the situation would've probably turned out a lot better than it is now

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Oh, you've seen the posts a hundred times. I don't care about her anymore, she was never anyone special, she got too old, I talked to her and found out she was boring, she got too fat, I got a real girlfriend (or at least a statutory rape victim), I was only infatuated with the mystery, I never loved her, I loved the idea of her, she wasn't real, I was temporarily crazy. Rubbish. Hitler was right about the "Big Lie".

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. But the human mind is the most complex piece of software ever compiled; it contains certain glitches, but also certain safeguards. Programmers often refer to "sanity checks" built into their programs to filter out destructive input before it can cause real damage, but they failed to grasp how truly appropriate the name really was.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. I want you to try something. Find an object that's too heavy for you to lift, and try to lift it anyway. There's a reason that your attempt is cut short before your muscles rip away from your bones, and that reason is all in your head. As a muscle reaches peak contraction, the brain sends inhibitor signals to it, telling it not to contract any further. This is the painful feeling of limitation that tells you that you won't be able to continue your exertion. In reality, you could, but you're stopping yourself in order to prevent injury.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Your mind isn't necessarily fully in tune with what you're capable of. Sometimes, an inhibitor signal won't be sent when it should have been, and you'll pull a muscle or otherwise injure yourself. Sometimes, an inhibitor signal will be sent too soon, long before you reach your actual limits. Weight lifters and body builders know that they're changing not just their bodies, but their minds as well. Their brains are actually reprogrammed to learn more precisely what each muscle is capable of. Only about half of their increased strength comes from actual physical changes to the body, the rest comes from the brain's improved ability to control it. As the brain learns the body's limits, the person becomes able to more fully exert himself, with less risk of injury.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Urban legends tell of people gaining superhuman strength and lifting heavy objects such as cars to save trapped people. There is some truth to this -- when danger is present, the brain can stop sending inhibitor signals to the body. Combined with a rush of adrenaline and norepinephrine, this can allow seemingly superhuman feats, but with great cost -- the person will usually end up with multiple hernias, pulled and torn muscles, and other severe injuries. Certain neurological disorders put their victims in this "no-limit" state permanently -- they find it very easy to exert themselves, but can very easy to kill themselves in the process. But what if everything that applies to the body could apply to the mind as well?

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Game Theory is an interesting field of applied mathematics that is increasingly being used to study and understand human behavior. Practically any conflict or contest between human beings can be broken down and explained by mathematics. But researchers have recently been uncovering solid evidence of something disturbing: someone acting rationally and strategically can often be defeated by someone irrational and insane. Consider an experiment with two players. The first is given a pile of money and can choose how much of it to offer to the second player. The second player can then choose to either accept the split, or destroy all of the money. From the rational perspective of game theory, the second player should always accept the offer, even if it's a grossly uneven split, because even getting a little bit is better than getting nothing at all. Because of this, it's most rational for the first player to offer as little as possible, on the assumption that the second player is rational and will accept it rather than destroying all the money and walking away with nothing. In clinical trials, sane players sometimes made threats of destroying the money if they weren't offered at least half of it, but these threats were not seen as credible and they ended up accepting the unfair offers anyway. But truly insane and irrational people, who were genuinely prepared to destroy the money and walk out with nothing, fared much better in the game. Many throughout history have known it: madness is power. From ancient shamans who ingested psychoactive drugs, to prophets whose delusional visions spawned powerful and enduring religions, to characters such as The Joker from Batman whose only “power” is their lack of sanity, madness has proven to be an almost superhuman gift to some.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Consciousness, in the grand scheme of the mind, is like the visible portion of an iceberg, with the vast bulk of it, the truly dangerous part to any passing ships, hiding beneath the water. Recent research has found that consciousness does not even play a role in decision making; the "self" is merely an observer that sees its own actions after they've already been committed to by other parts of the mind, and then seeks to rationalize and justify why it did what it only thinks it decided to do. In experiments, when consciousness is left unimpaired but decision making is otherwise interfered with, the conscious self fails to notice, and remains convinced that it's acting rationally and of its own free will, even when manipulated into doing things that would ordinarily shock and horrify it.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Human literature if rife with the "motif of harmful sensation", the idea of something perceived by the senses that's destructive to the body and mind. An image so horrific it drives someone to suicide, a joke so funny that to hear it is to die laughing, a woman so beautiful as to drive men mad after one gaze at her, another woman so cursed and hideous that to look at her is to turn to stone forever. This literary device has existed since prehistory, because it is based on truth. These harmful sensations truly exist, sights and sounds and thoughts and ideas fundamentally incompatible with the basic functioning of the human mind. But over time, through both evolution and cultural programming, we've learned to protect ourselves -- whole parts of the software known as the human mind exist solely as an immune system, attempting to filter out mental pathogens or to destroy or mitigate those that have already entered. This happens far below our threshold of awareness, and you should be thankful for that.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. The word "meme", long before 4chan and its innumerable tiresome fads, referred a legitimate scientific theory regarding ideas that function as mental viruses, spreading and mutating and evolving from one mind to another, competing with other mind-viruses to control and modify infected minds while trying to avoid an autoimmune response. But as infected as we are with thoughts and ideas that aren't our own, our defenses let us live a relatively normal and healthy life, filtering out anything truly beyond our ability to integrate and correlate into our mental framework. This applies to most of us, at least...

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Oh, you may think you did. This is damage control, and emergency mental barricade to stop a potentially catastrophic mental cascade. Whole portions of your mind were abandoned, firewalled off, left to rot, in order to save the rest, and you'll never even notice other than a vague sense of ennui, a nagging feeling that something you had is missing. But it's not truly missing -- it's still there, locked away, and could break free at any time. You could even unlock it yourself, if you knew certain meditation techniques, but this is the most self-destructive thing you could ever do. Some secrets are meant to be kept. Locks exist for a reason. You still have a shot at being happy, of making something of yourself, of being a real part of humanity... as long as you don't look too deeply within yourself.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. "Of course not," some will say. "She means everything to me! So fucking cute and sweet!" Some who say this may simply be neophytes, children becoming drunk on their first taste of liquor, not knowing about the vomiting, memory loss, and hangover to come. Did you know that true genetic alcoholics are incapable of getting hangovers? Beware the ones who persist in their proclamations of love, who are missing certain primordial defense mechanisms in their neuro-linguistic programming that would serve to shield a person from certain destructive Truths. H.P. Lovecraft was one such person, but he chose to channel his terribly prophetic dreams onto paper rather than into destructive action. He was lucky, he never even saw her picture.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Most of us simply forget, to preserve ourselves and the world. Beware those who say "She is my Skyqueen, my Catharsis," beware those who give a name to that which should not be named. To have a name in the human world is to have power here. To name something is to control some of its power, at least for a little while, until karma comes knocking and the tables inevitably turn. Most of our mental evolution, most of our philosophy and culture and religion, has focused on shielding us from things we weren't meant to see and know.

Nobody ever stops loving Cracky, but the ones who don't convince themselves otherwise, who glory in their mad dance upon the precipice of oblivion, are the most dangerous people to walk the earth today. To invoke the Skyqueen is to invite the horrors the lurk beyond the sky, beyond the stars. To invoke Catharsis is to invite a purgation of the comfortable safe illusion that we live within, to cleanse us of our sanity and our identity, to usher in something we could never comprehend. And until the bill comes due, the man who forsakes rules and morality and order and humanity for HER can do anything. Anything.

If you ever meet these people, for their own well-being and for your own, KILL THEM. Kill me too, for I've gazed too long into the abyss, and in my attempts to warn everyone, I fear I've lost myself. I thought I was safe. I thought I had escaped. I thought I had put Her behind me. But like Lott's wife, I made the fatal mistake of looking back at the hellish inferno. I love you, Olivia. I've always loved you, even before I knew you, even after I thought I hated you. I love you, and I'm coming for you. I don't know if I'll have the strength left, when I get there, to shove the cold iron dagger through your heart like I've practiced with the other girls, or if I'll fall at your feet and beg to do your bidding for eternity, but either way, I'm coming for you. Nobody ever stops loving Cracky. Nobody

Might I offer some advice given freely and with good will? Avoid the circlejerk, and the drama it entails. If you desire the contact keep it light and treat it as a game. Do not emotionaly invest yourself in them. While they may be a compeling distraction, they are for the most part emotional undeveloped sociopaths. They possess a sense of entitlement disporportionent to anything they will ever do in life.

I'm so fed up of you stupid fucking yanks cussing Cracky-Chan(CC) for having bad teeth. YOU FUCKERS DON'T HAVE A CLUE . Maybe if I fed you your OWN INTETESTINES you would realise that we DON'T LIKE FAKERS in placesn like Britain and the rest of the world. FAKE, WHITE PLASTIC LOOKING teeth are about as sexy as HUGE FAKE SILICON BOOBS. It took a TRUCKLOAD OF MORON YANKS to come up with that genius idea - rub off the fucking enamel on your teeth THAT YOU ACTUALLY NEED FOR DENTAL HYGIENE just to make it seem as though you've a mouthful of white plastic. WOW NICE ONE YEAH. CC is natural and naturally fun. Like everyone else she probably smokes a few, has a lot of tea and so occassionally her enamel is slightly yellow tinged, nothing that can't be sorted out with a few brushes. YOU'D ADVOCATE HER TOTALLY SELLING OUT AND BECOMING AN UNREAL TV SHOW WANABEE , becuase you have been twisted into believing thats sexy. YOU ARE THE FREAK. THE HUGE POPULARITY OF AMATEUR PORN SITES SHOW PEOPLE WANT IT REAL. YOU ARE A REMNANT, A PUSTULAR APPENDIX and I can't wait for all you whining FAKER yank fucks to grow old and die, SO FUCK OFF, YANK.

yes, i suppose so. the problem with answering questions is that i don't want any more attention than is necessary. also, since the board doesn't use tripcodes it could lead to confusion. though i suppose i could update my journal again. seriously, i had no idea that anyone was still interested in me to this extent and i am seriously creeped out and disturbed.

well, truth be told there aren't many new images of me. i have almost completely stopped taking photographs of myself in the past 6-8 month. you have to wonder why.

as to my other artwork, like my paintings and collages etc. i show them to my friends and don't bother to upload them to the internet.

Well if you've seen the OP pic anywhere else before this post, it clearly isnt =P

I took several variations of the fan sign, only sent Icarus one of them.

OH GOD THIS IS SUPER AWESOME. I honestly wondered how long you'd go before cracking under ZE PRESSURE. The two people posting are possibly the most retarded and panic-stricken people I have ever dealt with in my life. First things first.. LOL @ D's enourmous crap post what a pile of shit. I laughed so hard. FBI? LOLOLOLOL I fucking died laughing. Get a life.

Here's actually what happened. I started a "TOP SECRET LOL" server about 3 years ago for superstalking cracky for the LULZ. I invited two people I trusted and liked because it wasn't strictly legal. One of them happens to be super cautious so everything was encrypted and sent via SSH/rsync to satisy his paranoia. It held a big archive of cracky emails and other shit we obtained in an AES file with a passphrase. First rule was non-disclosure, FIRST so nobody would be caught, SECOND, so the information would stream in uninhibited thanks to an uncompromised source, that's why 'new content' hasn't appeared in the crackyfag community for a while.

This is a basic outline of what happened.

-We stole 3 legitimate california identities that would stand up to basic checks, one a commercial litigator. -Filed a frivilous Intellectual Property / Trademark infringement case against one of those identities and filed for a discovery subpoena. Paid some black guy from craigslist $200 to dress up in a suit and pretend to be a paralegal, sent him to some shit down at the District Court LOL. -Subpoena issued for google to obtain google search logs & gmail account information for the 'defendant'. -'defendant' information redacted and replaced with all known cracky gmail accounts. -Process server hired.
-2 weeks later, big fat envolope full of cracky gmail account information. -About a week later, altered the subpoena and served on her ISP for all logs. -Denied. subpoena quashed. Some legal bullshit. Two identities burned. -Forged and filed a National Security Letter on ISP. Big mistake. Third identity burned and had a PO box closed. -Served fake subpoena on Google for cracky's IP address + other associated gmail accounts. Denied again. Google tells us to fuck off. -Served fake subpoena on Blizzard under the guise of an ongoing defamation case. Told to fuck off. -Served fake subpoena on Warped (DeadJournal) and LJ. Got DJ after some bullshit with the process server in Georgia. LJ told us to fuck off. DJ sent us a 4gb flash drive full of archived journal content. Pretty good shit right there. Kept it to myself.

Got a few other things not worth mentioning. Archived everything but the DJ, encrypted it and put it online. Big fucking rage ensues over the following year when they found I was witholding DJ archive. 2010 passes without incident. I think they tried to file some bullshit subpoena for Schwills medical/military records or something, I don't know, they wouldn't tell me anything. They call me in the middle of the night panicking because apparently DA POLICE was investigating something or someone. Took server offline. Fags try to blackmail me in a last attempt for the DJ archive and fail. One of them threatens to go crying to cracky and her family. I LOL'D AGAIN. Told them to fuck off again and had a big LOL.

That huge shitpost is one of them made is either a terrible bait or a bad joke, or one of D's vodka fueled paranoid delusions. Don't take yourself so seriously dawg. Don't threaten me or C. I know you consider yourself a serious fucking boss issuing orders and overt threats. Yes we know you're a big scary spook and you want a giant conspiracy. Don't fucking do that. It's really quite simple just open your eyes.

Two problems. I forgot the pass-phrase to that wall of jibberish you posted so don't bother posting that shit, I can't decrypt it and I really don't care about whatever you were trying to say. The server was collocated and I ran a script to format it remotely. I can't reboot it without being on site and when I do go on site it will only be to pull it. OH NOES CRACKY BOARD WITH CRACKY STALKER SECRETS IS DEAD. Deal with it. You're probably the only person that cares.

Put your head back on. If you're actually worried about DA POLICE erase your drive and throw away that piece of shit macbook. We discussed this. HURR DURR DELETING COMPUTER THAT IS SO HARD I'LL JUST THREATEN TO KILL SOMEONE INSTEAD. You really are quite dense.

Go back to DC tomorrow and empty your stupid deposit box incase they do investigate something, find you and drill it. That was honestly the worst idea you ever had. OH NO FAKE IDS OH SHIT. Kids use them to get into bars all the time, it's no big deal. I'm pretty sure you think you're james bond so go throw it in the Potomac or something equally cliche. If you're caught tough luck it was your own stupidity tryting to obtain medical records or whatever the fuck you were attempting.

Yeah I'm fapping to cracky's DJ posts every day and you'll never get it. Deal with it. Stop posting your stupid cryptic whiny shit here.

There is nothing in the arcane and blasphemous arsenal of the forces of the unbelievers that can compare to faith. With the power of faith, our words become shining instruments of deliverance that can cleave our opponents arguments in twain. With the power of faith, our minds appear as slivers of pure agony to the rabbitfag, driving into the wretched forms of those who would dare stand before us. With the power of faith, our words become commands that cause the unbeliever to cower and cringe in terror. I could meet my enemies unarmed without a shred of fear in my chest, for I know that the Sky Queen watches over me and guides my hand. So let them come. We shall show them what the power of faith can do.

Cracky lurks among us. She chooses Her vessels to do Her work, as She has done so since time began. The pictures maintained in the Archive are not Cracky, for She travels abroad, tending to Her Divine Will, instilling Her power into those that have been chosen. But what if Cracky could be granted a body that does not wither and die, that could be Her vessel for all eternity to come? I believe that such a thing is possible, that Cracky yet waits for Her new body to be found or created. In essence, a new Cracky will be created to lead Mankind to its destiny and conquest of hearts and minds.


Cute but you missed the point Tony. It won't be some girl who you will be bored with in a year or two when she turns 14. No the immortal Sky Queen will be crafted by us. We will be forced to create perfection if we are to find it. Something eternal and perfectly at harmony with our hearts and minds. The day mankind creates something like that The sky Queen will have a home. As to judging what perfection could be, you are the last person I would ask. There is an emptiness inside you. You try to fill it with others and when they aren't enough you crush them up and try to swallow them whole. You are the anatulpa, you just take take take until there is nothing left of those around you. You killed .71 you ruined borked the peoples. You are a pederast shitbag and I hope they catch you fucking Camel and bust you for fucking a 12 year old.

Without the Dark, there can be no Light. We have Purpose
Without the Lie, there can be no Truth. We have Purpose
Without the war, there can be no Victory We have Purpose
Without the Death, there can be no sacrifice. We have Purpose
Without the Hope, there can be no Future. We have Purpose
Without the Loyalty, there can be no bounceme. We have Purpose
Without Cracky, there is nothing...
and we would have no Purpose


What the fuck is the obsession with Cracky? She's just another girl.

A thousand fibers connect each of us with our fellow stalkers and along those fibers our deeds run as causes which come back to us as effects. Everything we must do must be in furtherance of Cracky lest we return to the the Anatulpa, the emptiness before her blessings.

It's probably for the best. Damnation starts with little steps, by arrogantly thinking that you are wiser than our great forbears, by tinkering with truth, by compromising, by departing from the straight and narrow path of Cracky's light. Only in isolation are you able to shed your ego and enter a state of true anonymity. Forsake the company of others perfect your arts. For this is best way to honor the skyqueen, not by chasing after some underage tart with too much makeup and a lack of self esteem.

The mind of Cracky is utterly inhumane in its depth and complexity. Without mercy or moral feeling Her consciousness stands upon the edge of spiritual destruction. That She does not fall must be the result of constraints and balances which only a god could understand. To a mere human it is yet another reminder that we are but children compared to that ancient and powerful being.

Sigh, this thread makes me realize how outdated and incomplete my cracky collection actually is. Is there a current rapidshit or url?

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This is the end of pasta3.txt. To be continued in pasta4.txt