dirtbag.

So what, no ♥♥♥♥♥♥’ Ziti now?

Nice aim and recoil assist, I'd trade the knife if I were you, wont last much longer.

Josh: The Flaky Counter-Strike Disaster

If you need a Counter-Strike trainer who never replies, flakes constantly, and throws every match, Josh is perfect. Otherwise, look elsewhere.

He hypes up training sessions, then disappears—probably daydreaming about Kelowna instead. When he does show up, he’s bottom-fragging, making awful callouts, or rushing in like a lunatic. It’s like he’s actively trying to lose.

And good luck reaching him. Messaging Josh is like shouting into the void. He never responds, never confirms plans, then acts like it’s my fault. At this point, he’s only training me to play without him.

“The jagged mountains were pure blue in the dawn and everywhere birds twittered and the sun when it rose caught the moon in the west so that they lay opposed to each other across the earth, the sun whitehot and the moon a pale replica, as if they were the ends of a common bore beyond whose terminals burned worlds past all reckoning.”

“The wrath of God lies sleeping. It was hid a million years before men were and only men have the power to wake it. Hell aint half full. Hear me. Ye carry war of a madman’s making onto a foreign land. Ye’ll wake more than the dogs.”