Fractured Resurgence (3/10 M, 10/10H) is recruiting to fill out its roster for Mythic raiding on Proudmoore. We are a CE oriented guild in need of a few good people to replace some of our departing folks who have “irl” commitments. Our raid times are T/Th 9-12 PST. If interested contact Bigwhoop#1156 in game
We are currently in need of the following:
Healer: Holy Paladin Disc Priest Resto Druid
DPS: Warlock, Rogue, Shadow Priest (High), Fire Mage
Because we only raid 2 days a week, at least 90% raid attendance is expected, but we do recognize that things happen. As for other expectations, be aware of your class and spec, mechanics over parses especially on progression bosses and be nice, but not like Patrick Swayze in Road House nice. That would be too creepy.
I would like to thank the academy…
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times…
If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you’ll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don’t feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth
Like most people I lived for a long time with my mother and father. My father liked to watch the wrestling, my mother liked to wrestle: it didn’t matter what. She was in the white corner and that was that
We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold.
The sky turned crimson and the first rays of sunlight illuminated the tops of the trees surrounding the cemetery. Dead bodies care little of sunlight in their dry, concrete lined tombs. Usually.
Squire Trelawney, Dr Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island, from the beginning to the end, keeping nothing back but the bearings of the island, and that only because there is still treasure not yet lifted, I take up my pen in the year of grace 17-, and go back to the time when my father kept the Admiral Benbow inn, and the brown old seaman, with the sabre cut, first took up his lodging under our roof.
Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.
I am too lazy to open a book tonight
Seven dogs, all on leashes, set in a circle watching the cat crouch and hiss in the middle. I wish I was that cat. It’s an audience at least.
Does anyone actually read books anymore
Pretty sure books are passe for people these days
Of course, it is happening inside your head, Harry, but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?
The river flowed like a lazy dog