Aggro Me: Friday Humor: Luck of the Irish
Friday Humor: Luck of the Irish
As your friendly neighborhood Aggro heads out to celebrate St. Patrick's Day with a pint of Tier 7 Guinness, I leave you with a few silly Limericks and Toasts:
There was a young wizzie with plat,
But he needed a nice pointy hat;
He jumped for the chain,
Missed - what a pain!
Now he is a wizzie that's flat.
A man had brain power quite minor,
And his knowledge grew finer and finer;
It at last grew so small,
He knew nothing at all,
So he was hired as a game designer!
Once a young noob went inside
The Down Under and promptly died;
The Qeynos Guard quickly raced
To decide on the case,
And ruled that it was "sewercide."
There once was a Swash with a knife,
Who loved traveling on clouds more than strife;
His hand hit the space bar
And he soon fell quite far;
But casting Escape saved his life!
There once were two devs that did fight,
And the land shook well into the night,
The Pirate did harry,
But Moorgard did parry,
And now we know who's in the right!
There are some podcasters who stoop,
To creating a weak Brownie troop.
They served the forces of good,
But they misunderstood,
That Aggroculture would turn them into duck soup.
There was a fierce troll from Big Bend,
That the Teleport Spire did send;
But the Spire did wreck,
And now his neck is in Nek,
While the Bonemire holds his rear end!
There once was a lad from South Q
Whose Limerick stopped at line two.
May the Mender never earn a copper out of you.
May you revive and return before your group even knows you're dead.
May your guildmates respect you,
Aggro neglect you,
Your gear protect you,
And xp groups accept you.
Always remember to forget the xp debt which passes away,
And never forget to remember the vitality which comes each new day.
May the most master chests you wish for be the least that you get.
May your troubles be as few and far apart as an Ogre's teeth.
May you have always have fabled gear, a clear conscience and enough silver in your pocket for a T7 drink.