SHOW YOUR EPIC SOLO WIN

You have to understand that you are just an animal. That has evolved and developed the ability to think. Now we are captured between our thinking and our human nature.

Because we were trained after all these rules of society that were created by thinking. There is no evil or good. Your feelings and instinct just tells you what is normal for a human. Its your human nature.

You have to live after your human nature to be free and happy. You have to neglect your thinking and listen to your human nature.

The truth is youre just an animal like a lion that hunts buffalos. And doesnt think about evil and good when he kills the buffalo. He just lives after his nature which makes him happy.

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If the thinking created the rules of society, then who created society?
 
Yes I quite agree I mean what's the point of being treated like sheep. What's the point of going abroad if you're just another tourist carted around in buses surrounded by sweaty mindless oafs from Kettering and Coventry in their cloth caps and their cardigans and their transistor radios and their Sunday Mirrors, complaining about the tea - "Oh they don't make it properly here, do they, not like at home" - and stopping at Majorcan bodegas selling fish and chips and Watney's Red Barrel and calamari's and two veg and sitting in their cotton frocks squirting Timothy White's sun cream all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh 'cos they "overdid it on the first day."

And being herded into endless Hotel Miramars and Bellvueses and Continentales with their modern international luxury roomettes and draught Red Barrel and swimming pools full of fat German businessmen pretending they're acrobats forming pyramids and frightening the children and barging into queues and if you're not at your table spot on seven you miss the bowl of Campbell's Cream of Mushroom soup, the first item on the menu of International Cuisine, and every Thursday night the hotel has a bloody cabaret in the bar, featuring a tiny emaciated dago with nine-inch hips and some bloated fat tart with her hair brylcreemed down and a big arse presenting Flamenco for Foreigners.

And then some adenoidal typists from Birmingham with flabby white legs and diarrhea trying to pick up hairy bandy-legged wop waiters called Manuel and once a week there's an excursion to the local Roman Remains to buy cherryade and melted ice cream and bleeding Watney's Red Barrel and one evening you visit the so called typical restaurant with local color and atmosphere and you sit next to a party from Rhyl who keep singing "Torremolinos, torremolinos" and complaining about the food - "It's so greasy isn't it?" - and you get cornered by some drunken greengrocer from Luton with an Instamatic camera and Dr. Scholl sandals and last Tuesday's Daily Express and he drones on and on about how Mr. Smith should be running this country and how many languages Enoch Powell can speak and then he throws up over the Cuba Libres.

And sending tinted postcards of places they don't realize they haven't even visited to "All at number 22, weather wonderful, our room is marked with an 'X'. Food very greasy but we've found a charming little local place hidden away in the back streets where they serve Watney's Red Barrel and cheese and onion crisps and the accordionist plays 'Maybe it's because I'm a Londoner'." And spending four days on the tarmac at Luton airport on a five-day package tour with nothing to eat but dried BEA-type sandwiches and you can't even get a drink of Watney's Red Barrel because you're still in England and the bloody bar closes every time you're thirsty and there's nowhere to sleep and the kids are crying and vomiting and breaking the plastic ash-trays and they keep telling you it'll only be another hour although your plane is still in Iceland and has to take some Swedes to Yugoslavia before it can load you up at 3 a.m. in the bloody morning and you sit on the tarmac till six because of "unforeseen difficulties", i.e. the permanent strike of Air Traffic Control in Paris - and nobody can go to the lavatory until you take off at 8, and when you get to Malaga airport everybody's swallowing "enterovioform" and queuing for the toilets and queuing for the armed customs officers, and queuing for the bloody bus that isn't there to take you to the hotel that hasn't yet been finished. And when you finally get to the half-built Algerian ruin called the Hotel del Sol by paying half your holiday money to a licensed bandit in a taxi you find there's no water in the pool, there's no water in the taps, there's no water in the bog and there's only a bleeding lizard in the bidet. And half the rooms are double booked and you can't sleep anyway because of the permanent twenty-four-hour drilling of the foundations of the hotel next door - and you're plagued by appalling apprentice chemists from Ealing pretending to be hippies, and middle-class stockbrokers' wives busily buying identical holiday villas in suburban development plots just like Esher, in case the Labour government gets in again, and fat American matrons with sloppy-buttocks and Hawaiian-patterned ski pants looking for any mulatto male who can keep it up long enough when they finally let it all flop out. And the Spanish Tourist Board promises you that the raging cholera epidemic is merely a case of mild Spanish tummy, like the previous outbreak of Spanish tummy in 1660 which killed half London and decimated Europe - and meanwhile the bloody Guardia are busy arresting sixteen-year-olds for kissing in the streets and shooting anyone under nineteen who doesn't like Franco. And then on the last day in the airport lounge everyone's comparing sunburns, drinking Nasty Spumante, buying cartons of duty free "cigarillos" and using up their last pesetas on horrid dolls in Spanish National costume and awful straw donkeys and bullfight posters with your name on "Ordoney, El Cordobes and Brian Pules of Norwich" and 3-D pictures of the Pope and Kennedy and Franco, and everybody's talking about coming again next year and you swear you never will although there you are tumbling bleary-eyed out of a tourist-tight antique Iberian airplane...
 
Are you proud about jimmy savile. He did whatever he want. He lived after his true nature and people judge him for that. But he didnt choose his nature it was given to him.

He was a human that lived his normal human nature. He raped over 450 people and had sex with death bodies and did a lot of other stuff. And now they act like he was a monster.

 
Jimmy Savile was a CIA pickler, hopefully Terry Davis is running him over in the after life. You see, the problem with people like Jimmy is that they glow in the dark, that is, they are easily identifiable. Jimmy did commit horrible crimes, and to the naive observer he did it in his own self interest, but in reality he was an asset of the United States. He was only murdered because MI6 caught wind of what the CIA was trying to do in the JEW K. A classic subversion tactic, to make the average briton look like a pedophile psychopath.

I am not proud of this person with a long nose, because he sold out the country that he was born in. He lived his true nature as a CIA pickler, a slave to the US, and a slave to the kikes. He had no qualms about it because he knew that he was born to be used. He knew he was a slave, and fulfilled his duty.
 
Well its not even accurate that they call him a pedophile. He had sex with everyone old people young people death bodies. The age and the gender didnt matter for him.

A pedophile is someone that falls in love and only enjoys sex with people before their puberty. Also most of the time a pedophile loves only boys or girls not both. Like a gay men enjoys only sex with men and not with people before their puberty or women.

I guess they called him a pedophile to create more drama. Of course he is a bad guy for everyone so you can call him whatever you want. As long as it has a bad meaning thats the logic behind it.
 
Here you go, my SOLO guru. All I've ever done in ZE is because of you. You're an inspiration to us all.

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Thats good Exodus i m still waiting for Chivas,Aykar,Consolo, and many more to post their epic solo wins here. Like i mentioned they have their 1-4 epic ff map solo wins on their steam frontpage.

Because they are very proud about it. They show them to everyone so they know how good they are. so why not also here in this thread you can show it to more people.
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wait wasnt this thread about solo wins? why are people arguing then? :thinking:

Feel free to write your own opinion about something. As long as it is no calculated opinion to gain other peoples sympathy. Dont care about your reputation. Be true to yourself have your own unique opinion otherwise its boring. Dont be a cocksucker.
 
This fuxking thread.
LMAO

Hey Glacius and Schicksal i m always there for you guys if you need me as a arbiter. I know schicksal is a very ret+rded guy and a attention wh+re . But glacius you are also not very easy. I saw some forum posts and it wasnt nice to see that you both insult each other.

Just write to me and let me know when you need my help as a arbiter. I m sure i can bring you both together again. I will do it for the love and peace of the Unloze community.
 
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