Sacred Haven of Debauchery Auto-translated

First, let my testicles go.

Lisa posted a quote. Saw what was supposedly my post, which I don't remember.

Wow, someone responded to my bump.
But I found a mistake in Vegtam's post – a post that Arandor can't remember because it's my post.

First, I’ll make an omelet out of them.

And then will you let it go?

Yeah. With a frying pan.

Lisa posted a quote. She saw what she thought was my post, but I don't remember it.

And what was it?
Oh dear, I still have some unposted quotes. Will you criticize me if I post them? Nowadays, only old-timers remember about notes.

I'll be posting. You just bump your thread.

about deep thoughts and a bathtub. It's written in all caps there.

Vegtam has it, and that’s the post I was talking about.

Added 52 seconds later
Well, maybe Lizard has it too; I just didn’t notice.

Added 1 minute later
Actually, no. I’m an idiot. I initially confused Veggi’s and Lizki’s quote collections.
Lizki does have an error there, though.

Well, here it is. I knew I would never write such nonsense.

about deep thoughts and a bathtub. It's written in all caps there.

Hmm, no, I'd venture to guess that you forgot what you said yourself – as far as I remember, this happened in the Haven. Besides, who else could have written something like that?

let me take your place in the Mafia game.

I am a master of writing "khunta." I am the chief writer of "khunta." The scribe of "khunta." Cool, I'll name my musical group that. Scribe of Khunta. Khunta's Scribe. Khunta Pi__ets. Name any theme for me, and I will write a "khunta." And a scribe. And a "khunta." I love to write "khuntas," the best rhyming wordsmith has emerged from within me. Khunta, khunta, khunta. Nyanyanya, a beige door usurped a cup of floral tea in order to ride on a pillow of uncertainty into the bloodthirsty expanses of metallic pages of written chairs, a dancing parquet floor, and morph into a jelly-like, insanely vibrant box of flat volumes of a stream of matrixity.
Here, a poplar is eating straw.
Khunta.

Added 2 minutes ago
Copyright >:3
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Hunta the Scribe

This is my band. I play the harmonica and shake maracas, while the kids dance and howl. And my husband, a locksmith, claps his hands in time with the music and smiles at the audience with his gold teeth. That's what kind of family of idiots we are.

Write a hunch: What is Klov thinking about?

Klov doesn't think; he has nothing to think with. But others, who do have brains, constantly and frantically try to think, but they don't think with their brains; they think with their butts. They don't understand why they have a brain in their skull; they don't use it. Their brains have hardened, atrophied; they don't need them. Therefore, Klov, who wants to think honestly with his brain but doesn't have one, takes brains from other people and tries to put together one big mega-brain, because this mega-brain, in terms of its thinking power, will be equal to the brain of an ordinary thinking person, because these weak, never-used brains are not suitable for use individually. Klov still goes around and takes brains from people, and they don't even notice the difference between life before and life after, because they didn't think with their heads before, and they still don't think with their heads now. I wonder what will happen if you take away their butts? Perhaps there is some Klov, let's call him Kvlo, who collects human butts. People will definitely notice the loss of their butt. "This disgusting Kvlo stole my butt, give me back my butt,

Moderated: PROFANITY in the message

!". Maybe then they will start thinking with their heads. By the way, it's not a bad plan to "de-butt" the world so that people start thinking. Kvlo will pull people out of their own crap, and humanity will start thinking correctly! I need to write a book about Kvlo. It's a pity that no one will read it, or they won't understand it, because the thinking abilities of a butt are far from the thinking abilities of a brain. Everyone who doesn't understand the deep meaning of this text thinks with their butt, not with their head. >:3

Added 6 minutes ago

Well, here. I knew I would never write such nonsense.

And in general, why nonsense? Think about it. What is the theoretical probability of slipping in the bathroom, falling, and breaking your head? It's very small, so that it doesn't happen every day, but it's quite enough for a person to slip, fall, break their head, and die at least once in eighteen years. However, many people live for many decades and don't die. Why? How is this possible? The bathroom is slippery. If you step into it wrong, you can slip. Is humanity so good at controlling its legs that no one can step into the bathroom wrong in fifty years? I think the right world should look something like this: people are born, they learn, they live, and then they die in the bathroom. This is instead of our "from old age." And only Tibetan monks know the secret of survival in this cruel world, where life expectancy depends on the quality of the bathroom and the dexterity of the legs.