Brother, I require your oats. May I consume them?
Sorry brother, but I must consume these oats.
I have very few oats brother, I myself must procure more
I understand brother, but we must share these oats.
Don't insult me brother, rather pass me the oaths.
This was actually more fun that 10 YLYL threads combined. Thanks OP.
You're welcome brother, now could you pass me the oats?
Join us, join The order of the dark oats sovereignty brother and we will make sure you will never have to worry about oats again.
However brother....there is a price to pay.
Brother, my end is nearing I need the oats to stay with you!
That sounds amazing brother, I require these oats to function
Thank you for the oats brother, but I need more, my stomach aches for oats.
Brother, you must endure, I too require these oats.
Don't let this thread die, this is the best thing I've seen today
Cap me nigger
I am trying brother, but i am weak now you must pull me out of the light when it comes.
Good day brothers, me and my son travelled a long way and we had the missfortune of being robbed of our most priced possesion.
Our oats my brothers.... all our oats are gone, we are starving, would you find it in your hearths to spare some of your oats with us?
Brother, let me tell you something. Many a day I have lumbered here by this fence and looked at this world. These fences which border this small plot of mud seem to be the edges of the Earth. But I have gazed many beyond the fence. I have watched the hills of green and the tall, slim, terrifying figures who lurk and haunt the strange barn on the far side of the hill, who appear as spectres as the sun rises at the break of day and refill the Oats, and float away without a word. Often I wonder why we are not like them, why we cannot give ourselves the oats, why we are limited and chained down by the girth of our bodies and the uselessness of our hooves. And indeed for many years this sad truth, that forever we would be trapped in this shallow frame, alone, and without purpose or direction, banished forever to wallow in our own filth, this depressed me. But yesterday I realized something. Who are we to be ungrateful for existence in the first place? Who are we to say that this life is not good enough? Instead of oblivion we have the warmth of the sun and the coolness of soil. We have fair conversations and a good night's sleep. Who am I to say that these simple comforts are no better than death? Should we not smile like the sun and bask in our happiness as the sunlight warms the soil without question or thank. So brother, let us share oats and smile and frolick as much as our girth might let us. Let us see this pen not as a prison or a hell but as a palace in which we might enjoy the best our existence has to offer. Give me some oats brother, and let us dine together. I love you.
Yes brother, truly ours is the life of passion, contentment and bless, yet there are never enough oats, so brother I ask of you, please pass me the oats.
FUCK OFF MY OATS YOU DIRTY NIGGERJEWS
Sorry brother, but we have no oats to spare, we must travel onwards to acquire more oats to satisfy out hunger.
BROTHER DON'T MAKE ME TAKE THOSE OATS FROM YOU VIOLENTLY
ART THOU SHALL REGRET THE DAY THOU SPEAK THY NAME IN VAIN
You fucking what.
I love when threads that would be amazing get ruined by 22 different people arguing about screen caps
This is why I still visit this fucking mess of a Board. Thank you.
My children do not fight but share and prosper! There is more to this than meets the eye.
YOU INSOLENT FOOLS
*biggie cheese walks into thread* hi im the cheese nigga
Why have you become a slave to the oats brother? The steel cut oats given to us by our tall slender caretakers. Do you not aspire for more be not like the dog who is slave to his master be not like the fowl who is slave to the seasons be not like the horse who is slave to glory be not like the cow who is slave to grass. Must we succumb to the limits of our own girth? Imagine the sweet taste of an apple or the cool breeze felt uppon pastures not yet explored. Do not be trapped and become a victim of circumstance arise brother. Eat less and give more so that someday we can overcome the steel confines of our pen. Do not be so docile as to be comfortable with the sedated life we live l. Roam free like the boat who is slave to no one.
I AM GOING TO FUCKING PREEE
My oats are of the highest caliber, my brothers. Take of my oats, they belong to us all.
Please brother share these oats with me.
Brother, this... Why thank you. You have any more of these oats?
of course, but first do you have a moment to talk about our savior...?
Brother listen to me for I have a wise annealect to give you. You see the fowl is slave to the season's leaving fertile lands for others. The dog is slave to his master and the horse is slave to glory of hard work the cow is slave to grass the cockrol is slave to feed and us pigs brother we are slave to the oats. Oats and mud. Our long slender caretakers have a saying that blood is cilthicker than water. Is oats thicker than mud? Our gluttonous appetite for oats has led us to become lethargic beasts of leasure but why think of it as a cure think if it as a blessing. May days have I lumbered over to these wooden fences and gazed at the green windy pastures and our bipedal captures who hold our oats from us but why think of it as a cure we have the sum to bask in and food given be not resentful. Enjoy our captures hospitality and enjoy our oats brother
You lie to yourself babilonius for many months oats could not be found here. Our caretakers care little for our well being. We sit within the confines of this plump body and watch as the dog barks, the bird flies, and the cow eats grass. Our life is nothing without oats. Oats are all we have. And when we don't have oats. We are nothing but meat for the slaughter house. Do you understand your foolishness now younger brother? Father died wishing for oats. Oats he never received. And mother is ill. What if we can't obtain oats for her? What then brother? Should we sit by idly and watch her die? No brother. But we can't help her now. It's to late for that. For now we wait for oats...
Big ol' Gregor is back in town.
Oats of all shape and sizes, of all colour and form.
Organic oats, mutated oats, oats laced with PCP, just ask and Gregor will be at your service, for a fair price.
So gather round´ brothers and sisters for Gregor wont stay in town so long.
The creatures outside looked from pig to oats, and from oats to pig, and from pig to oats again; but already it was impossible to say which was which.”
Make a double shot of oats and a round for my little friend here
ITT: new fags impressed by stupid shit seen a hundred times already made by a proxy samefag
Look at you gregor. You sit atop a throne of lies. We know you come from the mountains of deceit. When the children see you they squeal with joy. They are to young to understand. To young to understand that your oats are poor and rotted. Yet you still sell them. Why is that Gregor? Is it because you wish to grant us all an early death? Or is it because you know you can make a quick shilling off of our bad situation? Perhaps I will never know...
Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken to my joyful tidings
Of the golden future oats.
Soon or late the day is coming,
Tyrant Man shall be o'erthrown,
And the fruitful fields of England
Shall be trod by beasts alone.
Rings shall vanish from our noses,
And the harness from our back,
Bit and spur shall rust forever,
Cruel whips shall no more crack.
Riches more than mind can picture,
oats and oats, oats so fay,
oats, oats, and oaty-oats,
Shall be ours upon that day.
Bright will shine the fields of England,
Purer shall its oats be,
Sweeter yet shall blow its breezes
On the day that sets us free.
For that day we all must labour,
Though we die before it break;
Cows and horses, geese and turkeys,
All must toils for oats sake.
Beasts of England, beasts of Ireland,
Beasts of every land and clime,
Hearken well and spread my tidings
Of the golden future oats.
brothers I found a way the humans will deliover unto us precious oats
Morn be as rotten as the oats they draw. Twas this morn I still had hope. Reality does not lie.
Bretheren it is forbidden to feast on oats on fridays. Shame be apon thee.
Only the 4th day of 2017 but this shit is funniest shit I've seen all year.
Before him he saw two trough, both equally full; but he did see two; and that terrified him--he who had never in his life known anything but one empty trough. And, bitter anguish, these two trough were full of oats.
My brothers of a different species, I understand that this request might seem strange, but one couldn't help but notice your contentment while eating those oats. Might I sit down with you gentle-folk and enjoy a few of those? I would be most grateful.
I have done unthinkable things to my brother for your filthy oats brother, just pay me up and dont show up at my fence again.
And payment art thou shall receive..
Do you want this? Do you truly desire this? If it is war you seek, my bovine acquaintance, then it is war you shall find. I require only a place to sit and some oats to partake of, yet you berate me over petty differences; am I not of the four-legged variety? Am I not of flesh, blood and bone? Do I not seek contentment and warmth like you? Do I not dream of green grass, yellow sun and blue sky? Let us cast aside that which would lead to war, and agree on a hot meal of oats, but for one moment. The alternative would spell doom and despair for all of our kind, and yours.
You speak the truth goat...
You may be a horned abomination but you are still of my flesh and blood, we might not be the same in apperance but the bonds of family will tie us forever....brother.
I am growing into and old fool who believes the oats are thicker than blood, and i am truly sorry.
We dont have much, but you can feast with me and my fellow swines today.
Sleep, brother of ours. We will keep watch over the oats, as papa did for us when we were but mere piglets.
My fellow are you sure, this...truce could in time prove...catastrophic. Our numbers are strong though our bellies scream for oats.
Brothers, my message may never reach you but I must try...I have been locked away from all the oats and forced into this god forsaken room, I fear the end is near....help me my brothers!
Wait a second... Oats... Ghosts... GOATS! DO NOT LET HIM EAT YOUR OATS!>>717703625
Anyone who screencapped this, can you send me the pic pl0x?
Brothers, my search has ended. Truly, these are wonderful times! My biped master insists on observing me as I feast, yet in being observed I feel a contentment I have never before experienced. The floor is hard, however. My tender feet feel most uncomfortable as I graze. My master pats me, however, and insists in his incomprehensible language that "all is good. Soon, there will be softness and warmth."
You are growing old and senile Barthomer, the horned kind is not and will never be part of the noble swine clan.
If you wont throw the horner out of our lands you will pay much more than a few oats.
And to think that this all happened after I took my first bite out of this sausage and egg taco...
We came in peace. We desired a truce and but a few mere oats to graze on. Can you not see the irrational selfservience that fuels your desire to see us gone from your trough? Can you not see the stubbornness and intolerance that pervades your very colony? We are hungry. Sustenance is all we required. In exchange we could have brought you so very much; the tools, knowledge and technique you swine needed to produce bounty upon bounty of your precious oats. However, you refused.
Today, pig, is your last.
I fear the worse for our health brothers. Mothers health... is declining rapidly. I fear that the only solution will be to make a pact with the horned beasts. They have plenty of oats they aren't using. Why should they feast while we lie in famine? For pride? It's not about pride anymore. It's about staying alive.
I elder Bartolo call henceforth a truth.
Me and my brothers need none of your withcraft here devil, oats will grow when the gods will bless us and they will bless us when the earth will be spoiled with the blood of your kind.
Many of your kind have come here before you but not so few left, i suggest you stay away from this lands and never come back or you will share their fate.
Okay, okay, I'm going...
don't give in brother for that beast is a trickster at heart we cannot fully trust that the horned beast is on our side
Ahh yess finally come to me my dear wife.
Nevermind thy oats, for i require the grasses for sustinents
It’s okay to cry. Let it out brother, there’s oats for everybody, pig and soul. Even though war drums beat the march of swine, fear not. For the swine have no equal. Abyssal bellies in hoof they stride.
Sorry Jebediah, I can't let that happen
the master said this is how I get my oats now brother
If you do not receive your requested oats, would you perish brother?
the sensation would best be described as unpleasant and i do not recommend it brother