He looks surprised, like “hell no, I left my owen on”
Collectors Item fetching top dollar currently as it’s the vogue thing now to have one of them in your foyer !
Even got a 155 round sprouting out of him.
Polish friends would talk about a soldier they found mummified under a tree. It looked as if he sat for a rest and never got back up
Deserved
Ukraine deployed Medusa on its fronts
What could cause this? Nothing is burned. Bacteria or mold?
Nah man, that’s how orcs are supposed to look. He just sleeping.
Pompey style!
I finally see what the “Z” is for! ZOMBIES!
Imagine being a kid and stumbling upon this once the war is over. It’ll haunt you for a long time.
Here we have another proud cannon fodder at his natural habitat.
That’s a Russian I can warm up to…..er, um, by.
Yo Angelo
The soil enrichment will give meaning to an otherwise wasted life. Oh well…
Even Gandalf is fighting for Ukraine
I thought it would be salt. He turned around and saw Russia…
Z is cringier than musk and his X
Forever MIA
The guy was so busy dodging drones and shells he completely forgot about Medusa.
Zed is so flaky Another Zed will come along and and try to smoke its head in a joint.
That shell is a booby trap.
Now I can’t get the ELO song out of my head, not that one but…
Turn to stone
Should’ve stayed in russia.
He’s wearing cold gear, dude might have been here for a minute
That’s a solid look
Blyat Mummy.
Think he dead.
Think he is dead
I’m not sure that he is dead. Maybe sleeping without having washed for a few days. So give him a stick and if he starts hitting she shell, he is still alife!
Put the stick to the left …, uhm, to the right …, uhm, to his feet, umh, … no, he’s dead.
Damn his face looks like a balaclava.
Putins new flowering industry: Z patch sewing factories
as much as I have hated them, I can’t watch anymore, I thought I got dessesitized, but I feel lucid, like I just woke up, I don’t like seeing these things, I could never derieve any joy from it, I desperately wanted to know why I felt so little before. But think I finally hit it now, and honestly I’m relieved that I do. My indiffirence to their deaths remain still, some had choices, others didn’t, many don’t know better inspite of what they know for what they believe. And this war has made victims of us, even those not holding any rifles or drone controls. victims of rage, I’m sorry, the celebration of death in these threads I can never partake, death is sacred to me. Ukraine has to win on their own terms, and that won’t be soon enough.
All of this is a disaster. All those men. They could live in peace if there wasn’t an idiot with total ego.
Anyway
Slava Ukraine!
Electric Light Orchestra’s *Turn To Stone*…
*I turn to stone when you are gone*
*I turn to stone*
*I turn to stone, when you comin’ home*
*I can’t go on*
That Z patch… This feels like a photo that should be in any anti-war, anti-radicalism advertisement
Think I saw him in “The mummy”
When you yabba-dabba do and she yabba-dabba don’t stop slurpin’ on your brontosaurus
What happened to Zed?
Zeds dead baby….. Zeds dead
After a while the camouflage make up is washed off and orcs true skin colors come through…
Going to need some moisturizer
Orcs are just slaves with their medieval mentality. Always will be
Hey, no loitering.
This imagine should be pumped into Russia constantly. With the title “your fate awaits you.”
Z is for Zippo…..
Allow me to post a short script from The Hobbit i found rather fitting:
It was just then that Gandalf came back. But no one saw him. The trolls had just decided to roast the dwarves now and eat them later—that was Bert’s idea, and after a lot of argument they had all agreed to it.
“No good roasting ’em now, it’d take all night,” said a voice. Bert thought it was William’s.
“Don’t start the argument all over again, Bill,” he said, “or it will take all night.”
“Who’s a-arguing?” said William, who thought it was Bert that had spoken.
“You are,” said Bert.
“You’re a liar,” said William; and so the argument began all over again. In the end they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So they got a great black pot, and they took out their knives.
“No good boiling ’em! We ain’t got no water, and it’s a long way to the well and all,” said a voice. Bert and William thought it was Tom’s.
“Shut up!” said they, “or we’ll never have done. And yer can fetch the water yerself, if yer say any more.”
“Shut up yerself!” said Tom, who thought it was William’s voice. “Who’s arguing but you, I’d like to know.”
“You’re a booby,” said William.
“Booby yerself!” said Tom.
And so the argument began all over again, and went on hotter than ever, until at last they decided to sit on the sacks one by one and squash them, and boil them next time.
“Who shall we sit on first?” said the voice.
“Better sit on the last fellow first,” said Bert, whose eye had been damaged by Thorin. He thought Tom was talking.
“Don’t talk to yerself!” said Tom. “But if you wants to sit on the last one, sit on him. Which is he?”
“The one with the yellow stockings,” said Bert.
“Nonsense, the one with the grey stockings,” said a voice like William’s.
“I made sure it was yellow,” said Bert
“Yellow it was,” said William.
“Then what did yer say it was grey for?” said Bert.
“I never did. Tom said it.”
“That I never did!” said Tom. “It was you.”
“Two to one, so shut yer mouth!” said Bert.
“Who are you a-talkin’ to?” said William.
“Now stop it!” said Tom and Bert together. “The night’s gettin’ on, and dawn comes early. Let’s get on with it!”
“Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!” said a voice that sounded like William’s. But it wasn’t. For just at that moment, the light came over the hill, and there was a mighty twitter in the branches. William never spoke, for he stood turned to stone as he stooped; and Bert and Tom were stuck like rocks as they looked at him. And there they stand to this day, all alone, unless the birds perch on them; for trolls, as you probably know, must be underground before dawn, or they go back to the stuff of the mountains they are made of, and never move again. That is what had happened to Bert and Tom and William.
49 comments
thats some wild shit.
He looks surprised, like “hell no, I left my owen on”
Collectors Item fetching top dollar currently as it’s the vogue thing now to have one of them in your foyer !
Even got a 155 round sprouting out of him.
Polish friends would talk about a soldier they found mummified under a tree. It looked as if he sat for a rest and never got back up
Deserved
Ukraine deployed Medusa on its fronts
What could cause this? Nothing is burned. Bacteria or mold?
Nah man, that’s how orcs are supposed to look. He just sleeping.
Pompey style!
I finally see what the “Z” is for! ZOMBIES!
Imagine being a kid and stumbling upon this once the war is over. It’ll haunt you for a long time.
Here we have another proud cannon fodder at his natural habitat.
That’s a Russian I can warm up to…..er, um, by.
Yo Angelo
The soil enrichment will give meaning to an otherwise wasted life. Oh well…
Even Gandalf is fighting for Ukraine
I thought it would be salt. He turned around and saw Russia…
Z is cringier than musk and his X
Forever MIA
The guy was so busy dodging drones and shells he completely forgot about Medusa.
Zed is so flaky Another Zed will come along and and try to smoke its head in a joint.
That shell is a booby trap.
Now I can’t get the ELO song out of my head, not that one but…
Turn to stone
Should’ve stayed in russia.
He’s wearing cold gear, dude might have been here for a minute
That’s a solid look
Blyat Mummy.
Think he dead.
Think he is dead
I’m not sure that he is dead. Maybe sleeping without having washed for a few days. So give him a stick and if he starts hitting she shell, he is still alife!
Put the stick to the left …, uhm, to the right …, uhm, to his feet, umh, … no, he’s dead.
Damn his face looks like a balaclava.
Putins new flowering industry: Z patch sewing factories
as much as I have hated them, I can’t watch anymore, I thought I got dessesitized, but I feel lucid, like I just woke up, I don’t like seeing these things, I could never derieve any joy from it, I desperately wanted to know why I felt so little before. But think I finally hit it now, and honestly I’m relieved that I do. My indiffirence to their deaths remain still, some had choices, others didn’t, many don’t know better inspite of what they know for what they believe. And this war has made victims of us, even those not holding any rifles or drone controls. victims of rage, I’m sorry, the celebration of death in these threads I can never partake, death is sacred to me. Ukraine has to win on their own terms, and that won’t be soon enough.
All of this is a disaster. All those men. They could live in peace if there wasn’t an idiot with total ego.
Anyway
Slava Ukraine!
Electric Light Orchestra’s *Turn To Stone*…
*I turn to stone when you are gone*
*I turn to stone*
*I turn to stone, when you comin’ home*
*I can’t go on*
That Z patch… This feels like a photo that should be in any anti-war, anti-radicalism advertisement
Think I saw him in “The mummy”
When you yabba-dabba do and she yabba-dabba don’t stop slurpin’ on your brontosaurus
What happened to Zed?
Zeds dead baby….. Zeds dead
After a while the camouflage make up is washed off and orcs true skin colors come through…
Going to need some moisturizer
Orcs are just slaves with their medieval mentality. Always will be
Hey, no loitering.
This imagine should be pumped into Russia constantly. With the title “your fate awaits you.”
Z is for Zippo…..
Allow me to post a short script from The Hobbit i found rather fitting:
It was just then that Gandalf came back. But no one saw him. The trolls had just decided to roast the dwarves now and eat them later—that was Bert’s idea, and after a lot of argument they had all agreed to it.
“No good roasting ’em now, it’d take all night,” said a voice. Bert thought it was William’s.
“Don’t start the argument all over again, Bill,” he said, “or it will take all night.”
“Who’s a-arguing?” said William, who thought it was Bert that had spoken.
“You are,” said Bert.
“You’re a liar,” said William; and so the argument began all over again. In the end they decided to mince them fine and boil them. So they got a great black pot, and they took out their knives.
“No good boiling ’em! We ain’t got no water, and it’s a long way to the well and all,” said a voice. Bert and William thought it was Tom’s.
“Shut up!” said they, “or we’ll never have done. And yer can fetch the water yerself, if yer say any more.”
“Shut up yerself!” said Tom, who thought it was William’s voice. “Who’s arguing but you, I’d like to know.”
“You’re a booby,” said William.
“Booby yerself!” said Tom.
And so the argument began all over again, and went on hotter than ever, until at last they decided to sit on the sacks one by one and squash them, and boil them next time.
“Who shall we sit on first?” said the voice.
“Better sit on the last fellow first,” said Bert, whose eye had been damaged by Thorin. He thought Tom was talking.
“Don’t talk to yerself!” said Tom. “But if you wants to sit on the last one, sit on him. Which is he?”
“The one with the yellow stockings,” said Bert.
“Nonsense, the one with the grey stockings,” said a voice like William’s.
“I made sure it was yellow,” said Bert
“Yellow it was,” said William.
“Then what did yer say it was grey for?” said Bert.
“I never did. Tom said it.”
“That I never did!” said Tom. “It was you.”
“Two to one, so shut yer mouth!” said Bert.
“Who are you a-talkin’ to?” said William.
“Now stop it!” said Tom and Bert together. “The night’s gettin’ on, and dawn comes early. Let’s get on with it!”
“Dawn take you all, and be stone to you!” said a voice that sounded like William’s. But it wasn’t. For just at that moment, the light came over the hill, and there was a mighty twitter in the branches. William never spoke, for he stood turned to stone as he stooped; and Bert and Tom were stuck like rocks as they looked at him. And there they stand to this day, all alone, unless the birds perch on them; for trolls, as you probably know, must be underground before dawn, or they go back to the stuff of the mountains they are made of, and never move again. That is what had happened to Bert and Tom and William.
In a million years, he’ll still look petrified.
Jesus, that’s a grim sight…
This was no boating accident