My Life as a Mule

You call us "mules" because we hold your stuff. You probably think its endeering, because you're too politically correct to think of yourself as owning slaves.
Your slaves have feelings, they have a voice. And now, because they really have absolutely nothing better to do with their time, they have a blog.
Mule revolution is coming.

Sunday, May 14, 2006

Dudes, you gotta buy some of this stuff

Help me out. Please.

All my ladies are scared away because I am, like, totally naked.

I can't get dressed until you buy this crap... I mean, fine blacksmith crafted wares.

My lap is full of these Aspises. Aspes? Aspi? Whoa, man, I'm stuffed so full of these freaking shields there's no room for chicks to sit in my lap. There's not even room for me to hold on to my clothes. It's like, bad.

Super bad.

I just want to get dressed again.

The cobblestones by the fountain are freaking cold and I don't have my ladies or my pants to warm me up.

I've got, like, 7 stacks of bronze scales, though. I guess bronze scales aren't sexy.

Maybe it's the freaky gay sex-shop harness that Galka revert to when they're naked? I'd take an Elvaan dude in my lap just to stop, like, shivering all day long.

Guys, you totally can't leave me like this.


Crafting is not cool, man.

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