Elite Dev Team after every patch and the playerbase response:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmu5sRIizdw
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pmu5sRIizdw
General / Off-Topic Elite Dangerous has turned into a Monty Python sketch
- Thread starter Yari
- Start date
I hear ya brah, MP mostly doesn't make me laugh
I'm sorry, but I don't understand your banter. Though some hairy blighter did feather back on his Sammy the other night...
I feel sorry for those born without humor ... ( and I am German )
Moved to off topic.
Before the Batley Townswomen's Guild turn up to do a re-enactment of The Battle for Slough.
Deja-vu....
Before the Batley Townswomen's Guild turn up to do a re-enactment of The Battle for Slough.
Deja-vu....
Well I saw your adverts in the paper, I've pledged to powers several times, you see, and I decided that this was for me.
Ah good.
I mean what's the point of being treated like a sheep, I mean, I'm fed up with deep space and being treated like a sheep, what's the point of being carted around in sidewinders, surrounded by sweaty mindless oafs from Zaonce and Boventry 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,' stopping at Lavian biodegas, selling fish and Watney's Red Barrel and calamares and two veg, and sitting in cotton sun frocks squirting Timothy White's suncream all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh, cos they 'overdid it on the first day'!
Yes. Absolutely, yes, I quite agree...
And being herded into endless Orbitals and Betelgeuses and Black Holes, with their international luxury modern roomettes and their Watney's Red Barrel and their swimming pools full of fat Sol businessmen pretending they're acrobats and forming pyramids and frightening the children and barging in to the queues, And if you're not at your table spot on seven, you miss your bowl of Diso's Cream of Mushroom soup, the first item on the menu of International Cuisine and every Thursday night there's a bloody cabaret in the bar featuring some tiny emaciated NPC with nine-inch hips and some big fat bloated tart with her hair brylcreemed down presenting Flamenco for Foreigners.
Yes, yes, er ...
And then some adenoidal typists from Achenar with diarrhoea and flabby white legs and hair-bandy-legged waiters called Manuel and then, once a week there's an excursion to the local Romulan ruins, where you can buy cherryade and melted ice cream and bleedin' Watney's Red Barre, and one night they take you to a local restaurant with local colour and colouring, and they show you there, and you sit next to a party of people from Lave who keeps singing 'Broke my immersion, broke my immersion' and complaining about the servers - 'Oh! It's so buggy isn't it?' and then you get cornered by some drunken trade merchant from Riedquat with an Instamatic and Dr Scholl sandals and last Tuesday's 'Galnet'. He drones on and on and on about how Michael Brookes should be running this country and how many languages David Braben can speak, then throws up all over the Cuba Libres.
Ah good.
I mean what's the point of being treated like a sheep, I mean, I'm fed up with deep space and being treated like a sheep, what's the point of being carted around in sidewinders, surrounded by sweaty mindless oafs from Zaonce and Boventry 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,' stopping at Lavian biodegas, selling fish and Watney's Red Barrel and calamares and two veg, and sitting in cotton sun frocks squirting Timothy White's suncream all over their puffy raw swollen purulent flesh, cos they 'overdid it on the first day'!
Yes. Absolutely, yes, I quite agree...
And being herded into endless Orbitals and Betelgeuses and Black Holes, with their international luxury modern roomettes and their Watney's Red Barrel and their swimming pools full of fat Sol businessmen pretending they're acrobats and forming pyramids and frightening the children and barging in to the queues, And if you're not at your table spot on seven, you miss your bowl of Diso's Cream of Mushroom soup, the first item on the menu of International Cuisine and every Thursday night there's a bloody cabaret in the bar featuring some tiny emaciated NPC with nine-inch hips and some big fat bloated tart with her hair brylcreemed down presenting Flamenco for Foreigners.
Yes, yes, er ...
And then some adenoidal typists from Achenar with diarrhoea and flabby white legs and hair-bandy-legged waiters called Manuel and then, once a week there's an excursion to the local Romulan ruins, where you can buy cherryade and melted ice cream and bleedin' Watney's Red Barre, and one night they take you to a local restaurant with local colour and colouring, and they show you there, and you sit next to a party of people from Lave who keeps singing 'Broke my immersion, broke my immersion' and complaining about the servers - 'Oh! It's so buggy isn't it?' and then you get cornered by some drunken trade merchant from Riedquat with an Instamatic and Dr Scholl sandals and last Tuesday's 'Galnet'. He drones on and on and on about how Michael Brookes should be running this country and how many languages David Braben can speak, then throws up all over the Cuba Libres.
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New commodity in 1.4: Shrubbery.
I do hope you guys are not arguing now...last week you were talking about biscuits. UA withdrawal symptoms?
Slough you say? Kate Russell will be pleased.
They have spent too much time on cool graphics which make the game increasingly unplayable on all but the most modern computers and no enough on creating challanging game play.
ED is boring.
