Something to actually do with wargaming

Here are some shite pictures of models that I painted:

Plague-cunts

Infinity Cunts

Cunts playing the loot scenario from Necromunda on my board.

As above

As above

Right. Now I can get on with being needlessly cynical. Cheers.

SCULLLZZZZZZ

Here's another exclusive excerpt from the Beige Library's next e-book, 'Really angry Space soldiers that are definitely not marines(tm)', by new writer, Laura Goldenring.

Even through the green photo-receptive lenses of his ancient helmet, the world around him was rendered into little more than a static-ridden wash of white noise and swirling energy. The city around him was a mess of rubble and broken girders. Everywhere was the detritus of war, but that was the church of his God, the God of battles; the God of Blood and Skulls to which his infeasibly long existence was now irretrievably linked. He was a Khornate Chaos Space Marine(tm) and that meant he was dead angry at everything. All the time.
"Grrr.... I AM DEAD ANGRY!" growled Kahrn, angrily.
"BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" roared Sarnak, his follower.
"SKULLS FOR THE SKULL THRONE!" bellowed Rendarr, another one of his followers. They were also Khornate Chaos Space Marines(tm) and so were also really angry all the time.
"GIVE VOICE TO YOUR RAGE BROTHER!" bellowed Sarnak; his helmeted head twitching in the throes of his lunatic passions. Kahrn growled, because he was really, really angry then told them why he was angry.
"GRRRRNNNNAARRRRRRNNNGGGGG.... I WAS ONTHE BUS THE OTHER DAY AND THIS GUY IN FRONT OF ME WAS TALKING RATHER LOUDLY ON HIS PHONE! GRRAARRRRR.....!" he rumbled.
"DID YOU CLAIM HIS SKULL?!" asked Sarnak, eagerly.
"FOR THE SKULL THRONE?" added Rendarr, unhelpfully.
"GRARRRRNNNNNN....NNNNO." said Kahrn, shaking his head, furiously. "GRRRNNNNN... I JUST TUTTED A BIT - so he could hear it mind - AND SIGHED QUITE LOUDLY. AT ONE POINT I ALSO LOOKED ROUND AND SHARED A DEPRECATING SHAKE OF THE HEAD WITH AN OLD LADY PASSENGER SEATED NEARBY. GRRRRRRAAAARRRRRRNNNNGGGGG.... (for the blood god)."
"FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" echoed his followers exultantly.
"GGRRRRRRRYES! PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE, BUT ULTIMATELY INEFFECTIVE ACTION FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!!" howled Kahrn, waving his pitted Chainaxe Gorechild in a murderous arc before him.
"GGGNNNNNNRRRRGGG..... THEN THE OTHER DAY I WAS ON THE PHONE TO MY BANK AND THEY PUT ME ON HOLD FOR OVER 10 MINUTES WHILE CARRYING OUT A RELATIVELY SIMPLE PROCEDURE. GRRRRRNNNNNGGNNNNNN...."
"BLASPHEMY!" bayed his followers, angrily. "DOES THE TELEPHONE CALL-CENTRE OPERATIVE'S HEAD NOW ADORN THE SKULL THRONE?" snarled Rendarr, hopefully.
"GRRRNNNNMMGGGGGG.....NO HE WAS IN BELFAST AND THAT IS DEAD FAR AWAY. MY BANK HAS A ROBUST AND EFFECTIVE COMPLAINTS PROCEDURE WHICH I HAVE NOW INITIATED IN ORDER TO BE MONETARILY RECOMPENSED. GNNNRRRRGGGGG..... ALSO I HAVE MY MORTGAGE WITH THEM AND IT WOULD BE ONEROUS TO TRANSFER MY ACCOUNT TO ANOTHER INSTITUTION GNARRRRRRRGGGGGGNNNNNZZZZZ...." spat Kahrn, his voice little more than a rage-strangled cry lost amid the distortion of his helmet's vox-grille.
"ERM... FOR THE BLOOD GOD?" shouted Rendarr.
"YES, THANKS FOR THAT GRRRNNNNN... COMPLIANCE WITH LONG-WINDED AND ULTIMATELY UNSATISFYING BANKING COMPLAINTS PROCEDURES FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
"FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" shrieked the warriors, lost in the rapturous fervour of their leader's homicidal example.
"WHAT SHALL WE DO NOW?" Spat Sarnak.
"SHALL I RELATE THE ANECDOTE ABOUT MY RAGE UPON OPENING MY IKEA FLATPACK MAGAZINE RACK AND FINDING SOME BITS MISSING?"
"GRRRNNNN...NNNO BROTHER. THAT ONE MAKES YOU SOUND LIKE A CUNT. LET US GO TO THE SHOPS!" hissed Kahrn "AND READ ALL THE MAGAZINES WITH NO INTENTION OF MAKING A PURCHASE. FOR THE BLOOD GOD!"
"FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" screamed his followers; waving their chain-axes and racing from the scene of devastation.

The very ground beneath them trembled in the wake of their passing. They were underway once more upon their mission of murder-make. Skulls for the Skull Throne. Blood for the Blood God.