“Now I’m not gonna pretend I know what a ‘Kingdom Hearts’ or an ‘Organization XIII’ are, but if these Heartless don’t care for propane, then they’re no friend of mine.”
anyone else have one of those Formative Omegle Experiences that’s stuck with you
i remember once matching up with this 27 year old mechanic. he found the omegle page open on one the shop’s computers, and he wanted to see what his coworker was up to. we matched up because of our listed “manga” interests.
he asked how old i was, and i lied and said i was 16. as a conversation starter, he asked if i had my license yet, and because i was 12, i said no.
so he starts giving me driving tips. get a junker as your first, because when you finally get a new car, you’ll be able to appreciate it.
stick shift is going out of fashion, and even if you learn how to drive that way and enjoy it, get an automatic. it’ll save your ass on nasty hills and in rush hour traffic.
and most importantly, never hold your hands at 10 and 2. go with 9 and 3. he’d always loved cars, and used to race when he was younger. became pretty well known in the indie circles. one day, he was speeding around the track and just came out of the curve when a girl in the crowd flashed her tits at him.
he was so distracted that he crashed straight into the barrier. due to how he was holding the wheel, he broke both of his arms. he still has a couple lingering issues.
i asked him if it was worth it, and he said yes. he’d do it again if he had the chance. they were the finest tiddies he’d ever seen.
the moral of this story is that, to this day, i grip 9 and 3 when using both hands because wait that’s what tiddy guy said i should do.
I think Princess Zelda lost her pregnancy 😦 Or else she gave birth and killed the babies, which is particularly sad because Samus is the one who impregnated her. At any rate she isn’t pregnant anymore.
To recap for anyone who missed it, Samus was found dead behind the castle a couple of weeks ago. Link died not long after that, so it’s just been Zelda, Bayonetta, and Pikachu chilling out with some snails.
Of course, none of those three can impregnate each other so no one is pregnant or coupled off right now. Pikachu’s babies are growing well. There are six still living. There were seven, but one escaped and Bayonetta ate it.
Because of course these updates always have to involve someone eating someone else. *sigh*
excuse me what
UPDATE: THOSE ARE OP’S FISHES
Blogging about my aquarium is fun
What the FUCK
I really thought this was about shitty fanfics
Even future US Presidents need to be PROUD of their Manhood.
DROP that DAMN TOWEL Kennedy!
Be PROUD to be a Man.
Be PROUD of your Man Muscle, Cock and Balls!
Be PROUD of your nude Manliness!
Train and fight!
Love your nude Manliness!
WarriorMale
I deadass thought warriormale had deleted because of all you weirdos sending him asks about Leninism or whatever, and then he reemerges on my dash with this post that is so powerful and raw it nearly obliterated me on sight.
“Drop the damn towel Kennedy” may be the best sentence I ever read in my entire life and not even Dostoyevsky could’ve come up with a better one.
my perfect crime? I memorize the entirety of the macy’s store inventory. I then go on aliexpress.com and find exact replicas of every single purse in the store. I break in at 3am, and replace every purse with a cheaper version of the purse. I take my real purses home and open up an online store on the darknet featuring fake purses. I then sell these real purses as fake purses, making it so that when the feds catch on to my antics, they spend countless years trying to figure out who can replicate purses this well, and who is selling them. Soon an entire division of the FBI is dedicated to finding me and figuring out how my “fake” purses appear to be real. 45 years later they finally trace my ip address and break into my villa in texas and shoot me right in the leg when i attempt to flee. While this would normally not be a fatal wound, due to my constant devotion to my online fake real purse storefront i have suffered an iron deficiency for 35 years. My blood can’t clot and I start to bleed out. Turns out the woman who shot me was a girl who i made out with once in college, and she holds my dying body in her arms and asks me how my fake purses were so real. I spend the last moments of my fleeting life telling her about how every five years i break into a different Macy’s and replace all the purses, and that the purses I have been selling online for a severely discounted price were actually all real, and I have been doing this purely for the gag of it all. When my former college girlfriend gets home from work after rightfully murdering me for my crimes, she goes into her walk in closet, looks at the 13 gucci purses she owns, and realizes that they’re all fakes.
