twitchquotes:
I hate when people quote songs in their spam... it reminds me of Somebody I Used to Know
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Any advice, Dad?
twitchquotes:
Kʀɪᴘᴘ, ᴛʜɪs ɪs Tʏʀᴏɴᴇ, ᴜʀ sᴏɴ. Mʏ ᴍᴏᴍ, Lᴀǫᴜɪsʜᴀ, ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ. I ᴊᴜsᴛ ɢᴏᴛ ᴋɪᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏғ Cᴀɴᴀᴅɪᴀɴ ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛᴀʀʏ sᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ғᴏʀ sᴀʏɪɴɢ "F*ᴄᴋ" ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴜ. Oʀ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ғᴏʀ ʏᴇʟʟɪɴɢ "RIP" ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴘᴜɴᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴋɪᴅ...ᴀɴʏ ᴀᴅᴠɪᴄᴇ, Dᴀᴅ?
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Kripp
Grammar rules for -ussy
-ussy as a fuffix is not gender-specific. on top of that, bussy is already a form of -ussy, for the word boy. Boyussy does not work, due to y acting more like a vowel in context of the word as a whole.
using bussy in place of -ussy is never applicable. To use bussy means you are using Bussy as a descriptor, not as a noun (ex: dolphin bussy instead of dolphussy.) This is true for all words, even when spelling and/or pronunciation is not immediately obvious. (Ex: Ohio, while one thing might need to use Ohiobussy or Ohbussy, is spelled Ohussy, pronounced Oh-hussy. Some could argue for Ohiussy, pronounced Ohi-ussy, but that results in -ussy still being seperate from the word, not integrated.)
I hope this clarification helps!
Kripps stream makes you want to drink hard
twitchquotes:
u wot m8? i swer u are one cheeky cunt mate, say it to my face and not online and we'll see what happens. i swer 2 christ I'll hook you in the gabba. you better shut your mouth or im calling me homeboys rite now preparin for a proper rumble. tha rumble thatll make your nan sore jus hearin bout it. yer in proper mess ya nob head.
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Kripp
IM NOT A WEABOO
IM NOT A FUCKING WEABOO YOU FUCKING HATERS I JUST FUCKING LIKE ANIME OK???!!!! STOP THIS FUCKING SPAM IM NOT PRETENDING TO BE BORN IN JAPAN I JUST FEEL LIKE JAPAN IS MY HOME BECAUSE AMERICA SUCKS (BTW PLEASE VOTE BERNIE OR ILL LEAVE THIS PLACE) SO REALLY SOMEONE NEEDS TO TELL YOU GUYS ONCE AND FOR ALL ITS NOT FUNNY TO ACCUSE ME OF BEING A WEABOO OR SOMETHING BECAUSE ITS JUST FALSE!!!
Weebs
I'm not gay but I want to live with Kanye West
I want to live in a log cabin in the woods with Kanye. We won't ever have sex, but there will be a simmering erotic undercurrent as I stand in the kitchen window watching him tighten his ass as he chops wood, shirtless, sweat pouring off his body. I'll run upstairs and masturbate, the entire time forcing myself to think of women while my thoughts drift back to Kanye. I won't be able to climax and I'll eventually go back downstairs, angry. Sometimes we will look across the table and catch each other's eyes, and in that second, anything is possible, but we both deny ourselves and go back to what we were doing. One day one of us will die, and the other will bury him outside the log cabin. Then they'll go inside, pen a brief missive to their departed friend, and commit suicide, never able to deal with life without their one true platonic love.