VoteYea VoteNay Is today the day when I should finally end it all? β FeelsGoodMan π«
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Infinite Cum Part 3
Your release had increased so much that they could no longer contain you. Your cum has consumed the entirety of the cosmos. Humanity is without a shred of doubt, gone.
You are alone in the universe.
If there were aliens, they are dead now.
Itβs over.
In despair, you mourn the death of the scientists, of humanity, of everyone. You realize you'll never hear her sweet and calming voice, see her proud body.
Your sad. Your terrified. Chronicles pass. The last stars in the universe eclipse. You silently watch as the last atoms break into protons, into quarks, into mere beams of weak energy that disperse along the vertical ropes. But the ropes no longer play their docile music. They have gonne silent.
You watch, helplessly, as the Last mozon is engulfed into the ever expanding plane of Cum. Your own creation destroys the very own universe, defying the own plan of existence.
You are alone.
You scream, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You cry, but nothing descends from your eyes. Do you even have eyes? All you can see is the torrid Instotucional white across the whole of the Universe. Entire Gans eclipse before your eyes, but then you realize the horror: The Cum turned against you.
With nothing more to consume, your sons turned against their father, and begin to consume you. You tremble. There's nothing to do. The huge weight impacts you like if whole planets fell onto your shoulders. Your alone. In your last moments, a odd sentiment of peace invades you for the first time since the early days of the universe. It's finally gonna end. You think about all the people that you've met during your stay in this universe. In the end, you think about the researcher. About her arms. Her breasts. You feel... good. For the first time in many hipereons. You jack off it.
It's so.... good, you come at the right time, freeing the constrained cum from your menber. You open your eyes, and behold the bathroom door.
You are Ok. You remember everything. It's all over.
You exit the bathroom after jacking off again, going back to your old life.
The cum stops.
Your release had increased so much that they could no longer contain you. Your cum has consumed the entirety of the cosmos. Humanity is without a shred of doubt, gone.
You are alone in the universe.
If there were aliens, they are dead now.
Itβs over.
In despair, you mourn the death of the scientists, of humanity, of everyone. You realize you'll never hear her sweet and calming voice, see her proud body.
Your sad. Your terrified. Chronicles pass. The last stars in the universe eclipse. You silently watch as the last atoms break into protons, into quarks, into mere beams of weak energy that disperse along the vertical ropes. But the ropes no longer play their docile music. They have gonne silent.
You watch, helplessly, as the Last mozon is engulfed into the ever expanding plane of Cum. Your own creation destroys the very own universe, defying the own plan of existence.
You are alone.
You scream, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You cry, but nothing descends from your eyes. Do you even have eyes? All you can see is the torrid Instotucional white across the whole of the Universe. Entire Gans eclipse before your eyes, but then you realize the horror: The Cum turned against you.
With nothing more to consume, your sons turned against their father, and begin to consume you. You tremble. There's nothing to do. The huge weight impacts you like if whole planets fell onto your shoulders. Your alone. In your last moments, a odd sentiment of peace invades you for the first time since the early days of the universe. It's finally gonna end. You think about all the people that you've met during your stay in this universe. In the end, you think about the researcher. About her arms. Her breasts. You feel... good. For the first time in many hipereons. You jack off it.
It's so.... good, you come at the right time, freeing the constrained cum from your menber. You open your eyes, and behold the bathroom door.
You are Ok. You remember everything. It's all over.
You exit the bathroom after jacking off again, going back to your old life.
The cum stops.
Why Harry Potter should have carried a 1911
Ok, this has been driving me crazy for seven movies now, and I know you're going to roll your eyes, but hear me out: Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.
Here's why:
Think about how quickly the entire WWWIII (Wizarding-World War III) would have ended if all of the good guys had simply armed up with good ol' American hot lead.
Basilisk? Let's see how tough it is when you shoot it with a .470 Nitro Express. Worried about its Medusa-gaze? Wear night vision goggles. The image is light-amplified and re-transmitted to your eyes. You aren't looking at it--you're looking at a picture of it.
Imagine how epic the first movie would be if Harry had put a breeching charge on the bathroom wall, flash-banged the hole, and then went in wearing NVGs and a Kevlar-weave stab-vest, carrying a SPAS-12.
And have you noticed that only Europe seems to a problem with Deatheaters? Maybe it's because Americans have spent the last 200 years shooting deer, playing GTA: Vice City, and keeping an eye out for black helicopters over their compounds. Meanwhile, Brits have been cutting their steaks with spoons. Remember: gun-control means that Voldemort wins. God made wizards and God made muggles, but Samuel Colt made them equal.
Now I know what you're going to say: "But a wizard could just disarm someone with a gun!" Yeah, well they can also disarm someone with a wand (as they do many times throughout the books/movies). But which is faster: saying a spell or pulling a trigger?
Avada Kedavra, meet Avtomat Kalashnikova.
Imagine Harry out in the woods, wearing his invisibility cloak, carrying a .50bmg Barrett, turning Deatheaters into pink mist, scratching a lightning bolt into his rifle stock for each kill. I don't think Madam Pomfrey has any spells that can scrape your brains off of the trees and put you back together after something like that. Voldemort's wand may be 13.5 inches with a Phoenix-feather core, but Harry's would be 0.50 inches with a tungsten core. Let's see Voldy wave his at 3,000 feet per second. Better hope you have some Essence of Dittany for that sucking chest wound.
I can see it now...Voldemort roaring with evil laughter and boasting to Harry that he can't be killed, since he is protected by seven Horcruxes, only to have Harry give a crooked grin, flick his cigarette butt away, and deliver what would easily be the best one-liner in the entire series:
"Well then I guess it's a good thing my 1911 holds 7+1."
And that is why Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.
Ok, this has been driving me crazy for seven movies now, and I know you're going to roll your eyes, but hear me out: Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.
Here's why:
Think about how quickly the entire WWWIII (Wizarding-World War III) would have ended if all of the good guys had simply armed up with good ol' American hot lead.
Basilisk? Let's see how tough it is when you shoot it with a .470 Nitro Express. Worried about its Medusa-gaze? Wear night vision goggles. The image is light-amplified and re-transmitted to your eyes. You aren't looking at it--you're looking at a picture of it.
Imagine how epic the first movie would be if Harry had put a breeching charge on the bathroom wall, flash-banged the hole, and then went in wearing NVGs and a Kevlar-weave stab-vest, carrying a SPAS-12.
And have you noticed that only Europe seems to a problem with Deatheaters? Maybe it's because Americans have spent the last 200 years shooting deer, playing GTA: Vice City, and keeping an eye out for black helicopters over their compounds. Meanwhile, Brits have been cutting their steaks with spoons. Remember: gun-control means that Voldemort wins. God made wizards and God made muggles, but Samuel Colt made them equal.
Now I know what you're going to say: "But a wizard could just disarm someone with a gun!" Yeah, well they can also disarm someone with a wand (as they do many times throughout the books/movies). But which is faster: saying a spell or pulling a trigger?
Avada Kedavra, meet Avtomat Kalashnikova.
Imagine Harry out in the woods, wearing his invisibility cloak, carrying a .50bmg Barrett, turning Deatheaters into pink mist, scratching a lightning bolt into his rifle stock for each kill. I don't think Madam Pomfrey has any spells that can scrape your brains off of the trees and put you back together after something like that. Voldemort's wand may be 13.5 inches with a Phoenix-feather core, but Harry's would be 0.50 inches with a tungsten core. Let's see Voldy wave his at 3,000 feet per second. Better hope you have some Essence of Dittany for that sucking chest wound.
I can see it now...Voldemort roaring with evil laughter and boasting to Harry that he can't be killed, since he is protected by seven Horcruxes, only to have Harry give a crooked grin, flick his cigarette butt away, and deliver what would easily be the best one-liner in the entire series:
"Well then I guess it's a good thing my 1911 holds 7+1."
And that is why Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.
I WAS MUTED FOR THE PAST 1200 SECONDS
twitchquotes:IVE BEEN MUTED FOR THE PAST 1200 SECONDS BECAUSE THE MODS CANT TAKE CRITICISM OR JOKES, IF I GET MUTED AGAIN, IM REPORTING THEM TO THE ODO FACTION TWITTER
IVE BEEN MUTED FOR THE PAST 1200 SECONDS BECAUSE THE MODS CANT TAKE CRITICISM OR JOKES, IF I GET MUTED AGAIN, IM REPORTING THEM TO THE ODO FACTION TWITTER
Arrested for Navy Seal copypasta
I've mentioned this a lot before, but one of my best friends from back home was arrested, jailed for three months, and sentenced to 2 years probation for sending someone the Navy Seal copypasta on Facebook. As of today, he is FINALLY legally allowed to be online again.
I've mentioned this a lot before, but one of my best friends from back home was arrested, jailed for three months, and sentenced to 2 years probation for sending someone the Navy Seal copypasta on Facebook. As of today, he is FINALLY legally allowed to be online again.