SLEEP TEST 🛏 IF YOU TOUCH THE BED , GO TO SLEEP ⎝ ResidentSleeper
Nacho cheese torpedo
twitchquotes:Guys, please don't spam. My daughter made a macaroni dinosaur in school and it passes its days pasted to my laptop screen. When too many messages show up it starts turning into a nacho cheese torpedo. God bless, thanks for understanding.
Guys, please don't spam. My daughter made a macaroni dinosaur in school and it passes its days pasted to my laptop screen. When too many messages show up it starts turning into a nacho cheese torpedo. God bless, thanks for understanding.
Oops I dropped my CONGA LINE
twitchquotes:Oops I dropped my CONGA LINE 🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶
Oops I dropped my CONGA LINE 🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶 CONGA LINE 💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶💃🏃🚶
Is that all you shitposting fucks can say?!
Is that all you shitposting fucks can say?!? Duurrhhlll... Based, based, cringe, cringe, based, based, cringe, cringe, cringe, based, cringe... I feel like I'm in a FUCKING asylum full of dementia-ridden old people that can do nothing but repeat the same FUCKING words on loop like a fucking broken record!!! Cringe cringe cringe cringe!!! Cringe, based, based! Onions? Onions, SNOYY!! Onions L O L onions! Cringe, BOOMER?? Le zoomer, I am BOOMER!!! No zoom zoom zoomies!! Zoomer going zoomies!! YnnnggGGHHAAHH I..FUCKING hate the internet so god DAMN much... FUCK! Shitposting, honest to...god...fucking hope your mother CHOKES on her own feces in hell you...COCK SUCKER. But oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh I know my post is CRINGE!! ISN'T IT??? Cringe, cringe, CRINGEY cringe, based, cringe, based, REDDIT?? CRINGE!! BASED? CRINGE!! ZOOM?? CRINGE!! ONIONS?? REDDIT, BASED....BASED!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Is that all you shitposting fucks can say?!? Duurrhhlll... Based, based, cringe, cringe, based, based, cringe, cringe, cringe, based, cringe... I feel like I'm in a FUCKING asylum full of dementia-ridden old people that can do nothing but repeat the same FUCKING words on loop like a fucking broken record!!! Cringe cringe cringe cringe!!! Cringe, based, based! Onions? Onions, SNOYY!! Onions L O L onions! Cringe, BOOMER?? Le zoomer, I am BOOMER!!! No zoom zoom zoomies!! Zoomer going zoomies!! YnnnggGGHHAAHH I..FUCKING hate the internet so god DAMN much... FUCK! Shitposting, honest to...god...fucking hope your mother CHOKES on her own feces in hell you...COCK SUCKER. But oooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhh I know my post is CRINGE!! ISN'T IT??? Cringe, cringe, CRINGEY cringe, based, cringe, based, REDDIT?? CRINGE!! BASED? CRINGE!! ZOOM?? CRINGE!! ONIONS?? REDDIT, BASED....BASED!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."