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I've heard shoving things up your ass is quite painful so you might want to start with something small like your intelligence and build up to bigger things like your ego
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(βΜΏΔΉΜ―ββ¬β΄β¬β΄ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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American website, American computers, American game
This is probably the worst thing I've ever seen
This is probably the worst thing I've ever seen. 100 years from now when I'm dying on a hospital bed and I'm asked what my biggest regret was it will be that I turned on my internet and scrolled through the internet on that fateful day... I will never be able to recover from this. No amount of therapy will save me. No amount of prescription pills will let me recover. I am a shell. This memory is so bad my brain is physically rejecting it and now I have a headache every time I think about it. Why did you post this, thinking it was a good idea? You've permanently ruined my life because of this, I hope you're happy. I hope that one day this gets branded as a war crime and you get hauled off to prison, never to see the light of day again. The fact that you're already not in a psych ward for insanity is so baffling I have lost all faith in every kind of justice system. If you subscribe to any religion, you'd best spend the rest of your time atoning for this ultimate sin. Have a terrible day, I hope this creation of yours haunts you in your dreams.
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When you copy messages don't copy the name
DONT COPY THE Only the chosen one can hold his donger
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8=====> Only the chosen one can hold his donger β 
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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."