Guys, I’m literally detecting seismic activity. I never wanted to rock with anyone more than I want to with Carl. That perfect, chiseled body. Those bountiful hills. The majestic mountains of a literal god. It honestly fucking hurts knowing that I'll never rock with him, pass my sediment through him, and have him birth a set of perfect hot springs. I'd do fricking ANYTHING for the chance to get Carl’s rocks off. A N Y T H I N G. And the fact that I can't is quite honestly too much to fricking bear. Why would Supercell create something so perfect? To fricking tantalize us? Fricking laugh in our faces?! Honestly guys, I just fricking can't anymore. Frick.
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Unlucky
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Dear Hunter in chat, you are smart player
twitchquotes:
Dear Hunter in chat, you are smart player. Whatever is going on in your laddering right now, please know that you go face and you only ever go face. You are skilled.
Dear Hunter in chat, you are smart player. Whatever is going on in your laddering right now, please know that you go face and you only ever go face. You are skilled.
twitch chat
strifecro
Hearthstone
Be careful, selling out can affect a stream near you.
twitchquotes:
It has come to my understanding that our very own Forsken has turned in to a sellout. He no longer reads chat but only reads the $2 donations he gets. He accuses Frump of being a sellout, but is actually now worse than Frump. Please copy and paste this message to spread awareness. Be careful, selling out can affect a stream near you.
twitch chat
Forsen
sellout
I'm going all in boys!
twitchquotes:
ᕕ┌◕ᗜ◕┐ᕗ IM GOING ALL IN B O Y S! ʕ ͡·ᴥ ͡· ʔ Yᵒᵘ Oᶰˡʸ Lᶤᵛᵉ Oᶰᶜᵉ ʕ ͡·ᴥ ͡· ʔ
twitch chat
imaqtpie
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."