The joke is that the place is called "Sneed's Feed & Seed" which is clever in itself and quite funny to those with a mature sense of humour but what's really just hilarious about it is that if you look closely at the front of this store, Sneed's Feed & Seed, you can see a line that reads "Formerly Chuck's". Now, this might go over the average viewer's head as this, THIS, is peak comedy. I doubt anything will ever be as funny as the joke about Sneed's Feed & Seed. Are you ready for this one? So, like I said, the place is called "Sneed's Feed & Seed" and this sign says "Formerly Chuck's", which means that when Chuck owned the place, well, I don't have to tell you...
I used to be a real ad
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Momo 3
⣿⣿⡇⠄⣼⣿⣿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣦⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣰⣿⡿⠟⢻⣿⣿⣷⡀⠸⣿
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MAURICIO HONORATO
twitchquotes:
I have never seen a team with MAURICIO HONORATO lose a game.... I mean, he's perfect, incredible, good aim, intelligent, handsome... I honestly don't see MAURICIO HONORATO losing this game.
twitch chat
Overwatch
QT's stream ends, so does my life
twitchquotes:
̿' ̿'\̵͇̿̿\ qt's stream ends, so does my life ̿' ̿'\̵͇̿̿\
̿' ̿'\̵͇̿̿\ qt's stream ends, so does my life ̿' ̿'\̵͇̿̿\
twitch chat
imaqtpie
Classic
Rexxar diary GvG
twitchquotes:
ʀᴇxxᴀʀ ᴅɪᴀʀʏ ɢᴠɢ ᴅᴀʏ 1: ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴅᴇᴄᴋ ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ ɴᴏᴡ. ᴀᴍ ᴄᴏɴғᴜsᴇ. ᴛʀᴀᴅᴇ ᴏʀ ʜɪᴛ ғᴀᴄᴇ? ɪ ᴘʟᴀʏ ᴛ1 ᴜɴᴅᴇʀᴛᴀᴋᴇʀ ᴄᴏɪɴ ʟᴇᴘᴇʀ ɢɴᴏᴍᴇ? ɢᴠɢ ᴅᴀʏ 2: ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ, ʙʀᴀɪɴ ʜᴜʀᴛ. ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴏʟᴅ ᴅᴇᴄᴋ. ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴜsᴇ ᴏʟᴅ ᴅᴇᴄᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ʜɪᴛ ғᴀᴄᴇ. ᴀᴍ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴀᴅᴅ ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜʀᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ʀᴏʙᴏᴛ. ɢᴠɢ ᴅᴀʏ 3: ᴍᴇ sᴛɪʟʟ ᴡɪɴɴɪɴɢ.
twitch chat
Kripp
Hearthstone
It's not gay with socks on
When I was 13 years old a buddy of mine tried to convince me to fool around. I wasn't into it, and he told me it's not gay if you're wearing socks. I didn't believe him, went home, and asked my dad.
That's 'gentleman's gay', hardly gay at all. Don't see it much these days.
The 50s were a different time. What were we to do? We were typical boarding school boys, rich with vigor, skin slick with drying sweat and gritty earth from a game of pigskin.
At night our young, virile bodies filled the dorm with sweet-musky vapors, like game-meat stewed with apple and peppercorn. You'd awake in darkness to the hushed, melodic rhythm of two pairs of white tube socks, barely visible in moonlight, bouncing on the hardwood floor.
The deep bond of male friendship played like a thousand different human instruments. The wet claps of skin on skin, the gentle thud of heads on backboards, frenzied cries in the throes of climax. Wilbur, so fat and soft like tapioca pudding. His breasts were so like the real thing, what we fantasized of our future wives. Unwilling, defenseless Wilbur, so slow and uncoordinated in the dark. 10 of us would glaze his bare, pink flesh like a giant raspberry danish. He once had the audacity to tell Headmaster Redford. But Redford was a Deerfield boy once, he understood. So he joined us on our midnight hog hunts.
Through college and years after we'd find time here and there, away from the wives at a family lake house. But it's been decades now - the times have certainly changed. If you wanted to do something private with another man, in your socks, it wasn’t ‘gay’. It was just two men, celebrating each other's strength.