you can't spell "advertisements" without semen between tits
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
More Copypastas
Don't feel bad, I'm just better that you
twitchquotes:
Don't feel bad, I'm just better that you. Every morning I wake up and wash my adderall down with GFUEL™️, I have a python script that uploads my gameplay directly to reddit and I have amassed over 3 million karma. I only have TTV in my name ironically but also I have a stream PogChamp. If my ping were lower I would literally never lose, my 80% headshot percentage (op included) always carries my team. Let's be honest 
you will probably never be on my level because of my insane natural talent.
you will probably never be on my level because of my insane natural talent.
twitch chat
Dyrus thinks he's smart because of his eyes
regardless of your channel, you need to remove your Pepe emotes
idk who needs to hear this but regardless of your channel, you need to remove your Pepe emotes. It doesn’t matter what your intent is, the peepee frog causes harm and I will never feel comfortable in your stream with them present.
Ten reasons why you can't move to Scotland
Tin resins why ye canae move tae Sco'land.
Win - We dinnae want ye here
Tae - Yer nae hard enough
Threh - Ye wouldnae like the wither (and ye wouldne ken hoo tae describ it - dreich, drookit, haar, etc)
Fir - Yer a dafty who couldne git intae oor big skels and dinnae ken aboot the Sco'ish Enlightinment
Fiv - Yer a big girruls blouse and cannae keep up wi oor drinkin
Sex - Yed get snapped in hoff if ye played fitbaw wi us
sivvun - Ye coodnae handle the patter
It - Wae dinnae wint ye drivin up the hoos prices
Nin - Yer pribly a jobbyjabber who likes it it in the backsie
Tin - Oor wimmun boke at the sight of ye
If somehoo ye dae mit the abuv requirmints then ye can enter but ye must promis to vote fi SNP, the ONLY party that trilly represents Sco'land.
Fuck off hame any English cunts.
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.