Flying, and travel in general, is stressful. And want to know one of the best stress relievers? That's right, masturbation. So what if a person wants to relieve some of that tension by spanking the monkey or flicking the bean? There's nothing wrong with paddling the pink canoe or Jackin' the beanstalk. It's totally natural to give yourself a nice little under the pants handshake. We all need to visit the purple headed soldier from time to time. It's not hurting anyone so if it's not your forte, just put on your headphones and ignore the man next to you playing a solo on his skin flute. Society should be way more accepting of masturbation on airplanes.
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Spam is a brand of several canned precooked meat products
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Spam is a brand of several canned precooked meat products made by the Hormel Foods Corporation. It was first introduced in 1937 and gained popularity worldwide after its use during World War 2
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Kripp
That hunk of a man, Blank
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That hunk of a man, Blank, is an E-sports athlete? Unbelievable. He could be a freakin model. Or a pro footballer with a ripped physique like that. That is by far the hottest sportsman to ever grace the esports industry. I'd let him blunk me any day.
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LCK
League of Legends
Eminem is great but...
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Eminem is great but I listen to 3Pac, M&Ms, 3 Chainz, Big Wayne, Small Sean, 60 Cent, Snoop Catt, Mr. Dre, Ice Cubed, Old Jeezy, Jay-Y, Soulja Girl, Jizz Khalifa, Anna Kendrick Lamar, Hard-E, Andre 2999, Big B, Weak Mill, Semi-Automatic Kelly, Adult Cudi, Wu-Tang Tag Team, KRS-Two, and Kanye East instead.
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Forsen
Alvin from "Alvin and the Chipmunks" is not a chipmunk
Alvin from "Alvin and the Chipmunks" is not a chipmunk. This is proven by the name "Alvin and the Chipmunks", as you can see, Alvin is separated from the chipmunks, suggesting that Alvin is an entirely different species, making him an "imposter" amongst the others. Also, in "The Chipettes", Brittney has the strongest resemblance to Alvin, so why is it not called "Brittney and the Chipettes". So all that proves that Alvin is not a chipmunk. Not to mention that Alvin wears red, and I'm not sure about you, but that seems awfully sus to me. In the video game "Among us", the color red is was the birth of the obnoxious catchphrase, "red sus", being that the color red in the game is a stereotype that they are the imposter. While that might be unrelated, keep in mind that Alvin wears red too, and he is also the imposter amongst the other chipmunks. So this proves that Alvin is not a chipmunk, or anything like that. Alvin is just a sussy amogus imposter.
I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut
I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut. It was the greatest mistake of my life.
After years of perfecting my recipe, I made my way down to the local hut, fresh-baked pizza pie in hand. "Try this," I told the kid working the counter. He did, and he had to agree that it was better than anything Pizza Hut had to offer. Soon, the entire store, customers included, was feasting on my delicious pie. The manager walked over, grabbed a slice, and took a bite. I look at him, anticipation rising. This was the boss, the local fief lord of the Hut. His approval meant more to me than all the rest combined. He took a bite and nodded. "I'll be damned," he said, "you really did it. You out-pizza'd the Hut. Shame." Shame? What did he mean by tha- the manager pulled a gun out from behind his apron and shot the nearest customer in the head. "We have a Code Jalapeño," he said into his wrist as he executed the remaining customers. "I repeat, we have a Code Jalapeño." The ground was slick with blood. The kid working the counter choked out his dying breath as the manager turned to me. "You just had to do it motherfucker. You just had to out-pizza the Hut." He shoved the gun in my face. I was too scared to fight, too scared to run. The manager pulled the trigger.
A click. The gun was empty. I threw a chair at the manager and scrambled out of the Pizza Hut, not even bothering to see if my missile hit its mark. I was closely pursued by the manager, who had gotten his hands on a deadly sharp pizza cutter. I suspected in his hands it would cut more than pizza. Somehow, I was able to get into my car and speed off, the manager cursing my existence as I left him behind. I took a deep breath. The manager was clearly psychotic. Yes, that was it, just a crazy man with a gun. It had to be. My phone rang. Sister. I picked it. "They're dead, she sobbed. They're all dead. M-mom, dad, Chris, Bill. Dead. They killed them all." I could barely understand her, so great were her sobs. "What do you mean? Where are you?" I asked urgently. "How is this possi-" a single gunshot sounded through my phone's speakers. Silence. Then, I heard a man's voice. "No one out-pizzas the Hut." He hung up. I drove down the empty county road, mind blank. I had nothing. They killed my family. I was alone.
At that moment I knew what I had to do. They took everything from me. Well then, I would take everything from them. Pizza Hut was so terrified of being out-pizza'd, they forgot there's one thing worse than a man with a recipe: A man with nothing to lose. I'll give them a limited time offer they won't be able to refuse: two bullets for the price of one.
With a free side order of pain.