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[Copypasta]Horny during Space Jam 2
OK so I was watching space jam 2 and I got RANDOMLY horny. I didn’t wanna exit the movie so I just waited till the Lola scene came up. It came. I started JACKING the SHIT out my pecker. And then.. I ACCIDENTLY NUTTED TO LEBRON😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
OK so I was watching space jam 2 and I got RANDOMLY horny. I didn’t wanna exit the movie so I just waited till the Lola scene came up. It came. I started JACKING the SHIT out my pecker. And then.. I ACCIDENTLY NUTTED TO LEBRON😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
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Give me a second guys, Dex says
twitchquotes:"Give me a second, guys," Dex says. "Gotta hit up the mailman" He turns down the volume on his bork, and immediately gives Kripp a swift kick down the stairs. As Kripp yelps loudly in pain, Dex overturns the nearest chair, yelling "Fuck this delivery!" as loudly as he can. Fey tries to calm him down, but Dex swiftly bodyslams her onto a glass coffee table. After taking a few deep breaths, Dex wipes the blood off of his snout, sits back down at his ball, and resumes being a good doggy
"Give me a second, guys," Dex says. "Gotta hit up the mailman" He turns down the volume on his bork, and immediately gives Kripp a swift kick down the stairs. As Kripp yelps loudly in pain, Dex overturns the nearest chair, yelling "Fuck this delivery!" as loudly as he can. Fey tries to calm him down, but Dex swiftly bodyslams her onto a glass coffee table. After taking a few deep breaths, Dex wipes the blood off of his snout, sits back down at his ball, and resumes being a good doggy
twitchquotes:Infinite poop. You sit on the toilet to poop, but the poop never stops coming out of your butt. You have to start flushing the toilet every two minutes to keep up. You try to pinch your butt closed but that makes your insides hurt. The poop accelerates. You call 911. The paramedics call for doctors. The doctors call for specialists. The story trends on Twitter. You turn down talk show appearances. Your septic tank fails. People form a cult. Your toilet is finished. Volunteers arrive with buckets and shovels. You are completely used to the smell. The poop accelerates. You are moved to a stepladder with a hole in the top step. The poop accelerates. The shovelers abandon the buckets and shovel directly out the window. The poop accelerates. A candlelight vigil forms around your house. One of the workers falls over and can't free himself. The poop accelerates. A priest knocks over the stepladder and tackles you out the window. You land in the pile. The poop accelerates. The force now propels you forward and upward. Vigil goers grab at your legs. The poop ignites from their candles. The Facebook live event hits 1 million viewers. The poop accelerates. You are 30 feet in the air. The fire engulfs the vigil and your house. 60 feet. The poop accelerates. The torrent underneath you is deafening. 5 million Facebook live viewers. You try to close up shop but your butthole disintegrated long ago. 120 feet up. Your house explodes. The poop accelerates. 1000 feet. You are now tracked on radar. You try to change your angle of ascent but you should have thought of that way earlier. The poop accelerates. 4,000 feet. NORAD upgrades to DEFCON 3. Concentric circles of fire engulf your city. The poop accelerates. You have broken the sound barrier. 30,000 feet. You no longer take in enough oxygen to sustain consciousness. 60,000 feet. CNN is reporting on all the world records you've broken. 200,000 feet. You are no longer alive. The poop accelerates. Your body disintegrates but your poop contrail remains. NASA can no longer track you. You break the light-speed barrier and we can no longer bear witness. The poop accelerates. Forever.
Infinite poop. You sit on the toilet to poop, but the poop never stops coming out of your butt. You have to start flushing the toilet every two minutes to keep up. You try to pinch your butt closed but that makes your insides hurt. The poop accelerates. You call 911. The paramedics call for doctors. The doctors call for specialists. The story trends on Twitter. You turn down talk show appearances. Your septic tank fails. People form a cult. Your toilet is finished. Volunteers arrive with buckets and shovels. You are completely used to the smell. The poop accelerates. You are moved to a stepladder with a hole in the top step. The poop accelerates. The shovelers abandon the buckets and shovel directly out the window. The poop accelerates. A candlelight vigil forms around your house. One of the workers falls over and can't free himself. The poop accelerates. A priest knocks over the stepladder and tackles you out the window. You land in the pile. The poop accelerates. The force now propels you forward and upward. Vigil goers grab at your legs. The poop ignites from their candles. The Facebook live event hits 1 million viewers. The poop accelerates. You are 30 feet in the air. The fire engulfs the vigil and your house. 60 feet. The poop accelerates. The torrent underneath you is deafening. 5 million Facebook live viewers. You try to close up shop but your butthole disintegrated long ago. 120 feet up. Your house explodes. The poop accelerates. 1000 feet. You are now tracked on radar. You try to change your angle of ascent but you should have thought of that way earlier. The poop accelerates. 4,000 feet. NORAD upgrades to DEFCON 3. Concentric circles of fire engulf your city. The poop accelerates. You have broken the sound barrier. 30,000 feet. You no longer take in enough oxygen to sustain consciousness. 60,000 feet. CNN is reporting on all the world records you've broken. 200,000 feet. You are no longer alive. The poop accelerates. Your body disintegrates but your poop contrail remains. NASA can no longer track you. You break the light-speed barrier and we can no longer bear witness. The poop accelerates. Forever.
I want a man who is a cunning linguist
twitchquotes:"Are you sure you've ever pleasured a woman before, poppet?" Mother asked with a snear, unamused by the clumsy performance of a rapper who couldn't use his tongue. "I'm doing my best, yo!" he replied, muffled between Mother's thighs. "You talk a big game, Mr. Dab, but you are proving to be quite a disappointment." The tattoo-faced man lifted his head aghast, his voice raising in pitch, "I got you a limo, yo, what else do you want?" Mother chuckled, "I want a man who is a cunning linguist"
"Are you sure you've ever pleasured a woman before, poppet?" Mother asked with a snear, unamused by the clumsy performance of a rapper who couldn't use his tongue. "I'm doing my best, yo!" he replied, muffled between Mother's thighs. "You talk a big game, Mr. Dab, but you are proving to be quite a disappointment." The tattoo-faced man lifted his head aghast, his voice raising in pitch, "I got you a limo, yo, what else do you want?" Mother chuckled, "I want a man who is a cunning linguist"