So as a joke, I went to my friend's house wearing Pekora's wig and clothes. I could barely stop my laughter as he went as red as a tomato and looked at me from head to toe with a bit of drool in his mouth. The way he stared made mde feel a bit funny too, but I decided to tease him more by taking off my clothes. He asked me, "Are you serious?" and I said "Yep peko."
He went silent for what seemed like forever, so I asked him, "What's the matter peko?" He said he's confused, but then his boner got really hard, which made me take off his clothes. I expected him to scream, "Stop!" as I kissed him and stroked his cock, but he instead shouted "Oh God, Pekora!" which made me get a boner myself. Before I knew it, I was blowing him for the first time till he came.
His semen was so thick, it got stuck inside my throat no matter how hard I swallowed. He then said, "I want to fuck you now!" and seeing that we've already gone that far and we were both naked, I obliged. A few hours later, the jerk went all pale and said to me "Why did we do that? Now I'm not fucking straight." But he still looked so cute all confused like that, so I took pity on him and reassured while wiping his cum off my face, "Let's just pretend I'ms till Pekora."
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Navy Seals Copypasta in Middle English
Bi God’s bons, hwat didest thou seien of min, thou litel cunte? Thou shalt knouen ich was gradūāten best in min classe in soldierie, and ich was in mani-fold skekeries on the Frenshe men, and I hawe more than thre hundred slaghs that ben verried. Ich am expertful in mancowe militaunce, and ich am the best longe-boue archer in all the Englisch hoste. Thou are nout to min but a newe marke. Ich wille thee sottili renden, semble-wise was neverte beholden; par fei! Thou think thou canst afforthe to speken that shite ouer the “Internet”? Think-agen, churl! as we speken nou, ich am spēking wit minen aspīeris in all of Engellonde, and thin estre bith spīen aboute noue, thus thou shalt fore-dighten before the storm, maddok! The storm that wille shenden that spītǒus frivōl thou namest “thine lif”. Thou art ded, childe. Ich can ben ought-wher, ought-tym, and ich can slen thou with ouer seven hundred methodes, and all bar-handed!
Ich am not only expertful in bar-handed baratri, but ich haue infare to the pleine armurie of the host of engelonde, and ich wille emploien hit for slen thine spitous arse, mandrake mymmerkin. If only thou cǒuthest hauen knouen what unblessed pūnīciǒun thine littel “gleu” glose was about to cause, parchaunce thou hauen holden thine tǒng stille. But thou cǒuthest nout, thou didest nout, and now thou paien for hit, thou simpleton. Ich wille casten oute furour upon thee, and thou wille senchen in hit. Thou art utterly ded, mannikin.
Navy Seal
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Kamala Harris loves Fweedom
Senator Kamala Harris started her life’s work young. She laughs from her gut, the way you would with family, as she remembers being wheeled through an Oakland, California, civil rights march in a stroller with no straps with her parents and her uncle. At some point, she fell from the stroller (few safety regulations existed for children's equipment back then), and the adults, caught up in the rapture of protest, just kept on marching. By the time they noticed little Kamala was gone and doubled back, she was understandably upset. "My mother tells the story about how I’m fussing," Harris told the magazine. "And she’s like, ‘Baby, what do you want? What do you need?’ And I just looked at her and I said, ‘Fweedom.’"