Swagg::Net::Guestbook

My family poops big. Maybe it’s genetic, maybe it’s our diet, but everyone births giant logs of crap. If anyone has laid a mega-poop, you know that sometimes it won’t flush. It lays across the hole in the bottom of the bowl and the vortex of draining water merely gives it a spin as it mocks you. Growing up, this was a common enough occurrence that our family had a poop knife. It was an old rusty kitchen knife that hung on a nail in the laundry room, only to be used for that purpose. It was normal to walk through the hallway and have someone call out “hey, can you get me the poop knife”? I thought it was standard kit. You have your plunger, your toilet brush, and your poop knife. Fast forward to 22. It’s been a day or two between poops and I’m over at my friend’s house. My friend was the local dealer and always had ‘guests’ over, because you can’t buy weed without sitting on your ass and sampling it for an hour. I excuse myself and lay a gigantic turd. I look down and see that it’s a sideways one, so I crack the door and call out for my friend. He arrives and I ask him for his poop knife. “My what?” Your poop knife, I say. I need to use it. Please. “Wtf is a poop knife?” Obviously he has one, but maybe he calls it by a more delicate name. A fecal cleaver? A Dung divider? A guano glaive? I explain what it is I want and why I want it. He starts giggling. Then laughing. Then lots of people start laughing. It turns out, the music stopped and everyone heard my pleas through the door. It also turns out that none of them had poop knives, it was just my fucked up family with their fucked up bowels. FML. I told this to my wife last night, who was amused and horrified at the same time. It turns out that she did not know what a poop knife was and had been using the old rusty knife hanging in the utility closet as a basic utility knife. Thankfully she didn’t cook with it, but used it to open Amazon boxes. She will be getting her own utility knife now.

Now I got a message for all you liberals out there. You want my gun? My firearm?! Come take it from me. Just walk through my door! Come into my home, and take it from me! With your weak, soft... liberal, girlish hands... Just try to put those hands on me! Those soft liberal hands... Put them on me! On my body! Just slowly... gently... dragging your fingers up and down my arm giving me goosebumps. You want my gun?! Come kiss me for it! But not like right away, don't be too obvious with it. Let's do that thing where we- our faces get close to each other and you know what's gonna happen it's just a matter of time you just stare at each others lips but you're waiting for the right signal to give yourself over to them completely, like in a Walk To Remember... Come do that for my gun! Bite my lip and play with my hair... for my firearm! If you want my gun, come spank me for it! Not like-Not like too hard.. but like like.. still hard, you know? Li-Like-Like hurt me but make me feel safe at the same time. You pussy liberals!

swagg

So, you've lost No Nut November. What does that mean? It means you're weak for you've succumbed to mere temporary carnal pleasure. You have abandoned the power of self-control for a few seconds of ecstasy, and where does that leave you? Alone, Abandoned, Ashamed. You may claim that you stand strong, tall and healthy over us for the simple act of stimulating your sexual organ might help prevent prostate cancer, but what are 30 days of releasing your unborn children against 335 days of being able to. Your sick perversion has left you down with all the other rotten peasants who couldn't stray from their addiction for a simple month. You could've joined your comrades in the majestic gates of Valhalla as you pleasured yourself to even the most depraved tags in your website of preference, yet here you lie defeated as your comrades continue to fight strong to the urge of mating whether it be with a sexual partner or their own extremity. Your mere presence disgusts them as their trust and belief in you slowly drifted from their hearts with each stroke you gave to your rod. May the guilt of your actions weigh you down for what's left of the month

I've been callin' y'all for better than a month, griping about y'all, every time Looney Tunes come on, y'all put Porky's Bu*thole on, I figure last night, and the second the cartoons come on, it was Porky's freakin' ol' Bu*thole, I said "Surely, y'all ain't gonna put the last two on Porky's freakin' Bu*thole", I, nah y'all are gonna die [if] you'all don't put Porky's freakin' Bu*thole on last dang' ol cartoon like you'all did this morning. I've seen the dang 'ol crap a half-a-million-and-a-half times. I don't see why in the heck y'all think these dang ol youngins are gonna sit there and watch Porky's dang ol Bu*thole, time after time after time after after [d-ol] time, and don't y'ever get tired of it, like– and, yesterday, y'all, I got up 7:30 in the morning, and watched all day, and I don't think y'all was right on time with y'own show all dag-gum day. I went to bed last night, wantin', wantin' to get– get one right. But y'all was wrong, still wrong. I was gonna say, I guess I'mma gonna have to call the FCC about shuttin' y'all's butt down. Y'all don't I just don't, you don't think no three-year-old kid's gonna buy, buy something, buy a dag-gon armload of stuff, cause y'all put'n those dang-old commercials on, dropping that crap on and on and on, it don't matter crap today, cause you was 5 minutes late this time, you gonna be 5 minutes late next time, cause you gonna drop those freakin' commercials on, till, till y'all get ready to... quit, yo. For some reason y'all think you're got'dang job every 10 minutes a commercial's on every dag-ol time, y'all get through, every time a show goes off or somethin. I dun-no.

*Sniff Sniff* i-is that a BOY I smell? *sniff* mmm yes I smell it! BOYSMELLS!!! I smell a boy W-What is a boy doing here?!?! omygosh what am I Gonna do?!?! THERE'S A BOY HERE! I'M FREAKING OUT SO MUCH!!!!! clam down calm down and take a nice, deep breathe....... It smells so good! I love boysmell so much!!!! It makes me feel so amazing. I'm getting tingles all over from the delicious boyscent! It's driving me boyCRAZY!!!!!!! if u are a boy and u are reading this, I just wanted to say hiiiiii cute boy!!!!! I love you

I know it sounds crazy but whenever I touch these sandwiches, your going to laugh at me, your going to think im nuts, your going to think im crazy. When I touch these sandwiches I feel the hands of every person whos touched them before me and after me, and I feel this jolt o’of like friggin lightning or something from my head to the tip of my you know what. Sometimes while im grabbing these sandwiches with my bare hands I just can’t help but throw my head back in ecstasy and moan so whenever I got out and talk to chicks I just, chicks say to me “what do you do?” And I say, Yes I do grab sandwiches with my bare hands in a factory. And don’t laughs, don’t laugh at me, I feel like a spirit like an orb shoot through my body every time I grab a sandwich. Ya know like a lot of people laugh at me, they beat me up, they give me black eyes, they broke my nose four times, you know because, because I just like to make sandwiches and I get bullied about it and I get bullied for it and they pull my underwear up an’and doodoo feces does fall out because of how hard they pull. But will I stop grabbing sandwiches with my bare hands and moving them down the assembly line? Absolutely friggin not if you know what I mean. Like, no, its just no way. Uhm, this is the only thing that brings my life joy. You can beat me up, you can threaten to kill me, you can dox me, ya can come to my house in a black SUV, I’m not going to stop doing this. I love the people of this country, I love given em soggy sandwiches and no im not going to stop.

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halp im locked out of my flat in dubai

effortposting? on a thursday night? it's more likely than you think