absolutely hate it when iβm poopin and i just get randomly hard and my tip touches the inside of the bowl π€’
like why did toilet inventors have small dicks fr, this issue shouldnβt even exist π #bigdickoppression
You're probably one of those dudes who walks down the street and everybody looks at him and just yeah, small dick. That's probably who you are. I hope you get really insecure next time you're out in public like, walking down the street and you see someone look at you a little bit and you're like, "oh why are they looking at me? Oh it must just be normal passing traffic" No! Everybody knows. Every girl you meet. Like, when you go talk to a girl in a club. You go "hi my name's Terry" she knows. They all know. I hope you become very insecure because you fucking should be. Everybody whose ever glanced at your pathetic miserable face has known that you have a fucking miniscule penis. And they will for the rest of your life. How does that make you feel?
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If you're going to do it while mom and dad are home, can you at least shut the door, and not be so loud about it? For god's sake, if you're going to watch pornography, at least put in headphones, we don't want to hear that shit through the Bluetooth speaker. I don't want to know that my fourteen-year-old son is into scat porn. I didn't need to hear that, but now the whole family knows. Grandma was over visiting. She was down in the dining room, eating a biscuit, drinking some tea, and the next thing we know, the Bluetooth speaker starts playing this crazy scat porn. We heard all sorts of women moaning, and fart sounds, and what can only be described as poop being used as lubricant for somebody's penis. It was distasteful. It probably didn't taste very good, because shit as far as I know, doesn't have a good flavor. I tried your mother's shit one time, and it was not that great. It was fine, probably 3/10 at best, but I wouldn't recommend it. If it was served to me on a plate, I wouldn't return to that restaurant. I would say, "You know what. This chef, he did not do his best. This shit, subpar. Not the greatest."
Own a sword for manor defence, since that's what the Magna Carta intended. Four heathens break into my cottage. "What in the Lord's name?" As I grab my aventail bascinet and windlass arbalest. Punch a bolt through the first man, he's dead on the spot. Throw a pot of naft at the second man and miss entirely since it's a hand thrown grenade in the dark and burns down the neighbour's harvest causing them to starve in the winter. I have to resort to the pot of boiling oil at the top of the hay loft "Deus Lo Vult!" The boiling oil completely drenches two men and cause them to scream in agony and writhe on the ground, racked with incomprehensible pain. The screams of pain frightens horses in nearby stables. Draw sword and charge the last terrified infidel. He bleeds out with no one to assist him since this is Feudal Europe and nobody gives a shit. Just as the Magna Carta intended.
Soulless hunks of plastic with no redeeming qualities. This company swallows up creative ips and shits them out as identical little pieces of shit, and people just eat. That. Shit. Up.
And everyone thinks they are the exception too- βoh I dont like them, but I have one or two that I got as a gift that I like! They look cool on my shelf!β
No. Fuck off. Youβre part of the problem.
I want to melt them in a cauldron and pour them over peoples heads like that one scene in game of thrones with Daenerysβ creepy brother.
Source: worked in a shop that sold them, I hate every single person that ever bought one. The collectors were the worse but even watching normal people coo over them was just sickening