I live in a low income housing environment that goes by the government name of section 8. Me and a group of my allies control certain areas of this section to run our illegitimate business. We poses unregistered firearms, stolen vehicles, mind altering inhibitors and only use cash or financial purchases. If anyone would like to settle unfinished altercations, I will be more than happy to release my address. I would like to warn you, I am a very dangerous person and I regularly disobey the law.
I live in a low income housing environment that goes by the government name of "Section 8." Me and a group of my allies control certain areas of this section in order to run our illegitimate business. We possess unregistered firearms, stolen vehicles, mind-altering inhibitors and only use cash for financial purchases. If anyone would like to settle unfinished altercations, I will be more than happy to release my address. I would like to warn you; I am a very dangerous person and I regularly disobey the law.
Cum has ruined food for me. A few days ago, after ejaculating, I noticed that my cum had a delicious aroma and decided to give it a taste. I both regret it more than any other decision I have made in my life and see it as a positive, life-changing experience. Cum has a taste like no other. It has both a subtle sweetness that I didn’t know was possible to achieve and a tangy, bitter aftertaste that I can’t describe as anything other than divine. The consistency depends on my fluid intake, but the viscous yet fluid type is what I like. I have noticed that I need to have 1.5-2 liters of water, 6 hours before ejaculation to achieve this consistency, which is neither too runny, nor too jelly-like. This is the kind that can be consumed straight after ejaculation, without any additives. The runny kind does have its uses, though, unless it is too runny. I’ve tried making cumlettes with it and they’ve turned out really well, except for the quantity, of course. I like to have the spongy, jelly-like stuff (which comes out when I’m dehydrated) with a bit of powdered sugar on top as dessert and it is absolutely scrumptious. The bad thing about this is that I can only cum so much every day, which makes it harder to secure nutrition, as normal food seems bland to me now.
My son is three years old, and we've been trying to potty train him for a while now. Unfortunately, we've hit a major roadblock - his fear of the "skibidi toilet"
You might be wondering what a "skibidi toilet" is, and honestly, I had no idea either until we encountered it. Fron what I've gathered, "skibidi toilet" is basically a new genre of youtube video about evil singing toilets. Basically think zombies but instead they're toilets that sing in your face. I was fine to let my son watch the videos at first, as they seemed innocent enough and fairly harmless, but they soon devolved into strange post apocalyptic material with grotesque toilets fighting in a war against mankind, so I finally intervened and cut him off.
I thought that was the end of it, he can't watch the videos anymore so theres nothing to be afraid of. Well, I was wrong. This has since turned into a complete nightmare for us at home. We recently started potty training and he refuses to use the toilet now due to skibidi toilet. Whenever we try to put him on it he screams and refuses to go anywhere near it. We've tried explaining that skibidi toilet isnt real and our toilet is completely safe, but it seems like it's too overwhelming for him. We even let him decorate it with stickers, hoping it would make him less afraid, but no luck so far. It utterly breaks my heart to see him so anxious about such a simple thing that every child goes through.
I'm not sure how to proceed from here. Should we give him more time and hope that he warms to the toilet, or is it better to try a completely different approach? I know every child is different, but has anyone else experienced something similar? How did you deal with skibidi toilet in your household, if you encountered it?
Możecie nalać polaczkowi Don Perignona, albo dobrej whisky 18 letniej. Polaczek wypije duszkiem i powie, że cierpkie i jakieś mdłe. Dacie polakowi trufli to powie, że to jakiś zgniły czosnek. Zaparzycie polaczkowi dobrego espresso z dobrej, ręcznej maszyny, z świeżo mielonych ziaren bardzo dobrej jakości, powie że jakaś mała ta kawa i w ogóle kwaśna i i dziwnie smakuje. Dlatego mnie nie dziwi, że 3/4 z was, biedaki szkaluje HAWAJSKĄ. Nie dziwi mnie to, ponieważ wiem że jesteście tylko biednymi cebulakami i całe życie schabowe z mięsa za 7,99/kg. Nie znacie życia, wasze kubki smakowe są wypalone od podrobionych fajek i chujowej wódki. Nigdy nie mieliście okazji poznać smaków. Na widok pizzy z miodem byście pewnie skakali i darli mordę jak te małpy w zoo. Kompozycja słodko-słone, albo słodko-kwaśne to jedna z najlepszych rzeczy jakie można skonsumować. Prawdziwa eksplozja dla wyrafinowanych smakoszy.
W cywilizowanej i rozwiniętej Japonii, kiedy córka przyprowadza i przedstawia swojego wybranka rodzicom, ci wykonują test. Podają mu Hawajską. Kiedy chłopak pizzy nie zje, albo powie że mu nie smakuje, to wiadomo że pochodzi z patologicznej rodziny. Test działa z dokładnością 100% i nawet WHO i ONZ przyznali, że u rodzin w których dominuje alkoholizm, narkomaństwo i kazirodztwo zawsze pojawia się niechęć do pizzy z ananasem.
Open English versionClose
You can pour a polack Don Perignon, or a good whiskey 18 years old. Polack will drink it in a stranglehold and say it's tart and kind of bland. You give a polack a truffle he will say it is some rotten garlic. If you give a Pole a good espresso from a good, manual machine, with freshly ground beans of very good quality, he will say that the coffee is small and in general sour and tastes strange. That's why it doesn't surprise me that 3/4 of you poor people vilify Hawaiian. It doesn't surprise me because I know that you are just poor onions and all your life pork from meat for 7.99/kg. You don't know life, your taste buds are burnt out from fake pipes and #!$%@? vodka. You have never had the opportunity to experience flavors. At the sight of a pizza with honey you would probably jump and dart around like those monkeys in the zoo. The composition of sweet and salty, or sweet and sour is one of the best things you can consume. A real explosion for sophisticated gourmets.
In civilized and developed Japan, when a daughter brings and introduces her chosen one to her parents, the parents do a test. They serve him a Hawaiian. When the boy won't eat the pizza, or says he doesn't like it, it is known that he comes from a pathological family. The test works with 100% accuracy, and even the WHO and the UN have admitted that in families where alcoholism, drug abuse and incest are prevalent, there is always an aversion to pineapple pizza.
kiedyś na woodstocku poznałem bardzo sympatyczną parę gejów i ich 5-cio letniego synka. Mieli cudowne poczucie humoru, spali razem w namiocie obok mojego. Pewnego razu chcieli się ruchać i poprosili żebym zabrał Pawełka na spacer - poszliśmy na koncert Behemota, niestety stałem przy barierkach z małym na barkach i dostałem potężną dawkę gazu musztardowego. Broniłbym się, ale po tabletkach z marichuaną miałem zwiotczałe mięśnie. Jak się obudziłem to mały dogorywał na scenie, przybity do krzyża. Nie wiedziałem jak powiedzieć chłopakom więc pobiegłem do Jurka Owsiaka, zapłakany, spanikowany. Od Jurka bił spokój i charyzma, kazał wolontariuszom wstrzyknąć mi heroinę i obiecał, że zajmie się tematem. I zrobił to - załatwił fajnego, ładnego chłopaka z jednego ze szpitali które dotował (rodzicom powiedzieli że zmarł), pięknie umalował i ubrał w śliczną sukienkę a wolontariusze na lektyce zanieśli go jako dar dla moich przyjaciół z namiotu obok. Byli zachwyceni, jeszcze tego samego wieczora taplaliśmy się wszyscy nago w błocie i tradycyjnie pluliśmy na godło i portret Papieża. Wpadł nawet sam Nergal który w ramach przeprosin podarował całe wiadro krokodyla - towaru było tak dużo, że wszystkich częstowaliśmy a i tak wróciłem do domu z dwoma dużymi słoikami
Open English versionClose
once at woodstock I met a very nice gay couple and their 5-year-old son. They had a wonderful sense of humor and slept together in the tent next to mine. One time they wanted to move and asked me to take Pawel for a walk - we went to the Behemoth concert, unfortunately I was standing by the barriers with the little one on my shoulders and got a massive dose of mustard gas. I would have defended myself, but after the marichuan pills I had flabby muscles. When I woke up the little one was dying on the stage, nailed to the cross. I didn't know how to tell the guys so I ran to Jurek Owsiak, weeping, panicked. Calm and charisma shone from Jurek, he had the volunteers inject me with heroin and promised to take care of the subject. And he did - he got a nice, pretty boy from one of the hospitals he subsidized (his parents said he had died), beautifully made up and dressed him in a lovely dress and the volunteers on a lectern carried him as a gift to my friends in the tent next door. They were delighted, and later that evening we all wallowed naked in the mud and traditionally spit on the Pope's emblem and portrait. Even Nergal himself dropped by who, as an apology, donated a whole bucket of crocodile - the stuff was so plentiful that we served everyone and I still came home with two large jars
