- frump truck
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hello... again!
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dunk your balls in some lemonade that some kid is selling in a stand on the side of the road
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Aug 1, 2020 16:15
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- Adbot
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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May 15, 2024 02:51
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- Areola Grande
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it's a free country u pervs
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Balls Purity sounds like an incel forum
I'm up for this too if u wanna organize it
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Aug 2, 2020 01:03
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- Prof. Crocodile
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Balls Purity sounds like an incel forum
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Aug 2, 2020 01:19
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- Pissed Ape Sexist
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Balls P-u-r-i-t-why?!? Because I GOTTA
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Aug 2, 2020 03:03
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- The_Rob
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Blah blah blah blah!!
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hey guys checkin in one my thread. I’m takin in some smells today
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Aug 2, 2020 03:19
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- nut
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the thread where keyboards go to die
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Aug 2, 2020 03:24
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- Honky Mao
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after shaving, mist lightly with diluted pine sap. Place a couple sprigs of rosemary into underpants. drink only water infused with basil and mint (alternating every three days). Continue this regimen for three weeks and I promise you, I guarantee you, a whiff of your balls will result in a heady high and a pain-killing experience similar to a couple percocets
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Aug 2, 2020 03:26
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- The_Rob
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Blah blah blah blah!!
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after shaving, mist lightly with diluted pine sap. Place a couple sprigs of rosemary into underpants. drink only water infused with basil and mint (alternating every three days). Continue this regimen for three weeks and I promise you, I guarantee you, a whiff of your balls will result in a heady high and a pain-killing experience similar to a couple percocets
I’m trying to get my aroma to give me the experience of molly. I got close the other day but it ended up being more of a cold medicine feel. oh well back to the drawing board.
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Aug 2, 2020 03:34
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- Honky Mao
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I’m trying to get my aroma to give me the experience of molly. I got close the other day but it ended up being more of a cold medicine feel. oh well back to the drawing board.
the trick is that you have to reduce your cold medicine intake, because it will be recycled out through the balls and you're double, even triple dipping on the robitussin if you aren't careful. Try to consume more fresh Basil
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Aug 2, 2020 03:38
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- Pissed Ape Sexist
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Put on skin-tight latex shorts, then shower. Do not get water and soap on your secret places. Leave them to marinate. Keep the shorts on though the rest of you is... acceptable. Always. Go mow the lawn. Build a shed. Help your brother move. All the while you're developing nuance in your giftwrapped latex funk cradle. After a week of heatwave toil, recline in the tub and cut off your latex prison with poultry shears. You're gross. You're so beautiful and cheesy and gross. The loathsome miasma makes you half swoon as your own byproduct rapes you through your lungs. Your left hand scoops a teaspoon of curdled nightmare from the space between thigh and ballsack. You place it delicately in a ramekin and cover it for transport. Black.
Light. You're at work. Shining sunlight on steel. Din of humans. Chris Morocco is tasting crab with a tiny spoon with his nose crinkled. Gaby flits between sinks, offering help. That snob Claire faux-emotes to the camera about difficulties in the reproduction of diamond-patterned wafers, as if you care. You smile anyway and adjust your beanie. Joke, as the little people do. Haha. Ha. Vinny is the only one who knows. Vincenzo with the knowing, unblinking digital eye. He knows you and loves the deepest you that Claire has never seen. But she will know you soon enough. They all will.
The fermentation station sits with myriad unblinking and unseeing eyes in the corner. You brought a gift today. Just for them. Your children. Uncapping the ramekin you spoon pure you, pure love, into the bags and cambros of ginger and egg and jerky and kimchi and sauerkraut, You give your life to the barely living and they gobble greedily for weeks at room temperature. They feast of you. Become you, but pure. You live through them just as they will live through the others. You will be in them. Chris, Gaby, Molly, little Kosmo, and even the bitch Claire. Claire. Her most of all because her trust opens her wider.
Who wants some scallops with gochujang?
It's.. Alive.
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Aug 2, 2020 04:32
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- frump truck
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hello... again!
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Put on skin-tight latex shorts, then shower. Do not get water and soap on your secret places. Leave them to marinate. Keep the shorts on though the rest of you is... acceptable. Always. Go mow the lawn. Build a shed. Help your brother move. All the while you're developing nuance in your giftwrapped latex funk cradle. After a week of heatwave toil, recline in the tub and cut off your latex prison with poultry shears. You're gross. You're so beautiful and cheesy and gross. The loathsome miasma makes you half swoon as your own byproduct rapes you through your lungs. Your left hand scoops a teaspoon of curdled nightmare from the space between thigh and ballsack. You place it delicately in a ramekin and cover it for transport. Black.
Light. You're at work. Shining sunlight on steel. Din of humans. Chris Morocco is tasting crab with a tiny spoon with his nose crinkled. Gaby flits between sinks, offering help. That snob Claire faux-emotes to the camera about difficulties in the reproduction of diamond-patterned wafers, as if you care. You smile anyway and adjust your beanie. Joke, as the little people do. Haha. Ha. Vinny is the only one who knows. Vincenzo with the knowing, unblinking digital eye. He knows you and loves the deepest you that Claire has never seen. But she will know you soon enough. They all will.
The fermentation station sits with myriad unblinking and unseeing eyes in the corner. You brought a gift today. Just for them. Your children. Uncapping the ramekin you spoon pure you, pure love, into the bags and cambros of ginger and egg and jerky and kimchi and sauerkraut, You give your life to the barely living and they gobble greedily for weeks at room temperature. They feast of you. Become you, but pure. You live through them just as they will live through the others. You will be in them. Chris, Gaby, Molly, little Kosmo, and even the bitch Claire. Claire. Her most of all because her trust opens her wider.
Who wants some scallops with gochujang?
It's.. Alive.
this was p. gross ngl
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Aug 2, 2020 04:51
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- Honky Mao
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Put on skin-tight latex shorts, then shower. Do not get water and soap on your secret places. Leave them to marinate. Keep the shorts on though the rest of you is... acceptable. Always. Go mow the lawn. Build a shed. Help your brother move. All the while you're developing nuance in your giftwrapped latex funk cradle. After a week of heatwave toil, recline in the tub and cut off your latex prison with poultry shears. You're gross. You're so beautiful and cheesy and gross. The loathsome miasma makes you half swoon as your own byproduct rapes you through your lungs. Your left hand scoops a teaspoon of curdled nightmare from the space between thigh and ballsack. You place it delicately in a ramekin and cover it for transport. Black.
Light. You're at work. Shining sunlight on steel. Din of humans. Chris Morocco is tasting crab with a tiny spoon with his nose crinkled. Gaby flits between sinks, offering help. That snob Claire faux-emotes to the camera about difficulties in the reproduction of diamond-patterned wafers, as if you care. You smile anyway and adjust your beanie. Joke, as the little people do. Haha. Ha. Vinny is the only one who knows. Vincenzo with the knowing, unblinking digital eye. He knows you and loves the deepest you that Claire has never seen. But she will know you soon enough. They all will.
The fermentation station sits with myriad unblinking and unseeing eyes in the corner. You brought a gift today. Just for them. Your children. Uncapping the ramekin you spoon pure you, pure love, into the bags and cambros of ginger and egg and jerky and kimchi and sauerkraut, You give your life to the barely living and they gobble greedily for weeks at room temperature. They feast of you. Become you, but pure. You live through them just as they will live through the others. You will be in them. Chris, Gaby, Molly, little Kosmo, and even the bitch Claire. Claire. Her most of all because her trust opens her wider.
Who wants some scallops with gochujang?
It's.. Alive.
im emailing YOUR BOSS
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Aug 2, 2020 19:52
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- Pissed Ape Sexist
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Matty Matheson, though,
I'm a freelance werewolf and live A)by my own rules and B)in an abandoned quarry
Pissed Ape Sexist fucked around with this message at 20:09 on Aug 2, 2020
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Aug 2, 2020 20:05
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- Pissed Ape Sexist
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I play this before every post and it gets me in the zone. I'm Jan Michael Vincent and we're goin downtown, friends
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Aug 3, 2020 00:38
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- Lil Swamp Booger Baby
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Jealous because I just won't ever know what that smell like. Mad cuz I'm kinda thinking it's unfair and that pisses me off.
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Aug 3, 2020 01:17
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- Areola Grande
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it's a free country u pervs
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Jealous because I just won't ever know what that smell like. Mad cuz I'm kinda thinking it's unfair and that pisses me off.
send me a self addressed stamped envelope and keep it on the DL
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Aug 3, 2020 01:36
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- Adbot
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ADBOT LOVES YOU
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#
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May 15, 2024 02:51
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