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  • This is no safe-space, snowflake.
This is no safe-space, snowflake.
 #113656  by victorfrankl
 Mon Apr 16, 2018 8:34 am
Sometimes when I'm in the shower i like do a thing i call Terminator. I kneel down in the running water and slowly standup while thinking of Arnie or that other guy from T2 all while humming the Terminator theme. Sometime the shower curtain touches my leg and ruins the fantasy.
 #113659  by joecaca
 Mon Apr 16, 2018 8:48 am
I sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the oilfields dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. People say to me that a person being a helicopter is Impossible and I’m fucking retarded but I don’t care, I’m beautiful. I’m having a plastic surgeon install rotary blades, 30 mm cannons and AMG-114 Hellfire missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me “Apache” and respect my right to kill from above and kill needlessly. If you can’t accept me you’re a heliphobe and need to check your vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.
pirate, Tim_Kerr, Kumacho liked this
 #113667  by Tim_Kerr
 Mon Apr 16, 2018 11:43 am
Back in the day, you walked up hill both ways, and no one bitched and moaned about "privilege." And if you wanted a dildo, you didn't just go down to The Pleasure Hut or whatever. Sex stores off the highway? Are you MAD!?!?!! Back in the day, you had to go into the forest, and find a big ol' hunk of wood. And you took that hunk of wood back to your house, and you hid that hunk of wood from your parents. And when your dad was at work, and your mom was at book club, you snuck into your dad's woodshop and you carved that piece of wood. you started with the table saw, and rounded off the edges with the belt sander. If needed, you would have to bust out the dremel. And you carved that dildo. And it took time. You damn kids, you don't know anything about blood sweat and tears. And once you carved that wooden penis, you needed to make sure to SAND THE SHIT OUT OF IT. No one wants a splinter in their woo-ha. Have you ever sat there, for 10 hours, sanding a wooden dildo, in your dads woodshop, that you weren't supposed to be in, while your dad was at work, and your mom at book club? I DON'T THINK SO. And then after you sanded that wooden penis into a smooth, useable object, you had to lacquer it, and possibly apply a coat of varnish safe for insertion. Nowadays you damn kids and your purple dildos. You just go to Bob's Crank Shaft and walk out with 14 purple dildos. And you're talking about the privilege and the boppity and the bloopity and the beep and the boop. When I met my wife, I didn't just go down to Tom's Rubber Tackle Shack and walk out with one of them magic vibrato things. No sir! I cut that out and sanded it down, in my woodshop. Damn kids.
joecaca liked this
 #113669  by doonrothmani
 Mon Apr 16, 2018 12:13 pm
Tim_Kerr wrote:
Mon Apr 16, 2018 11:43 am
Back in the day, you walked up hill both ways, and no one bitched and moaned about "privilege." And if you wanted a dildo, you didn't just go down to The Pleasure Hut or whatever. Sex stores off the highway? Are you MAD!?!?!! Back in the day, you had to go into the forest, and find a big ol' hunk of wood. And you took that hunk of wood back to your house, and you hid that hunk of wood from your parents. And when your dad was at work, and your mom was at book club, you snuck into your dad's woodshop and you carved that piece of wood. you started with the table saw, and rounded off the edges with the belt sander. If needed, you would have to bust out the dremel. And you carved that dildo. And it took time. You damn kids, you don't know anything about blood sweat and tears. And once you carved that wooden penis, you needed to make sure to SAND THE SHIT OUT OF IT. No one wants a splinter in their woo-ha. Have you ever sat there, for 10 hours, sanding a wooden dildo, in your dads woodshop, that you weren't supposed to be in, while your dad was at work, and your mom at book club? I DON'T THINK SO. And then after you sanded that wooden penis into a smooth, useable object, you had to lacquer it, and possibly apply a coat of varnish safe for insertion. Nowadays you damn kids and your purple dildos. You just go to Bob's Crank Shaft and walk out with 14 purple dildos. And you're talking about the privilege and the boppity and the bloopity and the beep and the boop. When I met my wife, I didn't just go down to Tom's Rubber Tackle Shack and walk out with one of them magic vibrato things. No sir! I cut that out and sanded it down, in my woodshop. Damn kids.
is this like chapter 2 page 7 of your memoirs? Because I know you are not making this story up.
 #113672  by Kumacho
 Mon Apr 16, 2018 12:36 pm
doonrothmani wrote:
Mon Apr 16, 2018 12:13 pm
Tim_Kerr wrote:
Mon Apr 16, 2018 11:43 am
Back in the day, you walked up hill both ways, and no one bitched and moaned about "privilege." And if you wanted a dildo, you didn't just go down to The Pleasure Hut or whatever. Sex stores off the highway? Are you MAD!?!?!! Back in the day, you had to go into the forest, and find a big ol' hunk of wood. And you took that hunk of wood back to your house, and you hid that hunk of wood from your parents. And when your dad was at work, and your mom was at book club, you snuck into your dad's woodshop and you carved that piece of wood. you started with the table saw, and rounded off the edges with the belt sander. If needed, you would have to bust out the dremel. And you carved that dildo. And it took time. You damn kids, you don't know anything about blood sweat and tears. And once you carved that wooden penis, you needed to make sure to SAND THE SHIT OUT OF IT. No one wants a splinter in their woo-ha. Have you ever sat there, for 10 hours, sanding a wooden dildo, in your dads woodshop, that you weren't supposed to be in, while your dad was at work, and your mom at book club? I DON'T THINK SO. And then after you sanded that wooden penis into a smooth, useable object, you had to lacquer it, and possibly apply a coat of varnish safe for insertion. Nowadays you damn kids and your purple dildos. You just go to Bob's Crank Shaft and walk out with 14 purple dildos. And you're talking about the privilege and the boppity and the bloopity and the beep and the boop. When I met my wife, I didn't just go down to Tom's Rubber Tackle Shack and walk out with one of them magic vibrato things. No sir! I cut that out and sanded it down, in my woodshop. Damn kids.
is this like chapter 2 page 7 of your memoirs? Because I know you are not making this story up.
You're new to the interwebz, aren't you?