I have never once gotten dubs. I am a statistical anomaly. Long ago, I gave up on telling people to check em’ accepting I would never be blessed by repeating integers. But still, even serendipitously, I have never received a matching set of mathematical characters to accompany even the most mundane of my postings. And my love life has remained as singular as the solitary figure that will accompany this post, at the end of a long string of similarly singular numbers. Ships passing in the night, never to meet. Check it, I suppose.
I believe it. If you had a grill over, fired up a dank bread and made a real stinker of a shitpost (what we call a sloppy ploppy in my neck of the woods), and you got some wubbly fubs (what we call two numbers at the end of a post that don’t rise or fall in value), then she’d drop to her knees and slob your knob (what we call fellatio).
But if you got a big fat dingleberry, a real lone ranger (terms for singles, with me and the bois with whom I mingle - in a strictly platonic sense mind -), she’d probably call you a real frick of cuck of a buck, and give you the ol’ moonwalk (read; walking backwards, as in in reverse out of your life - i.e a breakup, ergo, concordantly: painful in the extreme, regardless of the size of your hide).
I reckon this’d happen even iffen you’da made the same sloppy ploppy. Hell, even if you’d effort posted. And that’s why me and the boys hate women.
Haha homosexual
your mom got dubs in college
she gave them to me
check em
Vote for Pedro and all the wildest trips will come true
check em
fricken idiot
How much you wanna bet I can throw a football over these digits?
Lost out again Uncle Rico
I have never once gotten dubs. I am a statistical anomaly. Long ago, I gave up on telling people to check em’ accepting I would never be blessed by repeating integers. But still, even serendipitously, I have never received a matching set of mathematical characters to accompany even the most mundane of my postings. And my love life has remained as singular as the solitary figure that will accompany this post, at the end of a long string of similarly singular numbers. Ships passing in the night, never to meet. Check it, I suppose.
If you were making this film today and being honest he would say:
>Girls only want boyfriends with BBC
This is what my girlfriend said just before breaking up with me for quoting this movie too much.
>bites into the crunchiest dubs you've ever heard
Check these dubs or your mother dies in her sleep tonight.
I hate this movie.
you don't have a soul. Not even memeing
Yes I do. Frick you.
It do be true doe.
I believe it. If you had a grill over, fired up a dank bread and made a real stinker of a shitpost (what we call a sloppy ploppy in my neck of the woods), and you got some wubbly fubs (what we call two numbers at the end of a post that don’t rise or fall in value), then she’d drop to her knees and slob your knob (what we call fellatio).
But if you got a big fat dingleberry, a real lone ranger (terms for singles, with me and the bois with whom I mingle - in a strictly platonic sense mind -), she’d probably call you a real frick of cuck of a buck, and give you the ol’ moonwalk (read; walking backwards, as in in reverse out of your life - i.e a breakup, ergo, concordantly: painful in the extreme, regardless of the size of your hide).
I reckon this’d happen even iffen you’da made the same sloppy ploppy. Hell, even if you’d effort posted. And that’s why me and the boys hate women.
Stopped reading right there.
That’s fair I deserved it.
sucks 4 you
>give me some of your (You)s, Napoleon
ultimo Black person
like me you mean?
CHECKEM
>This made boomers cry themselves laughing
Ally McBeal was a short lived sensation
check these, Black folk
frick jannies btw
Check em'.