*click click*
you have 10 seconds to not be boring and predictable Jow Forums
*click click*
b-based
Big money shoulder
this meme was made by boring and predictable gang
DO NOT DOWNLOAD ANYTHING
hey abe you homo man
Shoot me and ur mum will die from big gay tonite
kot
*BLAM*
correction: this thread was made by edgy 14 year old gang
You have 10 seconds to get your fat ass out of that golf cart without breaking it
Joeks on yu when ur mum gets the big gay and dies
nothing personell kiddo
>this thread was made by edgy 14 year old gang
Any sexy singles on this board ;) ? Here's my mail if you wanna have fun : [email protected]
shhh shhhhh it’ll be over soon
BORN TO IRONY
THE WORLD IS YOUR MOMS ASSHOLE
憂鬱dabonem 1990
I am the worst NEET
134,282,182,187 dead anons
Hell. I think my dysphoric fits are making me a pretty unique poster.
Your pic looks shooped
konichiwa minasan
it's me, miss hannah-minx!
You can't predict GUSTO
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mental illness is not unique
don't say you expected this on Jow Forums, if anything you expected it not to show up
jews
*does backflip and shits pants*
i never expected a backflip from american
Bepis
At least I remember to load my shotgun so it doesn't go *click* when I pull the trigger like you faggot
Why to the man of untutored ideality, who happens to be but loosely acquainted with the peculiar character of the day, does the bare mention of Whitsuntide marshal in the fancy such long, dreary, speechless processions of slow-pacing pilgrims, downcast and hooded with new-fallen snow? Or, to the unread, unsophisticated Protestant of the Middle American States, why does the passing mention of a White Friar or a White Nun, evoke such an eyeless statue in the soul?
Or what is there apart from the traditions of dungeoned warriors and kings (which will not wholly account for it) that makes the White Tower of London tell so much more strongly on the imagination of an untravelled American, than those other storied structures, its neighbors - the Byward Tower, or even the Bloody? And those sublimer towers, the White Mountains of New Hampshire, whence, in peculiar moods, comes that gigantic ghostliness over the soul at the bare mention of that name, while the thought of Virginia's Blue Ridge is full of a soft, dewy, distant dreaminess? Or why, irrespective of all latitudes and longitudes, does the name of the White Sea exert such a spectralness over the fancy, while that of the Yellow Sea lulls us with mortal thoughts of long lacquered mild afternoons on the waves, followed by the gaudiest and yet sleepiest of sunsets? Or, to choose a wholly unsubstantial instance, purely addressed to the fancy, why, in reading the old fairy tales of Central Europe, does "the tall pale man" of the Hartz forests, whose changeless pallor unrestingly glides through the green of the groves - why is this phantom more terrible than all the whooping imps of the Blocksburg?
H-hey guys... I like porn do you?
God damn it Amei.