FeelsBadMan Only a true failure can fail to build a pyramid FeelsBadMan FeelsBadMan May as well not even bother FeelsBadMan FeelsBadMan FeelsBadMan And Still my pyramid sucks
(βΜΏΔΉΜ―ββ¬β΄β¬β΄ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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I'm done with this chat
twitchquotes:That's it, I'm done. *** this chat. It's devolved into a mass of retarded copy pastes and face spam. The quality of twitch chat has been declining for a while, but this is the last straw. That's it. I'm done. I'm uninstalling the internet, chopping off my dick and moving to *** Antarctica, at least the bacteria there will be *** smarter discourse.
That's it, I'm done. *** this chat. It's devolved into a mass of retarded copy pastes and face spam. The quality of twitch chat has been declining for a while, but this is the last straw. That's it. I'm done. I'm uninstalling the internet, chopping off my dick and moving to *** Antarctica, at least the bacteria there will be *** smarter discourse.
twitchquotes:After his loss, Zven stays up deep into the night. As the rest of TSM sleeps, he opens up a new window to check his PayPal. A smile stretches across his face
After his loss, Zven stays up deep into the night. As the rest of TSM sleeps, he opens up a new window to check his PayPal. A smile stretches across his face
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."