Greetings. My name is Beef, and today I would like to present an exceedingly excellent "your mother" joke. I will now begin.
Your biological mother is so morbidly obese, when she went to go get her yearly physical done, the doctor took her blood and the results concluded that she had a high blood pressure, onset type 2 diabetes, hypertension and the possibility of heart disease. She also suffers from severe depression, because she lacks confidence in her physical appearance, which enables her to consume even more food, making her more obese. Not to mention, but your mother is becoming so monstrous, she had a hard time fitting through small spaces and exceeding weight limits on practical applications. Your mother has an endless cycle of malicious eating habits that only make her health worsen over time.
I hope whoever has just read this enjoyed the humorous "your mother" joke. Thank you for your time, and have a blessed day.
I used to be a real ad
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ME ORC ME SPAM
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ME ORC ME SPAM NO MOD NO BAN
ME ORC ME SPAM NO MOD NO BAN
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MODS
This chat is now in CUTE mode
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Weebs
Salt season pass
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Kripp, this is Don salteroni from Sodium enterprises, we would like to remind you to renew your season pass as soon as possible if you would like to continue receiving daily shipments of table salt, best regards Don salteroni. pls no 
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Kripp
tyler imo u are the best league of legends player
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tyler imo u are the best league of legends player in the history, you show skills and wits beyond anyone else who played the game, and is improving on a daily basis. you show great promise as long as you keep doing what you're doing right now. cheers
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Tyler1
League of Legends
It's not gay with socks on
When I was 13 years old a buddy of mine tried to convince me to fool around. I wasn't into it, and he told me it's not gay if you're wearing socks. I didn't believe him, went home, and asked my dad.
That's 'gentleman's gay', hardly gay at all. Don't see it much these days.
The 50s were a different time. What were we to do? We were typical boarding school boys, rich with vigor, skin slick with drying sweat and gritty earth from a game of pigskin.
At night our young, virile bodies filled the dorm with sweet-musky vapors, like game-meat stewed with apple and peppercorn. You'd awake in darkness to the hushed, melodic rhythm of two pairs of white tube socks, barely visible in moonlight, bouncing on the hardwood floor.
The deep bond of male friendship played like a thousand different human instruments. The wet claps of skin on skin, the gentle thud of heads on backboards, frenzied cries in the throes of climax. Wilbur, so fat and soft like tapioca pudding. His breasts were so like the real thing, what we fantasized of our future wives. Unwilling, defenseless Wilbur, so slow and uncoordinated in the dark. 10 of us would glaze his bare, pink flesh like a giant raspberry danish. He once had the audacity to tell Headmaster Redford. But Redford was a Deerfield boy once, he understood. So he joined us on our midnight hog hunts.
Through college and years after we'd find time here and there, away from the wives at a family lake house. But it's been decades now - the times have certainly changed. If you wanted to do something private with another man, in your socks, it wasnโt โgayโ. It was just two men, celebrating each other's strength.