twitchquotes:Eeeyoo I had the most amazing sex with this girl last night. It was so good I came in 15 seconds and as I turned to look at her out of embarrassment, she put her lips to my ear and whispered "at least you lasted longer than NA at worlds"
Eeeyoo I had the most amazing sex with this girl last night. It was so good I came in 15 seconds and as I turned to look at her out of embarrassment, she put her lips to my ear and whispered "at least you lasted longer than NA at worlds" 4Head
I awoke from my coma and muted the stream
twitchquotes:I owe my life to [insert streamer]. I got in a horrible car crash and i was in 6 month coma. The nurse walked in and changed the Twitch channel to [insert streamer]'s stream. I awoke from my coma and muted [insert streamer].
I owe my life to [insert streamer]. I got in a horrible car crash and i was in 6 month coma. The nurse walked in and changed the Twitch channel to [insert streamer]'s stream. I awoke from my coma and muted [insert streamer].
You have been visited by the KOMODO OF GOOD FORTUNE
twitchquotes: xD LeL xD LeL xD IF YOU SEE THIS WHILE SCROLLING you have been visited by the KOMODO OF GOOD FORTUNE. You will be blessed but only if you copy and paste this 3 times xD LeL xD LeL xD
OSkomodo xD OSkomodo LeL OSkomodo xD OSkomodo LeL OSkomodo xD OSkomodo IF YOU SEE THIS WHILE SCROLLING you have been visited by the KOMODO OF GOOD FORTUNE. You will be blessed but only if you copy and paste this 3 times OSkomodo xD OSkomodo LeL OSkomodo xD OSkomodo LeL OSkomodo xD OSkomodo
Bumper Ameng burger
twitchquotes:Bumper stared at the burger in his hand. Normally, he loved chowing down on his Big Mac like he chowed on these beta tanks like Swon or Muma or Super. But not today. Today, this burger was a sign of his failure. The double patties of meat reminded him not of succulent juicy beef but only the mighty veiny vascular muscles of Ameng. The seeded bread buns? It was Ameng’s cheeks as he squatted on Bumper’s face. The tomato? It was his blood dripping off Ameng’s hammer. The mayo? You know what it is
Bumper stared at the burger in his hand. Normally, he loved chowing down on his Big Mac like he chowed on these beta tanks like Swon or Muma or Super. But not today. Today, this burger was a sign of his failure. The double patties of meat reminded him not of succulent juicy beef but only the mighty veiny vascular muscles of Ameng. The seeded bread buns? It was Ameng’s cheeks as he squatted on Bumper’s face. The tomato? It was his blood dripping off Ameng’s hammer. The mayo? You know what it is
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."