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Masculinity is now illegal
As of this morning π, masculinity πͺππ is NO π«β LONGER π LEGAL πβ. If you π are masculine π΄, please ππββοΈ report π to your ππΌ nearest π Femboy ππββοΈ Education π Center π’β, clean-shaven and wearing πππ thigh-high socks π§¦. Those who fail π« to follow π£ these orders ππ WILL BE CANCELLED βπ·π‘.
As of this morning π, masculinity πͺππ is NO π«β LONGER π LEGAL πβ. If you π are masculine π΄, please ππββοΈ report π to your ππΌ nearest π Femboy ππββοΈ Education π Center π’β, clean-shaven and wearing πππ thigh-high socks π§¦. Those who fail π« to follow π£ these orders ππ WILL BE CANCELLED βπ·π‘.
Chuck Testa and Cattarian
twitchquotes:Hey Kripparian its me Chuck Testa. I'd personally like to Taxidermize your friend beast Cattarian. "Hey Kripp, it's me Cattarian and I approve of this method!" NOOOOPE it's just me Chuck Testa. Your cat would appreciate being worshiped and praised in the afterlife though. So, lets get that cats body and let me do my hobby.
Hey Kripparian its me Chuck Testa. I'd personally like to Taxidermize your friend beast Cattarian. "Hey Kripp, it's me Cattarian and I approve of this method!" NOOOOPE it's just me Chuck Testa. Your cat would appreciate being worshiped and praised in the afterlife though. So, lets get that cats body and let me do my hobby.
My parents used to watch cockfighting in the bedroom
My parents used to watch cockfighting in the bedroom when they thought we were asleep.
I'd hear my mother excitedly talking about how much she enjoyed cocks as they jumped around on the bed.
What surprised me though was, when we went to Spain she mentioned how cruel she thought bullfighting was. I never confronted her about the hypocrisy though.
My parents used to watch cockfighting in the bedroom when they thought we were asleep.
I'd hear my mother excitedly talking about how much she enjoyed cocks as they jumped around on the bed.
What surprised me though was, when we went to Spain she mentioned how cruel she thought bullfighting was. I never confronted her about the hypocrisy though.
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."