Can we keep the sexual posts to a fucking minimum guys? My parents stumbled on this sub the other day and now I'm not even allowed to access Reddit anymore because of the sex talk they saw in here. This is not a peepee, poopoo and vajayjay fun house. We are not heathens whose only role in life is to fornicate and laugh about fornication and then ejaculate that nonsense, spurting and spewing this so called "humor" on each other like animals. This is a place of worship. Meme worship. God is not pleased with you all. Repent.
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
rraaiissee yyoouurr ddoonnggeerrss
twitchquotes:
ヽヽ༼༼ຈຈل͜ل͜ຈຈ༽༽ﾉﾉ rraaiissee yyoouurr ddoonnggeerrss ヽヽ༼༼ຈຈل͜ل͜ຈຈ༽༽ﾉﾉ
twitch chat
Kripp
Honestly, that's what Icall a cool story bro
twitchquotes:
Honestly, that's what Icall a cool story bro. Such a riveting tale, I honestly copy andpasted itto word, saved on my hard drive, backed it up on a jump drive, drove to the bank, put the jump drive in the safe deposit box, and will leave it there until my kids turn about 12 (when they can actually state their age, and ask what it is I'm showing them), when I will pick it up, put it in an old USB drive reader and relay this cool story to them and tell them, "kids, this is what a cool story should look and sound like...not like the stories your generation tells
twitch chat
Reynad
Identify as an FIM-92 Stinger anti-aircraft missile
twitchquotes:
I sexually identify as an FIM-92 Stinger anti-aircraft missile. My sole erotic fantasy is to explode inside an attack helicopter with such force that their physical vessel is utterly consumed by the intensity of my fiery passion.
twitch chat
I sexually Identify as
FACEBOOK OUTDAITED
twitchquotes:
FACEBOOK OUTDATED PRIVACY OVERRATED LONG HAVE WE AWAITED NSA ACTIVATED
FACEBOOK OUTDATED PRIVACY OVERRATED LONG HAVE WE AWAITED NSA ACTIVATED
twitch chat
Stonks only go up. But you don't.
You watch her as she brushes her hair. She’s humming a song you can’t quite hear and smiling to herself. Not for the first time, you wonder why this person chose you.
She turns. “What do you want for Christmas?” You want to scream Save your money!, but you only shrug. “Nothing, really.”
“Nothing?” She crawls into bed and touches your leg. “Are you sure?” Again, you wonder why this person chose you.
As she takes the weight of you in her hand, your mind wanders. To your puts. They’ll expire worthless, like you. After several minutes of failing to conjure your manhood, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
Stonks only go up.
But you don’t.