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๐ โ๏ธ ๐ผ ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐พ๐๐ป๐๐๐ ๐๐๐, ๐๐ฝ๐๐๐ ๐พ๐ ๐๐ ๐ธ๐๐ธ๐ ๐๐๐ป๐.
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Doublelift's not even the best ADC on CLG
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Doublelift best ADC NA? Doublelift's not even the best ADC on CLG
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Holding hands with reynad
You will never be an anime girl
You will never be an anime girl. You have no ancestry, you have no weebship, you have no skills that would make neon Tokyo ever want you. You are a shut-in self-hating nerdy man twisted by delusions of mythical Katana superiority and exposure to media folded over 3000 times into a disgusting mockery of metalworkings perfection. All 'validation' you get from other people in this position couldn't be worse in making you believe that spending years of your life learning a the globally useless talents of Uwudo and Iya-giri to a ไธญไบ level was a worthwhile ไฝฟใๆน of ใๅ's time, but one can't expect that an individual as ็พ่ป as ใใก will ever know the value of the ไปฒ้ you threw away in doing that. Actual Sasukes are ใใใ ใญใขใ by you. Thousands of years of ่ช็ถ้ฒๅ have allowed ไพ to identify ๅฝ็ฉ่ช from mannerisms and ่จ่ชๅ alone. Even if your written text of self-hatred and attention begging akin to a ้่ฏ็ฌ somehow passes as normal (ใใชใใใใฉ้ฟๅ), any Soul Eater person will immediately ไธกๆญใall ่ฟทใใwhen they ่ใ the ๅฃฐ and ๅบๅณถ-ben of someone who is not only a basic ไธๅฟ at best, but worth no more than ใดใใซใน in skills, accomplishments, and no ใฏใคใ yes ใใฌใณใ. You will never be ๅนธใใใกใใๆฉ่ฝใ You wrench out a ๅฝ็ฌใ and ๏ฝ๏ฝ๏ฝ่ to yourself believing that watching a content creator that you understand 20% of at best is somehow superior than watching your own ่น้ท, as you project your disgusting traits onto your ๅงๅก้ท. However, deep inside you feel the ไธๅฎ creeping up like a ๆก, ready to crush you under the ใในใ2ไธไธใZzใใฌใณใใ , and you know that. You know that all you do now is have an entirely new ใชในใใผ in which to be ็ก่ฆ, and not even the exotic trait of beingใๆตทๅคใใใญ makes up for just how uninteresting of a ็ก่จ่ตคในใ you are. Eventually itโll be too much to bear - youโll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold ใฏใใกใใพ. Your ใใ will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearableใๆฅใใใ and ใดใใซในๆญปใญ. Theyโll bury you with a ๅฆๆช marked with your ้ ๅๅฑ้, and every ไธๅผฆใฎ้ฌผ for the rest of eternity will know a ้ป่น is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a ใฎใซใถใฌใณ that is ่ชใ้จๅนฝ้. This is your ้ๅฝ. This is what you chose. There is no turning back. ๆใ yourself and ่ฌใ for being ใชใขๅ
to some Virtual entity that exists only in your mind while actual people put in effort to learn English for the valid reason of it being the global language.
I orgasmed during an online zoom class
Fuck this is so embarrassing. I'm literally shaking so hard rn. So like the randy horny mf I am, I was jerking off and edging myself before one of my online classes. Then the class started so I joined. Our teacher's pretty strict and all and expects cameras on at all times. So I just sat there whilst everyone joined, still horny as hell. I had my dick pressed between my legs still. Teacher's going round asking us how the weekend went yada yada. So now it's my turn to speak. I unmute my mic to say my stuff and whilst I'm talking I squeeze my legs a little too hard and come hard as fuck causing to me to literally moan LIKE A FUCKING WHALE and make my horrid contorted orgasm face RIGHT ON FUCKING CAMERA WITH MY MIC UNMUTED WHILST THE ENTIRE CLASS OF 40 STUDENTS ARE WATCHING. LET'S NOT EVEN FORGET THAT MY FACE WAS FULL-SCREEN WHILST I WAS SPEAKING. In a total crazy panic, I leave the class.
I'm dropping that class asap. No, scratch that. Dropping out of college altogether. No way can I go back there again. Might as well drop off this earth while I'm at it.
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."