Sorry! Something wrong happened behind the scenes. Refresh and try again.
[Copypasta]Oh, these? My boobies?
Oh, these? My boobies? My massive fucking titties? My super stuffed milkies? My honker bonker doinky boinkies? My fucking fabric stretching wind flapping gravity welling sex mounds? You mean these super duper ultra hyper god damn motherfucking tits?
Oh, these? My boobies? My massive fucking titties? My super stuffed milkies? My honker bonker doinky boinkies? My fucking fabric stretching wind flapping gravity welling sex mounds? You mean these super duper ultra hyper god damn motherfucking tits?
Waiting for adblock to be disabled
More Copypastas
Jake has huge RipTires
twitchquotes:Jake has huge RipTires, he is one of the best players in OWL, when Jake isn't beating up people in Overwatch, he's beating people in real life so you better think before you say J K E. Peace out.
Jake has huge RipTires, he is one of the best players in OWL, when Jake isn't beating up people in Overwatch, he's beating people in real life so you better think before you say J LUL K E. Peace out.
Upside-dong
twitchquotes:( ͜o ͡ʖ ͜o) im upside-dong ( ͜o ͡ʖ ͜o)
twitchquotes:The time was 1:53 AM. This is the last game of my plat promos. The season will end in 7 minutes. We're down by bot turret with our team as we push our lead. I see Scott rolling in as Rammus, traveling at a speed that would put Sonic himself to shame. His words echo through my $5 earbuds. "I'M GOING IN!" I pause to take in the world around me. I can do anything right now. Physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual limits no longer apply to me. I gather the strength in my forefinger as I slowly lift it over my R key. I say...no, I yell, with the ferocity of a million suns, the single word that could be heard around the world. "Same!" Galio prepares himself before leaping into the air, and delivering a devastating blow to the enemies' backline. We did it. The enemy team retreats back into their low elo. I was platinum. With a farewell to Scott for his outstanding work, I drag myself to my bed, ready to fall asleep. My phone chimes. Checking the notifications, I saw only one. A text from Clown9 Sneaky. The message brought a tear to my eye. The message simply read: “I’m proud of you.” Now very emotional, I typed a reply. "Same."
The time was 1:53 AM. This is the last game of my plat promos. The season will end in 7 minutes. We're down by bot turret with our team as we push our lead. I see Scott rolling in as Rammus, traveling at a speed that would put Sonic himself to shame. His words echo through my $5 earbuds. "I'M GOING IN!" I pause to take in the world around me. I can do anything right now. Physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual limits no longer apply to me. I gather the strength in my forefinger as I slowly lift it over my R key. I say...no, I yell, with the ferocity of a million suns, the single word that could be heard around the world. "Same!" Galio prepares himself before leaping into the air, and delivering a devastating blow to the enemies' backline. We did it. The enemy team retreats back into their low elo. I was platinum. With a farewell to Scott for his outstanding work, I drag myself to my bed, ready to fall asleep. My phone chimes. Checking the notifications, I saw only one. A text from Clown9 Sneaky. The message brought a tear to my eye. The message simply read: “I’m proud of you.” Now very emotional, I typed a reply. "Same."
Did you hear about the Italian chef who died?
twitchquotes:Did you hear about the Italian chef who died? He pasta way. He just ran out of thyme. Here today, gone tomato. His wife is still upset, cheese still not over it. We never sausage a tragedy coming. Ashes to ashes, crust to crust. There’s just not mushroom for Italian chefs in today’s world. Want to know what the rough parts of Italy are called? The spaghetto. Don’t call yourself Italian if you weren’t baptized in marinara sauce. You are literally too stupid to insult.
Did you hear about the Italian chef who died? He pasta way. He just ran out of thyme. Here today, gone tomato. His wife is still upset, cheese still not over it. We never sausage a tragedy coming. Ashes to ashes, crust to crust. There’s just not mushroom for Italian chefs in today’s world. Want to know what the rough parts of Italy are called? The spaghetto. Don’t call yourself Italian if you weren’t baptized in marinara sauce. You are literally too stupid to insult.