The myriad of idiosyncratic atrocities bestowed on this chat from these juvenile delinquents have caused a monstruous amount of turmoil and I cannot fathom this type of malignancy. These futile behaviors have abruptly penetrated the purity of my dear soul.
What happened to this ad? :(
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Hello my beautiful goddess Kripp
twitchquotes:
Hello my beautiful goddess Kripp. I saw your stream and figured I'd try writing you. You are astoundingly beautiful to me. It would be a pleasure and a privilege getting to know you. I'd love to find out if you are as beautiful inside as you are out. Hope to hear from you soon, sincerely *nazi mod*, your friendly neighborhood white knight.
twitch chat
Kripp
MODS
Coming out as morbsexual
War Thunder is like playing chess
It's not that the game is addicting, it's just that there are no decent alternatives.
War Thunder is basically the intellectual version of the FPS games that all the stupid children and mongoloid brains play. Instead of just being based purely on twitch "skills" which require as much intellectual ability as closing popup spam windows, in War Thunder you have to use at least some tactics and strategy. FPS games are like playing Pong on high speed. War Thunder is like playing chess.
The art of gaming is simply dead for big brains. 20 years ago there were tons of games that required brainpower because PC gaming back then was by nerds and for nerds, but then the corporate suits took over and were like "broaden the appeal to we can make more sales" so everything got dumbed down to the lowest common denominator.
My GF asked me if I was "having fun" playing War Thunder, and I looked at her like she was a fucking retard to even consider that sentence a valid question. I don't have FUN playing War Thunder. This game routinely pisses me off and makes me rage. However, when I stomp the entire enemy team and crush them so utterly I can hear the lamentations of their mothers, I feel satisfaction.
I spent weeks grinding for Operation Winter. The vikings had a word for this. They called it Valhalla. Endless war. Endless combat. Knowing only victory and death. Bathing in the blood of your enemies. You get 15 kills and bask in glory and rewards, and think: what should I do now? Should I get in my Honda Fit and tour the local strip mall for my Triumph? Should I microwave some tendies and throw myself a great Feast? But there is only one option. There is only ever one option. To Battle!
Various cultures have alternatively described the gameplay loop of War Thunder as their vision of Heaven or Hell. It is both.
what happens when you give t1 viagra?
twitchquotes:
what happens when you give t1 viagra? he grows taller
twitch chat
Tyler1
Infinite Cum
Infinite cum. You sit on the toilet to jack off, but you begin to cum uncontrollably. After ten spurts you start to worry. Your hand is sticky and it reeks of semen. You desperately shove your dick into a wad of toilet paper, but that only makes your balls hurt. The cum accelerates. It’s been three minutes. You can’t stop cumming. Your bathroom floor is covered in a thin layer of baby fluid. You try to cum into the shower drain but it builds up too fast. You try the toilet. The cum is too thick to be flushed. You lock the bathroom door to prevent the cum from escaping. The air grows hot and humid from the cum. The cum accelerates. You slip and fall in your own sperm. The cum is now six inches deep, almost as long as your still-erect semen hose. Sprawled on your back, you begin to cum all over the ceiling. Globs of the sticky white fluid begin to fall like raindrops, giving you a facial with your own cum. The cum accelerates. You struggle to stand as the force of the cum begins to propel you backwards as if you were on a bukkake themed slip-and-slide. Still on your knees, the cum is now at chin height. To avoid drowning you open the bathroom door. The deluge of man juice reminds you of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919, only with cum instead of molasses. The cum accelerates. It’s been two hours. Your children and wife scream in terror as their bodies are engulfed by the snow-white sludge. Your youngest child goes under, with viscous bubbles and muffled cries rising from the goop. You plead to God to end your suffering. The cum accelerates. You squeeze your dick to stop the cum, but it begins to leak out of your asshole instead. You let go. The force of the cum tears your urethra open, leaving only a gaping hole in your crotch that spews semen. Your body picks up speed as it slides backwards along the cum. You smash through the wall, hurtling into the sky at thirty miles an hour. From a bird’s eye view you see your house is completely white. Your neighbor calls the cops. The cum accelerates. As you continue to ascend, you spot police cars racing towards your house. The cops pull out their guns and take aim, but stray loads of cum hit them in the eyes, blinding them. The cum accelerates. You are now at an altitude of 1000 feet. The SWAT team arrives. Military helicopters circle you. Hundreds of bullets pierce your body at once, yet you stay conscious. Your testicles have now grown into a substitute brain. The cum accelerates. It has been two days. With your body now destroyed, the cum begins to spray in all directions. You break the sound barrier. The government deploys fighter jets to chase you down, but the impact of your cum sends one plane crashing to the ground. The government decides to let you leave the earth. You feel your gonads start to burn up as you reach the edges of the atmosphere. You narrowly miss the ISS, giving it a new white paint job as you fly past. Physicists struggle to calculate your erratic trajectory. The cum accelerates. The cum begins to gravitate towards itself, forming a comet trail of semen. Astronomers begin calling you the “Cummet.” You are stuck in space forever, stripped of your body and senses, forced to endure an eternity of cumshots. Eventually, you stop thinking.