Tin resins why ye canae move tae Sco'land.
Win - We dinnae want ye here
Tae - Yer nae hard enough
Threh - Ye wouldnae like the wither (and ye wouldne ken hoo tae describ it - dreich, drookit, haar, etc)
Fir - Yer a dafty who couldne git intae oor big skels and dinnae ken aboot the Sco'ish Enlightinment
Fiv - Yer a big girruls blouse and cannae keep up wi oor drinkin
Sex - Yed get snapped in hoff if ye played fitbaw wi us
sivvun - Ye coodnae handle the patter
It - Wae dinnae wint ye drivin up the hoos prices
Nin - Yer pribly a jobbyjabber who likes it it in the backsie
Tin - Oor wimmun boke at the sight of ye
If somehoo ye dae mit the abuv requirmints then ye can enter but ye must promis to vote fi SNP, the ONLY party that trilly represents Sco'land.
Fuck off hame any English cunts.
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some times i supper glue my thumbs
DansGame
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Troll face 3
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His name was Norman Reedus
I had this friend who used to brag to us all the time that he could catch his cum in his mouth without fail every time he masturbated. He actually wrote down how many times he successfully did it. 327. I’ll never forget that number. And every day at school, he would talk about this. It was always during lunch my sophomore year of high school, too..so it was extremely unnecessary. He used to always try to demonstrate his techniques with packets of mayonnaise but we’d always threaten to move tables so he’d stop. He was really one of those people who needed attention constantly. Aside from those times at lunch, he was a completely normal dude. Like…even after class we’d ask him about that stuff and be like “dude, what was with that cum stuff at lunch,” and he’d always look at us like we were crazy and say “what the hell are you talking about?” I’ll never forget that classmate. His great personality will always be remember but his perplexing obsession with catching his own ejaculate in his mouth will live on forever at my previous high school. He was a one of a kind guy. His name was Norman Reedus.
I finally did it. I out pizza'd the Hut
I finally did it. I out pizza'd the Hut. It was the greatest mistake of my life.
After years of perfecting my recipe, I made my way down to the local hut, fresh-baked pizza pie in hand. "Try this," I told the kid working the counter. He did, and he had to agree that it was better than anything Pizza Hut had to offer. Soon, the entire store, customers included, was feasting on my delicious pie. The manager walked over, grabbed a slice, and took a bite. I look at him, anticipation rising. This was the boss, the local fief lord of the Hut. His approval meant more to me than all the rest combined. He took a bite and nodded. "I'll be damned," he said, "you really did it. You out- pizza'd the Hut. Shame." Shame? What did he mean by tha-- the manager pulled a gun out from behind his apron and shot the nearest customer in the head. "We have a Code Jalapeño," he said into his wrist as he executed the remaining customers. "I repeat, we have a Code Jalapeño." The ground was slick with blood. The kid working the counter choked out his dying breath as the manager turned to me. "You just had to do it motherfucker. You just had to out pizza the Hut." He shoved the gun in my face. I was too scared to fight, too scared to run. The manager pulled the trigger.
A click. The gun was empty. I threw a chair at the manager and scrambled out of the Pizza Hut, not even bothering to see if my missile hit its mark. I was closely pursued by the manager, who had gotten his hands on a deadly sharp pizza cutter. I suspected in his hands it would cut more than pizza. Somehow, I was able to get into my car and speed off, the manager cursing my existence as I left him behind. I took a deep breath. The manager was clearly psychotic. Yes, that was it, just a crazy man with a gun. It had to be. My phone rang. Sister. I picked it. "They're dead, she sobbed. They're all dead. Mom, Dad, Chris, Bill. Dead. They killed them all." I could barely understand her, so great were her sobs. "What do you mean? Where are you?" I asked urgently. "How is this possi--" A single gunshot sounded through my phone's speakers. Silence. Then, I heard a man's voice. "No one out pizzas the Hut." He hung up. I drove down the empty country road, mind blank. I had nothing. They killed my family. I was alone.
At that moment I knew what I had to do. They took everything from me. Well then, I would take everything from them. Pizza Hut was so terrified of being out pizza'd, they forgot there's one thing worse than a man with a recipe: A man with nothing to lose. I'll give them a limited time offer they won't be able to refuse: two bullets for the price of one.
With a free side order of pain.