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Pickpocket hot tip
twitchquotes:
Hot tip: When someone yells pickpocket start searching for your wallet in the groin area and exclaim 'Thank God my wallet is safely tucked between my testicles'. The pickpocket will see this and assume that the wallet is there. These people usually have very supple and delicate hands so when they try to take your wallet you will instead get a pleasant fondling to your genital area.
twitch chat
Classic
You are such a large pepperoni, why aren't you a pizza
twitchquotes:
"Kripp my son," say the Papparin, "you are such a large pepperoni, why aren't you a pizza." But the Kripp don't respond. He elopes to Greece and runs his hand through his unshaven face scruff and say "Well met!" to the twisted Succubus. Alone in his heart, Papparin commits sudoku at a Starbucks in San Bernardino with Al Pacino, no cappucino.
twitch chat
Kripp
I saw Kripp at the tavern yesterday
twitchquotes:
I saw Kripp at the tavern yesterday. I told him it would be cool to see him play arena again. He said, “Why, so you can snipe me at 8 wins?” I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but he kept cutting me off and going “huh? huh? huh?” and closing his hand shut in front of my face. I thought he was going for a brofist, so I extended my hand only to have it slapped away in disgust. Later on I saw him trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen murlocs in his hands without paying.
twitch chat
Kripp
Hearthstone
I'm gay for SpongeBob SquarePants
It's not gay with socks on
When I was 13 years old a buddy of mine tried to convince me to fool around. I wasn't into it, and he told me it's not gay if you're wearing socks. I didn't believe him, went home, and asked my dad.
That's 'gentleman's gay', hardly gay at all. Don't see it much these days.
The 50s were a different time. What were we to do? We were typical boarding school boys, rich with vigor, skin slick with drying sweat and gritty earth from a game of pigskin.
At night our young, virile bodies filled the dorm with sweet-musky vapors, like game-meat stewed with apple and peppercorn. You'd awake in darkness to the hushed, melodic rhythm of two pairs of white tube socks, barely visible in moonlight, bouncing on the hardwood floor.
The deep bond of male friendship played like a thousand different human instruments. The wet claps of skin on skin, the gentle thud of heads on backboards, frenzied cries in the throes of climax. Wilbur, so fat and soft like tapioca pudding. His breasts were so like the real thing, what we fantasized of our future wives. Unwilling, defenseless Wilbur, so slow and uncoordinated in the dark. 10 of us would glaze his bare, pink flesh like a giant raspberry danish. He once had the audacity to tell Headmaster Redford. But Redford was a Deerfield boy once, he understood. So he joined us on our midnight hog hunts.
Through college and years after we'd find time here and there, away from the wives at a family lake house. But it's been decades now - the times have certainly changed. If you wanted to do something private with another man, in your socks, it wasn’t ‘gay’. It was just two men, celebrating each other's strength.