[Copypasta] Wife wants to leave me because of an NFT diamond ring

My wife loves new technology and is into cryptocurrency and so I thought it would be thoughtful to buy her a diamond ring as a NFT. I spent about 3 ETH which is like $12000 CAD. So when she got home from work I told her I had a surprise for her. I put a blindfold on my wife and guided her into our room where our computer is set up. Soon as she opened her eyes and saw what it was, she absolutely exploded with rage saying I was an asshole and was only thinking about myself. She then accused me of spending money on stupid thing and said she’s going to go find a boyfriend. I don’t know what to do in this situation. I was only thinking about HER interests and how happy she would be to receive this new technology. Plus the price of her ring will only appreciate. Stupid real diamonds only depreciate. We have now signed up for NFT relationship counselling. I have been seeking relationship advice but everyone says to buy her NFT flowers or NFT chocolates. And when I did that, that was the last straw. Wife sent me divorce papers and I converted it into NFT. I know in the long run when all these NFT’s moon. She will come crawling back.
February 2022
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zachary is no more. there is only cock

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Jeff Bezos could give every person 1 BILLION dollars

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Hello Moonman or whatever your name is

twitchquotes: Hello Moonman or whatever your name is, I just wanted to tell you to please stop ruining my chat experience with these "smugs" and "smegs" and what not. Honestly, I find them absolutely infuriating to see in every chatroom I stumble upon. Fuck that dumb purple lady.
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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.
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She sells sea shells on the sea shore

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April 2021
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