Criminal is escape gulag in Siberia. Enter hut that isn’t belonging to. Find peasant couple. Tie to stool. After tie peasant woman, he climb top, kiss neck. Go to shithole.
While criminal in shithole, peasant man say, This man escape gulag. Is probably capitalist. Is lusting of woman like other capitalist. I saw he kiss neck of the you. If he is desirous of scandalous act, resist not. Be surrender like fascists in Stalingrad. Is probably danger. If is angry, murder all. Have strength, be product. Is love!
Peasant woman respond, he not is kissing neck. Is whispering in ear. He say is liking to stick schalinski in holes of men. Think you look good. Ask if we are having any lard. I told, is in shithole. Have strength, bee product. Is love too!
Criminal never return. Starved at shithole due to lack of potato. Fifteen years is long time to be without potato. Peasant couple couldn’t build communism due to being tied to stool. People’s Army Patrol rescue them. Is great happiness! Then sent to gulag due to failure to build communism. Carcass of criminal also sent back to gulag, made to work. Is no mercy for traitors of the motherland.
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Doublelift's not even the best ADC on CLG
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Doublelift best ADC NA? Doublelift's not even the best ADC on CLG
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Net Neutrality
Ben Shapiro ordering pizza
Hello, is this Pizza Hut?
Excellent. My name is Ben Shapiro. Conservative thought leader. Prominent white YouTuber. The Muggsy Bogues of the intellectual dark Web. And—look, it’s just a fact—I would like to order some pizza pie. If you are triggered by that request, I do not care. I truly do not.
Now let’s discuss conditions. First, thank you for agreeing to debate me. Typically, in fora such as this, I am met with ad-hominem mudslinging, anything from “You racist creep” or “Is that your real voice?” to raucous schoolyard laughter and threats of the dreaded “toilet swirly.” However, your willingness to engage with me over the phone on the subject of pizza shows an intellectual fortitude and openness to dangerous ideas which reflects highly on your character. Huzzah, good sir. Huzzah.
Second, any pizza I order will be male. None of this “Our pizza identifies as trans-fluid-pan-poly”—no. Pizza is a boy. With a penis. It’s that simple. It’s been true for all of human history, from Plato to Socrates to Mr. Mistoffelees, and any attempt to rewrite the pillars of Western thought will be met with a hearty “Fuh!” by yours truly. And, trust me, that is not a fate you wish to meet.
Now. With regard to my topping preference. I have eaten from your pizzeria in times past, and it must be said: your pepperoni is embarrassingly spicy. Frankly, it boggles the mind. I mean, what kind of drugs are you inhaling over there? Pot?! One bite of that stuff and I had to take a shower. So tread lightly when it comes to spice, my good man. You do not want to see me at my most epic. Like the great white hero of Zack Snyder’s classic film “300,” I will kick you.
Onions, peppers—no, thank you. If I wanted veggies, I’d go to a salad bar. I’m not some sort of vegan, Cory Booker weirdo. And your efforts to Michelle Obama-ize the great American pizza pie are, frankly, hilarious. Though not as funny as the impressively named P’Zone—when I finally figured out that genuinely creative pun, I laughed until I cried and peed. A true Spartan admits defeat, and I must admit that, in this instance, your Hut humor slayed me, Dennis Miller style.
And, with that, you have earned my order. Congratulations. Ahem. Without further ado, I would like your smallest child pizza, no sauce, extra cheese. Hello? Aha. A hang-up. Another triggered lib, bested by logic. Damn it. I’m fucking starving.
Ben Shapiro
Response to a your mom joke
I do not care what you say about my mother. Your opinion is your opinion. But trust me, if you actually attempt to do something to my mother, even though she's made some bad decisions in the past that we still need to work through, I will personally call the police on you and I'll be laughing as your mugshot is shown on TV. You don't even know her, do you? The point of your entire existence seems to be to just tease other people. Well, I believe your jokes are in bad taste, and you should cease and desist digging through the dregs left at the bottom of the joke barrel; you could get a splinter, whose pain will be significantly increased by the significantly high amount of salt you carry in your bloodstream. Thank you, and let us cease talking about each other's parents.
Red was not An Impostor
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. 。 • ﾟ 。 . . . 。 。 . . 。 ඞ 。 . • . Red was not An Imposter. . . 2 Impostor remains 。 . 。 ﾟ . . , . . .
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