It is actual Muppets canon that Kermit the Frog, in some way, had a role in bringing down the Twin Towers in the terror attacks of September 11, 2001. In "It's a Very Muppets Christmas Movie," a film released in late 2002, Kermit is shown a glimpse of what New York City might look like if he had never been born. Among the scenery of this alternate reality NYC, we find none other than the Twin Towers proudly standing in the background. They were, of course, long destroyed in Kermit's normal reality. And yet, in the world without Kermit, the war on terror is missing its powder keg spark. Who would've thought that green piece of fuck could kermit a terror attack on US soil, but there it stands unimpeachable... We have concrete, canon proof of involvement. Why the world hasn't stopped and asked further questions is only further proof of a media cabal keeping this conversation away from the masses. The Twin Towers would still be standing if it weren't for Kermit the Frog. Al Qaeda was the puppet this time, and Kermit the hand within.
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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.
Hello Kripp, Cattarian here
Hello Kripp, Cattarian here. Since I'm dead, my new family bought me sunglasses and propped me up like in that movie Weekend At Bernie's. How you doing in Canadaland? Playing Grindstone? Been lucky? Not dead like me? Say hello to Rania from me. wow this chat is so immature
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wow this chat is so immature, i can't even imagine how you are able to live in real life. Spamming nonsense 24/7. real viewers trying to learn from the game can't focus on the players and their decisions. please stop
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