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I've been unvaccinated for 9 months now, moving from place to place, keeping ahead of the vaxmaxers, never staying anywhere too long, never letting my face become known. "It's great being vaxmaxed isn't it" the shopkeep says vacantly, to nobody in particular. In keeping with the act I reply to the Heinz Baked Beans Substitute 6 Pack (No Plastic) in my hand, something unrelated, with what I hope is a slightly bemused tone. It takes a lot longer to do my shopping these days, I can't simply march through the shop in an orderly fashion, taking what I need in a single trip, I have to absent mindedly shuffle back and forward between the aisles, never really displaying any intent. As unpresent as they are, the vaxmaxed would notice if I was too focused, too alert. A loud smashing sound in the distance almost blows my cover, I notice, and focus on the sound. The vaxmaxed around me slowly aim their distant gaze on me, but I'm able to save myself, I continue my neck jerk and turn it in to a series of spasms, I drop to the floor convulsing, the vaxmaxed around me quickly lose interest and continue on with their day. "That means it's working" one elderly lady comments to her milk as she passes. I continue the charade long enough to filter out most of the vaxmaxed sharing the aisle. It takes a while, and no insubstantial amount of sweat on my part, but I make it to the checkout. A morbidly obese woman directs the horde at the tills, seemingly oblivious to the cacophony of aberrant scan noises and blinking red lights above the entirely self service super checkout. I wait dutifully, not wanting to be noticed, not wanting to be set upon by the Asda Security Vax Checker team, it had taken all my best bluffing to get past them at the door, I almost chuckled when they believed my vax card was in the post but it was quickly stifled, a chuckled would have given me away, a chuckle would have seen me held down and injected with science juice.

Back when I (68M) was a young and dumb twenty-something, I spent a few carefree years in Southern California raping, torturing, and murdering hitchhikers. I don't want any judgement from SJWs about this, please, if you didn't live in Cali in the 1970s, you wouldn't understand. It was just what we did back in those days. Eventually I grew up, got married, had three beautiful kids, and was content to just get off to my trophies and polaroids, and maybe kill the occasional drifter on special occasions. The other day, my wife (37F) found the hidden panel in my basement wall where I keep all the old memories, and she went ballistic. I tried to calm her down, explained that, firstly, they were all dudes, so she shouldn't exactly be getting jealous. Second, they're all dead, so it's not like she's going to have to worry about me leaving her for any of them. Third, there were like three or four other guys doing the same thing around then, and they took the credit for most of my kills. I was very careful, covered my tracks, rarely finished inside them. I don't know why she's got her knickers in such a twist. Quite frankly, I'm feeling really hurt about the whole thing. We've been together for nearly thirty years, and she's thinking about leaving me over something like this? Maybe I should have been more honest, but I was raised to see this as men's business, not something you involve your old lady in. Am I the asshole?

I'm shaking. I'm fucking shaking. I never wanted to breed with anyone more than I want to with Nolan Grayson. That perfect, shredded body. The perfectly trimmed mustache. The planet conquering skills of a literal god. It honestly fucking hurts knowing that I'll never mate with him, have him pass his genes through me, and have me birth a set of perfect offspring. I'd do fucking ANYTHING for the chance for Nolan Grayson to get me pregnant. A N Y T H I N G. And the fact that I can't is quite honestly too much to fucking bear. Why would Robert Kirkman create something so perfect? To fucking tantalize us? Fucking laugh in our faces?! Honestly, I just fucking can't anymore. Fuck.

I keep putting more money into ARKG and making more money and I'm starting to actually fall in love with the genetics revolution. I hope one day they invent some sort of super sperm cocktail so I can shoot thicc rope with giant big brain sperm like tadpoles that come out and shoot 16 feet at 90mph. Then I can train my fatheaded genius kids how to buy calls. It could also offer a self-defense solution in a pinch as you rapid fire tadpoles at any incoming attackers. Genetics is the future.

Hi, memers of Reddit!! I (M9) would like to know if downdooting is morally correct. I know, I know, downdooting is okay if someone roasts King Elon (A fellow redditor!) or Lord Keanu. It is not wholesome, and deserves to be downvoted to H-E-Double hockey sticks. However, if I see a post that I simply do not agree with or do not like, is downdooting morally right? Thank you memers of reddit, have a breathtaking day!

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.

Alvin from "Alvin and the Chipmunks" is not a chipmunk. This is proven by the name "Alvin and the Chipmunks", as you can see, Alvin is separated from the chipmunks, suggesting that Alvin is an entirely different species, making him an "imposter" amongst the others. Also, in "The Chipettes", Brittney has the strongest resemblance to Alvin, so why is it not called "Brittney and the Chipettes". So all that proves that Alvin is not a chipmunk. Not to mention that Alvin wears red, and I'm not sure about you, but that seems awfully sus to me. In the video game "Among us", the color red is was the birth of the obnoxious catchphrase, "red sus", being that the color red in the game is a stereotype that they are the imposter. While that might be unrelated, keep in mind that Alvin wears red too, and he is also the imposter amongst the other chipmunks. So this proves that Alvin is not a chipmunk, or anything like that. Alvin is just a sussy amogus imposter.

In this video, I have to beat Minecraft while my friend is torturing my cock and balls. He has a humbler, a stretcher and can actively kick them at any time he wishes. Can I beat the Ender Dragon before my testicles are ruptured? Watch to find out. Also, according to Youtube statistics, only a small percentage of people who watch my videos are actually subscribed, so if you end up liking this video, consider subscribing. It's free and you can always unsubscribe. Enjoy the video.

If two virgins fuck and take each other's virginity, shouldn't they still have one each? Because, think about it... The definition of take is to capture and receive something, like, if little Bob got 10 dollars and I rudely took it from him, he'd most likely cry, but I'd also gain 10 dollars since I took 10 dollars from him, no? Shouldn't it be the same with virginity, but hopefully, just without the crying? You take a virginty and lose one in the process, so it should be plus-minus zero, I should still have one virginty left? So if I only fuck virgins, will I be a virgin forever? And can I have multiple virginities if I take from other virgins?