Do british people actually exist? I mean, they must be a meme, there is a not a single thing about them. And I mean it. Let's go through the evidence: Where are they from? Not a single country in the world is named Britain. Some people say they come from England, and England is inside Britain, but if that was the case they would be British they would be Englanders. Also, heard some silly theories about them coming from whales. Guys, no, whale people do not exist. Whales live in the sea. There is a consensus on British people coming from Europe, but then we are left with a whole continent of possible locations. That's as good as nothing. What do they eat? Every country has at least one main dish. Even the US has their burgers. But these British people, what do they eat? Heard some people associating them with tea, but everyone knows that's an Asian thing. Shouldn't they come from Europe? One of these two points must be wrong them. To me, it looks too sketchy. What language do they speak? I challenge you, putting all my money and my ass on the line here, to find a supposed ""British"" person speaking their native language. Most of then just speak a broken ENGLISH. Yes, english. Really suspicious, huh? And I even tried to look deeper into it. Maybe british just SOUND like english, just like spanish could sound like portuguese for a non-speaker. So I looked up "british dictionary on google" and what I found was shocking: every word in there was AMERICAN. I kid you not. What this could mean is beyond my capabilities, but I can safely assure you that british people do not exist .

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal. [beep] A single lap should be completed each time you hear this sound. [ding] Remember to run in a straight line, and run as long as possible. The second time you fail to complete a lap before the sound, your test is over. The test will begin on the word start. On your mark, get ready, start.

Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink. "Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave. Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette. "Got a spare?" she asks. "What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles. "Conversation with me, duh." I laugh. "What's so funny?" she protests. "Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?" "You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter. "What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask. "Teaching, I think." "And if I was your student, what would I be learning?" "Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?" "Bermuda," I say. "Oh wow. That's lovely." "It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking." "What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires. "I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."

So as a joke, I went to my friend's house wearing a trollface mask and black morph suit. I could barely stop my laughter as he went as red as your mother (after I have sexual intercourse with her) and looked at me from head to toe with a bit of drool in his mouth. The way he stared made me feel a bit funny too, but I decided to tease him more by taking off my morph suit. He asked me, "Are you serious?" and I said "Cover yourself in oil." He went silent for what seemed like forever, so I asked him, "You mad bro?" He said he's confused, but then his boner got really hard, which made me take off his clothes. I expected him to scream, "Stop!" as I kissed him and stroked his cock, but he instead shouted "We do a little trolling!" which made me get a boner myself. Before I knew it, I was blowing him for the first time till he came. His semen was so thick, it got stuck inside my throat no matter how hard I swallowed. He then said, "I want to fuck you now!" and seeing that we've already gone that far and we were both naked, I obliged. A few hours later, the jerk went all pale and said to me "Why did we do that? Now I'm not fucking straight." But he still looked so cute all confused like that, so I took pity on him and reassured while wiping his cum off my face, "Let's just pretend I'm still Trollface."