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View Poll Results: Whar | |||
luls and |
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5 | 17.86% |
TWO |
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3 | 10.71% |
im gay |
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13 | 46.43% |
bush banged my towers |
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13 | 46.43% |
Multiple Choice Poll. Voters: 28. You may not vote on this poll |
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#11
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![]() One of my easier faps
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#13
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![]() me show u lower GuK sumTieM
MayB hAV haVe GuD DRU ride! 👍 | ||
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#15
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![]() I think when my e2 levels get high enough I can't understand this spectrum gibberish anymore. This happened back in 2012, too. It's kinda nice.
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#17
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![]() Lord PotUS Magnum Donald J Trump, SUPREME COMMANDER of the Greater Eorzean Middle Earth Alliance dropped from Marine One amidst a gaggle of sniveling librul media press people and waddled up the steps of the ancient Ishgardian city of HELM's DEEP. He held a piece of Kentucky's finest in his right hand and a stack of personally penned shitposts in the wrong hand, ready to tweet at a moment's notice. His over-burdened cod piece drug wearily between his legs.
A bent and broken creature skittered from the darkness as Lord PotUS ascended into THE DEEP. FREDDO! The thing hissed and spit and shat itself in protest of Donald's free association with the *racist* nations of Rohan, Gridania and England. Don flicked is shortening slicked thumb and tweeted his enemy's ruin upon the mountain side. | ||
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#18
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![]() HELM'S DEEP was a doddering structure nestled in the asscrack of the Southern Cascade Range. The High Lord Provocateur, Jacob Reese-Mogg could almost see it now, groveling at the foot of Mount Rainier.
"We're almost there, kupo" he spake unto the Lady Melissandre. Melissandre s mature bosom pressed rebelliously against here bodice, it's silk structure tested by her weight and the tiny Moggpaw anchor points from which she hung. The breeze was DELIGHTFUL Mogg glowered at The Deep. It was a seat of Ancient Power, but like so many great things, it had fallen to unseemly ends. Corruption, thought Mogg unto himmoggself. Nigh on two-score and ten years, these lands had suffered wave after wave of progressive migrants, fleeing the oppressive regimes of the Unite Communist Municipalities and Unincorporated Territories of Silicon Valley and Pyongyang. He spat Moggspittle in disgust. "We'd best make haste, my dear Lord Mogg," implored Mellissandre from below. Stewing in the righteous fury of his enlarged Moggheart, the High Lord Provocateur had forgotten whomst he carried. "It would seem it's beginning to rain and I left my lolly at No. 9" she lamented with a lick of her lips. "Cheerio, my dear! We'll make the Deep soon enough," he replied, cheerfully. | ||
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#19
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![]() Pocahontas, Senator of the Abysmally Named State of Massachusetts dismounted and squared her square man-shoulders. The Sioux war party sighed a collective sigh of relief. They were old and fat and unfashionably clad in medium-quality garments. At long last, they had arrived.
Adjusting his bolo tie, Chief Shitting Ass shuffled out of the way as Pocahontas made her way to the back of the procession. The chief smiled. He rather liked the tie and it was a good deal too. He had acquired it many moons ago in exchange for a DELUXXE FAMILY PACK, one bottle of untaxed liquor and assorted tobacco products. He took a sip of diet soda and returned it to the drink holder on Catching Wynn's saddle. He was too old to bareback. Pocahontas returned. She trudged proudly toward the establishment with a red refurbished sleigh and small malformed creature in tow. Wampum trickled from where it had been heaped atop the sleigh, a great gift from the late Colonel Sandahs Clause. The little creature was like lightning as he dashed retardedly about affectionately scooping up the bits of undocumented currency. Pocahontas stopped and looked up at the Chik-Fil-A before them. | ||
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