Lads
chief
good one chief
♥
Get me a job before I kill myself.
boss 
hired m8jord wrote:
Would you like fries with that?
♥
Mr B - Fuck they on about mate, Modules and what not, numbers with a : in the middle of them.
Fucks happening to bf2s, my own adopted internet Son says he wouldnt give me a wank, Dilbo and Pace wanking over gunships, and now all the normal ones are talking odd.
Thank god Im still normal eh?
Fucks happening to bf2s, my own adopted internet Son says he wouldnt give me a wank, Dilbo and Pace wanking over gunships, and now all the normal ones are talking odd.
Thank god Im still normal eh?
i think we fall nicely in the middle, wouldn't you say 27?1927 wrote:
Thank god Im still normal eh?
Middle o nowhere eh?burnzz wrote:
i think we fall nicely in the middle, wouldn't you say 27?1927 wrote:
Thank god Im still normal eh?
When do I start?Toilet Sex wrote:
hired m8jord wrote:
Would you like fries with that?
HAIL MCXA o/
M.O.A.B wrote:
Middle o nowhere eh?burnzz wrote:
i think we fall nicely in the middle, wouldn't you say 27?1927 wrote:
Thank god Im still normal eh?
burnzz wrote:
http://img85.imageshack.us/img85/5697/hmml.pngM.O.A.B wrote:
Middle o nowhere eh?burnzz wrote:
i think we fall nicely in the middle, wouldn't you say 27?
"Ah, you miserable creatures! You who think that you are so great! You who judge humanity to be so small! You who wish to reform everything! Why don't you reform yourselves? That task would be sufficient enough."
-Frederick Bastiat
-Frederick Bastiat
Too fucking right, stay close to me and we'll be fine. Dont worry about me saying what I just did, I aint trying to crack onto you.burnzz wrote:
i think we fall nicely in the middle, wouldn't you say 27?1927 wrote:
Thank god Im still normal eh?
come be my pa. ill pay you in drugs and alcoholjord wrote:
Get me a job before I kill myself.
I need sustanance.
I would but I can't afford a ticket over, so euthanasia it shall be.
I would but I can't afford a ticket over, so euthanasia it shall be.
FUCKIN' RAINBOWS m8JohnG@lt wrote:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OQSNhk5ICTI
I just ate some fried chicken. The breasts were juicy, and the buns were soft and warm. Afterwards, the division manager of Popeyes came up to my table and asked me how the meal was.I said I was satisfied, but the meal lacked a certain je ne sais quoi. He apologized profusely, and said he had something to show me that would make up for it. He lead me to the back of the popeyes, to a room soaked from floor to ceiling in blood. In the center of it was a live horse, chained by all four legs to the structural supports of the warehouse like room. As I watched, employees of the popeyes cut large sections from the horse, which was whinneying and screaming in horror, the remaining sections of its body covered with festering sores and a froth of sweat. The popeyes employees took the chunks of horseflesh and sliced them into pieces, then they rooted around through the bags of trash strewn around the room to find discarded chicken bones. They quickly tenderized the meat with sledgehammers and fed it into a machine which formed the horsemeat around the bones, then they breaded and deepfried it. I asked the division manager why he had led me back to this place, and he pointed at the steed's rump, the diseased asshole puckering rythmically with terror, squirting pus with each convulsion. {We're just about to use that section, would you like a crack at it first?} I quickly unzipped my pants and wasted no time jamming my erect penis into the stallion's defenseless anus. With each thrust, I donkey punched the horse in the back of the head, making it clench its ass even tighter. I came just as the horse died. I was delighted. Popeyes definitely went the extra mile to make me a satisfied customer.
What the fuck.ig wrote:
I just ate some fried chicken. The breasts were juicy, and the buns were soft and warm. Afterwards, the division manager of Popeyes came up to my table and asked me how the meal was.I said I was satisfied, but the meal lacked a certain je ne sais quoi. He apologized profusely, and said he had something to show me that would make up for it. He lead me to the back of the popeyes, to a room soaked from floor to ceiling in blood. In the center of it was a live horse, chained by all four legs to the structural supports of the warehouse like room. As I watched, employees of the popeyes cut large sections from the horse, which was whinneying and screaming in horror, the remaining sections of its body covered with festering sores and a froth of sweat. The popeyes employees took the chunks of horseflesh and sliced them into pieces, then they rooted around through the bags of trash strewn around the room to find discarded chicken bones. They quickly tenderized the meat with sledgehammers and fed it into a machine which formed the horsemeat around the bones, then they breaded and deepfried it. I asked the division manager why he had led me back to this place, and he pointed at the steed's rump, the diseased asshole puckering rythmically with terror, squirting pus with each convulsion. {We're just about to use that section, would you like a crack at it first?} I quickly unzipped my pants and wasted no time jamming my erect penis into the stallion's defenseless anus. With each thrust, I donkey punched the horse in the back of the head, making it clench its ass even tighter. I came just as the horse died. I was delighted. Popeyes definitely went the extra mile to make me a satisfied customer.
lmfao!ig wrote:
I just ate some fried chicken. The breasts were juicy, and the buns were soft and warm. Afterwards, the division manager of Popeyes came up to my table and asked me how the meal was.I said I was satisfied, but the meal lacked a certain je ne sais quoi. He apologized profusely, and said he had something to show me that would make up for it. He lead me to the back of the popeyes, to a room soaked from floor to ceiling in blood. In the center of it was a live horse, chained by all four legs to the structural supports of the warehouse like room. As I watched, employees of the popeyes cut large sections from the horse, which was whinneying and screaming in horror, the remaining sections of its body covered with festering sores and a froth of sweat. The popeyes employees took the chunks of horseflesh and sliced them into pieces, then they rooted around through the bags of trash strewn around the room to find discarded chicken bones. They quickly tenderized the meat with sledgehammers and fed it into a machine which formed the horsemeat around the bones, then they breaded and deepfried it. I asked the division manager why he had led me back to this place, and he pointed at the steed's rump, the diseased asshole puckering rythmically with terror, squirting pus with each convulsion. {We're just about to use that section, would you like a crack at it first?} I quickly unzipped my pants and wasted no time jamming my erect penis into the stallion's defenseless anus. With each thrust, I donkey punched the horse in the back of the head, making it clench its ass even tighter. I came just as the horse died. I was delighted. Popeyes definitely went the extra mile to make me a satisfied customer.
Finray wrote:
What the fuck.ig wrote:
I just ate some fried chicken. The breasts were juicy, and the buns were soft and warm. Afterwards, the division manager of Popeyes came up to my table and asked me how the meal was.I said I was satisfied, but the meal lacked a certain je ne sais quoi. He apologized profusely, and said he had something to show me that would make up for it. He lead me to the back of the popeyes, to a room soaked from floor to ceiling in blood. In the center of it was a live horse, chained by all four legs to the structural supports of the warehouse like room. As I watched, employees of the popeyes cut large sections from the horse, which was whinneying and screaming in horror, the remaining sections of its body covered with festering sores and a froth of sweat. The popeyes employees took the chunks of horseflesh and sliced them into pieces, then they rooted around through the bags of trash strewn around the room to find discarded chicken bones. They quickly tenderized the meat with sledgehammers and fed it into a machine which formed the horsemeat around the bones, then they breaded and deepfried it. I asked the division manager why he had led me back to this place, and he pointed at the steed's rump, the diseased asshole puckering rythmically with terror, squirting pus with each convulsion. {We're just about to use that section, would you like a crack at it first?} I quickly unzipped my pants and wasted no time jamming my erect penis into the stallion's defenseless anus. With each thrust, I donkey punched the horse in the back of the head, making it clench its ass even tighter. I came just as the horse died. I was delighted. Popeyes definitely went the extra mile to make me a satisfied customer.
ig wrote:
wat
LLooll
two plus two
Tu Stultus Es