Author: Bleow Mitz
Instead of using the bathroom I actually urinate one or two droplets in my pants every few minutes throughout the day. This relieves my bladder and the urine drops easily evaporate without a trace. I can focus on continuing work and chores. As for the other thing, I just don’t eat solid food and I wait until I get home.
You have entered BIZARRO TRS. This is The Daily Sabbath. EighthMoon and his co-host Hcone Ekim discuss the landing of GodEmperor Clinton’s fleet of cosmic ostrich shoes and prepare to enter cryosleep on the way to the Nickelback Realm.
You’You’re single Rhodes or you married your poodle.
As the horses of the Gen Z Death Squads finally pulled my limbs out of their sockets after days of torture for the crime of being 1% African on my 23andMe I was overcome with euphoria. “We have won” I whispered through the bloody chunks and hot coals in my mouth.
More like your mom’s BUZZED GASH.*
*last night and every night
National Socialists= Roman rune coons
American Nationalists = Roman Anglos
Southern Nationalists = Roman slave owners
Odinists = Roman slaves
Ethno-Nationalists= Roman separatists
Catholics = Roman Israelites
Orthos = Roman gyros
Prots = Roman barbarians
Eurasianists = Romans of the third kind
Castizo Futurists = Roman Aztecs
Fascists = Roman Romans
Libertarians = Roman (((merchants)))
Conservatives = Roman retards
A guest post by Cory Moores
Cold rain showers the city of the REEEEEEEEserves. Hail the size of gambling dice howl through the air, pelting windows and flesh like stinging insects. A pale dint of moonlight haunts the sky in its alabaster glow. Atop the tallest building in REEEEEEEEserves, the Onyx Obelisk, a fight for the ages reaches its climax.
Ignis [beaten, bloody, wearied but determined. Barechested, the determined youth is dressed in but dark slacks and snakeskin shoes, all stained with blood. He is surrounded by dozens of fatally beaten clowns and the original lineup of Panic! At the Disco members]: “Let her go.”
Spencer [Dons the adornments of the Ripper, jeweled cane in hand, vestments rippling with scarlet highlights]: “Ahhh, ever the strong, silent type. Curt in your feeble statements. I must say” *giggles*, “I’m impressed by your display. You’ve made a mess of Greg Johnson’s finest manslaves.” *claps his hands together*
Ignis: “Where is she? My nico nico nii.” *growls*
Spencer: “So singleminded! It’s almost cute~ Yes, yes, I have your mestizo whore in my possession. But I’m afraid the Dark Cabaret has groomed and broken her, as it will you, Ignis. You are fighting for a figment of your imagination, you pitiable soul. You shall join her, yet not as you imagine. You will become yet another broken shell as she is! To arms, my Turanic horde!” *dozens of muscled men of Turkic ethnogenesis seemingly leap out of nowhere and join the fray*
[Unidentified voices, in unison]: “Borthers never fight alone! AMREN!!” * Paul McCarthy, CJ Vandal and Bradshaw Wilson storm out of the roof access*
Spencer: *laughs delightedly* “Ahh, I see you have brought company. How utterly exhilarating! You’ve made this all so convenient for me, Sir ignis, allowing me the pleasure of striking all my rivals all at once. Let us be met in final conflict then, and you shall rue the taste of my cane!”
This is the future we are fighting for. 14 Words. #DoItForTheChildren.