legowelt
Onno Kurou, aka bitchthrifter, accompanies one of his lady friends down the driving lane to his new shiny NSX Type R Hondo…
Girl: “What are your plans for tonight?”
Mr.Kurou: “Bring the car back to Hokkaido…”
Girlfriend: “Why? I really like this car…”
Mr.Kurou: “Tetsuya’s gotta fix it…”
Japanese Girlfriend With Huge Tits: “Ohhh…but what do we do in Hokkaido tonight?”
Mr.Kurou: “We’re gonna rock hard…on some videogame techno…”
My Japanese Girlfriend With Huge Tits I Desire You So Much I Want To Go Back I Think Of You Every Single Day You Are So Beautiful And Funny: “Oh….you shrewd little glamour boy!”

To be continued…

bitchtits
I’m only surmising but I’ve come to think that women’s deodorant might be laced with hormones. I haven’t left my house in over three weeks and I’ve been out of deodorant for even an even longer period of time, so I’ve been borrowing my mother’s ever since. I don’t enjoy showering or water in general insofar that I have to touch it with my body other than for consumption which has led me to a modus operandi of masking my natural scent with deodorant. Funnily enough, it’s also the reason why I’ve ran out and have now resorted to using my mother’s basement stockpile. I would prefer to not return to men’s deodorant, the flowery scent of women’s is greatly more tolerable when applied to one’s full body. However, it has appeared to me that my pecs have been getting bigger ever since. This could be attributed to the fact that I do over 300 pushups per day inbetween my programming sessions for automating tasks that I will most likely carry out only once in my life, but I think this line of thought is somewhat contrived because of my naturally lithe figure, see also pics. Could this be an effect of the deodorant? Replies are greatly appreciated.

slagz_mathz
Excerpt from Ostentation & Desperate Love Vol. 3:

“Got with a sixteen year-old girl in my early twenties, easiest way to select and fuck a supple bitch with questionable self-respect. It’s the age where they still haven’t diven down into a state of total lechery, given that you find the average, impressionable girl. What I mean is the not-so-coy yet a little shy in her expression type, the type that fits in with the general clique yet has one or more specific interests or hobbies she devotes her time to, before that too fades away with age. Girls like that take genuine interest in you once you’ve gotten ahold of them, so it’s best to keep up appearances. Helped her with her maths homework. Tried to impress her a little with my knowledge. Told her to use the squeeze theorem -and that’s when I groped her breasts. Told her to use l’Hôpital’s rule -and that’s when I smashed in her temples.”

wither_down()
“When I got home, they’d ask me about the conflict, “Hey Ghast, why do you keep doing it man? Haven’t you gotten enough experience?” And that’s what they don’t understand. It’s what they don’t understand, that once you’re 30 chunks deep in Mike Charlie and they’re enderpearling in gung ho steves who couldn’t give a flying fuck if the creeps on their 9 turn the block FUBAR in mere moments, you’ve got an ate-up jarhead breathing down your ass’ tailpipe on a November Golf minetrack while you’re trying to get UHF on the line for a sitrep on testificate, there aren’t any tables to book the damn exp on since it’s all been MIA for the last 200k ticks and could very well be with Jody too if you take QM’s word for it. Even if we were filled with exp up to farlands at o dark thirty, we still couldn’t use it - which is why I walked with a smile on my skin and didn’t say a goddamn word.”

driftking
Hey, that bit about beating you up, that’s just my own silly imagination, I like to wrestle and it’s fun to imagine a girl who actually stands a chance. But just like how I could imagine that act of wrestling, I could also imagine taking you to the ice skating track I visit from time to time, usually with friends. I think it’s still open. It’s very nice, I think it’s about 200m. Though I’m not a particularly skilled skater, I really enjoy casually making laps and talking about whatever’s on my mind. For example: the Fast Furious films. Those films are actually killer. Huge franchise that makes little sense in writing and probably even less so in execution, but it’s great. The fourth film decided to shift the narrative from street racers getting involved in grand theft auto to high-profile underworld crew partaking in highly extravagant and illegal activities. Aside from Vin Diesel having a hilarious character and Paul Walker being unable to act genuinely angry, there isn’t much of interest to specifically address other than the fact that the films are self-aware.

What however is interesting, is the glorious setup that appeared in the end scene of FF6 to set a precedent for FF7, that referenced what happened in Tokyo Drift. To summarise, a crew member from FF4 to FF6, who was originally introduced in TD - which is undoubtedly the wackiest FF film of the lot and could nearly be considered a spin-off - acted as the mentor of TD’s main character, but then got killed in a mysterious accident at the end of the film, which left the main character by himself. Tokyo Drift is unrelated to any of the other FF films aside from this crew member. At the end of FF6, we actually get to see this crew member die in the very same accident whilst also revealing its true nature, which sets as stated before the precedent for the seventh film. This took nine years. They took TD’s weirdest plot shift and fixed it nine years later. Amazing. Anyway, once we’re done ice skating and talking about Vin Diesel, I take you home. I even take the effort to pretty much walk you to your doorstep, to which you remark “Haha I don’t have to be walked here” to which I reply, “Walkdhur? Walker, did you just say Paul Walker?” and I burst into rage and beat you up.

me
Black leather trenchcoat, ironic logo t-shirt from a webstore that sells anything from death metal shit to 2008 meme-material, slim fit jeans but toned legs, no holes nor bitch shit, snapcaster in my pocket in case situation turns awry, backpack, T420 loaded up with custom art, i3wm brogrammer auspicion, worn-out geox from dad, two rings: pinky finger and thumb, one One Ring, one Lordaeron crest ring, give a fuck for getting them caught on the steering wheel, bottle of carbonated water made from the machine tap estrogen galore bitch, no skin off my back hair off my feet sport socks ubiquitous public transport train runner, hacker t1ny sh4dez ego like identity matrix sunglasses, Japanese numeral terrorist watch, pencil case with three left-handed pairs of scissors and a magenta copic marker, cinema 3D glasses from a year ago in jacket pocket when last seen friends, psychedelic boxer briefs with various jungle patterns on them and a seething hatred of the stochastic destiny

tenshi_no_tamag
After watching Tenshi no Tamago (I’m a gnostic theist by the way but that aside), I realised that many of its motives can be represented as an allegory for circumstances in my own life. You see, I’ve always felt distant towards the world, feeling like its eventual death or my own one are empty and meaningless. Yet while I am here, I’m wandering within a sea of people that do not understand me, that do not care for me. The film’s marine animal symbolism and theme of Noah’s ark cover this almost perfectly, it’s practically imagery from my mind, which is weird, because I didn’t remember loaning my cranium to some Japanese people (ha ha!) With that being said, I really do identify myself with the white-haired, mysterious protagonist, who presents himself to the little girl by riding along on a column of countless churning machinery. It’s a beautiful scene, I must have watched it over a dozen times already. This is what brings me to the focal point of my deconstruction: her. She’s spotless, glittering yet plain, absolutely breathtaking. I would do anything for her, if she let me. This girl directly represents the only woman I’ve ever felt true love for. When she first entered middle school I was already a senior. And just like my hero, I persuaded her. This is probably where some of you will speak of thematic incongruence in my story. That word is one of my neologisms, for those that are interested. The clash lies in the fact that while the male protagonist intended to break the girl’s egg to face the consequences it would have for the world, I merely acted out of a burst of romantic feelings. Feelings that got me registered as a sex offender. Anyway, it’s a really good film, you should all watch it.

airhead
Actually, I have managed to inject my erectile tissue with helium before. I’ve devised two different ways of carrying out the procedure, each with its own experimental setup. Both make use of a pressure difference between the tissue - and subsequently its blood vessels - and the space surrounding it. The first setup is akin to a typical pressure chamber; the air around the penis has helium gas added to it, whilst being in a confined area. Obviously, just securing one’s penis inside this box-like contraption wouldn’t do much with the sole addition of helium, or any other gas to begin with: it’s imperative to perforate the tissue first, no deeper than the surface layer. I recommend sustaining the procedure for about two hours, at a reasonably low pressure of 2 bar. The second method is much more somatic: instead of pressurising the air around one’s penis, one instead secures the urethra opening, after having placed a tube inside it; with this method, one needs much fewer supplies and preparation. Glue suffices. One point of interest however is that the urethra too requires some ‘breathable’ surface, this can be tended to with simple equipment, a paperclip is a suitable option. Other than that, the remainder of the setup is equivalent to the first one. I have experimented both methods on myself and - while I can’t speak of it’s true effectiveness- I can say that I felt much more lighter afterwards.

mysteries_of_the_erudite
I always wanted to know the tricks the dastardly old coot had up his sleeve, seemed to be the stuff of legends if you asked me. Followed him into the usual alley, codger frequents a damn cigar shop, but hey, you’re alone and retired, what else to do with your money than to drink and smoke it away on expensive rubbish. He must have gotten wind of my interests, because as soon as he caught a glimpse of my face, he bolted. I didn’t intend to, of course, but I sometimes phase out momentarily. Been like that ever since I played that last one. Horrible stuff, but the breast-laden fanservice proved to be too much for my mind to methodically take apart. This man however has endured, and with it many other games as well. I suppose I’m too well known at gatherings now, that even a closeted veteran like him would recognise me. Pathetic. I lost his tracks that day too. Did manage to persuade some of his retinue though to give me an address. Waited for hours on end, managed to finally catch him by surprise after he entered through the front door. I praised the sly bastard for his magnificent collection, which obviously wasn’t my reason for talking to him. I then continued: “Truly fascinating, how you seem to have played everything. Therefore, it must not come as a shock that I wish to ask you this: is G Sanjou No Maou a promising VN that has been blinded by its own infantile and perverse motives, which prevent any grittiness of the story to be beyond amateurish?” “Is this a loaded question,” he replied, to which I responded “In more ways than you can think of, professor,” as I tore away my sakura-patterned kimono to reveal a contraption of nambu pistols placed in parallel.

commencement
My strength is unparalleled. I literally have a fist that is beyond god, beyond reason. If you poured gasoline on me and set me aflame, nothing would happen to me. The gasoline will be consumed, and I will be standing, unharmed, yet the fire is still burning. This is the fire that truly symbolises the power that I hold. I will destroy you and tear you through this universe into another one and so on until the very concept of time is but a mere transient moment in the process of your suffering. How dare you insult her, you’re unworthy to have her as a girlfriend.

epoque
Frankly, I’m not like the others. Insofar they are flowing along with the stream of life, I’m the one who faces it head on. I got blasted with a water cannon at a protest once. Did I believe what futile cause they supported - I most certainly did not. Cretins and proletarian wastrels, flatter and enamour them, grist of the mill. I’d like to refer to the word ‘epoque’. It’s a French term which in modern usage denotes a period in which events of historical significance took place. I disagree. Epoque is made aware in those who bear its procession. Historical events are experienced, codified in a sphere of mind, yet when we speak of epoque as how it’s commonly known, it is merely identified in a grid of mechanistic contrivances. I MAKE epoque. How bare you lay upon me when you do my bidding.

girlfriend_trials
If you wish to walk my path you will have to pass and survive three trials.

Trial number one: You will undergo sensory deprivation for five hours. When these five hours are over, you will be notified through siren, yet since you have been deprived of your senses, there is no way for you to figure out. That’s right, you will need to escape. You should be able to realise that your right arm isn’t fixed properly, thus allowing you to break free with that arm. You should also be able to remove the veil which has been placed over your eyes. On the table where your right arm rests, a New Nintendo 3DS XL is placed proudly, it is my personal console; please don’t break the New Nintendo 3DS XL. When you turn on the New Nintendo 3DS XL, you will be greeted by a custom vaporwave loadscreen. Whether you gasp in awe at this or not is your own choice, I don’t think it will affect further scoring. Anyway, your task is to fire up Nintendogs and make my puppies respond to your voice. I bet you will soon find out that this is an impossible task. Oh, but what was that? The five hours are over and the siren is clamoring across the premises. The puppies responded! Ahahaha, I made them so that they would respond to the siren, aren’t I silly, off to the next trial you go.

Trial number two: for this trial I want you to relax, take a deep breath. Your clothes are on the chair positioned across the table. Black pleated skirt, white blouse with a faint flowery motif, a beige woolen jumper if you’re cold but I sincerely doubt that. Keep the jumper anyway if you like it, it’s my gift to you. Exit the room, step out into the foyer and tell me where you are; this is the heartfelt & emotional part of the trial. I am laying on my back on the grand piano nearby, take a seat on the stool. I implore you to take a seat. Did you tell me where you are yet? Do you know? No? Guess you failed this trial then - ahahaha, I’m merely kidding, I’m such a tease. Hey, by the way, you get fourty seconds to run back to the room and get my FUCKING New Nintendo 3DS XL to me, you filthy slut, I want to check on my Nintendogs NOW.

Trial number three, the final trial: I jump up from the piano, ever elegant, and give the signal. KRRRR, BOOOM. A cage is lowered and dropped around us. The final trial, the final frontier, rock hard, solid, visceral, bilateral, unyielding & with a severly pugnacious aura filled combat. If you wish, if you so desire to be my girlfriend I want you to be able to withstand me mano-a-girlfriendo. Honestly, that would be unfair, I’ve been twirling karambits around my fingers whilst juggling hook swords and my gi has its arm sleeves ripped off. My fiery chaos blazes like a titan. So I’m going to give you an unique opportunity: if you can resist a mere single blow, I will love you forever and ever and you will receive everything from me that I can provide. This is where the punch line hits - ahaha, get it? I know this little technique that I like to call ‘insidious parasite’. It’s a palm strike I have derived from extensive training in wing chun for what must have been over two decades. As soon as it hits your chest, the reverberating shock will set off an eigenfrequency which causes your skin to scald, your blood to boil and your bones to grind to dust. It is an absolute death sentence, no way to live through it, I’m just that strong - unless? Unless you have something which would dampen the blow, rendering it useless. All that springs to mind is an ample bosom, yes, decidedly so. The only way you will live through the final trial is if you have huge tits. I Need My Girlfriend To Have Huge Tits No Matter What.

ageplay_reddit
I’m That Pussy Bitch Prince Lich Lord And Frankly, I’m Just Going To Obliterate You

Let’s talk fantasy. Doesn’t matter what you had in mind, it’s fantasy. You’re just yourself, idealised version of yourself perhaps. Me? I’m The Gaunt Overture of The Will To Power & Portend of The Effulgent End; a lich more powerful than the likes of you could ever imagine. I’m really, really old, so old in fact that it makes little difference whether you’re a cute little loli bitch or a possibly voluptuous regular bitch. I’M A LICH, BABY. You walk into my sanctum and I appear before you in my monstrous, skeletal but strangely organic form, solid, rigid and tight as fuck. My spiked armour glistens with lymph. And here is where you die: underneath my breastplate I have situated my previous forced girlfriend oh I love her so much but her lifeless body provides me with no more respite from the inane thoughts that plague my mind therefore I cast corpse explosion on her, causing said breastplate to shoot off from my statuesque figure straight into your body. You’re dead now, you’ve been impaled thoroughly. Right through your supple breasts too, that’s called marksmanship, baby. And here is where you live: My incredibly ancient lich form marches toward your now likewise lifeless body and after cupping your adorable cheeks, I violently pull my breastplate off your corpse. Finally, I make use of my necromantic powers, causing your body to convulse as you scream out in the pain that was imprinted upon you when I killed you mere moments ago. Hey cutie welcome back. Before you can utter a word which isn’t solely composed of shrill shrieks, I burn every inch of clothing off your body and twirl you around, getting a good look at you. Ahahahaha, no, that absolutely will not do. Look, you’re very attractive, very alluring, you can tell me all about your interests and pursuits later, okay? Before we get to that, I have to fleshshape you up a tiny bit. What is fleshshaping, you ask? It’s an unambiguous term, it’s the technique in which I sear your bones to dust and use your flesh as a catalyst to recreate your likeness in the form of a homunculus, which obviously allows me to incite some changes, such as making your spirit swear fealty to me, increasing your resilience for the sake of not having to completely revive you after I beat you up a little, perhaps shifting your bodily features whenever I feel like it, the usual ideas. Now that we have you all lovely and bound to me, you can take a peek at the wardrobes in Section C1 of the sanctum, lots of clothes for you to pick and wear as you see fit. Wow, you’ve returned so soon, excellent. And here is where you get fucked: I transform myself from my terrifying lich form into my breathtakingly handsome human form, which also shows a couple of bony segments and magic runes as a lazy reminder that I’m still a lich. Look, I’m not a human, okay? I’m a lich which means I’m really old, incomparably old to you. I throw you onto the enchanted bed and plow you into submission, which, considering you were already obedient to me, is incredibly submissive. How precious and weak you are, my young, feeble girl.

untitled
anyway so i walk into uni wearing my white aphex twin t-shirt that i got at field day i spent all my money getting there yeah i got the vinyl too you can buy me lunch if you want to know more, winking at girls, kissing my lordaeron crest ring, that reminds me of the taste of blood just like that very same aphex twin t-shirt has bloodsplatter all over it, it happened whilst working on pneumatic firearms in my backyard, yeah babe i study mechanical engineering buy me some ratchet gearz and maybe i’ll invite you over to buy me lunch

prince_beautiful
Prince Beautiful enters the stage. The crowd puts their hands together in composed rhythm. When the clapping has subsided, he takes off his suit jacket and throws it towards the audience. Faint mumurs of unease can be heard. He takes a permanent marker and draws a crude shape resembling a crescent moon on his shirt. A few members of the crowd let out snickers and faint laughter. He calls fourteen-year-old Elise from the audience to the stage. The crowd is equally confused as amused. He walks up to her, grabs her by the back of her head and pulls out a letter opener from his right back pocket, stabbing her in the abdomen. Her cries of anguish are overshadowed by the roaring of the crowd. He cups her cheeks and forcibly makes out with her, after which he slams her quivering body against the stage, kicking her behind the curtain. The crowd’s excitement can no longer keep them contained to their seats. Two weeks pass. Prince Beautiful pulls back the curtain, revealing her abandoned corpse. The theatre is dead silent.

untitled
Yeah So Basically What I’ve Done For The Last Fifteen Years Is Progressively Expand On Warping The Amen Break As Much As Possible And I’ve Reached The Stage Where I’m Just Creating Inductor Hum

untitled
google.com my loli girlfriend takes a picture of herself every day for 10 years except 5 years in it’s a different girl

untitled
myself am waiting for the 1.14 firmware update which allows online crossplay with people from the past playing the respective games on their original consoles

untitled
and thats when i take a leave off my job, spend a lot of money on a private investigator, track her down and chart my route to visit her, 8 years from now. i will be leaning against a brick wall, my muscles so turgid you wouldn’t even believe it was me from back then. bubblegum blowing, doing knife tricks whilst slicing an apple, i tilt my head 60 degrees to the left and eye her thouroughly as she exits her workplace building. “hey, from back then, still recognise me? remember me??” and she will look at me puzzled for a moment before ignoring me and going on her way again like I was some kind of common street rat trying to get a rise out of her

untitled
Personally I’ve been living in a constant state of agony and terror since 2015 because yeah my internet girlfriend could get a real boyfriend any second now
these days I just try to introduce conversational topics with her in the hopes that we can we have fun like we used to, but she just gives me occasional, short replies that seem like they’re only sent to make me refrain from asking why she ignores me
Yeah I create elaborate setups of jokes in my head, trying to be as funny as possible in a multitude of situations…..
guess I’m just waiting for that laughing emoji
aren’t we all huh
She’s like a 6 at best by the way but I remember how she used to laugh at my jokes so much and because I’m deprived of attention and am too insecure to approach women in real life I just fall in love with any girl that is nice to me