Anonymous ID: f4d5f2 Jan. 31, 2025, 9:19 p.m. No.22482395   🗄️.is 🔗kun   >>2422

>>22482371

>IT'S NOT ABOUT RACE FUCKTARD

you're EXACTLY correct

"jew" is NOT a race

no matter how hard you try to make everyone believe it is

so that you will be able to play the "rayciss" card

but we all know "jew" is a RELIGION, not a race

more accurately, a PSYCHOPATHIC POLITICAL AGENDA masquerading as a religion

so it's (((YOU))) who will be burning in Hell for all eternity

SOON™

Anonymous ID: f4d5f2 Jan. 31, 2025, 10:39 p.m. No.22482779   🗄️.is 🔗kun   >>2826 >>2943

>>22482666

ebil digits for the father of lies

no one back then knew what diamagnetic or paramagnetic were

the wore precious metal and jewels to show off their wealth

napoleon had aluminum plates and utensils in his palace bcs in his day aluminum had just been discovered and was MORE expensive than gold or silver

grow a biran, maron

Anonymous ID: f4d5f2 Jan. 31, 2025, 10:50 p.m. No.22482835   🗄️.is 🔗kun

>>22482819

>let's feed the homeless this Christmas season

if you feed this Christmas season to the homeless

there won't be any Christmas season for the rest of us

Anonymous ID: f4d5f2 Jan. 31, 2025, 11:05 p.m. No.22482881   🗄️.is 🔗kun

>>22482870

O wad some Power the giftie gie us

To see oursels as ithers see us!

It wad frae mony a blunder free us,

An' foolish notion:

What airs in dress an' gait wad lea'e us,

An' ev'n devotion!

Anonymous ID: f4d5f2 Jan. 31, 2025, 11:09 p.m. No.22482898   🗄️.is 🔗kun   >>2906

>>22482864

Ha! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie?

Your impudence protects you sairly;

I canna say but ye strunt rarely,

Owre gauze and lace;

Tho', faith! I fear ye dine but sparely

On sic a place.

 

Ye ugly, creepin, blastit wonner,

Detested, shunn'd by saunt an' sinner,

How daur ye set your fit upon her -

Sae fine a lady?

Gae somewhere else and seek your dinner

On some poor body.

 

Swith! in some beggar's haffet squattle;

There ye may creep, and sprawl, and sprattle,

Wi' ither kindred, jumping cattle,

In shoals and nations;

Whaur horn nor bane ne'er daur unsettle

Your thick plantations.

 

Now haud you there, ye're out o' sight,

Below the fatt'rels, snug and tight;

Na, faith ye yet! ye'll no be right,

Till ye've got on it -

The verra tapmost, tow'rin height

O' Miss' bonnet.