It may be news to you buddy, but normies shittin' bricks atm.
Yo, what did I say about this discouragement shit?
What the fuck is shitting the bread mean? You mean posting something that irrelevance to your qCLUB 201: Advanced Digging for the Elite Underwearld?
I love that shit, ^, don't get me wrong, but like Q said, "These people are stupid."
Who better than those who may have a better strategy to deal with such stupidity, than those who mimic it on a day by day basis? No offense my autistic brethren, I love you with all of my heart and soul, but we are not theoretical physicists because we watched an episode of NOVA on pbs.
Not to mention, if Q has everything, than we are not here to stroke an alphabet letter's dick.
Q ←- see? Don't touch that.
We are not impressing a Q, we are informing Mom, Pop, Bro, Baby Sis, and cousins, your neighbor, habibi at the deli, the weird guy at the bus stop, that cute black girl in class, that old fart boomer who doesn't STFU about his medicare… Strong WOMEN!
That's who!
>Which one, Hoover or Corney?
I think he meant me guys… I like the way nylon and spandex feels on my oiled package, no wait, I meant to say, the way it leeches Bisphenol A metabolites that breakdown into freeform estrogen, basically making my softer and more entrained by my porn addiction. Why? My mind is happy, blank, and empty. Brainwashing is good for me-
Wait a minute! I get it!
Maybe us romantic types like the feeling of soft, satiny, lingerie, BECAUSE IT WAS DESIGNED FOR MEN TO STICK THEIR WINKY'S INTO, while STRONG WOMEN, hurried to take it off, while starting a family, or making it bigger.
I hate you TV, you ruined my home.
Qodfather, may I?
https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/pseudobulbar-affect/symptoms-causes/syc-20353737
Somethings Italy, got right.
This isn't one of those things.
Braciole… in your mouth.
Now I know why Tony & John are scared shitless, about sauce!
WE KNOW WHAT'S IN IT! And it's not this…
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Braciola
God bless me swordy! May God protect you and those who love you, this day and for all eternity.
I love you.
If God had multiple personality disorder, we'd be God's thoughts.
Sometimes, in my strange eAutist fantasies, I like to imagine POTUS being America's modern day equivalent of a founding father. So as a coping mechanism, for dealing with my Pops and I being, more distant than I'd like, I pretend that POTUS is sort of like my, step-dad, kinda. kek
But then I thought about it, and said, well if POTUS is dad, then FLOTUS is Mom. Well, you can't have a cool phrase like 'founding father' and not have something for Mom that's not of equal or greater value, so…
Founder Fathers:, I'd like to formally introduce you to America's most recent:
Making Mother(s): "We can make anything, when Mom is helping us make it." - Anon
—————–
It was only then I went even further into my introspective fantasy of imaginative coping, and thought of MOMTUS (Most Outstanding Makermom of the United States) chillin' with me, at like at like an arts & crafts table for AnonOps:4MiniAnons and I'm lurking the bread, slaying demons, while she cuts out, you know, Mom stuff, and I blurt out some heavy RE: that would make hair curl; only to be briskly interjected with, "Anon, you know that isn't that magical love quality, that raises the heart song frequencies, ya know?"
"But MOMTUS, they're being suck jer-"
"Ah, ah, ah, no no no, Anon."
–suddenly the red phone rings—
"Yes POTUS? Uh huh, uh huh… no, no."
–in the background you can sort of make out in a very strong and golden bold tone, "Let em do it."–
"POTUS, it's not nice, and that's the most important aspect of unity; relation."
–the red phone hangs up, right after you hear, what sounds like a kiss–
"Haha, I win."
Anon is like, "Grr, fine.", while smiling and thanking God that in his mind it feels like he has his family back.
Then someone kicks him in the back of the knee because he spaced out on the methadone line, and he's next.
"MOVE IT YOU NAZI JUNKIE! FUCKING LOSER! lol!"
A tear of joy, runs down anon's face, which he makes look like sweat because he's sick, and supposed to be; even though his fantasies of his American dream keep him walking forward.