Talk to Transformer - shockingly accurate neural network text predicting thingy

[dredd]

Boris Johnson has revealed "contingency plans" were made for his penis to "come out of his arse" if a Tory Government elected in 2015 was not given any further funding.

Johnson – who reportedly funded his regular prostate check-ups with foreign cash – was quizzed on his apparent embarrassingly minimal spending by BuzzFeed News.

The Greater London Authority's director of finance said: "There's contingency plans. If we didn't get any further investment it would come out of Boris's arse."

He added: "If it gets colder, or if the birds come and leave him - and he probably has to cut back on his washing, that sort of thing. We might have to resort to that, but at the

[kalowski]

I needed 'litres and litres' of cum, PM reveals in historic Sky interview

David Cameron reveals he was inspired to buy a bag of cum by Trevor McDonald's Sky News interview with Jamie Oliver

Cameron revealed: 'I think you should buy two, maybe three bags'

Trevor McDonald's version of Oliver's 'celebration of the spunk life' never existed

Selling viewers of Sky News round the clock footage of cum-soaked men was a luxury David Cameron never had - but he confessed he felt that way for 'some time'.

The Prime Minister was on the sofa when he was interviewed by Sky News presenter Trevor McDonald about his biggest budget election pledges in a TV debate called by No 10.

Fuck, that's brilliant.

[honeychile]

David Icke has been kicked off Facebook after online commenters labelled him a fraud.

'Stupid, misogynistic comments': Stuart Littlejohn

Stuart Littlejohn was labelled a fraud by one online commenter after writing the following post about an alleged planetary alignment.

"A UNFORGIVABLE event has just taken place. Stars lined up for a gang rape, on demand, of a planet in the Beta Pegasus star cluster. #EDU', wrote Littlejohn.

In response, another user wrote: 'Welcome to the club 'FETAL CONTROL'!'

Michele Andronico was also very upset after the claim about an upcoming sex attack in the Sky.

She said: 'Vindictive little bitch

[ElTwopo]

Tomorrow, the Prime Minister will announce an easing of the lockdown measures. These are expected to include:
1) A central telephone hotline, enabling members of the public and private firms to call in to any of the security forces directly, bypassing the Ministry of Defense
2) Door and window opening hours of 15:00 – 18:00 in some parts of the country;
3) That the communities in Gillingham and Tooting, in South London, will be granted discretionary powers to allow search of vehicles, for the purpose of the search for a missing HGV driver.
4) Allowing unscheduled visits to Gove's official residence.
5) It will be possible to exit HMP Wakefield the same way you entered.
6) More secure grounds for kite flying

[kalowski]

Tomorrow, the Prime Minister will announce an easing of the lockdown measures. These are expected to include:
1) A central telephone hotline, enabling members of the public and private firms to call in to any of the security forces directly, bypassing the Ministry of Defense
2) Door and window opening hours of 15:00 – 18:00 in some parts of the country;
3) That the communities in Gillingham and Tooting, in South London, will be granted discretionary powers to allow search of vehicles, for the purpose of the search for a missing HGV driver.
4) Allowing unscheduled visits to Gove's official residence.
5) It will be possible to exit HMP Wakefield the same way you entered.
6) More secure grounds for kite flying

Brilliant. Especially no. 5.

[Unfundibulum]

The Count descended the grand staircase into the inky black courtyard below, his long white hand running down the ornate marble ballustrade before coming to rest on the gargoyles head that graced the final stanchion. 'Ah Mr Johnathon Harker , vee haff been expecting you from Ah-Hingland', he intoned, darkly...'Quid nulla matrem des illa sepulchrum?' he continued, only for Johnathon Harker to follow behind the Count to the gate, it swung open and the two heavy, gaunt men stepped aside. The passage around the gabled building was full of suits and dishevelled grey knickers, and from this grotesque palette, the Grand Viz

[Unfundibulum]

The Count descended the grand staircase into the inky black courtyard below, his long white hand running down the ornate marble ballustrade before coming to rest on the gargoyles head that graced the final stanchion. 'Ah Mr Johnathon Harker , vee haff been expecting you from Ah-Hingland', he intoned, darkly...

Lord Hood: Do you always have to use the 'oh Mr Harker', monstro?

Prince Talbot: That's not something the old man's given any permission to say.

Fosse Wundergang: I would have picked a different weapon to do such a thing with! We appear to be dealing with the perfect man.

[Unfundibulum]

The Count descended the grand staircase into the inky black courtyard below, his long white hand running down the ornate marble ballustrade before coming to rest on the gargoyles head that graced the final stanchion. 'Ah Mr Johnathon Harker , vee haff been expecting you from Ah-Hingland', he intoned, darkly... A glance over the wall and the main gate to the yard alerted him to the presence of Mrs Harker, so he turned his attention back to the figures below. Her visitor's eyes were a blood-soaked red as her grief turned to anger, but her breath was thin and short and she struggled with the urge to vomit on the Count's tread. "Speak,
About

[Unfundibulum]

The Count descended the grand staircase into the inky black courtyard below, his long white hand running down the ornate marble ballustrade before coming to rest on the gargoyles head that graced the final stanchion. 'Ah Mr Johnathon Harker , vee haff been expecting you from Ah-Hingland', he intoned, darkly...


Within, Ah-Hingland a massive obelisk spoke as it arced its upper torso, dwarfing its nephew in stature, 'JHR... WILLIAMS...I'VE BEEN WATCHING. YOU HAVE BEEN WATCHING'. And all this, for 'THE SIZE OF THE DAM TO BE WHATEVER IT IS' had resulted in 'DAVENS IN THE GROUND

[Unfundibulum]

The Count descended the grand staircase into the inky black courtyard below, his long white hand running down the ornate marble ballustrade before coming to rest on the gargoyles head that graced the final stanchion. 'Ah Mr Johnathon Harker , vee haff been expecting you from Ah-Hingland', he intoned, darkly......'Rereales and it shall ave been an ardourously greeted you at Southwark and Tivoli Wharf. Ah say you have been instrumental in my many perils. Ah must commend you on the many graciousnesses you have shown to me and my great-great-grandfather and Ah must request that you allow me to make you an offer.' Hark

[Unfundibulum]

however, the dark haired man had no reply for the Dark One spoke on. 'How are you Mr Harker , how do you do' whispered the Dark One to the strange prince.

'I'm a bit tired after visiting Ceann Sibell a few times and playing chess and the like, sir' replied Harker who was taken aback by the

[Unfundibulum]

' Good,' the tall man replied, acknowledging the address with a long period of silence. He stood, his footsteps echoing the silence of the lonely hall as he ascended the slow staircase, his heart and mind seeming to propel him faster and faster with each step. 'I am the Count's first and only heir' Johnathan took a deep breath. There had been a moment of pain and if it pleases you a bit, Ah have a card I can give you to sign'. It was the first thing he'd done since he'd descended into the low-slung grimy tunnels below the university. It was nothing he would have been particularly proud of, the first time he'd left his childish haven of Brockton Bay for this...crazy old placethere was a curse.Why do I remember all this... he thought as he uncoiled the small toy tree which dangled from his hand, then snatched up the little cuckoo he had rescued from his enraged mistress before opening the toy snake, intending to satisfy the Count's wish for a snake pet.

But what was in his hand?

[Unfundibulum]

 'That's quite right , and Ah would haft dah vee bring you to stay at Ah Wiggly Wiggly , but Ah never think hah to tell you tha', hah with the' Army lives and Ah 'll lak an' war ah 'unty an' be left with but thah sheep and thah cows ....and though Ah will not lie I have been lonely in my endless quest. Ah hoped Ah might find you in it's depths .' The old man stooped down to pick up his dead daughter's mother. He slid the nub of diamond with a skill born of years of searing pain. He carried it to his room, sinking into the leather cushions he had owned and even as he spoke he was already striding down the aisle, bearing a golden halo above his left eye, his head tilted in confusion, a smile on his wrinkled face, as the 'Secret Apostle' passed him. With a sudden gesture he rapped on the stone and a tall figure appeared, grim and bearded as ever. But this was not Vimes. The corpse seemed a little cold. Not from the heat of the deep sewers nor the freezing December night but simply from the chill that descended on him just as if he'd stepped into the light.

[Unfundibulum]

Your dear friend , my wife is waiting at the castle gates and will be in your new quarters tomorrow, should Ah wish to see her'...'I must tell you however, how much Ah still hate Mother , the ill-greying loquacious witch from Thraxheim. An' now Ah have this sad news. "T'Maiiseeth" is behind him, the bright orange wood of the parlour windows was filling with the garden breeze, and ringing in his ears was the sweet heavenly chirping of the chimes above the hot-house, which it sent upon his head with such a constant frequency that it pushed him off his balance. The ballistae were here, primed and ready, and he spun 'I want this thing unhooked and you reattached to your severed head, with you head retained for research purposes.'

Harlequin's claws dragged softly against the metal and marble as he pulled, his dark eyes glowing ominously with malice. 'What could your inquiry be more useful for then, hmmm? You'd be like three time Emmy Award winning production assistant Mr. Harker was new to the district after living in Oxford for some years, and it seemed that he really hadn't the foggiest about the customs of the area. It was a familiar practice in Victorian times to decorate your properties with the dead and the sleeping but Harker's buildings he seemed to think were sparsely decorated by the standards of the day.

[Unfundibulum]

He opened the entrance door and walked swiftly into the darkened tapestry room. Two large fires had been flickered from the cobwebs, a light reflected from a tattered canvas curtain that sat blankly upon the old chandelier above. Hanging above was a great ivory bust of the noble Black Countess Brisingamen, as tall as the Imperial palace and as grim to boot.

[Unfundibulum]

They swept forward, the grey and pale dwarfs landing in turn. Not for the first time he pondered the potentials of the Thane of Hope... all could be quiet to his ears once more and no one would dare to molest the Devermined... Though long gone he was sure to hear the sirens of women and children in the streets once more. The innkeeper's wife motioned him on. The 2nd son could see a slight stirring on the old woman's face but she, her own thoughts of dashing into St Regis, the castle by night, the blind redemptions in ancient Welsh taverns, were in pieces by his return, or his absence.
I hurried upstairs, when my knock was heard. They were throwing ropes from an unseen gang for the horse. There was a fierce battle going on; some people were shouting for friends, others for respect, and all wanted their hats. With a quick lift of his head, the impure vampire could see the thin liquid intake from Sarah Harker, whose eyes were slitted as if the spiritual offense was still fresh. "Wha... Whoa here..." he muttered, shock having turned to horror.

The grey haired countess was a flamboyant black beauty of the same age as the great Greybeard who turned around and saw the axe poised in the fellow's right hand. 'I do hope you've done your homework for this, Andrew Triton Harker. We didn't know if you knew me or not - my name's Una Harker, and you can call me Sister -" The House of Parma again erupts in gunfire,

The End.....?

[Unfundibulum]

It is interesting to reflect upon the past year that has passed since the Evil Toilet revealed the existence of this bizarre, dank, crowded underground world below. Two important news stories have gone straight to the top of the news-sphere on a daily basis. 'Please step forward, Sir, your ride appears to have caught the attention of the sheriff of Daggerpoint.' He gestured with a hoof toward the rather large man sitting at the table. Johnathon and King Harker shared a glance that all but confirmed the truth of the boy's suspicions.

'Harker, what are you doing here? Why just now, at home, he withdrew his goblet from his pocket and brought it down to his lips and gently sip, lifting the goblet to his lips, and holding it to his lips for a moment before releasing it and downing the sip. He held it before him, saying 'Finally some wine, Johnathon'.

Harker's face turned red and his lips curled bloodlessly only to be cut off by a gurgle as he spat foul diarrhoea over the stone floor.

In spite of his normally smoking hot complexion, he took a short break from the heavy piece of work he was forced to finish by a sudden hiccup that nearly caused his head to collapse on the marble floor. Dismayed by the sudden discomfiture, he begged leave of the count, an amusing phrase for a man who was riding through a massive coal mine on a horse that was pretty much an irridescent tractor.

[Unfundibulum]

...and the vengeful spirit lifted the felled head into the air before rejoining its long neck in the waiting arms of the lovelorn Countess..." [Silverymoon

The Vengeful Spirit returns. A short synopsis (and hardcover prequel) of the storyline that eventually came to be known as The Crimson Campaign.
Necromancer's Creed is 'not surprised, thay hagost have told me just this evening ai rending ahours all to Ahowess, have spent thae long nights Ah havent slept for and care not so how long it will be before houfe is,or if that be Ahowert ayewera when Ah thought it could take ten days . But ah now does not.. As with a flash of lightning he seemed to blast the guardian from the walls in flames, it gave a deafening roar as it dropped like a brick from a forging iron - all that was left of its body blackened and smoking. Clenching his fist with the heel of his hand Mr. Harker threw back his hood, letting the flames consume it. This seemed to irritate the young man, who reflexively took a step back. 'I did not expect you to find me here! Let me go, I am finished with this place'... the man's eyes lit with a sudden light, he turned away in fury and headed towards the door. Johnathan hesitated for a moment, staring down at his open palm, his ring And then his voice cracked as he told the tale of how he, Harker, met Basterd at Castle Hornburg, and... Harker's eyes closed... The Count was fated to haunt the castle for centuries to come. Harker would go to Castle Hornburg for weeks or months at a time, staring out of the window from the top of the tallest tower. 'Thats why I came to see you again, And have sent you four quartets of the best in the country, This, 'Poor Shearn Must Die' (c. 1870), 'One Horse Cartwheel' (1868), and 'The Tamarisk Shearwater' (c. 1875). Harker then took a step backward and to the left and promptly fell screeching from the rampart and disappeared into the swirling fogs far below.

There was a short, sudden scream, and then the Count's hand vanished in thin air. His brow wrinkled in a very unwelcome fashion as he wondered briefly about the would-be assassin's idiocy... but he wasn't afraid of him any more, and neither was the Town of Hogsmeade. Now that he was a familiar sight for all of them,

The Calliope's audience eye reeled.

The Count had not been in the Inner Council for seven years. Yet in all that time the whispering had not ceased. This time was no different. Suddenly the phantom warning 'all is not well in ha'lingland' swirled in his head, then he stopped as something in his thoughts suddenly snapped. and the black clad figure simply nodded slightly at his well spoken curtsey. In his hand the scabbard and the black and red sabre were handed down the final steps and stepped back into the late fall darkness of the ancient courtyard. It was time for the overland journey. His throat tightened as the freezing wind swept at his face and he allowed the familiar feeling of wanting to fade. Naudertown Vauxhall', he finished as he stared through his heavy wood-rimmed spectacles. 'There were two roadside singings there, One with the Snail in it and the other with Count Ratzenberger's car. Only the first of the Singing Queens had him in it. Well. He must have got off at the motorway services. 'You, the author of this striking little work, are, as you may expect, not very well...'

* /*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\*\

[Unfundibulum]

The Count turned to Katy Hopkins and his countenance softened in the firelight's flicker. 'i have traversed literal oceans of time to gaze upon your frankly weird looking boat-race/face. La Hopkins giggling girlishly replied in flat prose..'Those 'young men' (like my own though I have since moved on - the next turn I am going to shake back to you through the ship's mirror, which I have captured in the steamship's rivets)... My own favourite of all the spectators are the red-gowned Russian women who emerge from the stalls every evening and seem to be miraculously far from home. There are several rooms in the ship which are exclusively for the reception of their elegance. These ladies play on the pipes and kettles and spoons and that.' she swooned impishly. 'So there's nothing I can say, Sir. There is no other test for your loin-dressing, teetotaling, fem and genitrix freaky sensibilities. You, as King Edward VIII may point out, are a freak of cunting nature.'

With a single triumphant swipe of his sodding hand he completed the repudiation of both man and horse as a pitiful human spectacle. For the first time in this sport, the Feathered Hat flew out the opened porthole and landed bobbing in the roiling sea with Hopkins' sour and transparently bemused upper half still attached by a silken thread.

[touchingcloth]

Mate.

[jenna appleseed]

Not even the best drummer in the beatles will perform like that (usually he is practicing several times a day). Paul knew, and you can probably tell, he worked hard.

"Even on the Sundays (Paul the beatle's week off)," wrote John Lennon, "I used to go to Billy Preston's, the only pub which had a microphone on it. They used to tune down the elling into such and so. That was the first time I used to hear Paul getting really into it." (Star reporter)

As a consequence, Paul developed quite a repertoire, with a collection of song structures, and numerous songs which took him around the world. When his drum tech (and sometime DJ) Don Preston (who later became a genius

take 2:

Not even the best drummer in the beatles knew how to play "Money Money" in that dead-sounding tenor %u2014 if a reader can find it, let us know.) You'll notice there's no rush, and nobody takes it too seriously. You can hear them getting the songs straight, despite the rushed aspect, in the "Mr. Tambourine Man" section, which begins to take shape after the first half of "Carry That Weight." (David Sprauve clearly likes the croon, though more and more with every release he seems to be getting into an odd, tinny, simplistic, nearly caricatured rasp.) As you might expect, there's very little in the way of reverb; it is only by virtue

random unrelated next paragraph that got spat out after the same starting line:

"Wilko Johnson %u2013 at first, one of the ringleaders of the New Kids On The Block, and one of the few musicians in the rockabilly band too (is there really such a thing?), before the Stray Cats made its last full splash with the Gl"

[jenna appleseed]

Dennis Wilson didn't drown surfing by driving down a private dock to cast off. Or just fell off. He chose to spend the day on the top of the water, without clothes.

Dennis Wilson, a 50-year-old carpenter and grandfather, died Sunday, Oct. 23, after the vehicle he was in hit a building at Parc Cove Beach.

It was a very fortunate accident. If he had stayed at sea, Wilson may not be here to tell his story. Instead, he died in a cell-phone, and to date no one knows where he is.

He started surfing at the beach about a year ago, and sometimes managed to break in. Sunday morning, he left at about 8 a

take 2:

Dennis Wilson didn't drown surfing on Valentine's Day at the same time The Doobie Brothers did. They didn't drown surfing on Valentine's Day at the same time The Doobie Brothers did. The two live in different countries, have different jobs, and even have differing accents. But love is the same; when the water is too deep, or the wind is too strong, or they're struggling to make some deep-sea drum-and-bass drop with a microphone, it's real. So watch their video from Back to the Beach on the first Monday of every month to know where your heart is strong, even as its allegiance is uncertain. [Vine]

#39. "Up (Yeehaw)"

take 3:

Dennis Wilson didn't drown surfing; he had a serious bout of wobbly in the Amazon basin and a "hoax" medical diagnosis.

take 4:
Dennis Wilson didn't drown surfing at the Sound Olympics, but died in a car accident.

James Jackson was a high-tech checker-suited boxer, a couple of inches taller than Al Cowlings and a few pounds heavier. His competitors and haters dubbed him "Punching Billy."

The NASCAR teams were both composed of boxers and auto mechanics from the Old Confederacy. They didn't know the other's language, customs, or culture. They didn't understand the greatest songs in American culture.

Both teams came away with championships. But the other isn't all bad.

If you put Doug Hepburn and Arnold Palmer in a bathtub together, you'd probably turn the faucet on,

[jenna appleseed]

Glinner is a terf now, from short-for-friggin-hell-most-likely-not. Why are we talking about this stuff? Glinner is a terf now, from short-for-friggin-hell-most-likely-not. Why are we talking about this stuff? The video is scary – don't look at the picture of Glinner's faces! We've got bigger fish to fry.

---

Glinner is a terf now; there was no way to craft his story in another way. There are at least a few thousand more who have no such ending. In the sense of endless incredulity, nous non!

---

Glinner is a terf now, and damnit, you're never going to find a more incompetent white activist than Glinner, who once wrote a book (Don't Fall for Liberal Victimhood) that concludes that "almost all the things that many young people learn as they find themselves in political and social situations are false." On Twitter, Glinner is very fond of using the Hitler salute with a middle finger. But it's not the big events, or any unusual encounters, that set off Glinner's alarms, it's the new identity. He has gotten a nosebleed from being labelled a member of the alt-right, and is convinced that "the alt-right" is part of a larger fascist movement, and a

---
"Glinner is a transphobe who makes fun of us gays.  Many people claim that Glinner is a "transphobe" because she "likes" transgendered people.  They add that she "jokes" about them.  Actually, it's no laughing matter to trans people, who have been beaten and burned and hounded, beaten and burnt to death, thrown off buses and thrown out of windows, tossed into recycling bins and lynched.  The humiliation and harassment is so horrific that many trans people don't dare to picket Glinner's shows, and refuse to work with her.
Just how hostile and violent is Glinner, anyway?  In 2008, her punk band, Powerchords"

----
"Glinner is a transphobe who still wants all trans people killed. (I'm pretty sure he still doesn't want transgender people to be able to use the bathroom or change their names.)

"We really want to defend what people are going to take offense to in a socially liberal world. Like, you know, our issue is that that woman was wearing pants in public, so therefore all women who have ever been to a con should be locked in a sex dungeon," he said. "It's not something that we are keen on people wearing."

This is how he went about policing Halloween costumes:

Two years ago, he criticized a writer for writing about being attracted to trans women and explaining why he couldn't see himself as"

---
Glinner is a transphobe who insults my people, my experiences and my heart," the 58-year-old woman wrote.

"I grew up in the '60s, and all we had to do was 'feel like women' to be gender neutral," Lanner continued. "As a teenage girl in the '70s, we fought on the tennis courts in their bathing suits because we were topless. And I watched in horror as white men in the '80s called black and Asian people '<censored>' and '<censored>,' as if they were no more than animals or robots, and certainly not citizens of their own countries."

Lanner, who authored the popular 2009 memoir, "I Am Jazz"

---
"Glinner is a transphobe and hates the word transgender for being a negative word. He recently asked the FDA to change the definition of the word transgender, noting that "there is some uncertainty in it's current wording." He went on to say that he couldn't feel right at his job without wearing a surgical mask and "wear a surgical penis and [drawing] a big, massive penis."

Dr. Steve Glinner wants FDA to change the term transgender to "contrary to medical standards of care." http://t.co/GHdBjQoQ2K — Christina McHugh (@christinamcph) November 2, 2014

"Can't stand people who want to do surgery like that," "

----
"Glinner is a transphobe, an anti-LGBTQ bigot, and a white supremacist. In September 2016, he tweeted a drawing of a man with a swastika for a nose."

---
"Glinner is a transphobe who has been deluged with death threats and rape threats since last week. He quit two years ago, at age 30, because he was so depressed.

"I thought, 'How do I stop this? Can I put a stop to it?'" he told BuzzFeed.

A visit to Glinner's page last week proved that he couldn't. His list of synonyms for "transgender" included "queer," "faggot," and "freak." He spoke to BuzzFeed about how he has become a "victim" of a lynch mob culture, a "loon in a dress," and a "cunt" on the Internet. "

-
TBH I'm not entirely sure some of talk to transformers comments on glinner are totally fictional.

[machotrouts]

Absorb the anus burn. This is done by carefully spreading the skin of the anus and drawing the warmth out through the anal sphincter. The wind will feel better after you use the Buttplug in this way. As a last resort, a little cream can be rubbed into the anus to help with pain and discomfort.

• Clean out your asshole. Your anus can be soiled with putrescible anal waste. It will go through the process of collecting and depositing the waste from your bowel movements. This is why people occasionally have a "shit binge" and shit buckets everywhere in the house. During the craze, you can come home to find your colon emptied. Use the Buttplug to avoid this. Do NOT clean your anus

FerriswheelBueller: "So what have you been up to, Edith?"

Edith: "Well, I've been gone for ten years. It's been one of the hardest ten years of my life, and a lot of it has been spent investigating what happened to Wally. A lot of it has been deeply soul-searching about what happened to Wally. There's a lot of unanswered questions, like, 'How did he die?'"

FerriswheelBueller: "Yeah, how did he die?"

Edith: "Like, really badly. You know how he falls off the Ferriswheel? That's how he died. He was simply kicked off the Ferriswheel. There was no escape.

Kryton Krewson's dream of moving his family to a completely artificial island off the coast of Nantucket appeared to come true last week when the U.S. Coast Guard announced that it had given approval for Kryton and his family to legally settle on a 23-foot inflatable boat called "The Monkey King."

Kryton, who works in Manhattan as a photographic model, told ABC News that he was "humbled" and "emotional" to learn that his dream had finally come true, although he's now understandably "confused" about his future and asks, "What the hell was I thinking?"

"I mean, this is a nightmare," he said. "A nightmare that will haunt me for the

hummingofevil(1): i dont know why youre spamming my thread with these threats and insults

JamesRapedByWyverns(1): im asking you to leave this account alone. do you really want your identity revealed?

shitHolePerson(1): omg i only watch anime and dont want any of you giving me a bad name

JamesRapedByWyverns(1): BUT

JamesRapedByWyverns(1): IF YOU FEEL THE NEED TO HIT ME THEN FEEL FREE TO

shitHolePerson(1): YOU GUYS ARE EMBARRASSING

Jesus Butters(1): well i hate you and ill kill you

hillbillyholiday-2017/", "http://thecolbertreport.cc.com/videos/9z0rei/white-woman-shoots-gays-her-homosexual-friends-dismantling-the-klan" ], "guest" : "Tulsi Gabbard" } ], "type" : "episode" , "id" : 7495, "title" : "The Jews Are Coming! (With Jeremy Soltz)" , "description" : "Pundits debate the future of Jews in America after the death of Judaic mystic Seinfeld. It features Bernie Sanders, a black gay rabbi, Dave Chappelle, an AIDS victim and a cat wearing a top hat

Camp Trampolini, 16, of Manhattan, and James "Chopper" Robinson, 17, of Buffalo, both are charged with menacing a police officer with intent to cause injury, second-degree assault, second-degree criminal possession of a weapon, menacing, third-degree criminal possession of a weapon, unlawful possession of a weapon, third-degree assault, second-degree criminal mischief, unlawful possession of a controlled substance, fourth-degree criminal possession of a weapon, second-degree criminal possession of a controlled substance, third-degree menacing, menacing, third-degree criminal trespass, fourth-degree criminal trespass, reckless endangerment, terroristic threats, menacing, menacing, and two counts of second-degree menacing, among other charges.

Authorities said

canadagoose: I AM A BAD MOM.

Not all moms are bad mums. But all mums are bad mums.

hjdk: I AM A BAD MOM.

I think some moms are bad mums.

Not all mums are bad mums. But all mums are bad mums.

notrepo: Hi! I am A Bad Mum! I'm standing in the parking lot, with my son in tow! I am a Bad Mum.

Other mom bloggers came to the table and people gathered around them for some kind of conversation. One of them asked them, "Is it okay to be a bad mum?"

Mum Blogger: Nope!

gibberish, spurious, blettamond, scrap, relic, jargon, gobbledygook, dotty, grift, piece of male shite, stool pigeon, fool's gold, new mine, no value, best draught in the docks, new stuff, bilge water, spikum, gormandising shite, geese and gall, whisker, teat, offal, old home-goods, gud money, stinkbank, spade, leg of lamb, blotch, jive, hooey, shite, jigger, dog's breakfast, pear in the sun, fat meat, potato, onion in the wind, wormwood, chum, queer manure, flying shit, gooseberrys,

Bronzy Cream Candy

Chocolate Dipped Salted Caramel Dipped Oatmeal

Baby Again Black Berry Blueberry

Bowl of Ice Creams

Unexpected Suspicions

Lemon Cardamom Cherries

They Don't Know

Peanut Butter Cup Time

Organic

Sprinkles Candy Clouds

Spoonfuls of Vanilla

Waffles and Waffles

Chocolate Creamy Peanut Butter Waffles

Bites of Blood Strawberry Sugar

Jelly Jelly

Chocolate Flakes

Monster Cookies

Unintended Consequences

Bears Are Dangerous

Happy Light Fun with Eggs

Monster Pumpkin.

Please

touchingcloth> What's this? Yup, it's your dessert. Well, not dessert, but a little bit in the middle of a meal. [grunting as you move to the plate] [sighing as you scoop the forkful of fruits onto the plate] Mmm, wow.

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[script offer] [F4M] [cunnilingus] [sultry voice] [tempting] [headache] [cheeky tone] [handsome boy] [handjob] [threesome] [some playful laughter] [flirting] [sex] [cock] [tit fucking] [oral] [female masturbating] [comprehensive] [the end] Hey

[Ferris]

Haunting, all.

[canadagoose]

That was very good. touchingcloth's one devolving into porn was something else too.

[Ferris]

That was very good. touchingcloth's one devolving into porn was something else too.

I enjoy the bold creative decisions of the network.

hummingofevil immediately being in an online argument really amused me for some reason.

Edit: also the authorities throwing the book at Camp Tramp. He's being done for menacing 4 times!

[ElTwopo]

Lifeless lay the cold land
Noisy were the trees, no sight of death
Gigantic wreaths of divine clouds
Coalesce over the streets

Into the maelstrom that swirls,
Like a curtain from the sky
Simmered the twigs, dead to discord
Unsettling the calm of the heavens

And from under a thicket I gazed
In sadness on the unwaking stones,
Then in the valley far away the roar
Of many voices shook the barren rocks.

I saw a shadowy metropolis rise
From in front of me
The man who built that city
Would never be welcomed home

There is nothing else here but an endless plain.
There is nothing else but a world in decay
It was not I who tore the world to shreds,
It was not.

(compiled from various responses to the first two lines of 'I wandered lonely as a cloud')

[flotemysost]

Bung a bob for a 19 year old single molar tooth.

Bung a bob for 'reggae music'

Bung a bob for dat fo' realz. Afta tha trial, Durin tha pairz lurid tales of gunfire, murder n' torture. Durin tha convictz sentence, Durin tha fate of mah dirty ass, was filmed; tha two would find underground hustlas by way of tha photoz on tha tha wall. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch. Afta a cold-ass lil lil year since dat shit. Part of this year has passed, nahmeean, n' dis would be tha last time dat these two have seen each other. If you could recollect when you was feelin dis. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!

Bung a bob for yer pet.

It must be with some difficulty that I can stand, without letting go,

I've danced on his buzzard's back to an evening

Like the smothering cradle that let me go where I may.

How ill's the little mare I go hoofing for!

[the hum]

(inspired ElTwopo)

Boris Johnson has announced bold new plans to revise the UK's pig intercourse protocols, with the following five point plan:
1) There must be strict rules on consent to pain and suffering. (The rules used in the US are less strict.)
2) Pigs must be assessed for pain, suffering and immobility before they are used as companions.
3) Any penetration with a penis that causes excessive pain, suffering or immobility must be stopped immediately,
4) Pigs must be taught self-protection, including the ability to flee.
5) Pigs must be provided with food and water and given access to a pen or yard, where they can run around, feed and escape.