Vejam este caralhudo... é o fodendo planeta terra,
ele é gigante... em cada canto dele há pessoas diferentes com diferentes culturas. Com o tempo os humanos desenvolveram algumas habilidades e criaram coisas fantásticas.
Olhem para este caralhudo, é um fodendo carro, você já dirigiu um carro? Se sim você sabe como é a fornicação a sensação de cruzar estradas com o seu carro. E você acha que esse belo modelo da Ford caiu do céu? Claro que não filho da put4, demorou anos para que ele fosse aperfeiçoado. Veja como ele era: Um fodendo Daimler, guiado pelos mais nobres confrades, agora veja isso: Um fodendo avião, esse caralhudo rasga os céus transportando filhos da put4 pelo mundo todo, olha pra onde ele te leva filho de uma maconheira aidética.
O quê? Não é suficiente pra você? Então enfia isso no seu cu, um fodendo ônibus espacial. Consegue ver até onde chegamos? Somos caralhudos! Mas não apenas nas invenções, como se não bastasse essa caralhada tecnológica somos todos artistas. Vejam estes caralhudos, todos marcados na história, fora isso ainda criamos competições esportivas e até mesmo os video-games mais caralhudos.
Caralh0... como o mundo é foda!
Viu quanta coisa? Agora me diz filho da put4, me diz porque você se preocupa tanto com mulher, com peito, com boceta? Você fica choramingando por causa de mulher, você fica rastejando por causa de mulher, você vive tentando agradar mulher, você junta dinheiro pra gastar com mulher, você entra em depressão por causa de mulher, você é um lixo, você troca seu planeta lindo e rico por simples vagabundas. Mulheres são importantes? Sim, sem elas não nos reproduzíamos e algumas até nos dão certa alegria, mas você troca tudo que foi desenvolvido durante milhões de anos por um boceta peluda e fedida, você não vale nada seu escravo de boceta, você não merece esse mundo lindo e moderno, as invenções, as composições, as descobertas... ao invés de dar valor pra isso você prefere ter uma vida de adoração ao sexo feminino, você é um lixo escravo de boceta!

>Into trannys my entire life
>ever since i "accidentally" clicked on a early 2000s porn site called trannytrouble
>go years jerking off to traps.
>two years ago on tinder
>looking for real women
>match with some chick but didnt even look at profile
>She messaged me first
>glance over her profile
>Start chatting a bit
>Take a better look at profile
>Pre Op trap
>Instant hard on
>Talk to her a bit
>End up going on a date with her
>She was gorgeous
>Wine and dine this chick two more times
>Finally she agrees to come back to my condo
>I fuck her ass hole raw like there is no tomorrow
>The moment i ejaculate i get this instant (and i mean instant) wave of realization and regret rush over me
> Look at him
>I see his cock laying there
>The angular jaw
>The large hand and feet
>The smell of man in my room
>Lay there awake all night while this man cuddles next to me
>Kick him out in the morning (politely)
>Write it off as a mistake that i will forever hide
>avoid all contact
>One day my mother calls me
>Says this person is messaging her on facebook
>Its the tranny
>He tells my mother everything, He even finds my brother and grandmother on facebook
>Tells them im a huge faggot
>My brother and grand mother no longer talk to me
>Things have never been the same with my mom


Yeah its best you just keep jerking off to these people because in reality they are nothing more than unstable men

I know everyone is freaking out about how similar the cards are, but business cards are Serious Business in American finance, and just about anywhere in Japan and China. The quality of the card says a lot about the person, as well as it's visual composition. Bateman's card is actually terrible. The type face is just a poor choice over all. The letters have variable thickness in the lines, and they aren't monospaced which is a big no-no. Plus, despite using a sub-cap design, the advantage is lost due to the massive first letters. Usually you want the first letters of every word to be slightly, but noticeably larger than the rest of the word. That in combination with the capitalization, makes the whole thing easier to read. But the small capitals on BATEMAN are too large, there's very little difference between the size of the "B" and the "ATEMAN". Sure, traditionally last names are full caps, but it looks better to small cap between 85% and 95% instead and Bateman's is just... weird, cause the B is still a hair larger so it's obvious he's going for a small caps look. But the typeface is obviously not designed for small caps in the first place. First of all, it's not monospaced. Secondly, each capital letter has variable line thickness and some are even tilted or skewed to draw as much attention as possible. Generally, that's done to make sentences and proper nouns easier to read. A proper small capital design just makes capitals easier to read without calling special attention to them. Weirder, the difference between the "P" and "atrick" in "Patrick is just so huge that it looks like regular capitalization. So really, the difference between Bateman's design and just writing Patrick BATEMAN (which is the traditional format) is negligible. The numbers are terrible as well. The phone number, while also being way too far from the edge, is nothing but disjointed from the rough-shod centering. Due to the lack of monospacing, the three fives are almost twice as big as the 212, so the fives are centered lower. To make it worse, the next number after the fives is a six so far up it might as well be superscript, followed by a three slightly larger than the fives and a four a little smaller. The two of course, is centered up slightly and is almost half the length of the four. There are also generally just errors and spacing problems. In the upper corner is the firm name, Pierce & Pierce, which, for some ungodly reason, is missing a space on one side so it's "Pierce &Pierce". I can barely read "Mergers and Acquisitions", due to how crowded it is. The address at the bottom is full of the numbers issues, but doesn't suffer as much from the capitalization since it's so small. Unfortunately, the whole address is also off center, the space between the start and the edge and the end and the edge is noticeibly different. I can assume that the card itself is made from good stock from the other character's reactions, but the design of the thing is an atrocity. Compare it to David's card, which has issues like the unnecessary bolding of his name which was unaccounted for when spacing the letters, or the bad type face, but which has fewer issues over all. The phone number is all equal sizes and proper spaced, the "Pierce & Pierce" has proper spacing between the words, and the address is at least centered, if not too far away from the bottom edge. Over all, it has a better composition than Bateman's, but could use some work. Bryce's card is where it gets interesting. While I'm personally not a fan of textured cards, that's mainly personal opinion. It's really a divisive issue, I think it makes the whole thing look cheap and poorly-made, like it was manufactured from recycled from toilet rolls, but to each their own. Anyway, the typeface, while not perfect, is significantly better. Unlike Pattan's card, the name really does need to be bolded due to the typeface, and the lack of monospacing is not helping matters. But it's definitely a better choice. The numbers are the same size, which is good, and the address is both well spaced and well

typed. Also, everything in general is just a bit bigger and lines up a bit better, though the phone number is slightly inwards of the address, and the firm name is centered slightly bellow the phone number, it's still much much better. Plus, I'm a slut for raised lettering. Finally we get to the only good card in the bunch, Paul Allen's. The typeface is the only one that's monospaced, and the lines are all the same thickness. It's a prime example of how to use small capitals, each small capital is about 80 or 85% the size of a normal capital, as it should be. PIERCE & PIERCE is sized especially well, and the "Mergers And Acquisitions" is not only done in small caps with good letter spacing, it's also the same length as "PIERCE & PIERCE", which is a huge deal. The phone number is great too, not only because of the typeface, but also because of the periods. The spaces between numbers in a phone number is usually a weak-point for business cards, cause dashes are more eyesore and hard to read than helpful, but the periods get out of the way of the numbers will also making it clear and easy to read. A personal favorite of mine, is how the phone number is spaced directly between "PIERCE & PIERCE" and "Mergers And Acquisitions" and how he's broken up the address and fax number into two lines. If I had any complaint's about Allen's card, it would be the exact spacing between letters. The "P" in "Paul" is just a bit too far away from the "aul". And the rest of the capitals are just a bit too close together for my taste, but now I'm nit-picking.

Please God, I want to impregnate Abigail Shapiro so bad. I want her to bear my children with those beautiful child-bearing hips. That beautiful, radiant angel. Like a goddess, having come down to Earth to cleanse us of is beyond divine. I can’t help but drop to my knees in worship whenever I see her beautiful figure even though it's behind those massive Khazar Milkers . I yearn for her in a way both primal and spiritual. I would commit more war crimes than every president in United States history just to lick the sweet, glistening sweat from her smooth, creamy skin. I want to listen to her moans as my manhood throbs within her, I want to hear her heart race as our bodies become one and our souls irreversibly intertwine in the holy sin of carnal union.

I want to suckle at her motherly bosom, slurping that rich juche milk from her teat as she gently strokes my raging erection. I would stir her velvety cream into my coffee and let my balls boil in it. Her cries of pleasure and the rocking of our bed would be louder than the cacophony of ten thousand drone strikes. I would make love to her until my body gave out, and then some. I would let her break my rib cage with any part of her body. I would let her hit me with her car just to be near her for a brief moment.

She’s so perfect it hurts. Every moment without her I suffer a pain worse than breaking every bone in my body simultaneously while drowning and also having shards of glass coated in hot sauce forced through every orifice of my body. I want her, I need her. I want to desecrate her crisp general suit. I want to start a family with her and retire after our twenty seven children have grown up and moved out. I want to see those luscious lips speak such filthy, perverse words into my ear while she slides ice cubes down my gaping pisshole.

I want to fuck her like she owes me money. I would let her step on me, just to feel the soft, firm warmth of her feet upon my face and groin area. I would sleep under her just to catch her drool in my mouth. I would fish the strands of hair from her shower drain just to smell her alluring scent, and braid them into necklaces to keep her with me always. Or cock rings. Whichever would please her more.

God please, I would do anything for her. I would relinquish my life, all my hopes and dreams, just to become the socks on her feet so that I may warm her mouthwatering toes with my very being, so that she may feel the heat of my love always. I would encase myself in cement and become her doorstep, so that she may wipe her heels upon my face. I would tear my own limbs off. I don’t know what I’d do after that, or why she might want my limbs. But I would do it.

My queen, my goddess, the light of my life. Please God, let me have her. I want her to be mine and only mine. I would lick the Doritos dust from her fingers and fill her belly button with honey mustard to dip my tendies in. I would give her a sponge-bath with my tongue every morning and serve her breakfast in bed. I would let her eat her eggs and pancakes off my body if it pleased her, no matter how painful the third-degree burns would be.

I would bear the torment of eternal damnation until the end of time to taste the seat of her car but once. There is nothing I wouldn’t do for her, nothing I wouldn’t say. I would beat my own friend to death with my engorged penis if it would bring a smile to Abigail Shapiros shining face. I wouldn’t even let myself cum until she gave me permission.

I love you, Khazar Milk Truck. Please. Be mine. Be my wife, my lover, my mommy, my everything. Say yes. Answer my calls, respond to my letters. Something. Give me a sign, Abigail. I’m waiting for you.

I’ll always be waiting for you.

>seja eu
>ben tennyson 16 anos
>estou mexendo no celular e descubro q estão vendendo uma figurinha do sumo dourada extremamente rara
>o preço é muito dinheiro e eu tenho mais ou menos muito menos dinheiro
>procuro qualquer trampo na area
>descubro que as velhas ricas da cidades organizam festas todo mês através de um cartas
>''queremos jovens bonitos para dançar na frente do palco''
>a grana era alta e só preciso dançar kkkkkkkkkk
>me inscrevo e chego no dia
>elas me aceitam como dançarino
>idiotas eu nem sei dançar
>chega perto do meu momento de dançar
>me levam pra um lugar pra eu trocar de roupa
>me dão um tipo de armadura dourada sexual mt estranha
>percebo onde eu me meti naquele momento
>''é tarde de mais pra sair preciso do dinheiro''
>entro no palco, vejo varias velhinhas me observando
>começo a dançar
>''tudo pelo sumo''
>as velhinhas começam a assobiar em e chamar de gostoso
>começo a me acostumar e passo isso por mais 10m
>está perto do fim
>vejo entrando uma nova pessoa
>vó max
>ele me viu e ficou tão confuso quando eu
>nós encaramos por um tempo e então fizemos um pacto silencioso
>isso nunca aconteceu
>ele saiu pela porta da frente e eu pela de trás
>ninguém soube desse dia e eu recebi o dinheiro
>o acordo foi selado

Eu, o "vocês sabem quem", já quase levei flores para uma prostituta.

E para uma prostituta travesti.

Depois de comer umas 19 vezes a Carolina Montenеgro, eu orientei um amigo meu de um fórum de travestis sobre como fazer para gozar na boca da Carol.

Ela achou muito ofensivo e canalha de minha parte.

Quando eu voltei lá para fazer mais um programa com ela. Houve uma DR tenebrosa. A gente brigou feio, não houve nem sеxo. O clima estava tão pesado que eu paguei e fui embora.

Era o último dia dela no Rio. Ela ficou três meses em São Paulo e voltou. Eu precisava voltar lá para pedir desculpas. A grande verdade é que esse viado foi o grande amor da minha vida. Ou o mais próximo disso que alguém chegou.

Pensei em levar flores, mas para mim ficou complicado. Fazia quase quinze anos que eu havia tido a minha última nаmorada. Nunca fico com ninguém. Não saio com ninguém que não seja garota e nem travesti de programa. Se minha mãe, meu pai ou algum amigo me visse com um buquê de flores na rua, aquilo se tornaria inexplicável. Então decidi não comprar.

Cheguei no apartamento da Carol e simplesmente a primeira coisa que eu disse foi:

"Carol, antes de você me expulsar eu só queria dizer uma coisa para você: desculpe. Eu sou infantil demais, você me conhece, eu sou babaca. Sou imaturo. O que eu falei foi, para variar uma besteira e eu te amo. Eu te amo. Você aceita fazer um programa comigo? Se não aceitar, eu pago e vou embora. Não tem problema, a culpa é minha."

Ela me abraçou e me perdoou. E transamos.

"O Especialista"

Um especialista foi chamado para solucionar um problema em um computador de grande porte e altamente complexo... um computador que valia 12 milhões de dólares!



Sentado em frente ao monitor, o especialista pressionou algumas teclas e balançou a cabeça, murmurou algo para si mesmo e desligou o computador. Tirou uma chave de fenda de seu bolso e girou um minúsculo parafuso no interior da máquina. Então ligou o computador novamente e verificou que tudo estava funcionando perfeitamente.



O presidente da empresa se mostrou surpreendido e ofereceu pagar a conta no mesmo instante:



- Quanto lhe devo? - perguntou.

- São mil dólares, por favor. - Disse o especialista.

- Mil dólares? Mil dólares por alguns minutos de trabalho? Mil dólares por apertar um parafuso? Eu sei que meu computador vale 12 milhões de dólares, mas mil dólares é um valor absurdo! Pagarei pelo seu serviço somente se receber uma nota fiscal com todos os detalhes que justifique tal valor.



O especialista concordou balançando a cabeça e saiu. Na manhã seguinte, o presidente recebeu a nota fiscal, leu com cuidado, balançou a cabeça e saiu para pagá-la, no mesmo instante, sem reclamar.


A nota fiscal dizia: "Serviços prestados"

1) Apertar um parafuso.......................1 dólar

2) Saber qual parafuso apertar..........999 dólares

TOTAL ...................................1.000 dólares

#recuseimitações
#ufscar #usp #unesp #unicamp
#coronavírus

Peeing with a boner is more difficult than giving birth.

I am being 100 percent serious when I say this. This shouldn't even be an unpopular opinion, people just don't think about what the word "difficult" actually means.

Peeing with a boner is more difficult than giving birth. Giving birth is definitely more painful, but pain by itself does not make something difficult. For example, putting my hand in a fire is not difficult, but it would hurt a lot. In order for something to be difficult, there has to be some chance of failure due to lack of skill, practice, or technique. Peeing with a boner often requires creative problem solving skills, especially in small spaces. There is no creative problem solving aspect of giving birth. Additionally, the way humans have evolved for these two actions supports my point. Giving birth is a natural process, which humans have evolved to be able to do. The female body is literally designed so that it can give birth with the lowest possible chance of error. The only real error that can happen is a miscarriage, which is also a natural occurrence, not a failure that occurs due to a lack of skill in giving birth. The male body, on the other hand, has evolved specifically so that peeing with a boner is very difficult. The only purpose for having a boner is to impregnate a woman, so the male body evolved to prevent urination during sex. On top of the difficulty in simply getting the pee to flow, there's the issue of actually positioning yourself so that the boner is pointing into the toilet bowl (urinals are much easier, but not always an option). In the past, I have had to give up and wait until my boner goes away because it was simply too difficult to actually pee in the toilet. There has never been a case where a woman has tried to give birth after being pregnant for nine months, not been able to do it, and said "fuck it" and waited 3 more months to try again because it would be easier the second try. Giving birth happens, every single time, because it's a natural process - peeing with a boner is the opposite.

In conclusion, peeing with a boner is hard.

Peeing with a boner doesn't kill babies, so of course we put more medical effort into giving birth. Also, I'm talking about the actual act of pushing the baby out, not doctors trying to save someone else's baby from dying due to a NATURALLY OCCURRING error, not a woman not having enough skill to successfully deliver the baby. Oh, and don't forget that giving birth has been around way longer than doctors. We don't need them, they just decrease the natural rate of failure that comes with creating an entire new human. As another user said in this comment section, we used to give birth in caves wearing loincloths.

You obviously have very little understanding of how evolution works. Humans have not reached some perfect form where all of our bodily functions are flawless. And yes, it is 100 percent true that we have evolved to be able to give birth. If you don't think that's true, you know nothing about evolution and should probably just stop using it as an argument. Evolution makes us more likely to pass on our DNA, and giving birth is literally a process in which we pass on our DNA to a new human. Small random changes over time, as well as natural selection through probability have both made it more and more likely for babies to survive childbirth. But since the human body has many purposes besides giving birth, it cannot possibly be a perfect birth-giving machine. There at inevitable natural errors that happen, and that's just the way it is. Again, I'm also only talking about the act of actually pushing the baby out, not the doctors who help out. Standing in the shower to pee? Since when were there showers in gas station bathrooms?

When I wait for the boner to go away, I'm avoiding peeing with a boner. Read that sentence again. IT MEANS I'M NOT FUCKING PEEING WITH A BONER. Peeing with a boner is the hard part, not just peeing. And just because giving birth requires effort does not mean it is difficult. It happens every time. I think you'

re ignoring the ways we've evolved mentally to be able to give birth. Yet another way in which you misunderstand what evolution is. It is natural instinct for a woman to do what is required to give birth. Everything she needs is there from the moment she hits puberty, in both the physical and mental categories, as well as the chemicals that are produced in the brain. As for the pain? Evolution isn't meant to make you happy, it's meant to make you survive. The point of pain is to make people safer. It's meant to make you think twice about doing something that might cause you to feel pain. Maybe if there was no pain in giving birth, humans in the past would've had way too many kids and would've been worse off because their instincts would be to protect all of them, which would be a burden.

As I said above, the purpose of waiting until the boner goes away is so that you don't have to pee with a boner, because it's difficult. I guess I shouldn't have assumed that the people reading this post would be smart enough to figure that out.

Finally, giving birth is...

INEVITABLE. Therefore it never doesn't happen due to a lack of skill from the birth-giver. Peeing with a boner does. The point I'm trying to make with this post is that peeing with a boner is like a 3 on the difficulty scale (varies based on dick size and bathroom size) and giving birth is inapplicable to the definition of "difficult."