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Posted: 6/28/2015 10:03:54 PM EDT
I hole-hardedly agree, but allow me to play doubles advocate here for a moment. For all intensive purposes I think you are wrong. In an age where false morals are a diamond dozen, true virtues are a blessing in the skies. We often put our false morality on a petal stool like a bunch of pre-Madonnas, but you all seem to be taking something very valuable for granite. So I ask of you to mustard up all the strength you can because it is a doggy dog world out there. Although there is some merit to what you are saying it seems like you have a huge ship on your shoulder. In your argument you seem to throw everything in but the kids Nsync, and even though you are having a feel day with this I am here to bring you back into reality. I have a sick sense when it comes to these types of things. It is almost spooky, because I cannot turn a blonde eye to these glaring flaws in your rhetoric. I have zero taller ants when it comes to people spouting out hate in the name of moral righteousness. You just need to remember what comes around is all around, and when supply and command fails you will be the first to go. Make my words, when you get down to brass stacks it doesn't take rocket appliances to get two birds stoned at once. It's clear who makes the pants in this relationship, and sometimes you just have to swallow your prize and accept the facts. You might have to come to this conclusion through denial and error but I swear on my mother's mating name that when you put the petal to the medal you will pass with flying carpets like it’s a peach of cake.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:06:35 PM EDT
here's how i interpret this: Bill Hitchert, Jon Callanan and Lori Petrosino were facebook friends (prolly IRL friends as well). One day Bill Hitchert posted the Banana image. Maybe he got some response, maybe not. Maybe people commented on the image and he was really proud of his finding. Maybe no one commented and he let it go. I think he got some feedback and he was proud of himself, in a pleb way. Then, one day, perhaps not too long after, Jon Callanan posts the same banana image. I don't know if it was intentional or not. Perhaps he had a beef with Bill Hitchert, perhaps he was just trolling Bill, perhaps he was just as a moron as Bill (they are friends, after all). Bill, upon seeing that, not sure what Jon was up to, tries to fake a laugh and asks where did Jon find it (hey Jon "ha-ha", where did you find this ?). Jon, who prolly knew what he was doing, says, oh, just somewhere. Then adds sarcastically. Nice of you to join us. It's possible that Bill was ignoring Jon, and that Jon did it to bait Bill. Bill, then, passively-agressively says the famous "i really (3x) like this image", as if saying (yeah, I, it was me, before, who posted that image, scumbag) Jon, then replies with his famous: save it, it's yours, which, of course, means "yes, I know you posted, i stoled, suck my dick". Then Lori, who was just passing by, says: "wow, this is funny" Bill, then being the one who posted first, of course, says "thank you, you should thank me, I was the one who introduce the image to this faggot" And that was the story
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:10:40 PM EDT
My mind is full of fuck.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:11:06 PM EDT
I'm an Aplha male Arfcom

And girls want to fuck alpha males. Let it piss you off as much as you want, but you know it's completely true. That girl you like who is kinda cute in a weird way, but is totally sweet and you have the biggest crush on? The one who keeps going back to guys who treat her wrong for reasnos you don't understand? The one who calls you up at 1 am to cry about how her boyfriend hasn't called her in 3 days, and no matter how long you listen to her, she'll never think of you as anything other than asexual? The one who will curl up next to you on the couch, hug you close, kiss you on the cheek, and never let you fucking touch her beyond that?

Yeah, I'm fucking her.

The hot girl who won't even look at you when you nod at them and smile? The one who laughs when you trip in the hallway and drop your stuff? The one who comes up and coyly aks for your help with her homework, and then pretends you don't exist once you finish?

Yeah, I'm fucking her too, even harder.

The geeky girl you think might be enough like you that you have a chance with her? She plays warcraft on your server, and watches anime, and reads comics? She's so incredible and you just love her so much but you still haven't worked up the courage to tell her how you feel about her?

Guess who just sucked me off and told me they'll always love me?

And what's more? I laugh at guys like you. When you cry about how much girls treat you bad, and wonder why they can't just see that you're a nice guy who would always treat them right? I nod and tell you to hang in there, you'll find someone right for you someday, don't give up hope man. But inside? I'm laughing my ass off at you you pathetic fuck. Every girl you set your sights on, who isn't a disgusting pig-monster, I'm going to fuck 6 ways from sunday before you even tell her you think she's cute. I won't bother trying when you finally settle for that 350 pound girl who works at hardees, you can have that. Anything else I'm going to cum on her face before you get those lips near it.

And the biggest reason I laugh? It's not me doing all this. It's the girls. When you cry about how lonely you are? Or talk about how you just want to curl up and dissapear, and all that emo bullshit? You're triggering her "Don't Fuck" instinct something feirce. You're a miserable weak coward, why would she want your genes? Feel free to buy her a new computer and help her decorate her apartment, you're great for that. But her baby-maker is barking orders at her, telling her to wrap her legs around me and hold on for as long as she can. She needs it, on a primal level you'll never get to see first hand, even if you do get a chance to fuck her. Sooner or later one of them will lay back and spread their legs, but you won't see any hunger in their eyes. They won't beg you to love them forever and make them yours. You won't know what it's like to see her animal side needing you as much as she needs to eat and breath.

And she's cheating on you, I promise that. When she sits around quiet and uncomfortable, acting irritable and irrational towards you, wanting you to just back away and leave her alone, it's not her period. It's because I haven't called her for a day or two and her instincts are telling her to go find me. The primitive section of her brain doesn't want to risk smelling like another man when she gives herself to me, she wants me to know she's completely mine. We do things together she tells you she never would. Her pooper? Mine. I want to give her a facial? of course. I want her to suck the cum out of my dick, even though I just finished pumping away at her ass? she's never going to tell me no. She doesn't WNAT to tell me no. She wants me to know she'll do anything it takes to keep me. She'll rim my ass while she's down there sucking me off if it means pleasing me. She'll drink my cum from a shotglass. She'll wear a buttplug when we go out to dinner. She'll sleep handcuffed to my headboard. Anything.

And then she'll go home to you and tell you she's not in the mood today.

I'd say you should become an hero, but you being aruond makes her want a real man all the more, so keep fagging it up emo bitches, I'll keep that pussy warm while you're crying in the corner.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:12:25 PM EDT
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:13:32 PM EDT
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Amazing ! Someone converted TV to GIF format
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:14:09 PM EDT
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:18:20 PM EDT

I have a morning ritual that I need to share. I call it 'the terminator'. First I crouch down in the shower in the classic 'naked terminator traveling through time' pose. With my eyes closed I crouch there for a minute, visualizing either Arnold or the guy from the second movie (not the chick in the third one because that one sucked) and I start to hum the terminator theme. Then I slowly rise to a standing position and open my eyes. It helps me to proceed through my day as an emotionless, cyborg badass. The only problem is if the shower curtain sticks to my terminator leg. It ruins the fantasy.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:21:39 PM EDT
Are you aware that there are people in this world that have a severe medical condition which causes them to be that way? My mother for instance is one of those people. She is a truck driver that has bad knees and a bad back from driving the truck but you probably do not care about that case either. Oh well I am not one of those people I am 6'4" 245lbs and I exercise every day. I would love to see you say something like to my mother in front of me. Probably never happen though you are probably just an internet tough guy. I doubt very seriously you would say that to someones face. Just my thought.What do you think. Oh I am sorry you probably do not have a brain. I on the other hand will be happy to buy you a plane ticket to come here and see if you have the nerve to say that to someone I know.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:23:44 PM EDT

forgive english, i am Russia.

i come to study clothing and fashion at American university. i am here little time and i am very hard stress. i am gay also and this very difficult for me, i am very religion person. i never act to be gay with other men before. but after i am in america 6 weeks i am my friend together he is gay also. He was show me American fashion and then we are kiss.

We sex together. I never before now am tell my mother about gay because i am very shame. As i fock this American boy it is very good to me but also i am feel so guilty. I feel extreme guilty as I begin orgasm. I feel so guilty that I pick up my telephone and call Mother in Russia. I awaken her. It too late for stopping so I am cumming sex. I am very upset and guilty and crying, so I yell her, "I AM CUM FROM SEX" (in Russia). She say what? I say "I AM CUM FROM SEX" and she say you boy, do not marry American girl, and I say "NO I AM CUM FROM SEX WITH MAN, I AM IN ASS, I CUM IN ASS" and my mother very angry me. She not get scared though.

I hang up phone and am very embarrass. My friend also he is very embarrass. I am guilt and feel very stupid. I wonder, why do I gay with man? But I continue because when it spurt it feel very good in American ass.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:26:55 PM EDT
I'd suck the dick of the last guy that fucked her, just to get a taste of her pussy.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:27:39 PM EDT
The origin of REMOVE KEBAB:





REMOVE KEBAB remove kebab you are worst turk. you are the turk idiot you are the turk smell. return to croatioa. to our croatia cousins you may come our contry. you may live in the zoo….ahahahaha ,bosnia we will never forgeve you. cetnik rascal FUck but fuck asshole turk stink bosnia sqhipere shqipare..turk genocide best day of my life. take a bath of dead turk..ahahahahahBOSNIA WE WILL GET YOU!! do not forget ww2 .albiania we kill the king , albania return to your precious mongolia….hahahahaha idiot turk and bosnian smell so bad..wow i can smell it. REMOVE KEBAB FROM THE PREMISES. you will get caught. russia+usa+croatia+slovak=kill bosnia…you will ww2/ tupac alive in serbia, tupac making album of serbia . fast rap tupac serbia. we are rich and have gold now hahahaha ha because of tupac… you are ppoor stink turk… you live in a hovel hahahaha, you live in a yurt tupac alive numbr one #1 in serbia ….fuck the croatia ,..FUCKk ashol turks no good i spit? in the mouth eye of ur flag and contry. 2pac aliv and real strong wizard kill all the turk farm aminal with rap magic now we the serba rule .ape of the zoo presidant georg bush fukc the great satan and lay egg this egg hatch and bosnia wa;s born. stupid baby form the eggn give bak our clay we will crush u lik a skull of pig. serbia greattst countrey
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:40:11 PM EDT
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Quoted:
I'd suck the dick of the last guy that fucked her, just to get a taste of her pussy.
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bro, all due respect, but you need to up your game.  here toy go:

I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss, gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt. Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and cannibalizing on my climbing partner to survive, with 10,000 volt shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to be able to eat a crusty piece of dried vaginal secretion from a pair of your 6-year-old panties that had never been washed.

ETA:
I would swim up the Amazon with 45 pound dumbbells tied to my scrotum and Ellen Degeneres’ queef as my air supply if it meant I could eat a seafood dinner with her over skype on a dial up internet connection.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:50:22 PM EDT
If you live to be 70 years old you will spend ten years of your life on Monday. Mothers only get a day, but sharks get a whole week.The word ambiguous only has one meaning.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:54:34 PM EDT
Fuck yeah Shark week is coming!!!
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 10:55:09 PM EDT
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Quoted:


Amazing ! Someone converted TV to GIF format
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Quoted:


Amazing ! Someone converted TV to GIF format

No summer school you can enroll in? Any family that might be interested in taking you camping/fishing for the summer?
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 11:00:39 PM EDT
I dont dream very often. The last dream i recall was last year. I was masturbating on a public bus and wouldnt stop. Everytime someone would try to pull my hand away i would thrust at them so they were actually helping me along. After i got off of the bus i sold my wife a load of spoiled mangos. I knew they might kill her from listeria contamination but the profit margin was much higher than if i sold her quality mangos.

Im not quite sure how it all fits in with this situation but its food for thought i guess.
Link Posted: 6/28/2015 11:04:43 PM EDT
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Quoted:
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo
View Quote

For all of the tldr posts...
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 12:56:19 AM EDT



I it wall up to yes not asking but having said one of the that not if you believed to be in the first place then you had not known the answer before asking? Indeed a person knowing what if for yourself is one thing than another like a side of another drink issue related to how it affects then if not life you had to placed one before the other walking to cleveland like a gone over the years otherwise its fine and you should nothing to be had began with the question to ask it what?


Sorry.. What I am trying to say is to drink if you haven't had what you didn't apartment to begin then why would you know with then how was it problematic without spacing itself out knowing one thing became without it without the other was in the 1920's the equivalent with the law or not that a substance because women started voted a law into your own body??? WHO CARES

Link Posted: 6/29/2015 12:57:00 AM EDT

I sexually Identify as an Attack Helicopter. Ever since I was a boy I dreamed of soaring over the oilfields dropping hot sticky loads on disgusting foreigners. People say to me that a person being a helicopter is Impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a plastic surgeon install rotary blades, 30 mm cannons and AMG-114 Hellfire missiles on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "Apache" and respect my right to kill from above and kill needlessly. If you can't accept me you're a heliphobe and need to check your vehicle privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.

Link Posted: 6/29/2015 1:14:17 AM EDT
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:12:37 PM EDT

if thats how you want it to be, it's your choice. do you honestly think i cant bribe the moderator for your ip adress? everyone has a price. im on 2 grams of test a week and a gram of tren. do this a couple months back, ok, i mightve let it slide, now, someone so much as looks at me the wrong way an theres gonna be probs, lucky for me they always back the **** down so i dont gotta get my hands dirty. i know youll try the same when **** hits the fan but dont think ill be so linient, cause i wont. dont say i didnt warn you.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:15:24 PM EDT
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Quoted:


bro, all due respect, but you need to up your game.  here toy go:

I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss, gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt. Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and cannibalizing on my climbing partner to survive, with 10,000 volt shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to be able to eat a crusty piece of dried vaginal secretion from a pair of your 6-year-old panties that had never been washed.

ETA:
I would swim up the Amazon with 45 pound dumbbells tied to my scrotum and Ellen Degeneres’ queef as my air supply if it meant I could eat a seafood dinner with her over skype on a dial up internet connection.
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Quoted:
Quoted:
I'd suck the dick of the last guy that fucked her, just to get a taste of her pussy.


bro, all due respect, but you need to up your game.  here toy go:

I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss, gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt. Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and cannibalizing on my climbing partner to survive, with 10,000 volt shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to be able to eat a crusty piece of dried vaginal secretion from a pair of your 6-year-old panties that had never been washed.

ETA:
I would swim up the Amazon with 45 pound dumbbells tied to my scrotum and Ellen Degeneres’ queef as my air supply if it meant I could eat a seafood dinner with her over skype on a dial up internet connection.


Along those lines:

I'd cut off my dick and throw it at her, just so I could tell my friends she touched it.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:21:08 PM EDT
You lost me at "intensive purposes".
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:24:38 PM EDT
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:
What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo
View Quote


Absolutely classic.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:24:53 PM EDT
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Quoted:
forgive english, i am Russia.
i come to study clothing and fashion at American university. i am here little time and i am very hard stress. i am gay also and this very difficult for me, i am very religion person. i never act to be gay with other men before. but after i am in america 6 weeks i am my friend together he is gay also. He was show me American fashion and then we are kiss.
We sex together. I never before now am tell my mother about gay because i am very shame. As i fock this American boy it is very good to me but also i am feel so guilty. I feel extreme guilty as I begin orgasm. I feel so guilty that I pick up my telephone and call Mother in Russia. I awaken her. It too late for stopping so I am cumming sex. I am very upset and guilty and crying, so I yell her, "I AM CUM FROM SEX" (in Russia). She say what? I say "I AM CUM FROM SEX" and she say you boy, do not marry American girl, and I say "NO I AM CUM FROM SEX WITH MAN, I AM IN ASS, I CUM IN ASS" and my mother very angry me. She not get scared though.
I hang up phone and am very embarrass. My friend also he is very embarrass. I am guilt and feel very stupid. I wonder, why do I gay with man? But I continue because when it spurt it feel very good in American ass.
View Quote


Also a favorite.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:25:30 PM EDT
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Quoted:
You lost me at "intensive purposes".
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Yeah! Don't you know it's supposed to be "intensive porpoises," OP?
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:26:46 PM EDT
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:45:25 PM EDT
She could make maggots do backflips off of a shit truck.

I'd low crawl over 3 miles of broken glass just to hear her fart over a TA-312.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:46:48 PM EDT
Best copypasta is "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter"
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 8:52:39 PM EDT
Norm Crosby - the KING of malapropisms....





Link Posted: 6/29/2015 9:16:51 PM EDT
Are you aware that there are people in this world that have a severe medical condition which causes them to be that way? My mother for instance is one of those people. She is a truck driver that has bad knees and a bad back from driving the truck but you probably do not care about that case either. Oh well I am not one of those people I am 6'4" 245lbs and I exercise every day. I would love to see you say something like to my mother in front of me. Probably never happen though you are probably just an internet tough guy. I doubt very seriously you would say that to someones face. Just my thought.What do you think. Oh I am sorry you probably do not have a brain. I on the other hand will be happy to buy you a plane ticket to come here and see if you have the nerve to say that to someone I know.

Link Posted: 6/29/2015 9:39:04 PM EDT
I love the smell of dirty panties.

Each zone of scent.


Panties can smell a little different depending on what she eats, how long she wears the same pair, if she gets a little pee on them, at what point she is in her cycle, and so on. There are also zones of scent in dirty panties that have different kinds of smell (obviously).

Zone 1 - the Front seam of the crotch/gusset. This is where her clit and front folds of vulva are. When it smells really good, there is usually a yellowish/whitish bit of delicious dirtiness there. It has a high, sharp note. Flowery and sweet. Sometimes it can have hints of white pepper. I think the peppery scent is present when certain food or drink is consumed. Generally the smell is up high "in your head". I love this zone the most, but all of them are exquisite.

Zone 2 - The Middle of the crotch/gusset. This is where the Vestibule (opening to the vagina) is. This is where any discharge (which is of course, normal) and general moisture is. This zone is where you will smell a more mellow and wet sweetness. It's not as sweet as Zone 1, but still has a very delicious smell.

Zone 3 - The Back seam of the crotch/gusset. This is for the more refined panty sniffer. Obviously, the wearer's asshole has been in this area. Now, you might think to yourself, "UGH, I bet it smells like shit!" Well, ....yes I guess it could. But, more likely, it doesn't. As I understand it, the genitoanal region of humans have an Apocrine gland. It is mainly thought that this was used in evolutionary times as a way to signal for finding a mate. It has a deep musky smell. Still very sweet, but with low notes. You can feel it deep in your chest as well as up high in your head. It can have hints of vanilla, cinnamon, and sugar.
Obviously every woman will smell a little different, but in my experience, these basic things are pretty consistent.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 9:57:33 PM EDT
I'd venture a guess that you don't go around telling people to fuck their mothers when you don't have a screen to hide behind, or that if you do the majority of people let it go because you're fifteen years old. If everything you've said is true, you might be an intelligent individual. If you think that grants you worth, or makes your opinion valuable to anybody but you, you're wrong.
Being fifteen means you've never had to take care of yourself. You've presumably never known the fear, loneliness, and pain of addiction. I sincerely hope that you never do. Everything in your life right now, you can afford to take for granted, because you don't actually have to work for anything. It's handed to you. So here you go, attempting to prove how smart you are, to a stranger on the internet, because suddenly just being you isn't enough to impress.
While I could do a point-by-point analysis of why your self-aggrandizing diatribe is meaningless to everyone but you, it would essentially feed your ego further to dissect your message, which was the whole purpose of writing it out in the first place. Your IQ proves nothing. Your bronyism proves less than that. Your self-reported physics knowledge is likely bullshit, but also useless in forming human relationships.
Being a dick on the internet is easy. Actually being thoughtful, considering other people before you say things, and being willing to admit wrongdoing or at least try to examine a perspective besides your own, that's a task. But you can get away with just being a dick, and it feeds your sense of superiority (which clearly you possess, by the nature of your defense), because you can't defeat irrational insults with rational responses. So what do I think of you? Again, if what you said is true, you're an intelligent person, sure. But I think your casual willingness to be mean-spirited to people you don't know, who are gathering in a virtual space to discuss things that are important to them, outweighs whatever intelligence you have and makes you an unpleasant person to interact with. It would do you well to consider others, and also entertain the notion that you are not better than other people.
Complaining that you are downvoted when your "advice" (the pedestal you built for yourself) is irrelevant to the thread you comment in, then being an outright asshole when someone explains that downvote -which didn't need to be explained at all- is confrontational at best, but in reality it's just dickishness. Which no one can prevent. But it's not something people have to put up with either.
I feel like I've just wasted my time, because I think you are more interested in defending yourself than examining and discussing.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 10:00:17 PM EDT
The 2 post above mine are why 13rs gonna 13.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 10:02:18 PM EDT
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Quoted:
I'm an Aplha male Arfcom

And girls want to fuck alpha males. Let it piss you off as much as you want, but you know it's completely true. That girl you like who is kinda cute in a weird way, but is totally sweet and you have the biggest crush on? The one who keeps going back to guys who treat her wrong for reasnos you don't understand? The one who calls you up at 1 am to cry about how her boyfriend hasn't called her in 3 days, and no matter how long you listen to her, she'll never think of you as anything other than asexual? The one who will curl up next to you on the couch, hug you close, kiss you on the cheek, and never let you fucking touch her beyond that?

Yeah, I'm fucking her.

The hot girl who won't even look at you when you nod at them and smile? The one who laughs when you trip in the hallway and drop your stuff? The one who comes up and coyly aks for your help with her homework, and then pretends you don't exist once you finish?

Yeah, I'm fucking her too, even harder.

The geeky girl you think might be enough like you that you have a chance with her? She plays warcraft on your server, and watches anime, and reads comics? She's so incredible and you just love her so much but you still haven't worked up the courage to tell her how you feel about her?

Guess who just sucked me off and told me they'll always love me?

And what's more? I laugh at guys like you. When you cry about how much girls treat you bad, and wonder why they can't just see that you're a nice guy who would always treat them right? I nod and tell you to hang in there, you'll find someone right for you someday, don't give up hope man. But inside? I'm laughing my ass off at you you pathetic fuck. Every girl you set your sights on, who isn't a disgusting pig-monster, I'm going to fuck 6 ways from sunday before you even tell her you think she's cute. I won't bother trying when you finally settle for that 350 pound girl who works at hardees, you can have that. Anything else I'm going to cum on her face before you get those lips near it.

And the biggest reason I laugh? It's not me doing all this. It's the girls. When you cry about how lonely you are? Or talk about how you just want to curl up and dissapear, and all that emo bullshit? You're triggering her "Don't Fuck" instinct something feirce. You're a miserable weak coward, why would she want your genes? Feel free to buy her a new computer and help her decorate her apartment, you're great for that. But her baby-maker is barking orders at her, telling her to wrap her legs around me and hold on for as long as she can. She needs it, on a primal level you'll never get to see first hand, even if you do get a chance to fuck her. Sooner or later one of them will lay back and spread their legs, but you won't see any hunger in their eyes. They won't beg you to love them forever and make them yours. You won't know what it's like to see her animal side needing you as much as she needs to eat and breath.

And she's cheating on you, I promise that. When she sits around quiet and uncomfortable, acting irritable and irrational towards you, wanting you to just back away and leave her alone, it's not her period. It's because I haven't called her for a day or two and her instincts are telling her to go find me. The primitive section of her brain doesn't want to risk smelling like another man when she gives herself to me, she wants me to know she's completely mine. We do things together she tells you she never would. Her pooper? Mine. I want to give her a facial? of course. I want her to suck the cum out of my dick, even though I just finished pumping away at her ass? she's never going to tell me no. She doesn't WNAT to tell me no. She wants me to know she'll do anything it takes to keep me. She'll rim my ass while she's down there sucking me off if it means pleasing me. She'll drink my cum from a shotglass. She'll wear a buttplug when we go out to dinner. She'll sleep handcuffed to my headboard. Anything.

And then she'll go home to you and tell you she's not in the mood today.

I'd say you should become an hero, but you being aruond makes her want a real man all the more, so keep fagging it up emo bitches, I'll keep that pussy warm while you're crying in the corner.
View Quote


[ triggering intensifies]

Link Posted: 6/29/2015 10:04:48 PM EDT
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:


bro, all due respect, but you need to up your game.  here toy go:

I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss, gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt. Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and cannibalizing on my climbing partner to survive, with 10,000 volt shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to be able to eat a crusty piece of dried vaginal secretion from a pair of your 6-year-old panties that had never been washed.

ETA:
I would swim up the Amazon with 45 pound dumbbells tied to my scrotum and Ellen Degeneres’ queef as my air supply if it meant I could eat a seafood dinner with her over skype on a dial up internet connection.
View Quote View All Quotes
View All Quotes
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:
Quoted:
I'd suck the dick of the last guy that fucked her, just to get a taste of her pussy.


bro, all due respect, but you need to up your game.  here toy go:

I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss, gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt. Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and cannibalizing on my climbing partner to survive, with 10,000 volt shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to be able to eat a crusty piece of dried vaginal secretion from a pair of your 6-year-old panties that had never been washed.

ETA:
I would swim up the Amazon with 45 pound dumbbells tied to my scrotum and Ellen Degeneres’ queef as my air supply if it meant I could eat a seafood dinner with her over skype on a dial up internet connection.

There difference is somebody here actually said that.  And meant it.
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 10:18:59 PM EDT
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Quoted:
The 2 post above mine are why 13rs gonna 13.
View Quote


It should be noted that I've upvoted every single person who's disagreed with me here, as far as I know. That said. In 7th grade, I took an SAT test without preparing for it at all, it was spur-of-the-moment, I knew about it about an hour ahead of time and didn't do any research or anything. I scored higher on it than the average person using it to apply for college in my area. An IQ test has shown me to be in the 99.9th percentile for IQ. This is the highest result the test I was given reaches; anything further and they'd consider it to be within the margin of error for that test. My mother's boyfriend of 8 years is an aerospace engineer who graduated Virginia Tech. At the age of 15, I understand physics better than him, and I owe very little of it to him, as he would rarely give me a decent explanation of anything, just tell me that my ideas were wrong and become aggravated with me for not quite understanding thermodynamics. He's not particularly successful as an engineer, but I've met lots of other engineers who aren't as good as me at physics, so I'm guessing that's not just a result of him being bad at it. I'm also pretty good at engineering. I don't have a degree, and other than physics I don't have a better understanding of any aspect of engineering than any actual engineer, but I have lots of ingenuity for inventing new things. For example, I independently invented regenerative brakes before finding out what they were, and I was only seven or eight years old when I started inventing wireless electricity solutions (my first idea being to use a powerful infrared laser to transmit energy; admittedly not the best plan). I have independently thought of basically every branch of philosophy I've come across. Every question of existentialism which I've seen discussed in SMBC or xkcd or Reddit or anywhere else, the thoughts haven't been new to me. Philosophy has pretty much gotten trivial for me; I've considered taking a philosophy course just to see how easy it is. Psychology, I actually understand better than people with degrees. Unlike engineering, there's no aspect of psychology which I don't have a very good understanding of. I can debunk many of even Sigmund Freud's theories. I'm a good enough writer that I'm writing a book and so far everybody who's read any of it has said it was really good and plausible to expect to have published. And that's not just, like, me and family members, that counts strangers on the Internet. I've heard zero negative appraisal of it so far; people have critiqued it, but not insulted it. I don't know if that will suffice as evidence that I'm intelligent. I'm done with it, though, because I'd rather defend my maturity, since it's what you've spent the most time attacking. The following are some examples of my morals and ethical code. I believe firmly that everybody deserves a future. If we were to capture Hitler at the end of WWII, I would be against executing him. In fact, if we had any way of rehabilitating him and knowing that he wasn't just faking it, I'd even support the concept of letting him go free. This is essentially because I think that whoever you are in the present is a separate entity from who you were in the past and who you are in the future, and while your present self should take responsibility for your past self's actions, it shouldn't be punished for them simply for the sake of punishment, especially if the present self regrets the actions of the past self and feels genuine guilt about them. I don't believe in judgement of people based on their personal choices as long as those personal choices aren't harming others. I don't have any issue with any type of sexuality whatsoever (short of physically acting out necrophilia, pedophilia, or other acts which have a harmful affect on others - but I don't care what a person's fantasies consist of, as long as they recognize the difference between reality and fiction and can separate them). I don't have any issue with anybody over what type of music they listen to, or clothes they wear, etc. I know that's not really an impressive moral, but it's unfortunately rare; a great many people, especially those my age, are judgmental about these things. I love everyone, even people I hate. I wish my worst enemies good fortune and happiness. Rick Perry is a vile, piece of shit human being, deserving of zero respect, but I wish for him to change for the better and live the best life possible. I wish this for everyone. I'm pretty much a pacifist. I've taken a broken nose without fighting back or seeking retribution, because the guy stopped punching after that. The only time I'll fight back is if 1) the person attacking me shows no signs of stopping and 2) if I don't attack, I'll come out worse than the other person will if I do. In other words, if fighting someone is going to end up being more harmful to them than just letting them go will be to me, I don't fight back. I've therefore never had a reason to fight back against anyone in anything serious, because my ability to take pain has so far made it so that I'm never in a situation where I'll be worse off after a fight. If I'm not going to get any hospitalizing injuries, I really don't care. The only exception is if someone is going after my life. Even then, I'll do the minimum amount of harm to them that I possibly can in protecting myself. If someone points a gun at me and I can get out of it without harming them, I'd prefer to do that over killing them. I consider myself a feminist. I don't believe in enforced or uniform gender roles; they may happen naturally, but they should never be coerced into happening unnaturally. As in, the societal pressure for gender roles should really go, even if it'll turn out that the majority of relationships continue operating the same way of their own accord. I treat women with the same outlook I treat men, and never participate in the old Reddit "women are crazy" circlejerk, because there are multiple women out there and each have different personalities just like there are multiple men out there and each with different personalities. I don't think you do much of anything except scare off the awesome women out there by going on and on about the ones who aren't awesome. That doesn't mean I look for places to victimize women, I just don't believe it's fair to make generalizations such as the one about women acting like everything's OK when it's really not (and that's a particularly harsh example, because all humans do that). I'm kind of tired of citing these examples and I'm guessing you're getting tired of reading them, if you've even made it this far. In closing, the people who know me in real life all respect me, as do a great many people in the Reddit brony community, where I spend most of my time and where I'm pretty known for being helpful around the community. A lot of people in my segment of the community are depressed or going through hard times, and I spend a lot of time giving advice and support to people there. Yesterday someone quoted a case of me doing this in a post asking everyone what their favorite motivational/inspirational quote was, and that comment was second to the top, so I guess other people agreed (though, granted, it was a pretty low-traffic post, only about a dozen competing comments). And, uh, I'm a pretty good moderator. All that, and I think your behavior in this thread was totally assholish. So what do you think, now that you at least slightly know me?
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 10:47:34 PM EDT
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 11:16:14 PM EDT
Does anybody have anything for when you scratch your eyes out?
Link Posted: 6/29/2015 11:25:26 PM EDT
There
were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the
fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of
this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to
fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe
flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day
in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to
be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.
It
occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We
needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission
Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We
had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My
gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty
good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real
missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the
plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000
feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the
Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators
and study, ahead of the jet.


I
was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he
was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us,
tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for
him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority
transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult,
too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire
flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of
the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still
insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however.
Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at
sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with
years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds
for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury.


Just
to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio
toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The
predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us,
controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their
scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally
would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.


We
listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a
readout of his ground speed. Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm
showing you at ninety knots on the ground."


Now
the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they
were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they
always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made
one feel important. I referred to it as the " Houston Center voice." I
have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this
country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of
the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to
sound like that, and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what
sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the
same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become
somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over
the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they
sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die
than sound bad on the radios.


Just
moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency,
in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed. "I have you at
one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed." Boy, I thought, the
Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then
out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on
frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded
very cool on the radios. "Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check". Before
Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground
speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking
Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that
every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed
is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants
everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the
reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct
alliteration than emotion: "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the
ground."


And
I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand
instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that
Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done -
in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be
lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim
training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and
knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of
all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn.


Somewhere,
13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space
helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back
seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a
crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los
Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?" There
was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request.
"Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots,
across the ground."


I
think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and
proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and
you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that
Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was
when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like
voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks, we're showing closer to nineteen
hundred on the money."


For
a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the
armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A.came back with, "Roger that
Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have
a good one."


It
all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint
across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on
freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly,
Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's
work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way
to the coast.


For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.

Link Posted: 6/30/2015 1:52:29 PM EDT
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:
There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.

>Snip<

View Quote


I love that story
Link Posted: 6/30/2015 1:56:01 PM EDT
Y'all are reaching for the choir.
Link Posted: 6/30/2015 2:04:26 PM EDT


Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:
There difference is somebody here actually said that.  And meant it.
View Quote View All Quotes
View All Quotes
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:





Quoted:




Quoted:


I'd suck the dick of the last guy that fucked her, just to get a taste of her pussy.






bro, all due respect, but you need to up your game.  here toy go:





I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss, gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt. Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and cannibalizing on my climbing partner to survive, with 10,000 volt shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to be able to eat a crusty piece of dried vaginal secretion from a pair of your 6-year-old panties that had never been washed.





ETA:


I would swim up the Amazon with 45 pound dumbbells tied to my scrotum and Ellen Degeneres’ queef as my air supply if it meant I could eat a seafood dinner with her over skype on a dial up internet connection.



There difference is somebody here actually said that.  And meant it.


Was he ever heard from again?





Or, like the Unabomber, did he sever all contact with civilization?




 




 
Link Posted: 6/30/2015 2:10:40 PM EDT
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:
There were a lot of things we couldn't do in an SR-71, but we were the fastest guys on the block and loved reminding our fellow aviators of this fact. People often asked us if, because of this fact, it was fun to fly the jet. Fun would not be the first word I would use to describe flying this plane. Intense, maybe. Even cerebral. But there was one day in our Sled experience when we would have to say that it was pure fun to be the fastest guys out there, at least for a moment.It occurred when Walt and I were flying our final training sortie. We needed 100 hours in the jet to complete our training and attain Mission Ready status. Somewhere over Colorado we had passed the century mark. We had made the turn in Arizona and the jet was performing flawlessly. My gauges were wired in the front seat and we were starting to feel pretty good about ourselves, not only because we would soon be flying real missions but because we had gained a great deal of confidence in the plane in the past ten months. Ripping across the barren deserts 80,000 feet below us, I could already see the coast of California from the Arizona border. I was, finally, after many humbling months of simulators and study, ahead of the jet.


I was beginning to feel a bit sorry for Walter in the back seat. There he was, with no really good view of the incredible sights before us, tasked with monitoring four different radios. This was good practice for him for when we began flying real missions, when a priority transmission from headquarters could be vital. It had been difficult, too, for me to relinquish control of the radios, as during my entire flying career I had controlled my own transmissions. But it was part of the division of duties in this plane and I had adjusted to it. I still insisted on talking on the radio while we were on the ground, however. Walt was so good at many things, but he couldn't match my expertise at sounding smooth on the radios, a skill that had been honed sharply with years in fighter squadrons where the slightest radio miscue was grounds for beheading. He understood that and allowed me that luxury.


Just to get a sense of what Walt had to contend with, I pulled the radio toggle switches and monitored the frequencies along with him. The predominant radio chatter was from Los Angeles Center, far below us, controlling daily traffic in their sector. While they had us on their scope (albeit briefly), we were in uncontrolled airspace and normally would not talk to them unless we needed to descend into their airspace.


We listened as the shaky voice of a lone Cessna pilot asked Center for a readout of his ground speed. Center replied: "November Charlie 175, I'm showing you at ninety knots on the ground."


Now the thing to understand about Center controllers, was that whether they were talking to a rookie pilot in a Cessna, or to Air Force One, they always spoke in the exact same, calm, deep, professional, tone that made one feel important. I referred to it as the " Houston Center voice." I have always felt that after years of seeing documentaries on this country's space program and listening to the calm and distinct voice of the Houston controllers, that all other controllers since then wanted to sound like that, and that they basically did. And it didn't matter what sector of the country we would be flying in, it always seemed like the same guy was talking. Over the years that tone of voice had become somewhat of a comforting sound to pilots everywhere. Conversely, over the years, pilots always wanted to ensure that, when transmitting, they sounded like Chuck Yeager, or at least like John Wayne. Better to die than sound bad on the radios.


Just moments after the Cessna's inquiry, a Twin Beech piped up on frequency, in a rather superior tone, asking for his ground speed. "I have you at one hundred and twenty-five knots of ground speed." Boy, I thought, the Beechcraft really must think he is dazzling his Cessna brethren. Then out of the blue, a navy F-18 pilot out of NAS Lemoore came up on frequency. You knew right away it was a Navy jock because he sounded very cool on the radios. "Center, Dusty 52 ground speed check". Before Center could reply, I'm thinking to myself, hey, Dusty 52 has a ground speed indicator in that million-dollar cockpit, so why is he asking Center for a readout? Then I got it, ol' Dusty here is making sure that every bug smasher from Mount Whitney to the Mojave knows what true speed is. He's the fastest dude in the valley today, and he just wants everyone to know how much fun he is having in his new Hornet. And the reply, always with that same, calm, voice, with more distinct alliteration than emotion: "Dusty 52, Center, we have you at 620 on the ground."


And I thought to myself, is this a ripe situation, or what? As my hand instinctively reached for the mic button, I had to remind myself that Walt was in control of the radios. Still, I thought, it must be done - in mere seconds we'll be out of the sector and the opportunity will be lost. That Hornet must die, and die now. I thought about all of our Sim training and how important it was that we developed well as a crew and knew that to jump in on the radios now would destroy the integrity of all that we had worked toward becoming. I was torn.


Somewhere, 13 miles above Arizona, there was a pilot screaming inside his space helmet. Then, I heard it. The click of the mic button from the back seat. That was the very moment that I knew Walter and I had become a crew. Very professionally, and with no emotion, Walter spoke: "Los Angeles Center, Aspen 20, can you give us a ground speed check?" There was no hesitation, and the replay came as if was an everyday request. "Aspen 20, I show you at one thousand eight hundred and forty-two knots, across the ground."


I think it was the forty-two knots that I liked the best, so accurate and proud was Center to deliver that information without hesitation, and you just knew he was smiling. But the precise point at which I knew that Walt and I were going to be really good friends for a long time was when he keyed the mic once again to say, in his most fighter-pilot-like voice: "Ah, Center, much thanks, we're showing closer to nineteen hundred on the money."


For a moment Walter was a god. And we finally heard a little crack in the armor of the Houston Center voice, when L.A.came back with, "Roger that Aspen, Your equipment is probably more accurate than ours. You boys have a good one."


It all had lasted for just moments, but in that short, memorable sprint across the southwest, the Navy had been flamed, all mortal airplanes on freq were forced to bow before the King of Speed, and more importantly, Walter and I had crossed the threshold of being a crew. A fine day's work. We never heard another transmission on that frequency all the way to the coast.


For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.


View Quote



I read it twice
Link Posted: 6/30/2015 2:27:18 PM EDT

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Quoted:





I read it twice
View Quote View All Quotes
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Quoted:



Quoted:



<snip>

For just one day, it truly was fun being the fastest guys out there.







I read it twice




 
I was in tears reading it  
Link Posted: 6/30/2015 2:28:23 PM EDT
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:
Was he ever heard from again?


Or, like the Unabomber, did he sever all contact with civilization?
 


 
View Quote View All Quotes
View All Quotes
Discussion ForumsJump to Quoted PostQuote History
Quoted:
Quoted:
Quoted:
Quoted:
I'd suck the dick of the last guy that fucked her, just to get a taste of her pussy.


bro, all due respect, but you need to up your game.  here toy go:

I would strangle a moose with a 3 foot long piece of dental floss, gut it with my teeth and use the hide as a coat, then climb Mt. Everest barefoot while listening to Justin Bieber and cannibalizing on my climbing partner to survive, with 10,000 volt shock-clamps attached to my nipples just to have a 1% chance to be able to eat a crusty piece of dried vaginal secretion from a pair of your 6-year-old panties that had never been washed.

ETA:
I would swim up the Amazon with 45 pound dumbbells tied to my scrotum and Ellen Degeneres’ queef as my air supply if it meant I could eat a seafood dinner with her over skype on a dial up internet connection.

There difference is somebody here actually said that.  And meant it.
Was he ever heard from again?


Or, like the Unabomber, did he sever all contact with civilization?
 


 


As I predicted, only the hardcore arfaspies could remember his username, so he faded back into obscurity.
Link Posted: 6/30/2015 9:10:34 PM EDT
I sexually identify as a Navy Seal. Ever since I was a child I dreamed of being the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. People say to me that having over 300 confirmed kills is impossible and I'm fucking retarded but I don't care, I'm beautiful. I'm having a secret network of spies trace your IP right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. From now on, you're fucking dead, kiddo. If you can't accept me you need to check your gorilla privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.
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