BigJimsWornOutTires
Kraken
- Joined
- Feb 6, 2021
- Posts
- 20,448
- Reputation
- 22,928
Reading the cesspool forum, @Vermilioncore squirts a subject off the top of his head, "I'm so pathetic why am I so hideous?" Once again, he'd clickbaited a topic open for discussion, articulating it gloomily with a hopeless conclusion. "So I sit here wasting my life away while better-looking guys get what I can never have. I'm done with this. DONE, DAMMIT!"
Ugh. The stench of his shit reeked stronger than the inside of a port-a-potty at a homeless encampment. So many disadvantages with this guy. It's like Nature farted, and Vermy hitchhiked a ride on that vulgar fume into our happy world.
Fifteen minutes past the hour, I skim through more threads. Another user stabs my eyes with his bosh. @AlexBrown84 - The photoshop traveler. So he travels the world in his green-screened basement. He cuts his recorded images and pastes them into festive scenes.
Once, he cropped stacks of cash from a picture he envied on social media, probably from fake gangsters thus rappers, then pasted it into his hands. Ugh. The autistic users were astonished by this playa. Then he glued a live clip of himself, initially sitting on a chair in that sad, smelly cellar into the cockpit of an F-16 fighter jet. It was a jackpot! And so he thought. But YouTube parasites didn't feel the same as the views for that clip stayed under a hundred. However, ninety of those views were from his box of prepaid phones he had scored during dumpster dives. He also has a monthly membership for a proxy service that allows him multiple devices. Clever IP ranger. I have to give him that, at least.
But he got clever! So he begged the people who lived above him for money. The names of these people he never speaks. He calls them, "Those people who live above me." Anyway, they gave him a little money that they thought he'd utilize for some beneficial factor to his pathetic parasitic life. But ugh, they were wrong. He used it to pay Google to advertise his flight fantasy. The views rose to a little over three thousand. Although little did Alex know, Google too has access to IPS, but millions of reserved ones they use to view, like, subscribe to their dupe audience.
But it didn't matter to Alex. He saw what he wanted to see.
It was my time to squeeze one out.
I take in a deep breath and remind myself. "Push but not too hard. Let it slide out:"
Happiness is a state of mind - but can anyone be happy?
Ugh, yes. Exceptional clickbait title...now to begin the dump. Hmm.
Ah! I'll begin it with words of wisdom, then integrate it into a cheap 70s porn stage. Yes! Brilliant. And for the slap across the reader's face, I'll end it with a cliffhanger yet do a CBS midshow cancellation. Thus never finishing the story. EXCELLENT!
Of course, happiness is a state of mind. And anyone can achieve such bliss. You, me...her. Ugh. She was delighted to watch rocking up and down as I observed the curve of her back blend into that big black booty. LaToya.
I had met her a few years back after finishing a workout at the gym. I'd stopped at my preferred fast food joint to get some meat deep inside me. And there she was. That cashier. Light dark skin. Nappy hair in a bun. Gorgeous green eyes. And so I introduced myself. "Triple roast beef." I then winked at her.
She acknowledged on the intercom, "Triple beef!" But instead of asking if I wanted anything else, she gave me that expression of not wasting her breath asking. Her eyebrows elevated. It was as if her facial gesture was the query.
"Um. An ice-cold water." I included. She reached down into her counter below the cash register and returned with a kiddy cup. She slid it to me. Ugh. She spoke my language—the way I like them. Why pay for high-calorie soda when you can save your health by drinking free, lead-filled tap water? "And your lunch hour against that dumpster in the back."
She knew what that meant.
She smiled, peeked at her timepiece, and replied, "An half of hour I go on break but wait," she reached for the cup she gave me and took it back. Then, she turned and faced the food service area. She went into the mini-fridge, retrieved an orange juice, and handed it to me. "I want you tasting sweet. Drink this after you eat."
Ugh. I knew what she meant. Orange juice or any high-natural sugary foods and beverages make a difference in the flavor of cum. And she prefers sucking my dick dry after I nail her high-yellow black pussy to climax. She likes to taste her pussy blended with my flavor. Ugh, disturbed indeed.
STORY FINISHED!
I click Post Thread. Then quickly, I rush to the main page then click off-topics. I see my turd at the top of the list. Sweet. But less than a minute later, it drops to the bottom with zero views. It then vanishes off the page. Ugh. Better luck next time. Another user catches my attention. @Thompsonz Thus Vermy's side-profile.
Yes, the two are the same person. And yes, he converses with himself not only on the threads but also in private messaging. Ugh. I know. So sad. And can you imagine those conversations with himself?
Vermy: Hey, Tommy, your threads are looking good today.
Thompson: Oh, hey, my number one star. You're looking sweet too, I must say.
Vermy: I feel like a loser.
Thompson: Me too. Weird, uh?
Vermy: Yeah. So. Whatcha doing?
So sad to be the admin snooping into his conversations with himself.
And just as my ganglia bowels began warning me it's time for another splatter, @Jamesothy takes a crap. But once again, illustrating the typical behavior pattern of his wordless threads, just a video clip of him babbling to himself sitting in a dirty tub. Not sure what he's saying, though, for my eyes are examining his background and somewhat unsettling to my OCDness. "Is that a piece of fuzz on his floor?? UGH!" Torture.
And so it's time to wipe my conscience asshole and flush this turd of a thread down the Looksmax pipes.
Post thread.
Ugh. The stench of his shit reeked stronger than the inside of a port-a-potty at a homeless encampment. So many disadvantages with this guy. It's like Nature farted, and Vermy hitchhiked a ride on that vulgar fume into our happy world.
Fifteen minutes past the hour, I skim through more threads. Another user stabs my eyes with his bosh. @AlexBrown84 - The photoshop traveler. So he travels the world in his green-screened basement. He cuts his recorded images and pastes them into festive scenes.
Once, he cropped stacks of cash from a picture he envied on social media, probably from fake gangsters thus rappers, then pasted it into his hands. Ugh. The autistic users were astonished by this playa. Then he glued a live clip of himself, initially sitting on a chair in that sad, smelly cellar into the cockpit of an F-16 fighter jet. It was a jackpot! And so he thought. But YouTube parasites didn't feel the same as the views for that clip stayed under a hundred. However, ninety of those views were from his box of prepaid phones he had scored during dumpster dives. He also has a monthly membership for a proxy service that allows him multiple devices. Clever IP ranger. I have to give him that, at least.
But he got clever! So he begged the people who lived above him for money. The names of these people he never speaks. He calls them, "Those people who live above me." Anyway, they gave him a little money that they thought he'd utilize for some beneficial factor to his pathetic parasitic life. But ugh, they were wrong. He used it to pay Google to advertise his flight fantasy. The views rose to a little over three thousand. Although little did Alex know, Google too has access to IPS, but millions of reserved ones they use to view, like, subscribe to their dupe audience.
But it didn't matter to Alex. He saw what he wanted to see.
It was my time to squeeze one out.
I take in a deep breath and remind myself. "Push but not too hard. Let it slide out:"
Happiness is a state of mind - but can anyone be happy?
Ugh, yes. Exceptional clickbait title...now to begin the dump. Hmm.
Ah! I'll begin it with words of wisdom, then integrate it into a cheap 70s porn stage. Yes! Brilliant. And for the slap across the reader's face, I'll end it with a cliffhanger yet do a CBS midshow cancellation. Thus never finishing the story. EXCELLENT!
Of course, happiness is a state of mind. And anyone can achieve such bliss. You, me...her. Ugh. She was delighted to watch rocking up and down as I observed the curve of her back blend into that big black booty. LaToya.
I had met her a few years back after finishing a workout at the gym. I'd stopped at my preferred fast food joint to get some meat deep inside me. And there she was. That cashier. Light dark skin. Nappy hair in a bun. Gorgeous green eyes. And so I introduced myself. "Triple roast beef." I then winked at her.
She acknowledged on the intercom, "Triple beef!" But instead of asking if I wanted anything else, she gave me that expression of not wasting her breath asking. Her eyebrows elevated. It was as if her facial gesture was the query.
"Um. An ice-cold water." I included. She reached down into her counter below the cash register and returned with a kiddy cup. She slid it to me. Ugh. She spoke my language—the way I like them. Why pay for high-calorie soda when you can save your health by drinking free, lead-filled tap water? "And your lunch hour against that dumpster in the back."
She knew what that meant.
She smiled, peeked at her timepiece, and replied, "An half of hour I go on break but wait," she reached for the cup she gave me and took it back. Then, she turned and faced the food service area. She went into the mini-fridge, retrieved an orange juice, and handed it to me. "I want you tasting sweet. Drink this after you eat."
Ugh. I knew what she meant. Orange juice or any high-natural sugary foods and beverages make a difference in the flavor of cum. And she prefers sucking my dick dry after I nail her high-yellow black pussy to climax. She likes to taste her pussy blended with my flavor. Ugh, disturbed indeed.
STORY FINISHED!
I click Post Thread. Then quickly, I rush to the main page then click off-topics. I see my turd at the top of the list. Sweet. But less than a minute later, it drops to the bottom with zero views. It then vanishes off the page. Ugh. Better luck next time. Another user catches my attention. @Thompsonz Thus Vermy's side-profile.
Yes, the two are the same person. And yes, he converses with himself not only on the threads but also in private messaging. Ugh. I know. So sad. And can you imagine those conversations with himself?
Vermy: Hey, Tommy, your threads are looking good today.
Thompson: Oh, hey, my number one star. You're looking sweet too, I must say.
Vermy: I feel like a loser.
Thompson: Me too. Weird, uh?
Vermy: Yeah. So. Whatcha doing?
So sad to be the admin snooping into his conversations with himself.
And just as my ganglia bowels began warning me it's time for another splatter, @Jamesothy takes a crap. But once again, illustrating the typical behavior pattern of his wordless threads, just a video clip of him babbling to himself sitting in a dirty tub. Not sure what he's saying, though, for my eyes are examining his background and somewhat unsettling to my OCDness. "Is that a piece of fuzz on his floor?? UGH!" Torture.
And so it's time to wipe my conscience asshole and flush this turd of a thread down the Looksmax pipes.
Post thread.