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CoronaVirus MEGA thread - Global Death Toll - 46.2 Million
- Thread starter nazzibastard
- Start date
OP
OP
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usa has already started trials on vaccine ,but australia is ready to do trials on curer ,
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If you get an email titled DING DONG don’t open it, it’s the Jehovah witnesses working from home ..
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Just saying what some Scientist said on television .,..its strange though because that 'food' the chinkys ate which supposedly released this plague has been eaten for eons then all of a sudden ?? there's def more to et
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Thats what Im hearing on blood type. Pretty sure Im a type O.
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O+
* runs out and licks elevator button in defiance
* runs out and licks elevator button in defiance
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Strange, the article also mentions "loss of smell and taste" as another symptom.
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- meltdown
Nice new avatar, Bastard.
In other news, I've died before - you've all seen the scars, even the one that came with my circumcision. Remember this: no more worries about problems that immediately disappear. I mean it. Play your hands as well as you can, ultra-conservative without bending a single rule or hunch of yours. Loosen up a little about the thought of dying, it ain't so bad, really.
Maybe running a small Meltdown tournament, voted on by our readers, may produce some creative entertainment if your other outlets have closed or gotten old a lot sooner than you assumed. Pfft, that shit's already happened to me. When I hop on over here I see that I'm the only enrolled bastard with enough sense to come by to drop a shit...
SSS
- got any extra TP?
In other news, I've died before - you've all seen the scars, even the one that came with my circumcision. Remember this: no more worries about problems that immediately disappear. I mean it. Play your hands as well as you can, ultra-conservative without bending a single rule or hunch of yours. Loosen up a little about the thought of dying, it ain't so bad, really.
Maybe running a small Meltdown tournament, voted on by our readers, may produce some creative entertainment if your other outlets have closed or gotten old a lot sooner than you assumed. Pfft, that shit's already happened to me. When I hop on over here I see that I'm the only enrolled bastard with enough sense to come by to drop a shit...
SSS
- got any extra TP?
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- East of the Rockies West of the rest
Hey SSS you said you died before. Holy fuck I thought I was the only one.
errr... wait a minute .... You are talking about a previous life right?
Or maybe not... don't matter I'll be there again and again. lol
errr... wait a minute .... You are talking about a previous life right?
Or maybe not... don't matter I'll be there again and again. lol
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What if this is all a hoax to keep people inside cos aliens are approaching!.
OP
OP
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Well i am good then i have planty
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god, we can only wish and hope
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no wonder mayor deblasio lost his shit eating grin
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Gov. Cuomo is expecting the virus to peak right around Easter. The same period of time DT says everything should be back to normal. Who do you believe?
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HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!! :LMAO2:
Sadly, if shit gets worse, fuckers gonna be doing that shit.
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I have something I need to tell you anonymous bots about the night before last: I got molested. I did. Not cool, at all.
*deep breath*
Austin, TX is now in full "stay inside or get shot" state. So the night before last was the last night we were all allowed to form small gatherings of fuck-ups and layabouts ready for a legitimate excuse for their lifestyles. Me? Yeah baby, in full asshole form ready for anything interesting to happen. I should've stayed at home under my bed cuddling my shotgun.
So yeah, I drunkenly drove to my tattoo artist's shop that already had bloody footprints on the ceiling. Ladies, too. Good good. So I cockily stroll up to three seats fulla cunt. Oddly, the middle chair was empty. I plop right down in it and start my terrible rigamaroll on both bitches who are frowning back and talking shit - everything going as smoothly as I'd planned.
Then the third walks up and looks down at me, insists I get the fuck outta her seat, blah blah blah (naturally). And I'm just grinning and nodding at her until she paused to breathe and I said "Your seat is still open", patting my lap. She looked insulted, but her friends went 180 and started in on the one still standing and all of a sudden her face changes into a somewhat devilish smile.
She turns around, bends over, and exaggeratedly pushed her flat white ass inches away from my nose. Then sloooowly drops it onto my left leg, and grab my bulge with her left hand so she could still hold whatever the fuck she was drinking with her right. I'd intentionally worn a pair of whitey tighties instead of my usual boxer shorts, and a pair of Luckies that I've had long enough they must've shrunk or something. A quick look in the mirror before taking another shot before hittin' the highway affirmed my status as Action Lump for the night. Big mistake.
She didn't start rolling my jacobs around, or petting my snake; she just held on tightly. For hours! I'm starting to actually lose my unbearable swag and make for it: I popped two buttons under her tits and slide my hand up her chest until I hit bra, wondering what she'd do about it. Nufin', just sat there babbling to no one in particular without her forearm getting tired. So, her bra - nope. It was something I've never come across in all of my breast molesting days.
Advertizement can be so goddamn sneaky that even moral-less scumbags like me can be tricked by it, despite my book I'm writing about how to party/date rape without regret or remorse. It should sell pretty well, I hope. So there's my curious hand grabbing, squeezing foam so thick it may have been torn off those beds you see displayed in the mall. It had to be at least a half-inch thick, so I had to take the better route.
Uncupping that piece of new trap technology, I slid my right hand to the right side of that damnable contraption praying that I could use my thumb, like the pro I am, to unhook/unsnap the bridge before pulling it down. Way down. Nope, I discovered it was behind her. I also noticed that the cloth cup connector was about two fucking inches thick, like women who wear G-cup bras wear out of necessity! What the FUCK was going on here?
My lump was now junk and my hands had forgotten what soft breasts really felt like; large and smooshy or small and firm. My sanity was teetering on full tilt, as in yanking my hand from her foam entrapment and using my left hand to yank the cunt's unkempt dyed rat-roll back and choke her harder than she had been squeezing my nuts with my other. That may have even earned encore of encouraging yells and clapping hands.
Fuck it, I went for the nipple - a task I was looking forward to at first, but a power clamp-n-twist is what I had on my mind by that point. Easy peazy? Nope. Hand slip-proof, an included bonus to whatever that new style bra includes and is undoubtedly warrantied. That's right folks, the bar under and supporting the cup was thick heavy steel. And so tight it caused a mini muffin to bulge right beneath it. Im-fucking-penetrable. Not even gravity could pull down on her tits, let alone my hungry hand.
And it went on. And on. And on until I thought up a great lie and bumped the bitch as hard as I could with my dead left leg and insisted I had to piss. "Then do it! Haaahahahahaaa!" Noooooooooooo! Now I understand, Bro Vader - I really do. Everyone there would've thought it would be hilarious except for me who was quickly becoming the wet towel of the group before even wetting myself.
I became part of a cheap plastic chair that got nasty drank spilled on it multiple times, causing the need for me to go get a sperm count to see if I can still add ruin to this world by reproducing, and change my music from Slayer to some soothing typa meditation crap that makes my face immediately deform.
Pictures were taken. When I knew one was about to eternalize my misery, I forced smiles and pointed in the general direction of what was once my pride and joy. Not so much, anymore. I need a penis therapist, regardless of gender or personal interests. I'd craigslist your mom, wife, or daughter to come breathe some needed life into it; but you know, after I staggered back to my car and cradled up in the backseat, telling myself that my constant sniffling was due to allergies, I'm just putting all my hopes into that old saying that "time can heal wounds - all types."...
SSS
- I'll get back to you guys to let you know if there's any truth behind that foreign babble
*deep breath*
Austin, TX is now in full "stay inside or get shot" state. So the night before last was the last night we were all allowed to form small gatherings of fuck-ups and layabouts ready for a legitimate excuse for their lifestyles. Me? Yeah baby, in full asshole form ready for anything interesting to happen. I should've stayed at home under my bed cuddling my shotgun.
So yeah, I drunkenly drove to my tattoo artist's shop that already had bloody footprints on the ceiling. Ladies, too. Good good. So I cockily stroll up to three seats fulla cunt. Oddly, the middle chair was empty. I plop right down in it and start my terrible rigamaroll on both bitches who are frowning back and talking shit - everything going as smoothly as I'd planned.
Then the third walks up and looks down at me, insists I get the fuck outta her seat, blah blah blah (naturally). And I'm just grinning and nodding at her until she paused to breathe and I said "Your seat is still open", patting my lap. She looked insulted, but her friends went 180 and started in on the one still standing and all of a sudden her face changes into a somewhat devilish smile.
She turns around, bends over, and exaggeratedly pushed her flat white ass inches away from my nose. Then sloooowly drops it onto my left leg, and grab my bulge with her left hand so she could still hold whatever the fuck she was drinking with her right. I'd intentionally worn a pair of whitey tighties instead of my usual boxer shorts, and a pair of Luckies that I've had long enough they must've shrunk or something. A quick look in the mirror before taking another shot before hittin' the highway affirmed my status as Action Lump for the night. Big mistake.
She didn't start rolling my jacobs around, or petting my snake; she just held on tightly. For hours! I'm starting to actually lose my unbearable swag and make for it: I popped two buttons under her tits and slide my hand up her chest until I hit bra, wondering what she'd do about it. Nufin', just sat there babbling to no one in particular without her forearm getting tired. So, her bra - nope. It was something I've never come across in all of my breast molesting days.
Advertizement can be so goddamn sneaky that even moral-less scumbags like me can be tricked by it, despite my book I'm writing about how to party/date rape without regret or remorse. It should sell pretty well, I hope. So there's my curious hand grabbing, squeezing foam so thick it may have been torn off those beds you see displayed in the mall. It had to be at least a half-inch thick, so I had to take the better route.
Uncupping that piece of new trap technology, I slid my right hand to the right side of that damnable contraption praying that I could use my thumb, like the pro I am, to unhook/unsnap the bridge before pulling it down. Way down. Nope, I discovered it was behind her. I also noticed that the cloth cup connector was about two fucking inches thick, like women who wear G-cup bras wear out of necessity! What the FUCK was going on here?
My lump was now junk and my hands had forgotten what soft breasts really felt like; large and smooshy or small and firm. My sanity was teetering on full tilt, as in yanking my hand from her foam entrapment and using my left hand to yank the cunt's unkempt dyed rat-roll back and choke her harder than she had been squeezing my nuts with my other. That may have even earned encore of encouraging yells and clapping hands.
Fuck it, I went for the nipple - a task I was looking forward to at first, but a power clamp-n-twist is what I had on my mind by that point. Easy peazy? Nope. Hand slip-proof, an included bonus to whatever that new style bra includes and is undoubtedly warrantied. That's right folks, the bar under and supporting the cup was thick heavy steel. And so tight it caused a mini muffin to bulge right beneath it. Im-fucking-penetrable. Not even gravity could pull down on her tits, let alone my hungry hand.
And it went on. And on. And on until I thought up a great lie and bumped the bitch as hard as I could with my dead left leg and insisted I had to piss. "Then do it! Haaahahahahaaa!" Noooooooooooo! Now I understand, Bro Vader - I really do. Everyone there would've thought it would be hilarious except for me who was quickly becoming the wet towel of the group before even wetting myself.
I became part of a cheap plastic chair that got nasty drank spilled on it multiple times, causing the need for me to go get a sperm count to see if I can still add ruin to this world by reproducing, and change my music from Slayer to some soothing typa meditation crap that makes my face immediately deform.
Pictures were taken. When I knew one was about to eternalize my misery, I forced smiles and pointed in the general direction of what was once my pride and joy. Not so much, anymore. I need a penis therapist, regardless of gender or personal interests. I'd craigslist your mom, wife, or daughter to come breathe some needed life into it; but you know, after I staggered back to my car and cradled up in the backseat, telling myself that my constant sniffling was due to allergies, I'm just putting all my hopes into that old saying that "time can heal wounds - all types."...
SSS
- I'll get back to you guys to let you know if there's any truth behind that foreign babble
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