hey man it's viper's birthday today be gentle

happy birthday viper

i'm having a hard time believe that anyone would unironically link hlpugs sniper logs to brag
if all u have to brag about are sniper highlander pug logs i feel bad for u

I'm genuinely interested in what goes on in akemi, perfection & friend's home lives that causes them to act like this online

I think I fixed my sleep schedule I'm on it
there's literally 21 matches scheduled for tomorrow if ppl weren't talking about it in this thread i'd have no idea what to watch

http://www.strawpoll.me/15004992

honestly i was totally oblivious to the fact it was valentine's day for the last 3 or so valentine's days

Gen 2 was way better than 3 imo

two games in one and you got follow up on what happened in gen 1

is viaduct upset still on the bingo card

https://clips.twitch.tv/SmoothArtsyClipsdadCharlieBitMe

As I approached the McDonald’s Drive-Thru with the usual sexual anxiety, I drooled at the thought of the warm processed foodstuffs gliding down my hot, wet esophagus, and at the thought of the young, handsome, and burly servicemen inside who would soon grant my every desire for a small price. I was a sucker for a man in uniform, or any man, I suppose. I was deeply hungry in many ways today, but mostly in perverse, sexual ways. “Billions and billions served,” it said on the sign. I wanted to be penetrated in billions and billions of different situations. Most of which involve a penis or two making its summer travel destination a spelunking adventure to my mysterious and well-formed vaginal caverns.

I pulled up to the drive-thru speaker in my off-mahogany 1974 Geo. It’s dying, poorly maintained engine vibrates the entire frame violently, causing nonstop sexual stimulation between my legs as I travel the suburbs in a shroud of sexual bliss and disco era nostalgia.

From the Drive-Thru speaker came a young, shrill, teenage man’s voice: “One moment please.” My eyes rolled into the back of my head in intense pleasure at the sound, his vocal vibrations journeyed through my eardrums and across my neural network like horny pilgrims crossing the Ocean to a new world of young hot dicks.

Oh. How long was “one moment?” I wondered. I felt teased. My already soaked, grey-colored groin area began to grumble impatiently with existential anxiety. How many moments is one? The lady-scientist in me knew that “moment” was not even a proper unit of measurement, so this could go on forever. I remained unfulfilled for what seemed like forever.

“Ok. Sorry about that. What can I get for you today?” the young voice from the speaker finally asked, erotically.

My arm, leg, and pubic hairs shot on end in excitement as if I had walked into a lightning bolt made of fresh, positively charged sky-cum. What can you get for me today? I knew immediately I had been waiting my entire life for a strapping young chap to ask me this, to let me act out my deepest fantasies. What should I do? The obvious choice would be to start masturbating immediately while this moment still existed freshly in my memory with such clarity. I would never get this chance again. I knew not what to do. I began to soil myself gradually.

“Uhh,” I began to mutter, like an in-bred weasel dying of leprosy. Then I remembered I had already written my McDonald’s meal choices on the top of my pale breasts with a black magic marker some weeks earlier because I anticipated that my sexual insatiability would result in an inability to select items from the menu in a timely fashion. I gazed down at them and recalled:

“Ah, it is so. I have chosen hot, golden nuggets. I also choose warm, moist pie. Packaged and prepared by the hands of someone strong and capable,” I asserted.

“Ok you want, 6 piece? Nuggets? And an… apple, pie?” he attempted to confirm, with a mumble through poor stereo quality.

“It would be my utmost and greatest desire.” I said with a whispering and lustful coarseness in my voice like an ovulating Jewish grandmother. I continued:

“And…to wash down this meal, I want only the sweetest liquid a man can give a woman.”

...

“Mountain Dew ok?” asked the voice.

“Yes.” I replied. The metaphor was obvious to all. For what else on a man would be none other than his firm and bountiful mountain? And from such a mighty mountain what could be none other than the sweetest of sweet dews? I couldn’t wait to swallow every drop. If his mountain was Pompeii, then I was an ancient Roman woman, sluttily waiting for him to explode and encase me in his smoldering death cum.

“That’ll be 6.74, pull up to window 2 please.”

“Thank you for your guidance,” I said softly.

one last bump, lf IM to play scout man on

https://clips.twitch.tv/ExquisiteAbnegateScallionVoHiYo

not a stream clip but too good not to post
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zoVpwS-OUSg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpA9raRk43Y

he hasn't changed much

https://i.imgur.com/n3QqfqW.png