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Forums Off Topic 2 foot kid says "Your mum hurts"
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2 foot kid says "Your mum hurts"

Posted on 06 April 2016 - 05:45 AM

Midget Boy: "Dude, your mum hurts, because i did her last night"

Me: "What the fuck u on about 2 foot?"

Midget Boy: "I said your mum hurts, I did her last night."

Me: With ur flat spot? Dude your 2 foot…. My dick's bigger than you…"
Me: "Your fucking insults makes my brain hurt."


What has the world come to?
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Posted on 06 April 2016 - 06:46 AM

yet another relevant post
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Posted on 06 April 2016 - 07:17 AM

Aymbaut wrote

yet another relevant post


Its off topic for a reason smart ass
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Posted on 06 April 2016 - 07:27 AM

By 2100, there will be kids in jail for drugs and kids will be involved in terrorism
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Posted on 06 April 2016 - 04:23 PM

Was this on badlion or irl lol
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Last edited on 06 April 2016 - 08:26 PM by Morsinius

I had a dream last night where I was choked to death. It was a form of reverse surrealism, an imaginative, seemingly boundless dream eventually meeting the closed doors of wicked reality. Yes, please shut the door behind you. You don't want that cat coming in again, do you? This scene took place under a night-clothed tunnel, where that socially-constructed censor watching over human interaction walks away. The midnight gown covers the mundane, but leaves those abstract concepts such as truth bare. Adapted action is absolute absurdity; the dark reveals all. I had an honest struggle with the two men who grabbed me by the neck, but I could hope to do nothing against the power they possessed, gifted by the dream-fueled fixed finale. I woke up after my quasi-death, my head peacefully resting on the kitchen worktop. I did not feel relieved, scared, or anything you would feel after a typical nightmare. No, I cannot go to the movies on Friday night. They say they don't want me patrolling outside at the dead of night. I could only feel uncomfortable, having vividly experienced the struggle against Mors' claws scratching against my Adam's apple. This is your time, this is your life, this is your time, this is your life, this is your time, this is your life. I felt uncomfortable and walked upstairs, my vision tinted the same shade of blue that covered my nighttime memories of early childhood. My siblings were sleeping on my bed, so I dizzily moved with a mannered hobble to my parents' room. My mother was sleeping, but I could feel her wisps of her consciousness looming around the air as if to hold out a hand in a time of need. I woke her up, and as her shadowed figure finally perched itself on an upright pillow, I felt her presence drifting away. She mouthed out some words, but I couldn't quite hear them. I leaned in, telling her to say them again. But the words really did escape my mouth. There was a strange sense of control over those words—not something akin to dominance, but with a sense of self-possession. This time, I really woke up. If the two men taught me anything, it's that the world is stranger than you think it is. You expect some of these things, but a lot of them fly by you. There are some people who want you to notice them, but you don't. It's complicated, just like my struggle with Amanda. You can't trust anyone with your Jaffa cakes, understand? It's three cakes each… you'd be wise to keep them to yourself. Splitting the third cake doesn't work, because we all know how society works. Supply and demand. Inflation and bubble. How dreadful.
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Posted on 06 April 2016 - 09:52 PM

Automatically Deleted
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Posted on 07 April 2016 - 03:56 AM

Morsinius wrote

I had a dream last night where I was choked to death. It was a form of reverse surrealism, an imaginative, seemingly boundless dream eventually meeting the closed doors of wicked reality. Yes, please shut the door behind you. You don't want that cat coming in again, do you? This scene took place under a night-clothed tunnel, where that socially-constructed censor watching over human interaction walks away. The midnight gown covers the mundane, but leaves those abstract concepts such as truth bare. Adapted action is absolute absurdity; the dark reveals all. I had an honest struggle with the two men who grabbed me by the neck, but I could hope to do nothing against the power they possessed, gifted by the dream-fueled fixed finale. I woke up after my quasi-death, my head peacefully resting on the kitchen worktop. I did not feel relieved, scared, or anything you would feel after a typical nightmare. No, I cannot go to the movies on Friday night. They say they don't want me patrolling outside at the dead of night. I could only feel uncomfortable, having vividly experienced the struggle against Mors' claws scratching against my Adam's apple. This is your time, this is your life, this is your time, this is your life, this is your time, this is your life. I felt uncomfortable and walked upstairs, my vision tinted the same shade of blue that covered my nighttime memories of early childhood. My siblings were sleeping on my bed, so I dizzily moved with a mannered hobble to my parents' room. My mother was sleeping, but I could feel her wisps of her consciousness looming around the air as if to hold out a hand in a time of need. I woke her up, and as her shadowed figure finally perched itself on an upright pillow, I felt her presence drifting away. She mouthed out some words, but I couldn't quite hear them. I leaned in, telling her to say them again. But the words really did escape my mouth. There was a strange sense of control over those words—not something akin to dominance, but with a sense of self-possession. This time, I really woke up. If the two men taught me anything, it's that the world is stranger than you think it is. You expect some of these things, but a lot of them fly by you. There are some people who want you to notice them, but you don't. It's complicated, just like my struggle with Amanda. You can't trust anyone with your Jaffa cakes, understand? It's three cakes each… you'd be wise to keep them to yourself. Splitting the third cake doesn't work, because we all know how society works. Supply and demand. Inflation and bubble. How dreadful.




Too much to read omg
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Posted on 07 April 2016 - 03:57 AM

H2Q wrote

By 2100, there will be kids in jail for drugs and kids will be involved in terrorism



Dude your mum hurts ok?
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Posted on 07 April 2016 - 04:58 AM

yep
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Last edited on 07 April 2016 - 12:12 PM by H2Q

KaoticKaos wrote

H2Q wrote...




Dude your mum hurts ok?

at least I have a mum
and btw, u cant do anything to my mum simply because you're young and my mum has higher standards
and we dont do sex before marriage because of pregnancy problems and thats everywhere in usa
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Posted on 07 April 2016 - 01:03 PM

Morsinius wrote

I had a dream last night where I was choked to death. It was a form of reverse surrealism, an imaginative, seemingly boundless dream eventually meeting the closed doors of wicked reality. Yes, please shut the door behind you. You don't want that cat coming in again, do you? This scene took place under a night-clothed tunnel, where that socially-constructed censor watching over human interaction walks away. The midnight gown covers the mundane, but leaves those abstract concepts such as truth bare. Adapted action is absolute absurdity; the dark reveals all. I had an honest struggle with the two men who grabbed me by the neck, but I could hope to do nothing against the power they possessed, gifted by the dream-fueled fixed finale. I woke up after my quasi-death, my head peacefully resting on the kitchen worktop. I did not feel relieved, scared, or anything you would feel after a typical nightmare. No, I cannot go to the movies on Friday night. They say they don't want me patrolling outside at the dead of night. I could only feel uncomfortable, having vividly experienced the struggle against Mors' claws scratching against my Adam's apple. This is your time, this is your life, this is your time, this is your life, this is your time, this is your life. I felt uncomfortable and walked upstairs, my vision tinted the same shade of blue that covered my nighttime memories of early childhood. My siblings were sleeping on my bed, so I dizzily moved with a mannered hobble to my parents' room. My mother was sleeping, but I could feel her wisps of her consciousness looming around the air as if to hold out a hand in a time of need. I woke her up, and as her shadowed figure finally perched itself on an upright pillow, I felt her presence drifting away. She mouthed out some words, but I couldn't quite hear them. I leaned in, telling her to say them again. But the words really did escape my mouth. There was a strange sense of control over those words—not something akin to dominance, but with a sense of self-possession. This time, I really woke up. If the two men taught me anything, it's that the world is stranger than you think it is. You expect some of these things, but a lot of them fly by you. There are some people who want you to notice them, but you don't. It's complicated, just like my struggle with Amanda. You can't trust anyone with your Jaffa cakes, understand? It's three cakes each… you'd be wise to keep them to yourself. Splitting the third cake doesn't work, because we all know how society works. Supply and demand. Inflation and bubble. How dreadful.

same tbh
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Posted on 08 April 2016 - 04:35 AM

This thread LOL…





















It's godly!
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Posted on 09 April 2016 - 02:06 AM

Automatically Deleted
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Posted on 09 April 2016 - 02:09 AM

?
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Posted on 09 April 2016 - 02:10 AM

w5t wrote

ThatMinecrafter wrote...

i reckon an alt account? btw UR comeback make my brain hurt
What did I do wrong?
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Posted on 09 April 2016 - 02:12 AM

Automatically Deleted
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Posted on 09 April 2016 - 02:15 AM

w5t wrote

ThatMinecrafter wrote...

lol sorry i was talking to you main account
This is my main and I have no alts, I only registered yesterday, (I've played badlion for about a year).
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Posted on 09 April 2016 - 02:17 AM

Automatically Deleted
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Posted on 09 April 2016 - 02:19 AM

w5t wrote

ThatMinecrafter wrote...

k dud (;-;)
Who did you think I was in the first place?
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