KLB Klaagbaak
Klaag maar raak voor een knaak.
Op 
Ik vind het erger dat Fushia2 hier vertelt hoe zijn reet eruitziet.quote:Op zondag 10 mei 2015 03:22 schreef Homijn het volgende:
Waarom klikte ik dit topic aan?
Hoe krijg ik deze halve minuut van mijn leven ooit nog terug?
Is dit niet een beetje een lemming van remlof's plakzak topic?
O really? And why would I care?
000000000010000000000/100101101011110100000/011010011111001110001/110100101101010001001/000011000100101011000/ [2/3]
000000000010000000000/100101101011110100000/011010011111001110001/110100101101010001001/000011000100101011000/ [2/3]
jepquote:Op zaterdag 16 mei 2015 01:08 schreef kaulopopo het volgende:
[..]
Is gewoon een antwoord anders?? Probleem mee??
Oké, ik ben al wegquote:
[..]
beter ga je weg je wilt me niet boos hebben vriend
Stel je voor
*pok pok pôôôk*quote:
Op donderdag 3 maart 2011 19:12 schreef zeross het volgende:
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
quote:
Nu heeft mijn vorige post geen nut meer.
Op donderdag 3 maart 2011 19:12 schreef zeross het volgende:
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
Excuses, was redelijk tegelijkertijd!quote:Op zaterdag 16 mei 2015 01:16 schreef 2dope het volgende:
[..]
I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble ****ting.quote:Op donderdag 7 mei 2015 19:25 schreef Fushia2 het volgende:
mijn reet scheren heb ik 1x gedaan en is fucking veel werk en na een dag jeukt het als de tering
No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my butt-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my buttcheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.
I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my butt of hair. Occasionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My butt was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
Little did I know.
I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two buttcheaks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.
Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic poo- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky ****/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.
Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my butt off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering ****/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my butt cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own ****blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."
Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my butt at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for butt-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my buttcheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.
As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your butt having the texture of a Brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
Guys, DON'T SHAVE YOUR BUTT-HAIR!
Zo'n nasty verhaal dit. Wel classic.quote:
Op donderdag 3 maart 2011 19:12 schreef zeross het volgende:
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
Een Headmax PMX60 Sennheiser Koptelefoon, nieuw in de verpakking, slechts enkele keren gebruikt.
quote:Op zaterdag 16 mei 2015 01:19 schreef Deshain het volgende:
[..]
I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to you, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble ****ting.
No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my butt-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my buttcheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling. Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with some paper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold.
I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey! This is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-Line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my butt of hair. Occasionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair and miscellaneous slime, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn baby. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My butt was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
Little did I know.
I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two buttcheaks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry.
Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic poo- molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky ****/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm.
Unfortunately again, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my butt off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks. As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering ****/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my butt cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own ****blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks."
Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my butt at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for butt-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my buttcheeks. Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil.
As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your butt having the texture of a Brillo pad. Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
Guys, DON'T SHAVE YOUR BUTT-HAIR!
Know your classics!quote:
Ik hou me bezig met het organiseren van reizen naar Argentinie, Chili en Peru voor Tipica Reizen.
Toen ik die tekst jaren geleden voor het eerst las, ging ik helemaal stuk. En nu weerquote:
Tevens -purist.
|
|
