It's 'Who's On First' for the Current Year.
He's on first.
Who, her?
No, she's on after them.
They're on next?
No: After him, they go on before her.
Careercow Jim Sterling / James "Stephanie" Sterling / James Stanton/Sexton & in memoriam TotalBiscuit (John Bain) - One Gaming Lolcow Thread
- Thread starter José Mourinho
- Start date
He's on first.
Who, her?
No, she's on after them.
They're on next?
No: After him, they go on before her.
Are we talking about pronouns, or the line of dudes waiting to rail Jim's wife?
Druveer
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Attachments
Jaracainofthewind
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Happy 600 pages Jim! At least one of your numbers is going up!
Yes, they think being a woman is the same as acting like stereotypes they see in the media. Just like incels. Nobody acts like the normal, faceless women majority going about their business.
DarkSoulsPhil
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That dude has got to be 109% jewish, I'd be blown away if he isnt since he fits all the fucking hallmarks of a degenerate enabler.
bigbombguy2222
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You know what they say, birds of a feather flock together. Imagine having an opinion on anything despite being a laughingstock.He doesn't need to be burned, his life is complete shit. Look at this dumb faggot, lol.
Furaffinity here;
Steam Profile:
DeviantArt:
Weasly (Some offbeat gay furry pedo thing or something)
drakefoxaroo on Weasyl
Just a foxaroo who says he's from the jungles of Africa but actually lives in Fort Collins, Colorado. But shhh, don't tell anybody.www.weasyl.com
Lives in Fort Collins, CO.
Birthday: March 21st, 1994
Whole life is bumming on other peoples couch's and complaining about money. Only had one job, working for his college while getting a BA in engrish.
View attachment 2296944
Deleted his Facebook. Seems like it was just a furry art depo anyways. Family seems to be conservative Jews who hate fur fags, lol. Admitted in old journals he became a furry to hide his face because he thought no gay wanted to park some meat into his ugly rectum.
This dude is sad.
Oh wait, we're 600 pages deep into a Jim Sterling thread, my bad.
Weasyl was/is a Fur Affinity alternative. Basically, after FA shit the bed, people made their own FA with blackjack, and hookers.
Ink Bunny is the one people will call pedo shit, because Ink Bunny was made after FA banned "cub porn", so they went off and made their own FA alternative with blackjack, and hookers, and cub porn.
The Penultimate Warrior
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Arthur Morgan
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Jim would just focus on getting the pronouns wrong and insist anyone who likes his old stuff just preferred when he was doing "Nazi imagery" and that therefore means they themselves are Nazis and can be safely ignored.
Luz Noceda
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Shocked "who says he's from the jungles of Africa but actually lives in Colorado" isn't problematic to his hivemind.Weasly (Some offbeat gay furry pedo thing or something)
drakefoxaroo on Weasyl
Just a foxaroo who says he's from the jungles of Africa but actually lives in Fort Collins, Colorado. But shhh, don't tell anybody.
:gold:
kiwifarms.net
For some reason, this Stanisław Lem quote made me think of Jim Sterling:
But culture abhors a vacuum, and the terrifying suction of that emptiness caused by the implosion of sex has drawn, into the vacated place, food. The gastronomy of the day is divided into normal and obscene; there exist perversions of gluttony, glossy restaurant publications with centerfolds, and the partaking of meals in certain positions is considered unspeakably depraved. It is not permitted, for example, to consume fruit while kneeling (but for this very freedom a sect of knee deviates is fighting) ; it is not permitted to eat spinach or scrambled eggs with one's feet propped up. But there exist—of course!—private clubs in which connoisseurs and epicures are treated to indecent floor shows; before the eyes of the spectators special champions gorge themselves, and the drool trickles down the audience's collective chin. From Denmark are smuggled pornoculinary magazines containing things unbelievably gross. One picture shows the ingestion of scrambled eggs through a straw, during which the ingester, sinking his fingers into heavily garlicked spinach and at the same time sniffing paprika goulash, lies on the table, wrapped in the tablecloth, his feet bound with a cord hooked up to a percolator which in this orgy serves as the chandelier. The Prix Femina that year went to a novel about a character who first smeared the floor with truffle paste, then licked it clean, after having wallowed his fill in spaghetti. The ideal of beauty also has changed: the thing now is to be a two-hundred and-ninety pound butterball, for this attests to uncommon ability on the part of the alimentary canal. Changes have taken place in fashion as well, and it is generally impossible to distinguish women from men by their dress. In the parliaments of the more enlightened countries, however, the question is being debated whether or not schoolchildren should be instructed in the facts of life, i.e., the digestive processes. So far, this subject, because it is indecent, has been placed under a strict taboo.
But culture abhors a vacuum, and the terrifying suction of that emptiness caused by the implosion of sex has drawn, into the vacated place, food. The gastronomy of the day is divided into normal and obscene; there exist perversions of gluttony, glossy restaurant publications with centerfolds, and the partaking of meals in certain positions is considered unspeakably depraved. It is not permitted, for example, to consume fruit while kneeling (but for this very freedom a sect of knee deviates is fighting) ; it is not permitted to eat spinach or scrambled eggs with one's feet propped up. But there exist—of course!—private clubs in which connoisseurs and epicures are treated to indecent floor shows; before the eyes of the spectators special champions gorge themselves, and the drool trickles down the audience's collective chin. From Denmark are smuggled pornoculinary magazines containing things unbelievably gross. One picture shows the ingestion of scrambled eggs through a straw, during which the ingester, sinking his fingers into heavily garlicked spinach and at the same time sniffing paprika goulash, lies on the table, wrapped in the tablecloth, his feet bound with a cord hooked up to a percolator which in this orgy serves as the chandelier. The Prix Femina that year went to a novel about a character who first smeared the floor with truffle paste, then licked it clean, after having wallowed his fill in spaghetti. The ideal of beauty also has changed: the thing now is to be a two-hundred and-ninety pound butterball, for this attests to uncommon ability on the part of the alimentary canal. Changes have taken place in fashion as well, and it is generally impossible to distinguish women from men by their dress. In the parliaments of the more enlightened countries, however, the question is being debated whether or not schoolchildren should be instructed in the facts of life, i.e., the digestive processes. So far, this subject, because it is indecent, has been placed under a strict taboo.
The Penultimate Warrior
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