SBBC : Show me on the doll where Senri touched you

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faustian said:
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She's a cheerleader as well.
tumblr_mjlvmt0ggn1s85lpyo1_500.gif
 
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/a...pregnant-miscarriage.html?ito=social-facebook


Transgender man and father-of-two adopted children happily announces he is pregnant with his gay husband, a year after suffering a miscarriage
  • Trystan Reese, 34, and Biff Chaplow of Portland, Oregon, revealed on a recent podcast that they will be welcoming a son this summer
  • Trystan, who is transgender, suffered a miscarriage last year at six-weeks, but the couple got to trying again right away
  • The pair are already dads to two adopted children, Riley and Hailey


40FA397400000578-4560560-Big_news_Trystan_Reese_left_and_Biff_Chaplow_right_of_Portland_O-a-1_1496424581122.jpg
 
I'm no expert on this shit but wouldn't all the exogenous male hormones fuck with a pregnancy?
 
Came across this gem in a old thread by @The One True

i'm usually quite adept at piecing together a caricature of any given user and making an accurate assessment of their general nature and background through their postings, but i can't quite put my finger on frank. on the one hand, of course he's trolling. why am i even bothering with this post? of course he's aware of how terrible his threads are, how bland and trivial and uninteresting they are, how plain unnecessary they are. of course he knows full well that nobody cares about how cm punk's flight went, what joe rogan thinks of miesha tate's leg kicks, particularly he knows we itt especially don't care as evidenced by nobody ever participating in them beyond casting a pity vote or an ironic 'thanks frank'. but on the other hand, he never breaks character, not even in a neutral zone like the sbbc where everybody is already in on the joke, and that indicates to me only two possibilities: that he either really values this useless-factoid-machine gimmick and won't let his guard down for anyone, or that the frank we are interacting with online is in fact the real frank, an actual tragedy of a human being

what kind of a person would a real life frank23 be? let there be no doubt that frank wears a wrist watch. i know you're reading this frank, and i know it's on your left hand, i know you just went to touch it, i know it has leather straps, it's round too isn't it? you're thinking how did he know?? of course i know. this may seem an inconsequential detail to some but it's not, frank is a man of absolute order and timing - frank's philosophy on life is, 'there are things to do, and there is a designated time for doing them'. he wakes up at 8 am on the cuhnt-licking DOT every single day of his life. but what if it's a sunday morning, and he's still tired, and there's no particular rush - frank won't hear of it. it's 8 am. you're not supposed to wake up when you're fully rested, or when responsibilities call, no, you're supposed to wake up because it's 8 am. because of some arbitrary unit of measure that some wig-wearing europian capitalist pig invented a 1000 years ago, because the hands on his watch are pointing in a certain direction, as if it has any inherent significance, so he has to act in accordance

frank's life for all intents and purposes is predetermined. it adheres to his schedule, to the digital notes in his daily planner, to the to-do list in his agenda that is hand-written the day prior and placed under the lamp near his nightly-reading novel, adjacent his bed. he wakes up in the same position every morning, straight on his back like dracula, like he was in a coffin, almost symbolic of the devoid 'life' he lives. he removes his sleep mask and does some quick stretches to get the blood flowing. he does his toiletries - he pees on the exact same spot in his toilet, on the bare porcelain above the water, to avoid splashback and noise. he shakes his penis three times, any less and there's too much remainder, any more and it's just a waste of time. he folds his pajamas neatly and puts on his preselected clothes, ironed the night before. breakfast? cup of coffee, two eggs, toast. what if he's not hungry? what if he wants pancakes? perhaps tea for a change? ...cup of coffee, two eggs, toast. but even frank needs to let his hair down every once in a while. some days there will be this sudden abundance of life in him, a spring of spontaneity he had not anticipated, these mornings frank will do something brash, something rather exhilarating, out of the ordinary, something downright taboo - he'll make an omelette. he'll regret it immediately. now his cheese supply will run out a day sooner than he had planned, he'll need to update his grocery list spreadsheets, now he'll have to adjust lunch and dinner to accommodate breakfast's excess calories, what a disaster. he should have never made that fucking omelette

frank rushes out the door for 11 am. it's time to exercise, which happens to be a brisk stroll around the block. he has his water bottle, his music device, his trusty pedometer, and his cell phone in case of an emergency. he sees his neighbour jim. morning, jim. morning, frank. they've lived 10 meters away from each other for the last 30 years and that is the only thing they know about each other. frank knows that his neighbor drives a red car and that when he makes a one syllable sound with his mouth 'jim' his neighbor looks at frank and makes sounds back at him, these sounds confirm their friendship

finally frank takes a well-deserved rest, sitting at his desktop. this is frank's favorite part of the day. first he browses his homepage bbc dot com for worldwide news coverage. then he peruses sherdog's main site for the latest and hottest mma news. something catches his eye: 'jeremy stephens wants match with frankie edgar'. frank's eyebrows shoot up. wow! that would be a very good fight! he's genuinely captivated by this article, he can't wait to share his excitement with others. this is the frank we experience, that we interact with, this small window in frank's day is all we are privy too, we don't get to see him masturbate with immaculate posture to VANILLA porn (one man. one woman. one hole. just as the great lord intended). we don't get to see him feeding his goldfish. we don't get to see him call telus and ask for customer service because his data is acting weird. we don't get to see him water his garden. we don't get to see any of these things

and as such, i may be extrapolating too much from too little information, but this is the only logical explanation to me. so which is it frank? surely you have to admit to one or the other, nobody will judge you, personally my money is on you trolling but if you're going to insist otherwise what choice do i have but to adopt the idea that the tragic man described above is actually you? because there's no other human you could possibly be
 
PolishHeadlock said:
Came across this gem in a old thread by @The One True

i'm usually quite adept at piecing together a caricature of any given user and making an accurate assessment of their general nature and background through their postings, but i can't quite put my finger on frank. on the one hand, of course he's trolling. why am i even bothering with this post? of course he's aware of how terrible his threads are, how bland and trivial and uninteresting they are, how plain unnecessary they are. of course he knows full well that nobody cares about how cm punk's flight went, what joe rogan thinks of miesha tate's leg kicks, particularly he knows we itt especially don't care as evidenced by nobody ever participating in them beyond casting a pity vote or an ironic 'thanks frank'. but on the other hand, he never breaks character, not even in a neutral zone like the sbbc where everybody is already in on the joke, and that indicates to me only two possibilities: that he either really values this useless-factoid-machine gimmick and won't let his guard down for anyone, or that the frank we are interacting with online is in fact the real frank, an actual tragedy of a human being

what kind of a person would a real life frank23 be? let there be no doubt that frank wears a wrist watch. i know you're reading this frank, and i know it's on your left hand, i know you just went to touch it, i know it has leather straps, it's round too isn't it? you're thinking how did he know?? of course i know. this may seem an inconsequential detail to some but it's not, frank is a man of absolute order and timing - frank's philosophy on life is, 'there are things to do, and there is a designated time for doing them'. he wakes up at 8 am on the cuhnt-licking DOT every single day of his life. but what if it's a sunday morning, and he's still tired, and there's no particular rush - frank won't hear of it. it's 8 am. you're not supposed to wake up when you're fully rested, or when responsibilities call, no, you're supposed to wake up because it's 8 am. because of some arbitrary unit of measure that some wig-wearing europian capitalist pig invented a 1000 years ago, because the hands on his watch are pointing in a certain direction, as if it has any inherent significance, so he has to act in accordance

frank's life for all intents and purposes is predetermined. it adheres to his schedule, to the digital notes in his daily planner, to the to-do list in his agenda that is hand-written the day prior and placed under the lamp near his nightly-reading novel, adjacent his bed. he wakes up in the same position every morning, straight on his back like dracula, like he was in a coffin, almost symbolic of the devoid 'life' he lives. he removes his sleep mask and does some quick stretches to get the blood flowing. he does his toiletries - he pees on the exact same spot in his toilet, on the bare porcelain above the water, to avoid splashback and noise. he shakes his penis three times, any less and there's too much remainder, any more and it's just a waste of time. he folds his pajamas neatly and puts on his preselected clothes, ironed the night before. breakfast? cup of coffee, two eggs, toast. what if he's not hungry? what if he wants pancakes? perhaps tea for a change? ...cup of coffee, two eggs, toast. but even frank needs to let his hair down every once in a while. some days there will be this sudden abundance of life in him, a spring of spontaneity he had not anticipated, these mornings frank will do something brash, something rather exhilarating, out of the ordinary, something downright taboo - he'll make an omelette. he'll regret it immediately. now his cheese supply will run out a day sooner than he had planned, he'll need to update his grocery list spreadsheets, now he'll have to adjust lunch and dinner to accommodate breakfast's excess calories, what a disaster. he should have never made that fucking omelette

frank rushes out the door for 11 am. it's time to exercise, which happens to be a brisk stroll around the block. he has his water bottle, his music device, his trusty pedometer, and his cell phone in case of an emergency. he sees his neighbour jim. morning, jim. morning, frank. they've lived 10 meters away from each other for the last 30 years and that is the only thing they know about each other. frank knows that his neighbor drives a red car and that when he makes a one syllable sound with his mouth 'jim' his neighbor looks at frank and makes sounds back at him, these sounds confirm their friendship

finally frank takes a well-deserved rest, sitting at his desktop. this is frank's favorite part of the day. first he browses his homepage bbc dot com for worldwide news coverage. then he peruses sherdog's main site for the latest and hottest mma news. something catches his eye: 'jeremy stephens wants match with frankie edgar'. frank's eyebrows shoot up. wow! that would be a very good fight! he's genuinely captivated by this article, he can't wait to share his excitement with others. this is the frank we experience, that we interact with, this small window in frank's day is all we are privy too, we don't get to see him masturbate with immaculate posture to VANILLA porn (one man. one woman. one hole. just as the great lord intended). we don't get to see him feeding his goldfish. we don't get to see him call telus and ask for customer service because his data is acting weird. we don't get to see him water his garden. we don't get to see any of these things

and as such, i may be extrapolating too much from too little information, but this is the only logical explanation to me. so which is it frank? surely you have to admit to one or the other, nobody will judge you, personally my money is on you trolling but if you're going to insist otherwise what choice do i have but to adopt the idea that the tragic man described above is actually you? because there's no other human you could possibly be
Click to expand...
Cliffs?
 
Kahl Drogo said:
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/a...pregnant-miscarriage.html?ito=social-facebook


Transgender man and father-of-two adopted children happily announces he is pregnant with his gay husband, a year after suffering a miscarriage
  • Trystan Reese, 34, and Biff Chaplow of Portland, Oregon, revealed on a recent podcast that they will be welcoming a son this summer
  • Trystan, who is transgender, suffered a miscarriage last year at six-weeks, but the couple got to trying again right away
  • The pair are already dads to two adopted children, Riley and Hailey


40FA397400000578-4560560-Big_news_Trystan_Reese_left_and_Biff_Chaplow_right_of_Portland_O-a-1_1496424581122.jpg
Click to expand...

7e7.jpg
 
PolishHeadlock said:
Came across this gem in a old thread by @The One True

i'm usually quite adept at piecing together a caricature of any given user and making an accurate assessment of their general nature and background through their postings, but i can't quite put my finger on frank. on the one hand, of course he's trolling. why am i even bothering with this post? of course he's aware of how terrible his threads are, how bland and trivial and uninteresting they are, how plain unnecessary they are. of course he knows full well that nobody cares about how cm punk's flight went, what joe rogan thinks of miesha tate's leg kicks, particularly he knows we itt especially don't care as evidenced by nobody ever participating in them beyond casting a pity vote or an ironic 'thanks frank'. but on the other hand, he never breaks character, not even in a neutral zone like the sbbc where everybody is already in on the joke, and that indicates to me only two possibilities: that he either really values this useless-factoid-machine gimmick and won't let his guard down for anyone, or that the frank we are interacting with online is in fact the real frank, an actual tragedy of a human being

what kind of a person would a real life frank23 be? let there be no doubt that frank wears a wrist watch. i know you're reading this frank, and i know it's on your left hand, i know you just went to touch it, i know it has leather straps, it's round too isn't it? you're thinking how did he know?? of course i know. this may seem an inconsequential detail to some but it's not, frank is a man of absolute order and timing - frank's philosophy on life is, 'there are things to do, and there is a designated time for doing them'. he wakes up at 8 am on the cuhnt-licking DOT every single day of his life. but what if it's a sunday morning, and he's still tired, and there's no particular rush - frank won't hear of it. it's 8 am. you're not supposed to wake up when you're fully rested, or when responsibilities call, no, you're supposed to wake up because it's 8 am. because of some arbitrary unit of measure that some wig-wearing europian capitalist pig invented a 1000 years ago, because the hands on his watch are pointing in a certain direction, as if it has any inherent significance, so he has to act in accordance

frank's life for all intents and purposes is predetermined. it adheres to his schedule, to the digital notes in his daily planner, to the to-do list in his agenda that is hand-written the day prior and placed under the lamp near his nightly-reading novel, adjacent his bed. he wakes up in the same position every morning, straight on his back like dracula, like he was in a coffin, almost symbolic of the devoid 'life' he lives. he removes his sleep mask and does some quick stretches to get the blood flowing. he does his toiletries - he pees on the exact same spot in his toilet, on the bare porcelain above the water, to avoid splashback and noise. he shakes his penis three times, any less and there's too much remainder, any more and it's just a waste of time. he folds his pajamas neatly and puts on his preselected clothes, ironed the night before. breakfast? cup of coffee, two eggs, toast. what if he's not hungry? what if he wants pancakes? perhaps tea for a change? ...cup of coffee, two eggs, toast. but even frank needs to let his hair down every once in a while. some days there will be this sudden abundance of life in him, a spring of spontaneity he had not anticipated, these mornings frank will do something brash, something rather exhilarating, out of the ordinary, something downright taboo - he'll make an omelette. he'll regret it immediately. now his cheese supply will run out a day sooner than he had planned, he'll need to update his grocery list spreadsheets, now he'll have to adjust lunch and dinner to accommodate breakfast's excess calories, what a disaster. he should have never made that fucking omelette

frank rushes out the door for 11 am. it's time to exercise, which happens to be a brisk stroll around the block. he has his water bottle, his music device, his trusty pedometer, and his cell phone in case of an emergency. he sees his neighbour jim. morning, jim. morning, frank. they've lived 10 meters away from each other for the last 30 years and that is the only thing they know about each other. frank knows that his neighbor drives a red car and that when he makes a one syllable sound with his mouth 'jim' his neighbor looks at frank and makes sounds back at him, these sounds confirm their friendship

finally frank takes a well-deserved rest, sitting at his desktop. this is frank's favorite part of the day. first he browses his homepage bbc dot com for worldwide news coverage. then he peruses sherdog's main site for the latest and hottest mma news. something catches his eye: 'jeremy stephens wants match with frankie edgar'. frank's eyebrows shoot up. wow! that would be a very good fight! he's genuinely captivated by this article, he can't wait to share his excitement with others. this is the frank we experience, that we interact with, this small window in frank's day is all we are privy too, we don't get to see him masturbate with immaculate posture to VANILLA porn (one man. one woman. one hole. just as the great lord intended). we don't get to see him feeding his goldfish. we don't get to see him call telus and ask for customer service because his data is acting weird. we don't get to see him water his garden. we don't get to see any of these things

and as such, i may be extrapolating too much from too little information, but this is the only logical explanation to me. so which is it frank? surely you have to admit to one or the other, nobody will judge you, personally my money is on you trolling but if you're going to insist otherwise what choice do i have but to adopt the idea that the tragic man described above is actually you? because there's no other human you could possibly be
Click to expand...

Other than a few blasphemous words, i thoroughly enjoyed the narrative.
 
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