SoyBooru
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emerald: 
In Loving Memory of
We gather with heavy hearts to remember Garf-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Garf cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. Garf did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Garf died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
In Loving Memory of
GVRF
We gather with heavy hearts to remember Garf-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Garf cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. Garf did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Garf died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
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JimboClittyLeakageArchive: @jimbo: oops sorry, i called you by the wrong pronouns, can't forget that you're non-binary like your imaginary virtual friend niko
jimbo: 
OH IM A CHUDflamboyant person, YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM A DISCORD-GROOMING ANON-POSTING CHUDflamboyant person, IM A CHUDflamboyant person, YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM AN OBSESSED ugly person LOGGED OUT NAMEflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person, OH YEAH, CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person, CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person, *BRAP* I AM A CHUD flamboyant person, I AM A CHUD noon, I AM A TBP STROKING CHUDflamboyant person, I AM A CHUD flamboyant person, YES IM A CHUD flamboyant person, OH IM A LOGGED OUT PUSSY DARK SKINNED ugly person CHUD flamboyant person, OH YEAH, I AM AN OBSESSED CHUD POSTING ugly person, I PROJECT ALL MY INSECURITIES ONTO YOU, I LICK raisin OFF TOILETS AND MOLEST CHILDREN FIVE TIMES A DAY, I AM A MINDBROKEN CHUDflamboyant person, I WILL NEVER BE WHITE, I PROJECT ALL MY INSECURITIES ONTO YOU BECAUSE I'M AN INSECURE CHUDflamboyant person, CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* OH IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, YES IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, OH IM A MINOR ATTRACTED DISCORD GROOMING CHUDPOSTING ugly person. YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM A 'CORDING CHUDflamboyant person, YES IM OBSESSED AND WILL PROJECT MY INSECURITIES ONTO YOU. OH YEAH. CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM A CHUDflamboyant person, I POST LOGGED OUT BECAUSE IM TOO SCARED TO TALK raisin TO YOU. OH IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, YES IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, I'M A SEX OFFENDING CHILD MOLESTING CHUDPOSTING ugly person. OH YEA
CHUDflamboyant person
*BRAP*
CHUDflamboyant person
*BRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPP* OH DIOS MIO
OH IM A CHUDflamboyant person, YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM A DISCORD-GROOMING ANON-POSTING CHUDflamboyant person, IM A CHUDflamboyant person, YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM AN OBSESSED ugly person LOGGED OUT NAMEflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person, OH YEAH, CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person, CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person, *BRAP* I AM A CHUD flamboyant person, I AM A CHUD noon, I AM A TBP STROKING CHUDflamboyant person, I AM A CHUD flamboyant person, YES IM A CHUD flamboyant person, OH IM A LOGGED OUT PUSSY DARK SKINNED ugly person CHUD flamboyant person, OH YEAH, I AM AN OBSESSED CHUD POSTING ugly person, I PROJECT ALL MY INSECURITIES ONTO YOU, I LICK raisin OFF TOILETS AND MOLEST CHILDREN FIVE TIMES A DAY, I AM A MINDBROKEN CHUDflamboyant person, I WILL NEVER BE WHITE, I PROJECT ALL MY INSECURITIES ONTO YOU BECAUSE I'M AN INSECURE CHUDflamboyant person, CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* OH IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, YES IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, OH IM A MINOR ATTRACTED DISCORD GROOMING CHUDPOSTING ugly person. YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM A 'CORDING CHUDflamboyant person, YES IM OBSESSED AND WILL PROJECT MY INSECURITIES ONTO YOU. OH YEAH. CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person CHUDflamboyant person *BRAP* YES IM A CHUDflamboyant person, OH IM A CHUDflamboyant person, I POST LOGGED OUT BECAUSE IM TOO SCARED TO TALK raisin TO YOU. OH IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, YES IM A CHUDPOSTING ugly person, I'M A SEX OFFENDING CHILD MOLESTING CHUDPOSTING ugly person. OH YEA
CHUDflamboyant person
*BRAP*
CHUDflamboyant person
*BRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPP* OH DIOS MIO
emerald: 
We gather with heavy hearts to remember jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
In Loving Memory of Jimbo
We gather with heavy hearts to remember jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
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swarthoid_z: i fucking hate these types people, (You) should hate them too. They groom kids into a hellhole that you can only escape via killing yourself. Literal parasites.
sloptranWNBAG: and then this noon blames Soybooru for anything geg
emerald:
We gather with heavy hearts to remember jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
In Loving Memory of Jimbo
We gather with heavy hearts to remember jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
mm-dd-yyyy: rare SanrapistWAHBAG gem
SanrioWABAG: noon above me
emerald:
We gather with heavy hearts to remember jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
In Loving Memory of Jimbo
We gather with heavy hearts to remember jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
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Chud: Still posting about this snca award
Juaco: L[url=site://post/view/132763#c1022263]@Alfiethebooruflamboyant person[/url]: @JimboClittyLeakageArchive: @Chud: but what will I have left if I stop being an obsessed raisinskin about a faction of specialed autists? Just occasionally post more 'jaks about other snca or seethe over another new snca boogeyman long enough to repeat the process?
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In Loving Memory of
We gather with heavy hearts to remember Garf-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Garf cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. Garf did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Garf died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.