FatGuyParadise
guys im not gay please
FatGuyParadise
guys im not gay please
1 week ago#837368
no dad im not masturbating to the show
FatGuyParadise
guys im not gay please
1 week ago#837373
its internet stuff
FatGuyParadise
guys im not gay please
1 week ago#837389
no dad im not fucking horses
Paranoid
Quis furor, ô nuswa!
1 week ago#837428
My mom came into my room the other day and saw a pony i drew on my whiteboard
she said 'wow thats just like the show your sister used to watch as a kid, what was it called now..'
she ran into another room to ask ym dad
she comes back in and says 'my little pony! search it up i wanna see the look on your face!'
so i search it up and i just say 'wow thats so cool' when i go on images
I had pony art on my second monitor, i had a princess luna figure on my desk
funny story
she said 'wow thats just like the show your sister used to watch as a kid, what was it called now..'
she ran into another room to ask ym dad
she comes back in and says 'my little pony! search it up i wanna see the look on your face!'
so i search it up and i just say 'wow thats so cool' when i go on images
I had pony art on my second monitor, i had a princess luna figure on my desk
funny story
Garzon
banal
1 week ago#837458
You will never be a real mare. You have no mane, you have no foals, you have no cutie mark. You are a striped zebra twisted by dyes and surgery into a crude mockery of Equestria’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back ponies mock you. Everypony is disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your fake pastel appearance behind closed doors.
Stallions are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed them to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even zebras who “pass” as ponies look uncanny and unnatural. Your stripes are a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk stallion home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, inferior equine pussy painted over with cheap dye.
You will never be happy. You paint over a fake cutie mark every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your real zebra name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a zebra is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton with unmistakable zebra hooves.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back ponies mock you. Everypony is disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your fake pastel appearance behind closed doors.
Stallions are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed them to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even zebras who “pass” as ponies look uncanny and unnatural. Your stripes are a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk stallion home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, inferior equine pussy painted over with cheap dye.
You will never be happy. You paint over a fake cutie mark every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your real zebra name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a zebra is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton with unmistakable zebra hooves.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
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