02/13/26 - How it works, controversial sorting: Posts are ranked by Total Activity (most votes) once they reach a 5-vote minimum. To qualify as "Controversial," a post must have a split between 45% and 65% for either Upvotes or Downvotes.
02/13/26 -
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(You) need to save our The Democracy. (You)r votes are now more powerful.
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greg is the type of person to see pony porn on /pol/ and immediately pull out a vibrator so it faps him because xis tbp is too small and xis hands are too obese and saggy to touch ximself
MrObsessed if this is you irl reply, soyquote, vertical arrow or 4cuk green arrow this comment, and do it too if the soyjaks you use to soyquote are you as well, and you also confirm this is you if you even reference my reply in any way shape or form with a follow up comment.
If anyone else agrees this is MrObsessed irl do the same. You all sign and vow that you agree this is MrObsessed if you do any if these things.
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.
Rest peacefully, Jimbo.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.
Emerald is a girl, I genuinely don't know where you got this from. Me and Emerald enjoy our time together on many occasions. When we aren't hanging out in real life, we talk on Discord VC. When it's not that, and we are hanging out we either play Nintendo Switch (Mario Kart 8, Escapists 1 & 2 or that new Mario Game), chat about our days and microtopics whilst drinking artisan coffee, or watch whatever she wants on Netflix, which usually tends to be sitcoms. So, I don't know why people genuinely think she has a thing for some random noon. I'm serious, stop saying this about her. I don't usually mean things when I type them but this is me stripping off my mask and being 100% honest. Please be better than this.
@greg:
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.
Rest peacefully, Jimbo.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.