I love gyros mane!!!

Krogclits...

Krog..

there is literally no reason for anyone to hate greece

@Who_Let_My_BVLL_OUT: I went there and it was rly hot and there was lots of wasps so it sucks

@finocide:
you must be from northern europe or something if you find 25 degree weather hot

Greece is aryan
Turkeyroachstan is not

Jimbrap and grACK but whiter and skinnier

Gem. We're brothers

Just make the expressions on the meximutts happier and this gets elevated to gemerald

@korg: brappers in arms

@Chud: we're literally hermanos

or something

Don't compare gemerald with brimstone

@Who_Let_My_BVLL_OUT:
But being a ==[h1]TVRKARYAN[/h1]== of course

@korg: BRAParyan... I kneel.
@Chud: >post this in five more breads to show your support for greece

@Who_Let_My_BVLL_OUT: :hand_splayedhand_splayedhand_splayed::hand_splayed:

@Colorlesspy: @Colorlesspy:
^90 iq shitskin roachnigger proud of being basically europe's india (even doe technically asia)

@Flute:
>Unironically called tuvrkaryans european while making fun of them

@Flute:
>^90 iq shitskin ro-BBRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPP

:speech:

@Flute:

@Chauvin2: nigga you live in an entire different continent idk why you even bother with people you've most likely never met

also korg and me

bye bye

kek

korg and colorless got banned lets go no more shitskin wars nobody cares about

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.
Rest peacefully, Jimbo.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.