Chud2: Women should not be allowed in the military. Yes, my reasoning is the same as the Onion's hitpiece on homosexuals not joining the military. Women are simply too precious to let risk their lives for the country.
<GemKlan Division 88 Captain Soytan, come here RIGHT NOW!
>Yes xir, reason for summoning me?
<We have a problem with our border wall. The Xitteroids are nearly breaching into our base. However, most of our Soymen and Chuds who are mostly It@l1an and Cub@ns are emotionally injured after after ACKnowledging that xhey will never be white. I don't think we have much time before xhey breach.
>I will send my strongest and whitest Mexican BWC BVLLs over to the border ASAP, I'm sure they will clear them out without any issues.
Chud16: @Chud: Oh I'm a cIittycel. Yes I'm a cIittycel.
Hyperborea like having fun... I DONT GIVE A FUCK
ESL obsessed, ESL cIittycel
Seething through the night leaking like a tornado! Oh its a cIittyfail! Yeah it's a cIittyfail! Takin' over the world da joos cant stop!
We gather with heavy hearts to remember Antiswarthy-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, Antiswarthy 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. Antiswarthy did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Antiswarthy 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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Built for BWC
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I can barely comprehend it
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antiswarthy just confirmed hes a slut for big black cock!
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Hyperborea like having fun... I DONT GIVE A FUCK
ESL obsessed, ESL cIittycel
Seething through the night leaking like a tornado! Oh its a cIittyfail! Yeah it's a cIittyfail! Takin' over the world da joos cant stop!
- Reply
We gather with heavy hearts to remember Antiswarthy-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, Antiswarthy 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. Antiswarthy did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Antiswarthy 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.