There once was a man from Nantucket, Whose prick was so long he could suck it, He said with a grin, As he wiped off his chin, "I GOT A GREASED UP YODA DOLL SHOVED UP MY ASS!"
Nobody cares about your mother's cunt. It's greasy, it's smelly and you could park a suburban in that goddamn thing, and it doesn't help matters that she's a white female. Get it away from me.
I agree, certain races, such as niggers, spics, kikes and fish-heads, just aren't suitable to function in our modern white society and should be sent back to their respective countries. We should meet up for casual sex, I bet you have a nigger cock.
I don't know, but would you like a free iPod Touch, no strings attached*? If so, then boy, do I have an offer for you. For more information, go here, complete six special offers and get twelve other people to sign up and complete six special offers each. Then, put your dick in a drill press while Malda slides an iPod up your ass. Pyramid schemes are fun, you faggots.
Yeah, because they're niggers. Niggers steal stuff. Except fried chicken, niggers are more than happy to support the fried chicken industry. Except these dirty coons.
I'm no photographer but I paid a bit of attention to digital cameras over the past decade and I think I can safely say that I dropped a brown rope this morning the size of a black child. At one point, I wasn't sure if I was taking a shit or if the shit was taking me. Afterwards I felt so light, like I was on the moon. Except my ass was bleeding. By picking a popular model by either Nikon or Canon within your price range you can't go wrong.
How a life can change in an instant. Everything one thought and believed can be shattered on the rocks of an uncharted coast of a new experience. Here I was, a happy English teacher, twenty-five years old with a lovely wife and a five-year old daughter. I was teaching in a good urban school, considered something of a boy-genius by my colleagues, respected by parents, and loved by most of my students. And then one fateful day, everything changed because of Jesse Coulter.
It was right after school, and I was seated at my desk correcting some papers when I noticed his lanky sixteen year old form standing before me. Jesse and I had not gotten along, did not get along well at all. That's because he was a very lazy teenage boy. He got through high school thus far on his basketball skills, and most other teachers seemed to turn a blind eye on the fact that he was charming them with his skill on the court and his million dollar smile. He didn't like English Class. I guess it clashed with his "street jargon."
Hell, he didn't like schoolwork of any kind. What he did like was fucking every girl he could get his large black hands on. And from what I heard around school, it wasn't just large black hands that won the young white girls over. Talk was he was endowed like a horse.
I mean, I knew several teachers who visited the boys' locker room just to verify the rumor. These were straight teachers. And the report they gave was that the rumor was correct. The handsome black boy got on well with other students, but they all treated him with some kind of special respect, like he was untouchable, above them in some way. In the lunch room for example, when he came to a table, other kids would move aside, or even leave if he told them to.
Now, handsome, black, Jesse Coulter stood before my desk. He should have been playing basketball, and I was the reason he wasn't.
"You get me benched?" He asked with a thick, husky, masculine voice.
"No Jesse, you got yourself benched. You didn't hand in the last two homework assignments, and you failed the last three tests."
He stood up talker, straightening his shoulders which usually slouched. "I been busy."
I looked uip at him. He was handsome, I had to say that for him. So dark with flashing teeth.
"Too busy to do your schoolwork? Then maybe you need a break from basketball."
"You know the school never go for that. I the star of the school."
"Not this week. Not until you get those assignments in and do better on the check tests."
"Fuck that."
I snapped up. I could feel the heat of anger rising from my reddening face.
"Don't you speak that way to me!"
Suddenly I was standing in front of him. I could smell his musk. He was about my height, but only sixteen. His strong face had an arrogance about it that was intimidating.
"Look, teach, how the fuck can I take time out to study, when I got to play basketball and fuck half the white pussy in the school?"
I was speechless. I just stood there.
"An, then there's all them female teachers in the school like Miss Mortenson who need my big black dick. And all them faggot teachers too."
"That is enough. I want you out of here and down to the office. Now!"
His eyes burned cold, the white around the cornea clear and ivory.
"Listen, Asswipe. You think I gonna let one cocksucking teacher fuck up my position here at the school? Shit, I already offered two scholarships to good colleges, and I only a sophomore. You the one who is gonna get on board here and learn some respect for a black star like me!"
And with that, he slapped me. He drew back one large black hand and slapped my face, hard. My head spun. I had never experienced anything like it in my life. I grant you, I am not a very physical person, although I do swim at the gym to keep a fairly good body. I am not into sports, and prefer Faulkner to Football. And this teenage black boy had just slapped me. I reached out to grab a fistful of his t-shirt, but he slappe
I sat naked on the bench in the health club locker room, staring at the tiles on the floor between my feet, but really looking at nothing. I was waiting for Jamal to decide to come up ant talk to me. He was this muscular teenage nigger who frequented the club and had ruined my life in the last few weeks. I was ordered to sit naked on the bench without a towel or anything to cover my nakedness. I had to keep my legs spread and my cock and balls visible for the anyone In the locker room who wanted a look. I knew instantly that it had been a mistake to sign up at the inner city health club which was eighty percent black, but It was near my house and cheap which was even more important.
The harassment had started on my first visit. Dark skinned, muscular black boys bouncing around the locker room with their huge dicks and pendulous sacks of balls swinging, high fiving each other and laughing and rapping, and there I was, this moderately built white guy of thirty two.
I will never forget coming back from the shower and one chocolate skinned thug of about eighteen let out a "weeeeeeeow" kind of sound and then said very loudly to me, loudly enough for all his pals to hear, "White man, how the hell can you fuck wit such a small dick?" They all roared with laughter and I turned bright red. Before I left that first time, I med Jamal. He eased up to me while I was packing my gym bag. He is one good looking darkie, I will say that for him. He flashed me a big white toothed smile and said he hoped I wasn't thinking of quitting the club. He said he was friends with the manager and they had my address and shit, and it would be really unfortunate if I decided to quit. Then he laid one large basketball player sized hand on my shoulder and said that he would see me at the same time the next day.
Well, that's how it started. It got worse each time I went to the club. Jamal and the other niggers got me to get towels for them, had me scrub their backs in the shower, even made me pick their dirty stinking jock straps up off the floor. They sent their filthy jocks and socks home with me to wash for them.
Now let me state here once and for all, that I am in no way at all gay. I don't think I ever even had a gay thought. So all of this really repulsed me. They would brush up against me so their big fat black dicks rubbed my body. They would make constant jokes about me being a faggot.
So I had it out with Jamal. I told him I was a single parent with a thirteen year old daughter and in no way gay, and I wanted to quit the club. That mention of my daughter was the biggest mistake of my life. Jamal demanded to see a photo of her. Her name is Crissy. After that, all they talked about was "Crissy the Cunt" in the locker room.
"Some fourteen year old school boy probably shoving his dick in her right now while you is at da club."
They would say things like that. Jamal would ask, "Do you suppose she had ever sucked black dick?" I told them she was totally innocent, and they should keep their foul mouths to themselves. They beat the shit out of me.
I didn't go to the club for a week. All the windows were broken on my car, and my newspaper was stolen, and somebody pissed all over our door. I received a package at work, and when I opened it, there was a pile of shit in a box. I was going nuts with anguish. I thought of going to the police, but I knew I would face even worse if I did. So I went back to the club. That was two months ago. A lot had happened in those two months.
Now I sat waiting for Jamal to speak with me. He walked up, stark naked. The first thing I saw were his huge brown feet next to me. I looked up at his long muscular legs. How could I miss the seven inch flaccid dick, thick as a flashlight and the ball sack that looked like it had oranges in it. It was fucking obscene. His stomach was hard and tight. His ass was one of those round tight nigger bubble butts. His chest well defined with large nipples. He had a killer smile, thick nigger lips, and dark flashing eyes that often looke
Slashdot Mirror
Because fuck you.
With a very little penis.
We should meet up for casual sex.
Make sure that it runs bash, vi, iptables, SSHd, Squid, Apache, MySQL and KDE, otherwise it doesn't count.
I want to hear or better yet see the first zero gravity anal stretching.
+----------+
.\|.||/..
|Lick the c|
|heese off |
|of Richard|
|Stallman's|
|drippling,|
|flaccid op|
|en-source |
|penis you |
|faggots.<3|
+----------+
| |
| |
There once was a man from Nantucket,
Whose prick was so long he could suck it,
He said with a grin,
As he wiped off his chin,
"I GOT A GREASED UP YODA DOLL SHOVED UP MY ASS!"
GO LINUX!
Nobody cares about your mother's cunt. It's greasy, it's smelly and you could park a suburban in that goddamn thing, and it doesn't help matters that she's a white female. Get it away from me.
Put a cock in it, jackoff. You fucking Linux dweebs are the worst.
I agree, certain races, such as niggers, spics, kikes and fish-heads, just aren't suitable to function in our modern white society and should be sent back to their respective countries. We should meet up for casual sex, I bet you have a nigger cock.
Don't you know? BSD is dead. Lick my nigger-flavoured ballsack you dirty kikes.
Or better yet, how about you suck the snotty end of my fuck-stick while I squish out a brown loaf into your wife's mouth. I hate you.
I don't know, but would you like a free iPod Touch, no strings attached*? If so, then boy, do I have an offer for you. For more information, go here, complete six special offers and get twelve other people to sign up and complete six special offers each. Then, put your dick in a drill press while Malda slides an iPod up your ass. Pyramid schemes are fun, you faggots.
*Strings may be attached
Yeah, because they're niggers. Niggers steal stuff. Except fried chicken, niggers are more than happy to support the fried chicken industry. Except these dirty coons.
I'll put them in your mother's gaping asshole while I'm fucking her with my fat nigger cock you fucking faggot. Suck the cheeze off my balls.
Gee, that added a lot to the conversation. The fuck is wrong with you? Fall in a well and die.
Suck my big black niggerdick you faggot, then I'll blow a nice warm, milky load down the back of your throat.
Why hang all niggas? We's already hung better than all you blue-eyes, cracka!
Listen to da man, Sambo, he has a point: Jews hate niggers.
No, you numbnuts. She wanted to, there just wasn't anybody to hold her hand through the process. Fuck, you Linux dweebs are dense.
I'm no photographer but I paid a bit of attention to digital cameras over the past decade and I think I can safely say that I dropped a brown rope this morning the size of a black child. At one point, I wasn't sure if I was taking a shit or if the shit was taking me. Afterwards I felt so light, like I was on the moon. Except my ass was bleeding. By picking a popular model by either Nikon or Canon within your price range you can't go wrong.
My message to you is about the war in Iraq and Afghanistan and the way to end it. I had not intended to speak to you about this issue, because, for us, this issue is already decided on: diamonds cut diamonds. Praise be to God, our conditions are always improving and becoming better, while your conditions are to the contrary of this. However, what prompted me to speak are the repeated fallacies of your President Bush in his comment on the outcome of the US opinion polls, which indicated that the overwhelming majority of you want the withdrawal of the forces from Iraq, but he objected to this desire and said that the withdrawal of troops would send a wrong message to the enemy. Bush said: It is better to fight them on their ground than they fighting us on our ground. In my response to these fallacies, I say: The war in Iraq is raging, and the operations in Afghanistan are on the rise in our favour, praise be to God. The Pentagon figures indicate the rise in the number of your dead and wounded, let alone the huge material losses, and let alone the collapse of the morale of the soldiers there and the increase in the suicide cases among them. So, just imagine the state of psychological breakdown that afflicts the soldier while collecting the remnants of his comrades' dead bodies after they hit mines, which torn them. Following such situation, the soldier becomes between two fires. If he refuses to go out of his military barracks for patrols, he will face the penalties of the Vietnam butcher, and if he goes out, he will face the danger of mines. So, he is between two bitter situations, something which puts him under psychological pressure - fear, humiliation, and coercion. Moreover, his people are careless about him. So, he has no choice but to commit suicide. What you hear about him and his suicide is a strong message to you, which he wrote with his blood and soul while pain and bitterness eat him up so that you would save what you can save from this hell. However, the solution is in your hand if you care about them. The news of our brother mujahideen, however, is different from what is published by the Pentagon. This news indicates that what is carried by the news media does not exceed what is actually taking place on the ground. What increases doubts on the information of the White House's administration is its targeting of the news media, which carry some facts about the real situation. Documents have recently showed that the butcher of freedom in the world [US President Bush] had planned to bomb the head office of al-Jazeera Space Channel in the state of Qatar after he bombed its offices in Kabul and Baghdad, although despite its defects, it is [Al-Jazeera] one of your creations. Jihad is continuing, praise be to God, despite all the repressive measures the US army and its agents take to the point where there is no significant difference between these crimes and those of Saddam. These crimes include the raping of women and taking them hostage instead of their husbands. There is no power but in God. The torturing of men has reached the point of using chemical acids and electric drills in their joints. If they become desperate with them, they put the drill on their heads until death. If you like, read the humanitarian reports on the atrocities and crimes in the prisons of Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo. I say that despite all the barbaric methods, they have failed to ease resistance, and the number of mujahideen, praise be to God, is increasing. In fact, reports indicate that the defeat and devastating failure of the ill-omened plan of the four - Bush, Cheney, Rumsfeld, and Wolfowitz - and the announcement of this defeat and working it out, is only a matter of time, which is to some extent linked to the awareness of the American people of the magnitude of this tragedy. The wise ones know that Bush has no plan to achieve his alleged victory in Iraq. If you compare the small number of the dead when Bush made that false and stupid show-like announceme
Never relax!
How a life can change in an instant. Everything one thought and believed can be shattered on the rocks of an uncharted coast of a new experience. Here I was, a happy English teacher, twenty-five years old with a lovely wife and a five-year old daughter. I was teaching in a good urban school, considered something of a boy-genius by my colleagues, respected by parents, and loved by most of my students. And then one fateful day, everything changed because of Jesse Coulter.
It was right after school, and I was seated at my desk correcting some papers when I noticed his lanky sixteen year old form standing before me. Jesse and I had not gotten along, did not get along well at all. That's because he was a very lazy teenage boy. He got through high school thus far on his basketball skills, and most other teachers seemed to turn a blind eye on the fact that he was charming them with his skill on the court and his million dollar smile. He didn't like English Class. I guess it clashed with his "street jargon."
Hell, he didn't like schoolwork of any kind. What he did like was fucking every girl he could get his large black hands on. And from what I heard around school, it wasn't just large black hands that won the young white girls over. Talk was he was endowed like a horse.
I mean, I knew several teachers who visited the boys' locker room just to verify the rumor. These were straight teachers. And the report they gave was that the rumor was correct. The handsome black boy got on well with other students, but they all treated him with some kind of special respect, like he was untouchable, above them in some way. In the lunch room for example, when he came to a table, other kids would move aside, or even leave if he told them to.
Now, handsome, black, Jesse Coulter stood before my desk. He should have been playing basketball, and I was the reason he wasn't.
"You get me benched?" He asked with a thick, husky, masculine voice.
"No Jesse, you got yourself benched. You didn't hand in the last two homework assignments, and you failed the last three tests."
He stood up talker, straightening his shoulders which usually slouched. "I been busy."
I looked uip at him. He was handsome, I had to say that for him. So dark with flashing teeth.
"Too busy to do your schoolwork? Then maybe you need a break from basketball."
"You know the school never go for that. I the star of the school."
"Not this week. Not until you get those assignments in and do better on the check tests."
"Fuck that."
I snapped up. I could feel the heat of anger rising from my reddening face.
"Don't you speak that way to me!"
Suddenly I was standing in front of him. I could smell his musk. He was about my height, but only sixteen. His strong face had an arrogance about it that was intimidating.
"Look, teach, how the fuck can I take time out to study, when I got to play basketball and fuck half the white pussy in the school?"
I was speechless. I just stood there.
"An, then there's all them female teachers in the school like Miss Mortenson who need my big black dick. And all them faggot teachers too."
"That is enough. I want you out of here and down to the office. Now!"
His eyes burned cold, the white around the cornea clear and ivory.
"Listen, Asswipe. You think I gonna let one cocksucking teacher fuck up my position here at the school? Shit, I already offered two scholarships to good colleges, and I only a sophomore. You the one who is gonna get on board here and learn some respect for a black star like me!"
And with that, he slapped me. He drew back one large black hand and slapped my face, hard. My head spun. I had never experienced anything like it in my life. I grant you, I am not a very physical person, although I do swim at the gym to keep a fairly good body. I am not into sports, and prefer Faulkner to Football. And this teenage black boy had just slapped me. I reached out to grab a fistful of his t-shirt, but he slappe
I sat naked on the bench in the health club locker room, staring at the tiles on the floor between my feet, but really looking at nothing. I was waiting for Jamal to decide to come up ant talk to me. He was this muscular teenage nigger who frequented the club and had ruined my life in the last few weeks. I was ordered to sit naked on the bench without a towel or anything to cover my nakedness. I had to keep my legs spread and my cock and balls visible for the anyone In the locker room who wanted a look. I knew instantly that it had been a mistake to sign up at the inner city health club which was eighty percent black, but It was near my house and cheap which was even more important.
The harassment had started on my first visit. Dark skinned, muscular black boys bouncing around the locker room with their huge dicks and pendulous sacks of balls swinging, high fiving each other and laughing and rapping, and there I was, this moderately built white guy of thirty two.
I will never forget coming back from the shower and one chocolate skinned thug of about eighteen let out a "weeeeeeeow" kind of sound and then said very loudly to me, loudly enough for all his pals to hear, "White man, how the hell can you fuck wit such a small dick?" They all roared with laughter and I turned bright red. Before I left that first time, I med Jamal. He eased up to me while I was packing my gym bag. He is one good looking darkie, I will say that for him. He flashed me a big white toothed smile and said he hoped I wasn't thinking of quitting the club. He said he was friends with the manager and they had my address and shit, and it would be really unfortunate if I decided to quit. Then he laid one large basketball player sized hand on my shoulder and said that he would see me at the same time the next day.
Well, that's how it started. It got worse each time I went to the club. Jamal and the other niggers got me to get towels for them, had me scrub their backs in the shower, even made me pick their dirty stinking jock straps up off the floor. They sent their filthy jocks and socks home with me to wash for them.
Now let me state here once and for all, that I am in no way at all gay. I don't think I ever even had a gay thought. So all of this really repulsed me. They would brush up against me so their big fat black dicks rubbed my body. They would make constant jokes about me being a faggot.
So I had it out with Jamal. I told him I was a single parent with a thirteen year old daughter and in no way gay, and I wanted to quit the club. That mention of my daughter was the biggest mistake of my life. Jamal demanded to see a photo of her. Her name is Crissy. After that, all they talked about was "Crissy the Cunt" in the locker room.
"Some fourteen year old school boy probably shoving his dick in her right now while you is at da club."
They would say things like that. Jamal would ask, "Do you suppose she had ever sucked black dick?" I told them she was totally innocent, and they should keep their foul mouths to themselves. They beat the shit out of me.
I didn't go to the club for a week. All the windows were broken on my car, and my newspaper was stolen, and somebody pissed all over our door. I received a package at work, and when I opened it, there was a pile of shit in a box. I was going nuts with anguish. I thought of going to the police, but I knew I would face even worse if I did. So I went back to the club. That was two months ago. A lot had happened in those two months.
Now I sat waiting for Jamal to speak with me. He walked up, stark naked. The first thing I saw were his huge brown feet next to me. I looked up at his long muscular legs. How could I miss the seven inch flaccid dick, thick as a flashlight and the ball sack that looked like it had oranges in it. It was fucking obscene. His stomach was hard and tight. His ass was one of those round tight nigger bubble butts. His chest well defined with large nipples. He had a killer smile, thick nigger lips, and dark flashing eyes that often looke
Why don't you just suck a nice, long turd out of Malda's rancid asshole? Lick that shit right up. That way, you'll get the best of both worlds.