No Words
No Words

No Words

Phil
Phil

Phil

Here
Here

Here

And
And

And

Do You Understand Now
Do You Understand Now

Do You Understand Now

Hoodcomedy
Hoodcomedy

Hoodcomedy

family and friends
 family and friends

family and friends

do you understand
 do you understand

do you understand

your mind
 your mind

your mind

no idea
 no idea

no idea

🔥 | Latest

what is going on: I don’t understand what is going on.
what is going on: I don’t understand what is going on.

I don’t understand what is going on.

what is going on: This could save a mans life... pregnant D not pregnant D CD This story posted by a guy on Reddit really amazed me. Basically he was in his bathroom one day and found his ex girlfriends pregnancy test kit. For a bit of a laugh he decided to pee on it. To his utter shock and surprise, the results came up with 2 lines as per the image below. This as we all know basically means he is pregnant right? Well obviously he is not pregnant but he thought it was really funny anyway. He took to Reddit where he posted the picture. In the comments someone said “if this is true, you should check yourself for testicular cancer" and that he needed to get to his GP as soon as possible. It was lucky this chain of events happened as when his GP checked him over, it turned out that he had testicular cancer. He was fortunate enough to catch it in the early stages. So what is going on here? Well the pregnancy test is actually looking for something called Human chorionic gonadotropin HCG . This is produced in the placenta of a woman and is thus a good test of pregnancy. It turns out that HCG is also produced by men who suffer from testicular cancer. captive-wheatley: makingplansdrawingmaps: cupcakeforger: timetobe-me: intellectualbadarse: HOLY SHIT SIGNAL BOOST SIGNAL BOOST THIS REDDIT FOR GOOD! This is actually true and could make a difference Holy shit.
what is going on: This could save a mans life...
 pregnant D
 not pregnant D
 CD
 This story posted by a guy on Reddit really amazed me.
 Basically he was in his bathroom one day and found his
 ex girlfriends pregnancy test kit. For a bit of a laugh he
 decided to pee on it. To his utter shock and surprise, the
 results came up with 2 lines as per the image below.
 This as we all know basically means he is pregnant
 right? Well obviously he is not pregnant but he thought it
 was really funny anyway. He took to Reddit where he
 posted the picture. In the comments someone said “if
 this is true, you should check yourself for testicular
 cancer" and that he needed to get to his GP as soon as
 possible. It was lucky this chain of events happened as
 when his GP checked him over, it turned out that he had
 testicular cancer. He was fortunate enough to catch it in
 the early stages. So what is going on here? Well the
 pregnancy test is actually looking for something called
 Human chorionic gonadotropin HCG . This is produced in
 the placenta of a woman and is thus a good test of
 pregnancy. It turns out that HCG is also produced by men
 who suffer from testicular cancer.
captive-wheatley:

makingplansdrawingmaps:

cupcakeforger:

timetobe-me:

intellectualbadarse:

HOLY SHIT SIGNAL BOOST

SIGNAL BOOST THIS

REDDIT FOR GOOD!

This is actually true and could make a difference

Holy shit.

captive-wheatley: makingplansdrawingmaps: cupcakeforger: timetobe-me: intellectualbadarse: HOLY SHIT SIGNAL BOOST SIGNAL BOOST THIS...

what is going on: thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
what is going on: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejor...

what is going on: dkc-quotes:what is going on what is happening
what is going on: dkc-quotes:what is going on what is happening

dkc-quotes:what is going on what is happening

what is going on: Jon Coopere @joncoopertweets Follow Trump is running television ads to ask people to call 800-350-6647 and press 1 to DEMAND that Pelosi and Schumer fund the wall. Buried at the end, the announcer says, "press 2 if you do NOT support funding the wall Friends, you know what to do. #NoWall 12:07 PM-17 Jan 2019 114 Retweets 120 Likes 24 tl 114 120 kevindrakewriter: nitramgniknilra: bogleech: systlin: m-is-for-mungo: calleo: Oh my god, the 50s TV announcer voice at that number… Also, it will say press 1 to support the wall, repeat that, make the sound a cell phone makes when a call has been disconnected if you don’t respond, and then say “Press 2 if you do not support the wall.” Did it to fact check, and it does in fact make the “end call” noise making you believe the call was done before you could press 2 to say you don’t support the wall. I’ve done this four times today.  okay but does pressing 2 even actually do anything or did they probably just rig it to produce their pro-wall data anyway? In twenty years this post will be in a textbook to teach kids why neoliberalism was a useless joke. Know that this isn’t Trump’s ad but House Freedom Fund, a political action committee closely affiliated with the conservative Republican House Freedom Caucus. If you call this number you could be handing over your phone number to be robo called by this committee for fund raising. There is nothing impartial about this. It is pointless to act on this number as the source is already biased for the wall and any dissenting call will just have their data collected, probably; I don’t have any real evidence of this but that’s my guess as to what is going on here.
what is going on: Jon Coopere
 @joncoopertweets
 Follow
 Trump is running television ads to ask people
 to call 800-350-6647 and press 1 to DEMAND
 that Pelosi and Schumer fund the wall. Buried
 at the end, the announcer says, "press 2 if you
 do NOT support funding the wall
 Friends, you know what to do.
 #NoWall
 12:07 PM-17 Jan 2019
 114 Retweets 120 Likes
 24 tl 114 120
kevindrakewriter:

nitramgniknilra:

bogleech:


systlin:

m-is-for-mungo:

calleo:

Oh my god, the 50s TV announcer voice at that number…
Also, it will say press 1 to support the wall, repeat that, make the sound a cell phone makes when a call has been disconnected if you don’t respond, and then say “Press 2 if you do not support the wall.”


Did it to fact check, and it does in fact make the “end call” noise making you believe the call was done before you could press 2 to say you don’t support the wall.

I’ve done this four times today. 

okay but does pressing 2 even actually do anything or did they probably just rig it to produce their pro-wall data anyway?


In twenty years this post will be in a textbook to teach kids why neoliberalism was a useless joke.

Know that this isn’t Trump’s ad but 
House Freedom Fund, a political action committee closely affiliated with the conservative Republican House Freedom Caucus. 

If you call this number you could be handing over your phone number to be robo called by this committee for fund raising. There is nothing impartial about this. It is pointless to act on this number as the source is already biased for the wall and any dissenting call will just have their data collected, probably; I don’t have any real evidence of this but that’s my guess as to what is going on here.

kevindrakewriter: nitramgniknilra: bogleech: systlin: m-is-for-mungo: calleo: Oh my god, the 50s TV announcer voice at that number...