Schizodoll

hey kitten. daddy needs to talk to you. your kink blog is great, but you are not highlighting the words correctly. kitten. stop highlighting. this is shit. did you seriously highlight that period. kitten.

everybody is so mean to me, kupo

WE WATCHED 100 AIS RAP BATTLE A KID UNTIL HE DIED AND WE DIDN'T DO A DAMN THING TO STOP THEM. ARE WE MEN OR ARE WE BEAST

Top contender for my dumbest post ever

very entranced and enamoured with this deeply mad rant post I read about leon kennedy erectile dysfunction and how physically impossible it would be for leon kennedy to have erectile dysfunction and how according to consulted medical and fitness experts erectile dysfunction is impossible for leon kennedy to have. if I am honest I cannot stop thinking of the improbable case of leon kennedys impossibly limp penis

thinking about the improbable case of leon kennedys impossibly limp penis again

Leon Kennedy is not allowed to have a limp dick unless your parents are at least 49 years old(?)

why would you put something in my ass. that's stupid.

im literally divinely favoured

fucking the everything bagel for everything

everything? including war?

fucking the war bagel for war

okay but sean kingston literally had a point

i see a beautiful woman and become inconsolably suicidal

trying to get the funny medieval peasants to try my future dorito and accidentally stumbling onto the communal fencepost hosting one of many rural german cat-mutilating games that will later be a wedge in relations between the urban and agricultural communities, shocking me into a months-long silence

getting served what can only be described as "mold from a random log of fallen wood floating in a stein of watered-down beer" as a gift in return for the doritos and getting an experience that can only be described as "Protestant Ayahuasca"

going south to seek some sort of normalcy which I might disrupt, where in the refuge I am served something which dripped from a statue. I ask what it is. it's from the bones inside, I am told, and it leaks forever, and it brings an ecstatic state

The peasants will occasionally hearken back to you, in years to come, as the strange traveler with the unusually melancholic disposition—in reference to your distress at encountering normal everyday things. Only very rarely do they recall your odd bag of fried pasta with what could best be described as a petty-aristocrat amount of seasoning.

If that, honestly.

prevailing complaint: they were not sweet enough