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  1. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    Thousands of years ago on the Eurasian steppe were two brothers. The younger one went east, the older one went west.

    Thousands of years later their descendants reunited.

    • 1 month ago
      Anonymous

      beautiful

  2. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    >he is always dancing…he says he will never die..

  3. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    "OI!", the single syllable pierces into my dreamless half sleep. And then another, "OI!" and another, "OI!". The unceasing barrage of affirmations finally jolts me out of my sleep and I awaken groggily to a sight I don't entirely understand.
    A heavy set skinhead seems to be loudly singing the praises of an small statured Indian service worker his arm wrapped tightly around him, the small worker melting into the folds of his aged and tattooed blubber.
    The confusion of the scene before me unravels like an equation; (American History X + 30 years + 100 pounds + i) and further terms quickly follow.
    "OI! THIS HERE IS MY BROTHER AND AINT NONE OF YOU EVER GONNA TOUCH HIM" he bellows in a shreklike manner, a middle aged librarian feeling that she had taken in the extent of the scene looks back down at her phone, "HEY YOU PAY ATTENTION MISS, THIS IS IMPORTANT"
    she does not respond. "NOW THIS HERE IS MY BROTHER...ERR WHATS YOUR NAME BROTHER?", "sanjeet, sir", "WELL I'LL BE DAMNED, THIS HERE IS MY BROTHER SANJEET AND IF ANYONE ONE OF YOUS MESS WITH HIM, YOUS MESSING WITH...". Suddenly his voice trails
    off as the train dissipates around me, I am shoved into a black void, my head fills with context, Simulation run #43223 variation e-2312, fresh configuration straight from the eggheads downstairs. I browse through the error log,
    it looks like the improbability vector ended up too high and the self consistency of the simulation broke down, but damnit
    we were so close, so close to finally solving racism once and for all.

    • 1 month ago
      Anonymous

      Solving racism is easy. All you need is a bevy of young attractive females from the oppressed race. That's why America and Japan get along so well–American men think Japanese women are hot, and conversely, Japanese men think American women are hot. If there are still any oppressed races, maybe their women are ugly.

      • 1 month ago
        Anonymous

        they aren't even thick bro

        • 1 month ago
          Anonymous

          Not everyone wants their women thick. You zoomers are the worst. Besides, some Japanese women are borderline thick.

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            She got no cakes tho

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            not a zoomer and that picture is revolting unless you like men

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            You think a beautiful Japanese girl with natural F cups is in any way male? You're completely messed up in the head.

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            homie u gay

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            Ick. Total bonerkill.

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            Gross

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            hot

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            She's so beautiful, her very existence once cooled down international tensions...
            https://thisistrue.com/saayairie/

  4. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    He had no loicense. He WAS the loicense.

  5. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    Indian guy doesn't know yet he we'll be eaten by this forest troll in about half an hour. But he start realizing isomething is wrong. And that's how story begins. Please continue.

  6. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    A hush fell over the passengers as he stepped inside. At first glance, he wasn't much to look at–a pudgy, balding, thirtysomething nerd, dressed unfashionably. A short gasp erupted from a woman as he paid his fare. All eyes were on him as he strode down the aisle, people turning to gaze longingly as he passed them by.
    "My, you're a desirable young man," creaked an old crone. "If only I were forty years younger."
    "If only you were, milady," he oozed as he brushed her shoulder. Her cheeks immediately flushed bright red.
    "There's an empty seat next to me!" called out a vaguely presentable lady, patting the space next to her expectantly.
    He looked her over before continuing. "No thank you." Her face fell as tears welled in her eyes.
    A handsome stud glared at him. "What the hell *is* it with you?" he growled. "I've never seen someone attract so much attention in my life."
    His face erupted into a smug smile. "Have you ever heard of human mating pheromones?"
    The stud's brow furrowed. "I didn't think those actually existed."
    "They do now," he proclaimed. "I'm a biochemist, and I've finally perfected the recipe."
    "Wow!" the stud exuded. "You'll make a fortune!"
    "All I care about," he revealed as he passed by, "is finding the woman of my dreams. I'm heading to the club district, and I will meet her tonight."
    Several other women tried to get his attention as he headed toward the back of the bus. "Too fat...too old...too much makeup..." He left behind a trail of crestfallen suitors.

    • 1 month ago
      Anonymous

      He spotted a seat next to a fat, balding, middle-aged, shirtless, tattooed lout in blue jeans. "Wow," he exclaimed as he sat down. "I need a break from all that female attention."
      "I'll certainly give you that," oozed the lout.
      "Thanks." He suddenly turned to look at the lout, who was gazing at him longingly. "What are you doing?"
      "Little man," the lout explained, "I think you're just about the cutest little thang I've ever seen."
      "Oh, hell," he shuddered. "I didn't think you were gay."
      The lout blinked, pondering the idea for a moment. "I'm not," he declared. "At least, I wasn't. But one look at you, and I think I've changed my mind! I can't even explain why!" He cringed as the lout put his arm around him; his eyes watered as the stench from the lout's armpit threatened to overwhelm him.
      "But I'm not–" he began.
      The lout's face showed unbridled fury. "You best not be toyin' with my heart, sugar drawers," the lout growled under his breath. "Or else I'll break you in two and feed you to my pigs!"
      His eyes constricted as terror washed over his face. "And you'd better start smilin'," the lout warned. "Let's see it! Gimme a nice friendly smile!"
      Trying to fight through his terror, he put on the brightest smile he could manage. "That's good," the lout soothed. "Now keep it that way."
      He sat there, frozen in fear, as the lout began talking loudly, his voice carrying throughout the entire bus. "Ladees an' genemma!" he slurred. "I'd like everyone to meet my new favorite guy in the whole wide world!" A smattering of applause erupted; the lout continued. "I'm gonna take 'im home with me and show him the best life he could ever expect on my daddy's pig farm!"
      As the bus filled with cheers and congratulations, he swore under his breath. "I should've made an antidote."

      • 1 month ago
        Anonymous

        Wow being a woman sounds terrible

        • 1 month ago
          Anonymous

          Maybe you should read this book:
          https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Self-Made_Man_(book)
          The author disguised herself as a man to see what their lives were like. By the end, she realized how difficult it is for men, and expressed her gratitude that she was female.

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            lmao so many humorless mra homosexuals on here

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            so many incel NEET shutins with room-temperature IQs on here

          • 1 month ago
            Anonymous

            It’s almost like there are different challenges for each. Crazy, I know, but I’ve guess you’ve had a difficult life and it’s because you are a man

  7. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    Brighton played Newcastle that afternoon and the metro was a potpourri of hooligans and low-income scrape-the-toilet workers from the far corners of the dead empire. A Sri Lankan man, a hopeful two decades from death or deportation, had the particular misfortune of wearing a striped black and white shirt under his neon jacket. It wasn't long before the hooligans noticed.

    A great commotion arose amongst them, similar to what one would have imagined the Carib natives perform after seeing those strange vessels approach the horizon. Brighton needed the win. Simply, the Sri Lankan was a dangerous omen.

    "What's this bloke thinkin'?"

    "I reckon he thinks he can cam spit on we faces, eh?"

    Brian, a sturdy wall of mass, shirtless, imposing as those old edifices the train left behind, sturdy yet decrepit, graffitied with the symbols of his dying people rose amongst them. The hooligans had their champion.

    He approached the Sri Lankan and met him in the eyes, pupils widening as if the moon itself was collapsing upon him.

    "My mum raised me to respect my fellow man as I respect meself. Our good lawd since commanded to treat others as they do to ye. I seek no quarrel with you mate. I only ask for the smallest of gestures of respect, as I would do, to sip up that jacket and hide those colors out of respect for our team and pride, Brighton."

    The Sir Lankan did not understand a word he said. And simply nodded sheepishly.

    "Mate, sip up your jacket," Brian warned. His crew watched, not obliging would be the most profound of insults and with that audience, he would be forced to respond devastatingly.

    "S-sir? I have no monies. Sorry sir," the Sri Lankan squeaked micefully.

    Brian sat by him coming onto him like a Moby dick upon Queequeg.

    "Cam on, mate, I don't want no trouble, not today, not on game day."

    Why create trouble? Why beat this innocent man, as dazed and confused by modern Britain, as he was, as anyone? Just another man heading home from work. They might hate him for it, and ridicule him from thereon, but something changed within Brian's heart. He saw something in those deer in the headlight eyes of the Sri Lankan. He saw himself.

    "Cam on, I am messing with you mate, cam on have a laugh I say." He hugs him like a brother now, "Yous ot to see the game with us, yous coming along, I care no longer what your team or creed be, and I reckon any man willing to work a good days work and drink a beer is a friend to me."

    The hooligans cheer, moved by the speech. They lift the man from his seat and carry him out of the train victoriously onto the stadium. And the icon of the blessed African man in the train looks over them with a smile, for good had triumphed that day in England.

    • 1 month ago
      Anonymous

      >Brighton
      >Newcastle
      Big mistake, Blokes like Tango don't give a shit about Saudi-owned EPL teams. They only care about their 5th tier local shitters.

      • 1 month ago
        Anonymous
  8. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    "Oi mates this chap is bald as a mankey, look at 'em lads. Least I gots hair when i don shave, 'e looks like an orange 'e does."

  9. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    It was another busy day in Mr. Wonka's factory, but this was one was specially busy.Chocolate river got bitter due to the fat german kid's farts. Charlie was preparing for the first day of work, packing his bag when he hesrd knocking to his door.
    - Charlie! Charlie!
    Screamed voice behind the door followed by another heavy knocks.
    -Come on out Charlie boy
    Charlie opened the door. It was noone else as Mr. Wonka himself?
    -Good morning Mr.Wonka!
    -Good morning good morning. Listen Charlie!
    He was visibly shaken
    -One of our Oompaloompas gone missing!
    -It can't be! Gasped Charle
    -It is true Charlie. Yesterday I counted them like I do every evening before going to sleep. Today before breakfest I counted them again and one of those purple cheeky bastards gone missing.
    -Wha--
    - Charlie he escaped the factory!!!
    - We have to find him Mr. Wonka! Charlie was now bit scared for the little fella, engkish streets were no safe place after all especially for single Oompaloomp.

    Charlie and Johnny Depp left rest of the Oompaloompas locked in the factory milkshake caves and went looking for the missing one ou... out...outside!!!

    They were looking in sewers, they were looking in candy shops, even in local zoo. There was no trace of the missing lad of the mysterious country of oompaloompas. When they were almost willing to stop Charlie proposed to use the old-fashioned tube to travel the city. For him it was something spectacular as he never hsd money for tickets before, but for Mr.Wonka that idea seemed loathsome. To travel together with city dwellers, moreover strangers! That though filled him with dread...

    • 1 month ago
      Anonymous

      Yet somehow Charlie managed to persuade him, he argumented that maybe poor Oompaloomp was looking for a shelter and confused ended up in one of the old smelly underground wagons.

      Mr. Wonka bought the tickets for both of then and they stepped inside the car. What appeared before their eyes-much to their surprisement was the missing Oompaloomp! He seemed to be in good humour, sitting next to plump fellow-a tatood bald man who was nor wearing any clothing except his pants and his shoes. The bald man was hugging Georgie(as that was the name given to the Oompalomp by Mr.Wonka) and screamed
      -Oi this cheeky little fella comes from India don't ya think? He asked the people commuting to work, that by chance were in the same car as he.
      Noone said a word
      -Leave Georgie at once you fat bastard.
      -Wha-- He didn't manage to end the word as Wonka's stick bonked him in the bald head. Surprised by that he sat in silence for a moment. Mr Wedel tryed to catch Georgie's hand but he suddenly went flying as the obese lad smacksd him with his big english belly.
      - As I wa' sayin' ''ho do you think yu 'r' huh? This little indian man is my best friend in the whole white world, I found him hungry on the street and gave him full english b'ekfest and a pint. Now he's mine understood. And he began laughing really hard. His laugh was so loud and so powerful that the cart started to shake.

      The passengers started to scream in fear as the compartment started to tilt little bit to the left the to the right to the left snd to the right, more and more.
      - We must do something. Screamed Charley. - Quick, everybody move to the left side of the car, when the bald guy laughs to the right and when he laughs to the left everybody run to the right wall.
      - A'IGHT! screamed the passengers
      Unfortunetelly the passengers happened to be australians! They messed up the directions and the cart started to roll, soon it was drivinf upside down and then Jack Sparrow came along and cut the fat lad with his cutlass.

      - ENIYGH!!! DEEP BASS VOICE silenced everyone, everything stopped. -Ley go 'ome charles Mr. Bonkers, ooutsid is scery oi wont to go 'ome.
      -Great, good that you finally came back to your senses Georgie, Charulum and I were very worried about you. I'm glad everything goes back how it supposed to be, but you'll get punished don't think that I'll forget
      -yizz Master whispered the small Oompaloomp, it crode a little and got even tinier in the eyes of charlatan and their boss

      Then they lived happily ever after...
      13 people died in the tube that day
      The End

  10. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    Sloth love Chunk.

  11. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    For 1000s of years the whiteman ruled this earth with kindness and respect to all its nations. That was until the israelites came along, and slowly dismantled the anglo empire bit by bit. Teaching anglo children to be ashamed of their race's achievements. Teaching blacks not to end up like white people, instead sell crack and listen to israeli funded rap music that promotes violence and the spreading of AIDS.
    These were the dark ages. The anglo empire had fallen yet the newsoutlets still blamed it for the worlds problems. Beacons of the humanity were branded with the mark of the white supremacist unless they bowed down to their foreskinless leaders. You're son would tell you he wanted to cut his dick off and you'd s have to sit there and accept it, lest the mob came after you!
    Very dark times indeed... Although through the mists of dispair that rose from the cracks of our once fallen empire, we found an unlikely ally in the pajeet people, who yearned, like all good people do, to belong to our empire once more.

  12. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    All his life Rajeesh had prided himself on his fearlessness. Over the course of his existence, he had barely ever felt a cold sweat or a twinge of terror when growing up in East London's harsh streets or drunken punters looking for a "paki c**t" to stuff in the trashbin.
    Now, however, all he could do was smile a forced, fake smile, and quiver in abject, palpable terror, a terror so intense he might pass out without deep concentration.
    A shirtless, inebriated footy fan, robustly built ands much taller than him, had stumbled onto the seat next to him on the subway, and immediately grabbed his shoulder half-heartedly, yet the grip of those thick fingers was sickeningly powerful.
    The passengers laughed and leered, some even took a picture as the pillar of flesh fueled by Beck's and Gregg's gestured with his hand toward Rajeesh' neck, indicating how easily he'd crush his neck were he a "pooftah or a nonce".
    The ogre clad in the skin of a man told Rajeesh he was a good lad and he'd not need to fear. Those words, spoken with with alarming sobriety naturally had an averse effect on the indian's terrified heart. Gripping his smartphone, which he couldn't dare to even put back in his pocket lest he anger the beast, he stared at the window on the tram's opposite side. Darkness greeted him, pitch black with flickering lights. He suddenly felt that this was hell, his own, personal hell, condemnded to forever be in the grips of a tattoed, shirtless northener and vaguely threatened until he gave into the fear gripping his soul and died.
    Suddenly the tram grinded to a halt.The beast rose with grace that belied his frame and headed to the open doors, releasing the dark-skinned man from his grip of forced friendliness.
    He was halfway through the doors when he turned back, staring the still mortified Rajeesh with a genuine smile, and almost shouting, said this to him:
    "Your a good lad, lad. Stay out of trouble, eh?"
    Transfixed on his gaze, Rajeesh could only utter one word.
    "Yes."
    The doors closed and the man was gone.
    Rajeesh quickly opened his smarphone and contacted a mental health hotline, A bored voice of a middle aged woman answered.
    Rajeesh wept the shameful tears of a scolded child to the confusion of the passengers and the chain-smoking woman at the phone. He had finally known genuine fear. His futile pride had been shattered.
    On this day, Rajeesh became a human being.

  13. 1 month ago
    Anonymous

    'ate racism
    'ate xenophobia
    'ate bigotry
    luv all people made in God's image
    luv pakis
    luv norf fc
    simple as

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