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Thanked Posts by Discount Whore 2.0
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2017-07-18 at 3:41 AM UTC in The Retarded Thread: Click Here for AIDSHydro I want to see the vintage camera you took that pic withThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-07-18 at 8:07 AM UTC in The Retarded Thread: Click Here for AIDSwhats a syncan?The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-07-18 at 8:05 AM UTC in I want to share this sex letter written by James JoyceIm fond of the fact that he calls his dick a "fat mickey"
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2017-07-15 at 1:51 AM UTC in I want to share this sex letter written by James JoyceAuthor of Ulysses and Finnegan's Wake if you don't know who he is
My sweet little whorish Nora I did as you told me, you dirty little girl, and pulled myself off twice when I read your letter. I am delighted to see that you do like being fucked arseways. Yes, now I can remember that night when I fucked you for so long backwards. It was the dirtiest fucking I ever gave you, darling. My prick was stuck in you for hours, fucking in and out under your upturned rump. I felt your fat sweaty buttocks under my belly and saw your flushed face and mad eyes. At every fuck I gave you your shameless tongue came bursting out through your lips and if a gave you a bigger stronger fuck than usual, fat dirty farts came spluttering out of your backside. You had an arse full of farts that night, darling, and I fucked them out of you, big fat fellows, long windy ones, quick little merry cracks and a lot of tiny little naughty farties ending in a long gush from your hole. It is wonderful to fuck a farting woman when every fuck drives one out of her. I think I would know Nora’s fart anywhere. I think I could pick hers out in a roomful of farting women. It is a rather girlish noise not like the wet windy fart which I imagine fat wives have. It is sudden and dry and dirty like what a bold girl would let off in fun in a school dormitory at night. I hope Nora will let off no end of her farts in my face so that I may know their smell also.
You say when I go back you will suck me off and you want me to lick your cunt, you little depraved blackguard. I hope you will surprise me some time when I am asleep dressed, steal over to me with a whore’s glow in your slumberous eyes, gently undo button after button in the fly of my trousers and gently take out your lover’s fat mickey, lap it up in your moist mouth and suck away at it till it gets fatter and stiffer and comes off in your mouth. Sometimes too I shall surprise you asleep, lift up your skirts and open your drawers gently, then lie down gently by you and begin to lick lazily round your bush. You will begin to stir uneasily then I will lick the lips of my darling’s cunt. You will begin to groan and grunt and sigh and fart with lust in your sleep. Then I will lick up faster and faster like a ravenous dog until your cunt is a mass of slime and your body wriggling wildly.
Goodnight, my little farting Nora, my dirty little fuckbird! There is one lovely word, darling, you have underlined to make me pull myself off better. Write me more about that and yourself, sweetly, dirtier, dirtier.The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2017-07-15 at 3:41 AM UTC in Say something positive about the poster above youOne of the most consistently entertaining posters on the site.The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-07-14 at 5:34 AM UTC in The Retarded Thread: Click Here for AIDS
Originally posted by Sophie Real talk. You've never had a proper opiate experience if you seriously believe that. Besides there's a billion flavors. Sniff some oxy and you will have a rush and a good nod for about 6 hours. Injecting morphines makes a mongolroy cozy as fuck for a couple hours too. Fentanyl feels more stimulating especially when injected or intranasal, buprenorphine feels stimulating too if you take it transbucal or sublingual at least.
Here's the thing though. First couple times doing opiates will be less enjoyable than all the times you do after. It's as if your brain needs to acclimatize to the stuff before you get best results. Not kidding.
This or he lacks that one enzyme that helps him process opiates, had a friend like thatThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2017-07-13 at 8:27 AM UTC in Why are there not anymore 'big' rock bands?Because your wrinkly face popped out of your mothers cummy vagina one day and scared them away :0The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-07-04 at 7:28 PM UTC in Birthdays
Originally posted by hydromorphone Nah, he wasn't.
He drank a little as any normal teen does, but he never liked the taste of alcohol or beer. I don't either. It's just everyone goes out and gets shit-faced on their birthday… I guess he wanted to be different, and I followed suit, in his honor. It's funny to have to explain and tell people to fuck off when they INSIST you drink on your own god-damned birthday. It's just something I don't do. I don't drink often anyway, and hate hangovers, and feeling like shit from drinking. Like my father, I got drinking out of my system before turning 21 (probably 18-19) and really have no desire to most the time, unless I'm in a fuck-the-world, I wanna just be Jim Lahey mood, which usually corresponds to being very suicidal at the time.
My dad told me the story, even had the article in the news paper clipped from all those years ago, in the late 70's of a party that ended up killing I think 2 girls, I believe, and hospitalizing like a dozen people. The punch at this house party, not far from where he lived (I grew up at same house he did, and walked by this house almost everyday) got spiked with PCP. He liked the taste of sweet things, much like me, we used to say we'd be alcoholics if alcohol and liquor actually tasted good and sweet, which is probably true, but anyway, it was him and mostly girls that got reckt hardcore, because he and the bitches were hitting up the punch bowl.
He didn't go to the hospital. He walked home, fucked as shit, through a bunch of orange clay after it'd rained, almost being hit by a MAC truck he walked in front of and stopped like a deer in the headlights, with the guy laying on the horn, and nearly rolling the truck trying to swerve to avoid him, and threw his boots across the kitchen table when he got home, which his mother had just cleaned, and waxed the floors. He couldn't get out of bed for 3 days. He said it was one time he really thought he was close to dying, and apparently, after finding this all out, he probably was, since he drank more punch than anyone there.
My dad had all sorts of fucked up drug stories he'd told me… The 70's was a great time to do drugs, and be a drug using kid. Wish I coulda been there…
damn all you had to say was noThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2017-07-11 at 6:31 PM UTC in Recommend me CHILDREN'S BOOKS...hydro your kid is 2 right? get him those books with the textures.
if you come pick them up ill give you a whole box of books that my kids dont want/need anymore
edit: hydro im in Idaho but LANNY WONT LET ME POST ANYMORE TODAY BECAUSE SCRON CUCKED IT UP
Post last edited by Discount Whore 2.0 at 2017-07-12T03:08:49.387830+00:00The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2017-07-11 at 10:07 PM UTC in Birthdaysastrology is for tumblr fagsThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-07-11 at 7:13 PM UTC in The Retarded Thread: Click Here for AIDSEnough with the autism alreadyThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-07-11 at 6:47 PM UTC in The Retarded Thread: Click Here for AIDSi identify as a black so i cant be racistThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-07-04 at 6:13 PM UTC in Corrupt a Wish
Originally posted by Totse 2001 Granted but you just made the mistake of opening the lock of Pandoras box and cursed for eternity
I wish i could feel like I did with the med rush but longer pretty much every day
Granted but now you have no dick and are sexually frustrated all day.
I wish people would stop setting off fireworks in the dayThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2017-07-04 at 6:14 PM UTC in Corrupt a WishThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-06-24 at 2:34 AM UTC in I want to share a reddit post, I promise its gooditt people have no attentions or spansThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-06-23 at 10:55 PM UTC in I want to share a reddit post, I promise its goodhttps://np.reddit.com/r/TalesFromRetail/comments/6clezo/sir_sir_you_are_on_fire_sir/
"I tell this story constantly as basically my prime example of why I legitimately love my job. If you ever meet me IRL and say I ripped off my own reddit post, I will cry.
ALRIGHT.
So I work in a grocery store, as one does, and I sell death and false hope, as one also does. That is to say, cigarettes and lottery. This is important, because I am working the customer service desk. We're the last thing you see on the way out, and often the first stop on the way in if you're the kind of guy who's 50-something and your mustache is literally yellow with nicotine, but then we fall into a completely different story.
For now, I would like to discuss two people. The first is the Drunkigh man. I say this because I am reasonably certain he was on EVERYTHING.
I prefer doing this in person because it's hard to describe this walk, so you're going to have to do it for me. Make the font size bigger, and get out of your chair.
Okay, good work. Now, lean your waist back as far as you can while remaining standing. Good. Brace yourself on something. Don't injure yourself for the sake of a story now.
Now, take a step forward, leaning forward at the same time. You should be bent over forward like a broken-down wind-up doll. Now, you can right yourself, because you are not the drunkigh man. You are not in need of the second person,
THE BEST FRIEND IN THE WORLD.
This man is stone cold sober. He is physically righting the drunkigh man after every step. He is apologizing to everyone in a five foot radius like some kind of support class in a MOBA noone has ever wanted to play. This man is enduring for reasons beyond my comprehension, and he has not yet begun to show the true brilliance of his inner light of goodness.
The Drunkigh man looks at me. His finger raises, I suspect to try to discern which of the three of me was the real one, judging from the lack of focus in his eyes. And he says to me, with a firm, slurred determination..
'I want shome...'
'I want shome shmokes.'
I will not fault the man his desire for tobacco. It may be the one chemical he has yet to ingest today. Unfortunately, I am strictly forbidden from using telepathy at work since the incident. Therefore, I bravely stride into the bog of futility.
"What sort of smokes can I get you?" I say, knowing fully well what's about to happen. Sadly, professionalism requires that occasionally you accept you are making an irrelevant gesture.
To his credit, he seemed thoughtful for approximately five to ten seconds. My lineup consisted of him and one other person, whom seemed reasonably amused by the proceedings. The drunkigh man's cogitation ceases. He looks at me.
"I want..."
"I want shome smokes," He says, more satisfiedly this time. He has, after all, answered my query beyond any reasonable doubt. Any further confusion is purely on my part. Luckily, for my inferior intellect, the BEST FRIEND IN THE WORLD steps in.
"Just get him something cheap."
Which I can do, easily, and I put it on the table. He surprisingly dextrously removes his debit card from his wallet, and somehow, successfully swipes it. But now our hero is faced with an obstacle; He must recall and successfully input four consecutive digits to retrieve his prize.
"Zero," He says, stirring ancestral memories to the forefront of his awareness. Leaning back, to better view the pinpad, his finger firmly presses against the button. Success!
Time passes. Sweat beads mildly on his forehead. It was summer, though, so maybe it was that? It's been years.
"Zero," He concludes, with another push of the button. You may think I am changing the code for the sake of the innocent. I am not. You may think there are bank policies that prevent the horror you're about to witness. I believed so too. We are both wrong.
The third "Zero" is said somewhat tentatively. He is unsure. His mouth twitches. He cannot afford a mistake now when so much is on the line. Should he try again? No! No, he must be bold. He must strive forward, he must--
"ZERO!" The resounding cry of memories successfully penetrating to the surface. Why, yes, his pin was 0000.
And it worked. I know it worked, because the error code it gave me was for insufficient funds.
He is thoughtful, for a moment, but he did not come this far to be stymied. No, a hero must rail against the darkness of financial void.
"Try again," He says, considering. He must adapt his strategy, after all, if he is to triumph.
"Try again, but wisch...twenty bucksh extra cash."
You ask yourself, why would I agree to this? Why would I let this man attempt this thing, when there are now three people in my lineup, at least two of whom are laughing so hard I suspect they may require incontinence products in short order?
Because there is the slim chance this man intended to draw from his savings account, instead of his chequing. I would be doing this man a disservice if I did not provide him this opportunity.
He swipes his card. I'm not certain which he pressed, because I am distracted. I smell something.
I have a particularly weak sense of smell, so it's intriguing to me when I smell anything. Pot, perfume, the odd scent of smoke--well, the deli has caught fire a few times this year, so I look over and..they're not panicking. Very well, I am hallucinating the smell of smoke, I decide. Perhaps my brain has decided to commit itself to an honorable suicide.
"Zero," He continues. He has to drudge through a lot. I'm going to forgive him. If I was as inebriated as he, I would not remember my PIN either. This man has fought to get where he is right now, and the BEST FRIEND is doing his damndest to do damage control.
I will skip the third and fourth zeroes, as nothing of import occurs. I will, however, give you the regrettable conclusion; Insufficient funds.
Our drunkigh man is in a crisis, now. He looks to me. Taps his chin. He has to do something. He has to save his social standing in front of the five people now waiting in line.
Inspiration hits.
"Try again," He says, with the smug expression of a japanese prosecutor with too many cravats, "But wisch shirty bucksh extra cash."
Perhaps it is me. Perhaps I am misunderstanding his goals and dreams. I should clarify.
"So you did not have seven dollars and fifty cents," I ask, "But to be clear, you are absolutely certain you DO have thirtyseven dollars and fifty cents."
"Yeah!" He says proudly. I suppose, as I resignedly let him swipe, I will give him this. I look to the Best Friend. He understands. Everything is on the line now, I will have to ask him to leave after th--
I smell something. I'm sure of it.
"Zero."
No. No, I don't know wh---
"Zero."
There is a pillar of smoke rising from this man's crotch. Well, no. It's more like an inverted pyramid. I'm amazed he can't see it.
I have said many things in retail. "Hi, how are you?" "Yes, we will allow you to return this salt, I apologize for its high sodium content," "Please do not urinate in the bottle return."
It has been nearly a decade, and I still have not had to repeat the day I said,
"Sir? Sir, you are on fire, sir!"
"WHOA!" He says, leaping into action. Action, of course, being two feet behind him. His arms windmill. It's not terribly effective.
The good news is, I'm slightly wrong. He's wearing a hoodie. The fire has started in his hoodie pocket, and it's about three inches in diameter, spewing smoke like a dyspeptic dragon. I assume dragons do that when they have dyspepsia. I'm not a dragon specialist.
The better news is, do you remember that man I called the Best Friend In The World?
Because he has a tired expression on his face, right now.
And he steps over. He puts his hand into the burning pocket, because of course he does. He pulls out the lit cigarette that has been in his pocket for the duration of this excruciatingly long transaction. He puts it out on his bare hands because he lives in a different world, one where we don't register pain.
He then puts the fire out with his bare hands because he is fully invested in this man's wellbeing, and agreed to sacrifice his own in what I can only assume is a Faustian bargain for immortality.
There is a long moment.
"i should"
The drunkigh man seems contrite. He is aware he has committed some vague social faus pax, as near as I can tell.
"i should go. now."
He is in the process of putting his debit card back into his wallet, when the Best Friend In The World spots something.
"Is that--is that a ten dollar bill?!"
"yeah but i--"
The best friend rips the ten dollar bill out of the wallet, and places it down.
So, TL;DR I still made the sale, and that's all that really matters."The following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2017-07-04 at 6:09 PM UTC in Self Mutilation
Originally posted by hydromorphone I am very apathetic today. Yesterday I gave so much of a shit about the world, people I care about, my son, Piles of Crack, everything… it just zapped me of everything, and now I feel nothing- I don't give a good, goddamned fuck about anything or anyone.
You probably shouldn't be a motherThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire! -
2017-06-20 at 8:50 PM UTC in So, I don't have a dickThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-06-25 at 10:13 PM UTC in etizolam is fundamentally a pretty good drugThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
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2017-06-25 at 10:12 PM UTC in The Retarded Thread: Click Here for AIDSI hope malice kills everybody here except for RisirThe following users say it would be alright if the author of this post didn't die in a fire!
