Joe Orr Road Rod wrote:
Joe Bore Ode wrote:
Ogie Oglethorpe wrote:
All women must be believed because no failed lawyer turned update anchor has ever invented a story about being raped in Mexico during Spring Break by a Marine. Such a thing would never happen.
Also a woman at a major state school would never invent a rape at an unnamed fraternity house and then send text messages to herself in order to gain the attention of a guy she likes who won't reciprocate. I can't think of any case where that occurred.
I can't wait for you to be doxxed and it turns out you're a convicted rapist. You're too triggered to not be.
Dude, I'm trying to help you with this mult. I even colored your handle to assist with the caricature, but you keep coming up weak. I'm actually starting to wonder if it's only my own narcissism making me think this is supposed to be a parody of me. Maybe it's not a mult at all.
Multing is a fuckin' cut throat game. A few months ago my wife and I wanted to catch a decent flick, maybe that Scorsese drama or some edgy indie flick, but these people ahead of us in line couldn't make up their fuckin' minds. I think they were one of those couples that frequently argue in public but love each other deep down. Sort of like Rick's marriage I suppose.When it got to our turn the broad at the counter said she couldn't sell us the tickets because the remaining tickets had been reserved by a party that hadn't shown up yet. Reserved? I never needed any reservation to see a flick at a fuckin' AMC. Anyway, we figured we could catch the same flick at a different theater down the road. For a quick minute though, I thought about misrepresenting myself as a member of the party that had "reserved" the tickets. I'm still pissed just thinking about it. Who the fuck reserves tickets to a flick and doesn't show up? Fuckin' douchebags. That's who. I don't own any mults but I figured I could create a mult-like persona in real-time to trick this broad. Before I got my game on though, I noticed the broad's name tag and realized she was the daughter of a friend I knew from high school. I quickly abandoned the plan. My old friend Enrique turned out to be a damn good private investigator with suburb instincts, and I knew he was coaching his daughter down the same path. She would have figured me out in less than five seconds.
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