Weeb Slinger
kiwifarms.net
- Joined
- Sep 4, 2019
Ethan Ralkieta
Could it really be that the crowdfunded testosterone injections are already exerting a strong defeminising effect upon your mannish, lesbian aunt Terry?
Possibly, however we are here to discuss Ethan Ralkieta, pictured idly dreaming of rolling, middle-aged Christian cleavage, stretching beyond the reach of the human eye, and a sex dungeon under every church.
This master of sharts is capable of rapidly terraforming any upholstered surface into an acreage of fecal swampland. It is the dream of every patriotic American that, one day, the chairs and sofas that have been graced by the leaking buttocks of Ralkieta will be herded together to create a new National Park.
Ralkieta claims that recently he has been able to pass a bar without going inside.
Liz Fongreer
We took DNA from the human termite who is currently gnawing at the structural supports of the Internet, to the long-term detriment of themselves and everybody else, and braided it with genetic material (okay, drool) harvested from the World's most persistent Pepé Le Pew impersonator, to create Fongreer – a kind of Jesus Christ with tits, voted most-likely to use the Woodstock 1969 festival as a springboard for the foundation of a Californian sex cult.
Due to an unfortunate consent accident involving a dog, permission to use Greer's DNA in this regrettable experiment was technically not obtained. If you mention this anywhere online, we will use our connections at Google to destroy your life.
Jonathan Yaniventi
Finer minds than my own have speculated on the likely outcome, were the DNA of shrill vagina-haver – Brittany Venti – to somehow merge with that of the scarecrow-haired, bonus-hole owner – Jonathan Yaniv. No one could have anticipated that the behemoth that shambled out of the matter transformer would resemble the kind of deep-sea creature, that the occupants of the ill-fated Titan submarine might have seen peering in at them through the toilet porthole, in their final desperate moments.
The expanded peripheral vision afforded by Yaniventi's widely-spaced eyes, allow for a walking aid to be swung at a perceived threat in a flailing 270-degree arc, though with no improvement in accuracy.
Could it really be that the crowdfunded testosterone injections are already exerting a strong defeminising effect upon your mannish, lesbian aunt Terry?
Possibly, however we are here to discuss Ethan Ralkieta, pictured idly dreaming of rolling, middle-aged Christian cleavage, stretching beyond the reach of the human eye, and a sex dungeon under every church.
This master of sharts is capable of rapidly terraforming any upholstered surface into an acreage of fecal swampland. It is the dream of every patriotic American that, one day, the chairs and sofas that have been graced by the leaking buttocks of Ralkieta will be herded together to create a new National Park.
Ralkieta claims that recently he has been able to pass a bar without going inside.
Liz Fongreer
We took DNA from the human termite who is currently gnawing at the structural supports of the Internet, to the long-term detriment of themselves and everybody else, and braided it with genetic material (okay, drool) harvested from the World's most persistent Pepé Le Pew impersonator, to create Fongreer – a kind of Jesus Christ with tits, voted most-likely to use the Woodstock 1969 festival as a springboard for the foundation of a Californian sex cult.
Due to an unfortunate consent accident involving a dog, permission to use Greer's DNA in this regrettable experiment was technically not obtained. If you mention this anywhere online, we will use our connections at Google to destroy your life.
Jonathan Yaniventi
Finer minds than my own have speculated on the likely outcome, were the DNA of shrill vagina-haver – Brittany Venti – to somehow merge with that of the scarecrow-haired, bonus-hole owner – Jonathan Yaniv. No one could have anticipated that the behemoth that shambled out of the matter transformer would resemble the kind of deep-sea creature, that the occupants of the ill-fated Titan submarine might have seen peering in at them through the toilet porthole, in their final desperate moments.
The expanded peripheral vision afforded by Yaniventi's widely-spaced eyes, allow for a walking aid to be swung at a perceived threat in a flailing 270-degree arc, though with no improvement in accuracy.