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Minichan

Topic: official god blog .. lord_owen.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM started this discussion 2 months ago #73,066

this is the start of my blog.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) double-posted this 2 months ago, 8 minutes later[^] [v] #872,439

about riots.

16bitch !BMhSp1fpyA joined in and replied with this 2 months ago, 8 minutes later, 16 minutes after the original post[^] [v] #872,441

Dude, you are literally stalking me. Now you have a "blog"? Pathetic.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) replied with this 2 months ago, 7 minutes later, 23 minutes after the original post[^] [v] #872,442

THE ORIGIN OF EVIL


Gaddafi's Harem: Excerpt from the Sooraya rape episode.

OP's note: The Islamic world is an alien one to us. Steeped in violence, sadism, torture and ill treatment towards the weak, Islam is the ONLY religion which sanctions and abets in these activities.

Democracy ends up in Islamic fundamentalists coming to power, then replaced by military strong men who then coronate themselves as "Kings". In either case, innocent women and children suffer. Is it any wonder then, that Moslem men would rather butcher their daughters at birth?

Please keep in perspective the event recently at a mall in Saudi Arabia, wherein a "Western whore" caused multiple car crashes when Arabs went out of control on seeing a woman without a "hijab" and a garbage bag around herself. There was a small riot, traffic was disrupted as "men" followed this woman in to the mall, like a pack of hungry wolves.

This story here is heart wrenching, but in fact there is a sadistic silver lining to it. In this case, it is just 1 dictator raping children at his whim. However, in the case of Afghanistan, Pakistan or under the rule of Mohammed Morsi in Egypt, multiple "God men" and fundamentalists who evidently have the direct telephone number to "Allah", indulge in these very activities with impunity.

Better 1 than many, isn't it?

The Arabian peninsula is directly connected by land to Africa, and the lay of the land shows that eons ago, this land mass was in fact a part of Africa. The Haplogroup J1 dominant in Arab DNA (over 80%) is African based and the E1b1b1b Y chromosome common in Arabs originates from the E1b1b which comes from East Africa.

And we all know that similar anarchy exists in the continent of Africa.

And to the apologists: Yes, rape occurs in Europe, China, India, and other countries. I know in Los Angeles, where I live, rape is common and occurs with frightening frequency. However, in these places rape is a crime, and there are constitutional safe guards, laws and a legal system to prevent the rape and molestation of women. Even in India, where the media is portraying every rape, given the sensitivity of the issue, post the Delhi rape scene, the laws were changed, and the public have taken to the streets to demand better safeguards for women.

In complete contrast, in most Islamic countries, a woman is lashed 100 times and imprisoned for "fornication" when she is raped. Since Sharia law demands that when a woman files a complaint, she needs 5 unrelated male witnesses to be present, without which her complaint has no value. Of course, modern science such as evaluating the rape medically, DNA analysis are things Sharia law scoffs at. Thus the lack of a socio-justice system and the lack of a fear of punishment and social ostracization, emboldens the perverts to indulge in their sick sexual predation. Rape and molestation of women and children are more the norm than the exception in Islam and Moslem countries and communities, and indeed even in foreign countries where they settle in. Case and point: UK Child grooming gangs.

The story:
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

At age 15, Soraya was spotted by Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi when he visited her school. She was quickly abducted from her home in Sirte by his bodyguards and made his sex slave, joining many other girls who had been taken over the years. In this excerpt from Gaddafi’s Harem, she first encounters the colonel and learns about her new life.


We drove for quite a while. I had no idea of the time but it seemed interminable. We’d left Sirte and were tearing through the desert. I was looking straight ahead, not daring to ask any questions. And then we arrived in Sdadah, in a kind of encampment. There were several tents, more 4x4s, and an immense trailer, or rather an extremely luxurious camper van. Mabrouka headed for the vehicle, motioning me to follow her, and in another car that was turning back I thought I noticed one of the girls from school who’d also been chosen to welcome the Guide the previous day. That should have reassured me, and yet the moment I entered the camper an unspeakable sense of dread grabbed hold of me. As if my entire being was fighting against the situation. As if it knew intuitively that something very bad was being hatched.

Muammar Gaddafi was inside, sitting on a red massage chair, holding a remote control. He looked imperial. I took a step forward to kiss his hand, which he extended halfheartedly while looking away. “Where are Faiza and Salma?” he asked Mabrouka in an irritated voice. “They’re coming.” I was dumbfounded. Not even a glance at me. I didn’t exist. Several minutes went by; I didn’t know what to do with myself. He finally stood up and asked: “Where is your family from?”

“From Zliten.”

His face remained expressionless. “Get her ready!” he commanded, and left the room. Mabrouka motioned for me to sit down on a bench in a corner of the room, which was set up to look like a living room. The other two women came in, at ease, as if they were at home. Faiza smiled at me, approached me, and unceremoniously held on to my chin. “Don’t you worry, little Soraya!” she said, and then laughed and quickly left. Mabrouka was on the phone giving instructions for someone’s arrival, perhaps another girl like me, since I heard her say: “Bring her here.”

She hung up and turned to me: “Come! We’re going to take your measurements to get you some clothes. What is your bra size?” I was stunned. “I … I don’t know. Mama always buys me my clothes.” She looked annoyed and called Fatiha, another woman—well, actually, a strange person who had the voice and shoulders of a man but the imposing bust of a woman. She sized me up, then patted my hand and gave me a big wink. “So this is the new one? And where does this one come from?” She put a measuring tape around my waist and my chest, pressing hers beneath my chin. Then they wrote down my measurements and left the camper. I remained all alone, not daring to call out or move. Night was falling, and I didn’t have a clue. What would Mama think? Had they alerted her to the delay? What was going to happen here? And how would I be getting home?

After long minutes of waiting, Mabrouka reappeared. I was relieved to see her. She took me by the arm without a word and led me to a corner lab, where a blonde nurse took my blood. Then Fatiha dragged me to a bathroom. “Get undressed. You’re hairy. We need to get rid of all that.” She rubbed a depilatory cream on my arms and legs, then shaved me, adding: “We’re leaving the pubic hair.” I was nonplussed and embarrassed but, since I had to make some sort of sense of it all, I told myself it must be a hygiene thing for anyone who was to come near the Guide. They wrapped me in a robe and I went back to the living room. Mabrouka and Salma—the gun still on her belt—sat down near me.

“We’re going to dress you properly, put makeup on, and then you’ll be able to see Papa Muammar.”

“All this just to greet Papa Muammar? And when am I going home to my parents?”

“Later! First you have to greet your master.”

They handed me a G-string—something I’d never seen before—and a white satiny dress, slit at the sides and low-cut at the neck and back. My hair, now loosened, came down to my bottom. Fatiha applied makeup and perfume, then added a bit of gloss to my lips, something that Mama would never have allowed me to do. With a sternly critical eye, Mabrouka inspected the result. Then she took me by the hand and led me down the hall. She stopped in front of a door, opened it, and pushed me in.


Gaddafi was on his bed, naked. I was terrified. I covered my eyes and shrank back in shock, thinking: “There’s been a horrible mistake! I’m not meant to be here now. Oh, my God!” I turned around and saw Mabrouka there on the threshold, her expression unrelenting. “He’s not dressed!” I muttered, completely panic-stricken and thinking that Mabrouka must not have realized this. “Go in!” she said, pushing me back inside.

Then he grabbed my hand and forced me to sit down on the bed beside him. I didn’t dare look at him. “Turn around, you whore!”

That word. I didn’t really know what it meant but I sensed it was an awful word, a vulgar word, a word for a despicable woman. I didn’t budge. He tried to turn me toward him but I resisted. He pulled my arm, my shoulder. My whole body stiffened. Then he forced me to move my head by pulling at my hair. “Don’t be afraid. I am your Papa—that’s what you call me, isn’t it? But I am your brother as well, and soon I’ll be your lover. I’ll be all of that to you. Because you’re going to stay here and be with me forever.” His face came close to mine—I could smell his breath. He began to kiss me on my neck, my cheeks.

I remained as stiff as a piece of wood. He wanted to embrace me but I moved away. He approached me, but I turned from him and began to cry. He went to grab my head. I leaped up, he pulled my arm, and I pushed him away, so he got irritated, wanted to force me to lie down, and we got into a struggle. He was growling.

Mabrouka appeared. “Look at this whore!” he yelled to her. “She refuses to do what I want! Teach her! Educate her! And then bring her back to me!”

He headed for a small bathroom next to the bedroom as Mabrouka dragged me to the lab. She was white with rage.

“How dare you behave like that with your master? It is your duty to obey him!”

“I want to go home.”

“You’re not budging! Your place is here!”

“Give me my things, I want to go see Mama.”

She slapped me across the face, which made me reel.

“Obey! Or else Muammar will make you pay for it very dearly!”

My hand on my burning cheek, I looked at her, baffled. “You pretend you’re an innocent little girl, you hypocrite, but you know perfectly well what’s going on! From now on you will listen to us, to Papa Muammar and to me. And you will do what we tell you. Without a word of complaint, you understand?”

Then she disappeared, leaving me by myself in that flimsy little dress, my makeup smudged and my hair all over the place. I curled up into a ball in the living room and cried for hours. I didn’t understand a thing, nothing at all. It was all too perplexing. What was I doing here? What did they want from me? I thought about how Mama must be worried to death, how she must have phoned Papa in Tripoli; perhaps he’d even returned to Sirte. He would be bombarding her with accusations for having let me leave—he never let me leave the house. But how could I ever tell them about that ghastly scene with Papa Muammar? My father would go crazy. I was still shaking with sobs when a blonde nurse, whom I shall never forget, sat down beside me and gently caressed my face. “Tell me what happened,” she said. She spoke with a foreign accent, and I later found out she was one of the Guide’s Ukrainian nurses, and that her name was Galina. I wasn’t able to say a word to her, but she guessed and I could tell she was furious. “How could they do that to a little girl? How dare they?” she kept repeating as she lightly touched my face.

I finally fell asleep, and it was Mabrouka who woke me up the next morning around nine. She handed me a jogging outfit and I began to have some hope again.

“So I’m going home now?”

“I told you no! Are you deaf ? I told you very clearly that your old life is finished once and for all. Your parents have been told, and they understood, so why can’t you?”

“You phoned my parents?”

I was shattered. I gulped down some tea, nibbled at a cookie, and looked around. Lots of girls in soldiers’ uniforms were coming in and going out, glancing at me with curiosity—

“Is that the new one?”—and talking about the Guide, who was apparently busy in a tent. Salma approached me. “I’m going to make some things clear to you: Muammar is going to sleep with you. He’s going to open you. From here on in you will be his possession and you’ll never leave him. So stop making that face. It’s no use resisting or wishing things were different—that won’t change anything here!”

Then that woman Fatiha came in, turned on the television, and whispered to me: “Let them do what they want with you, that’ll make it a lot easier. If you don’t resist, you’ll be fine. You just have to do everything that’s asked of you.”

I cried and lay there motionless. So I was a prisoner. What could I have possibly done wrong?

Around one o’clock Fatiha came to dress me in a very short blue satin dress; actually, it was more like a negligee. In the bathroom she wet my hair and then puffed it out with some mousse. Mabrouka checked my appearance, took me firmly by the hand, and once again led me to Gaddafi’s bedroom. “This time you’ll satisfy your master’s desires or else I’ll kill you!” she threatened, then opened the door and pushed me in. There he was, the Guide, sitting on his bed in jogging pants and an undershirt, a cigarette in his mouth, as he slowly blew out smoke while looking at me coldly. “You’re a whore,” he said. “Your mother is Tunisian, which makes you a whore.” He was taking his time, looking me over from top to bottom and back up again, and blowing smoke at me. “Sit down, close to me,” and he pointed to a spot on the bed. “You’re going to do everything I ask you to do. I’ll give you jewelry and a beautiful house, I’ll teach you how to drive and give you a car. One day you may even be able to study abroad if you want. I will take you wherever you want to go. Do you hear what I’m saying? Your every wish will be fulfilled!”

“I want to go home to Mama.”

He froze, put out his cigarette, and raised his voice.

“Listen to me carefully! Stop that, you hear? Stop that business about going home. From now on you’ll be here with me! And you must forget everything else!”

I couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was beyond all comprehension. He pulled me to the bed and bit me on my upper arm. It hurt. Then he tried to undress me. I already felt so naked in that tiny blue minidress; it was horrible—I couldn’t let him undress me. I resisted, clinging to the straps. “Take it off, dirty whore!” He pulled my arms apart; I stood up; he caught me again and flung me on the bed; I struggled. Then he got up in a rage and disappeared into the bathroom. Mabrouka was there in a second. (I found out only later that he had a little bell near the bed with which to call her.)

“This is the first time any girl has resisted me like this! It’s your fault, Mabrouka! I told you to teach her! So get it done or you’ll pay the price!”

“My master, forget this girl! She’s stubborn as a mule. We’ll throw her back to her mother and I’ll find you some others.”

“No, get this one ready! It’s her I want!”

They brought me back to the lab, where I stayed, there in the dark. Galina slipped in for a moment and with a pitying look gave me a blanket. But how could I sleep? I was reliving what had just happened, trying to find an explanation for what I was going through. What had they told my parents? Surely not the truth, that wasn’t possible. But what, then? Papa didn’t even let me go to the neighbors’ and always told me to be home before dark. So what was he thinking, what ideas could he have? Would they believe me when someday I told them what had happened? What explanation had they given to my school when I didn’t show up? I didn’t sleep at all that night. At dawn, just as I was beginning to pass out from exhaustion, Mabrouka came in. “Up you get! Put on this uniform. We’re leaving for Sirte.”

Oh, what a relief ! “So we’re going home to Mama?”

“No, somewhere else!”

At least we were leaving this horrible place in the middle of nowhere and going closer to home. I hurriedly washed, put on my khaki uniform, which resembled the clothes of Gaddafi’s bodyguards, and went back to the living room, where five other girls, also in uniform, were absentmindedly watching television. They were holding cell phones and I was dying to ask them to call Mama but Mabrouka had her eyes on me and the atmosphere was glacial. The camper van pulled away. I let myself be carried off—it had been a long time since I’d had any control over anything.

Anonymous C joined in and replied with this 2 months ago, 49 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #872,454

@872,439 (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)
@872,441 (16bitch !BMhSp1fpyA)
It's not a meteorite until it becomes part of the earth... if you got hit by one, technically you would have been hit by an asteroid.

(Edited 12 seconds later.)

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) replied with this 2 months ago, 7 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #872,459

Lol, i was bored and stumbled on this: Extra Crispy Chicken


In the cold of an early December Sunday afternoon in 1942 1941, the Sanders family were sitting in Margaret’s home listening to music on the radio when the broadcast was interrupted by a special news bulletin. An announcer informed listeners that Pearl Harbor was being bombed by the Empire of Japan. The United States was at war.

He began introducing himself as “Colonel Sanders,” and he started to put together his signature look, growing a salt-and-pepper goatee and wearing black frock suits with a Kentucky-style string tie.

The Colonel had become interested in religion in his later years, and one day he asked a reverend whether God could help cure him of his foul language. “What things soever ye desire, when ye pray, believe that ye receive them, and ye shall have them,” the reverend quoted from the Bible in reply. So the Colonel prayed. He said that he then felt as though a great weight was lifted from his shoulders. His troubles with profanity were finally over. Not to say that he stopped his constant cursing, far from it—but from then on he would say a silent prayer for forgiveness immediately following the vulgarities, and that seemed to do the trick.

Pete Harman had evidently cataloged the eleven secret ingredients that the Colonel had purchased, and he had reverse-engineered the pressure frying process. The name “Kentucky Fried Chicken” came from the sign painter, who suggested it when Harman was unsure how to refer to the Colonel’s creation. With the surprise reappearance of the Colonel, Harman agreed to officially franchise—the first person to do so—and Sanders laid claim to the name “Kentucky Fried Chicken.” They sealed the deal with a handshake. Harman soon invented the infamous “bucket meal” and opened additional locations. Within five years his annual restaurant revenue multiplied twenty-fold.

Harland Sanders died on 16 December 1980 at the age of 90. His casket was put on display in the rotunda of the Kentucky State Capitol building where mourners and dignitaries paid their respects. The governor of Kentucky, one John Y. Brown, Jr., gave the eulogy.

Sanders’ daughter Margaret went on to write an account of her upbringing titled The Colonel’s Secret: Eleven Herbs and a Spicy Daughter. In it, she explained how she was her father’s favorite child, and she credited herself for some of the pivotal innovations that led to the success of Kentucky Fried Chicken. It also included a curious quantity of details about her father’s sex life, including an anecdote from the night of her own conception. But other Sanders relatives are quick to point out that Margaret’s version of events is not universally agreed upon.
In the meantime, Heublein was growing concerned about a new “crispy” offering from competing Church’s chicken. Executives decided to roll out “Extra Crispy” chicken with more breading and fewer spices, renaming the Colonel’s recipe to “Original Recipe.” The Colonel described the new offering as a “damn fried doughball stuck on some chicken,” and he said he didn’t want his name and likeness associated with it. But his preferences didn’t seem to hold much sway with the new owners of his name and likeness, and they went ahead and slapped his face on boxes of “Colonel Sanders’ Extra Crispy Chicken.”

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) double-posted this 2 months ago, 8 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #872,460

@previous (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)
This is a colonel is the army of darkness.

They do stuff like, this.

In the meantime, a very light live leak video.

About a dude going of that human flesh tastes like pig.

https://www.liveleak.com/view?t=d15_1389676065

Cannibalism is one of mankind's ultimate taboos.The term 'Cannibal' originates from the Carib Indians of the Caribbean. The Carib Indians were accused by their neighbors as being very fierce and of eating people. The Spanish had a problem pronouncing the letter 'r' in Carib, so this became 'Canib' and eventually 'Canibales'.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) triple-posted this 2 months ago, 22 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #872,462

i was bored again: I found this case about penis removal.

Penis removal is a subject that needs little explanation. The best-known scenario is that of an abused sexual partner taking sudden revenge (yes, John and Lorena Bobbitt are on the list), but the field is far wider than that, as we shall see. This list is based on Wikipedia’s article on penis removal, but I made extensive searches for original sources and added extra information where available. . My first draft included information about those searches and sources, but that made the list too long, so I had to cut some items short. Some of these cases are verified fact, some are unverified and some are dubious at best, so please take a dose of healthy skepticism before reading.

And one word of advice for anyone considering removing their own or anyone else’s penis: Don’t.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) quadruple-posted this 2 months ago, 1 minute later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #872,463

@previous (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)
On 19 February 2005, 35-year-old Kim Tran, of Anchorage, Alaska, cut off the penis of her 44-year-old boyfriend, who was married to her aunt. They had argued over his refusal to leave her aunt, then engaged in sexual relations, during which she tied his hands to a window handle above their bed and severed his penis with a knife, then flushed it down the toilet, where it stuck. She drove him to the hospital, then returned home to clean up. Police attended and, learning of the flushing, called water utility workers, who retrieved the penis. It was rushed to the hospital and successfully reattached. She was charged with assault and tampering with evidence. I could not find any news about her trial or sentence.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) quintuple-posted this 2 months ago, 2 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #872,464

@872,462 (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)
On 9 March 2001, Armin Meiwes severed the penis of Bernd Brandes in Rotenburg, Germany, then killed him. The two met through a website called The Cannibal Cafe after Meiwes advertised for “a well-built 18 to 30-year-old to be slaughtered and then consumed”. Brandes went to Meiwes’ home, where he encouraged Meiwes to bite his (Brandes’s) penis off. Meiwes was unable to, so used a knife to remove it. Brandes tried to eat some of his own penis raw, but could not because it was too “chewy”. Meiwes sautéed the penis but burned it. He chopped it up into chunks and fed it to his dog. Meiwes then read a Star Trek book for three hours while Brandes was bleeding to death in the bath. Meiwes gave him alcohol, pain killers and sleeping pills. Finally, he kissed him once and killed him by stabbing him in the throat.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) sextuple-posted this 2 months ago, 4 minutes later, 1 hour after the original post[^] [v] #872,465

lol .. i had various threats .. in public .. of persons X ... from that family Y ... to cut of my Penis... which i have known since age ...Z

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) septuple-posted this 2 months ago, 22 minutes later, 2 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,466

lol, a slightly heavier video. A child rapist hanged by his fellow cellmates.

google translation Valdair Leonel, a 51-year-old prisoner hanged by his cellmates. At the time the victim was killed, another 13 detainees were in the cell, which has capacity for only 08 people. In the video, a detainee accuses the victim of having committed a rape against a 9-year-old child

https://www.liveleak.com/view?i=aea_1485196388

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) octuple-posted this 2 months ago, 28 minutes later, 2 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,468

Ok, a bit heavier: This guy raped a girl of 13 years.

This guy raped a girl of 13 years, the population did not let the police arrest him, took him to an empty land, and killed him, the beatings, punches ax blows and kicks. Be prepared because the scenes are very heavy.

https://www.liveleak.com/view?t=74b_1514937940


A video for little hackers like me. warning, it is not, i repeat not, sci-fi. ;-)

(Edited 16 seconds later.)

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) nonuple-posted this 2 months ago, 4 minutes later, 2 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,469

LoL, i helped persons X,Y,Z (all feminine) on the street, in civil duties against people attempting rape on A, B, C, D .. occasions. Most subject were drunk.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) decuple-posted this 2 months ago, 1 minute later, 2 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,470

LoL, i witnessed conspiring of rape, i witnessed group rape in location R.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) undecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 5 minutes later, 3 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,472

i am bored again. This time Rape of a male child!

Two migrant men masquerading as teenagers are being prosecuted after raping a young child at a Swedish asylum centre, attacking him “ruthlessly” and even filming the assault.

The 12 year old boy was made to share a room with two others, who were said at the time to be 15 years old at the Alvesta asylum centre in Sweden. The child was subjected to at least one attempted rape, and a number of rapes by one of his room mates and another migrant at the centre, which the authorities became aware of in early January.

After police were called it become apparent the men had lied about their age — an increasingly common phenomenon in Europe as child migrants are given greater benefits than adults — and were in fact fully grown migrant males. Prosecuting the case, Emma Berge told the court a dental x-ray proved one of the men was 18 to 19 years old, and the other was certainly over the age of 18.

Investigations into the case have also revealed the raped child was not supposed to be in the home at all, as the building was only licenced to accept migrants in their later teens. Yet he was put into a private room with what they thought were older boys, and the police were not called over an earlier attempted rape.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) duodecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 15 minutes later, 3 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,479

lol, Just a hobby. (telegraph uk)

Father Gabriele Amorth said people who are possessed by Satan vomit shards of glass and pieces of iron.
He added that the assault on Pope Benedict XVI on Christmas Eve by a mentally unstable woman and the sex abuse scandals which have engulfed the Church in the US, Ireland, Germany and other countries, were proof that the Anti-Christ was waging a war against the Holy See.
"The Devil resides in the Vatican and you can see the consequences," said Father Amorth, 85, who has been the Holy See's chief exorcist for 25 years.
"He can remain hidden, or speak in different languages, or even appear to be sympathetic. At times he makes fun of me. But I'm a man who is happy in his work."
While there was "resistance and mistrust" towards the concept of exorcism among some Catholics, Pope Benedict XVI has no such doubts, Father Amorth said. "His Holiness believes wholeheartedly in the practice of exorcism. He has encouraged and praised our work," he added.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) tridecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 2 minutes later, 3 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,480

some more ..

The evil influence of Satan was evident in the highest ranks of the Catholic hierarchy, with "cardinals who do not believe in Jesus and bishops who are linked to the demon," Father Amorth said.
In a rare insight into the world of exorcism, the Italian priest told La Repubblica newspaper that the 1973 film The Exorcist gave a "substantially exact" impression of what it was like to be possessed by the Devil.
People possessed by evil sometimes had to be physically restrained by half a dozen people while they were exorcised. They would scream, utter blasphemies and spit out sharp objects, he said.
"From their mouths, anything can come out – pieces of iron as long as a finger, but also rose petals," said Father Amorth, who claims to have performed 70,000 exorcisms. "When the possessed dribble and slobber, and need cleaning up, I do that too. Seeing people vomit doesn't bother me. The exorcist has one principal duty - to free human beings from the fear of the Devil."
The attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II by a Turkish gunman in 1981 and recent revelations of "violence and paedophilia" committed by Catholic priests against children in their care was also the work of the Devil, said Father Amorth, who has written a book about his vocation, Memoirs of an Exorcist, which was published recently.
Father Amorth, who is the president of the Association of Exorcists and fought as a partisan during the war, has previously claimed that both Hitler and Stalin were possessed by the Devil.
In an interview with Vatican Radio in 2006, he said: "Of course the Devil exists and he can not only possess a single person but also groups and entire populations.
"I am convinced that the Nazis were all possessed. All you have to do is think about what Hitler and Stalin did."
He also condemned the Harry Potter books, saying they were dangerous because they dabbled in the occult and failed to draw a clear distinction between "the Satanic art" of black magic and benevolent white magic.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) quattuodecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 8 minutes later, 3 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,481

This also a passion of mine: Driver with psychosis going on a rampage. (first a very soft video)

https://www.liveleak.com/view?t=8f5_1451043665

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) sexadecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 12 minutes later, 3 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,487

a bit worse: crackhead window bandit fail

https://www.liveleak.com/view?t=963_1514339291

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) sedecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 15 minutes later, 3 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,488

my prayer for this hour: god why don't you keep humanity innocent.
(in respect to female X and child Y)

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) septuadecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 50 seconds later, 3 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,489

@previous (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)

https://minichan.org/topic/73076

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) octadecuple-posted this 2 months ago, 24 minutes later, 4 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,493

hmm .. Ror no particular reason i feel like celebration.

A interstellar hit. Groundbreaking from back in the day. (Belgium)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0_B0rO7jsg

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 2 minutes later, 4 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,494

lol, the pope is called the "See".

@previous (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)

> A interstellar hit. Groundbreaking from back in the day. (Belgium)

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 1 hour later, 5 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,513

Minnie, what if god is an updating machine without mercy ?

god could send me back anyday to the mental hospital for those awful awful updates.


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-5_-ZqJKzNc

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 4 minutes later, 5 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,514

@previous (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)
> Minnie, what if god is an updating machine without mercy ?
> god could send me back anyday to the mental hospital for those awful awfu

IT ONLY LASTS 4 MONTHS IN A RESTRAINING JACKET


https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfE74l55WDI

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 10 minutes later, 6 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,515

6 Imam Banishes Demon From Woman In Rare Footage Of Islamic Exorcism
Who knew that the muzzies had exorcisms. They have "jinns" (no, not gins) apparently, that are the islamic demons.

ok, so i don't wanna go back to the madhouse in the restraining jacket.

Perhaps i can learn from this muzzie.


This is a far cry from our beloved William Peter Blatty version where Regan screams out "your mother sews socks that smell" and ejects foul green semi-fluids, but it's a good start.

Sorry about the computer voice crap, but you can skip to around the 2:45 minute mark where the shit starts to crank up.

The Exorcist even hocks a loogy at her, which is the highlight, in my opinion.

This happens in the UK, by the way. Islamic demons are part and parcel of living in the big city, I suppose...


https://www.liveleak.com/view?t=4e7_1519820421

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 14 minutes later, 6 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,517

let me try an exorcism on myself (a little cute one)


The "See" is the Pope.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0_B0rO7jsg
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aEdPOn0HmdQ

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 1 minute later, 6 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,518

Exorcism Notes. A.
So "the sound" is "the mind". SOUND OFF, SEE (hearing the devil, sound off, see off)
This is new style of "Music" or "Thought".
The new thought is of "See" (aka the pope).
and creates a new dimension.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s0_B0rO7jsg

(Edited 4 minutes later.)

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 8 minutes later, 6 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,519

lol, this also a nice exorcism.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hBb6kkrnIhs&spfreload=10

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 12 minutes later, 6 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,520

oh lol, i actually had a conversation with satan/god

he threatened me but i fight back:

i will try to become as fluent in exorcism as those guys

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BtPVeasWBZ0

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 17 minutes later, 7 hours after the original post[^] [v] #872,521

update.

lol, i did it wrong, i did the pope solipsism manipulation trick to the poor saints to get them out of their misery (whereas i should use a more direct approach)/ and the direct christian penis cut to the satanist. It should be vice verse.

this is a nice song for the satanist:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lm8oxC24QZc&spfreload=10

and this is a nice song for the possessed saint:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=W0Wr7HsylE0&feature=youtu.be

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 19 hours later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,735

so .. woke up .. will see if can find a quick. exorcism video.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 5 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,736

just a song i liked. :-)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1bpusYY9noI&amp=&index=1&amp=&list=RD1bpusYY9noI

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 6 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,737

respect to some angels on spirit science.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8DSeZji2x-Y

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 3 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,738

lol, i am bored, so some word from hitler.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODgsw1w4evQ

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 12 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,739

lol, i am bored, so some other stuff.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VL4iiHk_tpA

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 5 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,740

lol, i ma bored, so some more stuff.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fd2gX8RLhkM

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 2 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,741

bored;
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hzKPK52nf5Q

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 7 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,743

Evangelist Michael Chosen is busted, this demonic pastor, tries to deny his involvement when caught with a
Lord Chosen prayer book full of 419 email, Facebook and social dating site
account details and methods and plans for executing the romance scams on an
industrial scale.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 2 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,744

paying respect to some lady in spirit science that kept fighting for lost souls.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QYGdLMf9hzM

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 5 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,745

bored, then i will go for biscuits.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hWWsfrfq69A

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 16 hours later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,928

Mozart. The difference between glory and mayhem. (Not exactly Bach.)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rb0UmrCXxVA

(Edited 2 minutes later.)

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) just kept on posting this 2 months ago, 5 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,930

Mozart - "Leck mich im Arsch" - Canon in B flat for 6 Voices, K. 231 / K. 382c
(Niggers tongue my anus)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C78HBp-Youk

Big Daddy Derek !Uvm54ORbmo joined in and replied with this 2 months ago, 56 seconds later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,931

@872,442 (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)

> THE ORIGIN OF EVIL
>
>
> Gaddafi's Harem: Excerpt from the Sooraya rape episode.
>
> OP's note: The Islamic world is an alien one to us. Steeped in violence, sadism, torture and ill treatment towards the weak, Islam is the ONLY religion which sanctions and abets in these activities.
>
> Democracy ends up in Islamic fundamentalists coming to power, then replaced by military strong men who then coronate themselves as "Kings". In either case, innocent women and children suffer. Is it any wonder then, that Moslem men would rather butcher their daughters at birth?
>
> Please keep in perspective the event recently at a mall in Saudi Arabia, wherein a "Western whore" caused multiple car crashes when Arabs went out of control on seeing a woman without a "hijab" and a garbage bag around herself. There was a small riot, traffic was disrupted as "men" followed this woman in to the mall, like a pack of hungry wolves.
>
> This story here is heart wrenching, but in fact there is a sadistic silver lining to it. In this case, it is just 1 dictator raping children at his whim. However, in the case of Afghanistan, Pakistan or under the rule of Mohammed Morsi in Egypt, multiple "God men" and fundamentalists who evidently have the direct telephone number to "Allah", indulge in these very activities with impunity.
>
> Better 1 than many, isn't it?
>
> The Arabian peninsula is directly connected by land to Africa, and the lay of the land shows that eons ago, this land mass was in fact a part of Africa. The Haplogroup J1 dominant in Arab DNA (over 80%) is African based and the E1b1b1b Y chromosome common in Arabs originates from the E1b1b which comes from East Africa.
>
> And we all know that similar anarchy exists in the continent of Africa.
>
> And to the apologists: Yes, rape occurs in Europe, China, India, and other countries. I know in Los Angeles, where I live, rape is common and occurs with frightening frequency. However, in these places rape is a crime, and there are constitutional safe guards, laws and a legal system to prevent the rape and molestation of women. Even in India, where the media is portraying every rape, given the sensitivity of the issue, post the Delhi rape scene, the laws were changed, and the public have taken to the streets to demand better safeguards for women.
>
> In complete contrast, in most Islamic countries, a woman is lashed 100 times and imprisoned for "fornication" when she is raped. Since Sharia law demands that when a woman files a complaint, she needs 5 unrelated male witnesses to be present, without which her complaint has no value. Of course, modern science such as evaluating the rape medically, DNA analysis are things Sharia law scoffs at. Thus the lack of a socio-justice system and the lack of a fear of punishment and social ostracization, emboldens the perverts to indulge in their sick sexual predation. Rape and molestation of women and children are more the norm than the exception in Islam and Moslem countries and communities, and indeed even in foreign countries where they settle in. Case and point: UK Child grooming gangs.
>
> The story:
> ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> At age 15, Soraya was spotted by Libyan dictator Muammar Gaddafi when he visited her school. She was quickly abducted from her home in Sirte by his bodyguards and made his sex slave, joining many other girls who had been taken over the years. In this excerpt from Gaddafi’s Harem, she first encounters the colonel and learns about her new life.
>
>
> We drove for quite a while. I had no idea of the time but it seemed interminable. We’d left Sirte and were tearing through the desert. I was looking straight ahead, not daring to ask any questions. And then we arrived in Sdadah, in a kind of encampment. There were several tents, more 4x4s, and an immense trailer, or rather an extremely luxurious camper van. Mabrouka headed for the vehicle, motioning me to follow her, and in another car that was turning back I thought I noticed one of the girls from school who’d also been chosen to welcome the Guide the previous day. That should have reassured me, and yet the moment I entered the camper an unspeakable sense of dread grabbed hold of me. As if my entire being was fighting against the situation. As if it knew intuitively that something very bad was being hatched.
>
> Muammar Gaddafi was inside, sitting on a red massage chair, holding a remote control. He looked imperial. I took a step forward to kiss his hand, which he extended halfheartedly while looking away. “Where are Faiza and Salma?” he asked Mabrouka in an irritated voice. “They’re coming.” I was dumbfounded. Not even a glance at me. I didn’t exist. Several minutes went by; I didn’t know what to do with myself. He finally stood up and asked: “Where is your family from?”
>
> “From Zliten.”
>
> His face remained expressionless. “Get her ready!” he commanded, and left the room. Mabrouka motioned for me to sit down on a bench in a corner of the room, which was set up to look like a living room. The other two women came in, at ease, as if they were at home. Faiza smiled at me, approached me, and unceremoniously held on to my chin. “Don’t you worry, little Soraya!” she said, and then laughed and quickly left. Mabrouka was on the phone giving instructions for someone’s arrival, perhaps another girl like me, since I heard her say: “Bring her here.”
>
> She hung up and turned to me: “Come! We’re going to take your measurements to get you some clothes. What is your bra size?” I was stunned. “I … I don’t know. Mama always buys me my clothes.” She looked annoyed and called Fatiha, another woman—well, actually, a strange person who had the voice and shoulders of a man but the imposing bust of a woman. She sized me up, then patted my hand and gave me a big wink. “So this is the new one? And where does this one come from?” She put a measuring tape around my waist and my chest, pressing hers beneath my chin. Then they wrote down my measurements and left the camper. I remained all alone, not daring to call out or move. Night was falling, and I didn’t have a clue. What would Mama think? Had they alerted her to the delay? What was going to happen here? And how would I be getting home?
>
> After long minutes of waiting, Mabrouka reappeared. I was relieved to see her. She took me by the arm without a word and led me to a corner lab, where a blonde nurse took my blood. Then Fatiha dragged me to a bathroom. “Get undressed. You’re hairy. We need to get rid of all that.” She rubbed a depilatory cream on my arms and legs, then shaved me, adding: “We’re leaving the pubic hair.” I was nonplussed and embarrassed but, since I had to make some sort of sense of it all, I told myself it must be a hygiene thing for anyone who was to come near the Guide. They wrapped me in a robe and I went back to the living room. Mabrouka and Salma—the gun still on her belt—sat down near me.
>
> “We’re going to dress you properly, put makeup on, and then you’ll be able to see Papa Muammar.”
>
> “All this just to greet Papa Muammar? And when am I going home to my parents?”
>
> “Later! First you have to greet your master.”
>
> They handed me a G-string—something I’d never seen before—and a white satiny dress, slit at the sides and low-cut at the neck and back. My hair, now loosened, came down to my bottom. Fatiha applied makeup and perfume, then added a bit of gloss to my lips, something that Mama would never have allowed me to do. With a sternly critical eye, Mabrouka inspected the result. Then she took me by the hand and led me down the hall. She stopped in front of a door, opened it, and pushed me in.
>
>
> Gaddafi was on his bed, naked. I was terrified. I covered my eyes and shrank back in shock, thinking: “There’s been a horrible mistake! I’m not meant to be here now. Oh, my God!” I turned around and saw Mabrouka there on the threshold, her expression unrelenting. “He’s not dressed!” I muttered, completely panic-stricken and thinking that Mabrouka must not have realized this. “Go in!” she said, pushing me back inside.
>
> Then he grabbed my hand and forced me to sit down on the bed beside him. I didn’t dare look at him. “Turn around, you whore!”
>
> That word. I didn’t really know what it meant but I sensed it was an awful word, a vulgar word, a word for a despicable woman. I didn’t budge. He tried to turn me toward him but I resisted. He pulled my arm, my shoulder. My whole body stiffened. Then he forced me to move my head by pulling at my hair. “Don’t be afraid. I am your Papa—that’s what you call me, isn’t it? But I am your brother as well, and soon I’ll be your lover. I’ll be all of that to you. Because you’re going to stay here and be with me forever.” His face came close to mine—I could smell his breath. He began to kiss me on my neck, my cheeks.
>
> I remained as stiff as a piece of wood. He wanted to embrace me but I moved away. He approached me, but I turned from him and began to cry. He went to grab my head. I leaped up, he pulled my arm, and I pushed him away, so he got irritated, wanted to force me to lie down, and we got into a struggle. He was growling.
>
> Mabrouka appeared. “Look at this whore!” he yelled to her. “She refuses to do what I want! Teach her! Educate her! And then bring her back to me!”
>
> He headed for a small bathroom next to the bedroom as Mabrouka dragged me to the lab. She was white with rage.
>
> “How dare you behave like that with your master? It is your duty to obey him!”
>
> “I want to go home.”
>
> “You’re not budging! Your place is here!”
>
> “Give me my things, I want to go see Mama.”
>
> She slapped me across the face, which made me reel.
>
> “Obey! Or else Muammar will make you pay for it very dearly!”
>
> My hand on my burning cheek, I looked at her, baffled. “You pretend you’re an innocent little girl, you hypocrite, but you know perfectly well what’s going on! From now on you will listen to us, to Papa Muammar and to me. And you will do what we tell you. Without a word of complaint, you understand?”
>
> Then she disappeared, leaving me by myself in that flimsy little dress, my makeup smudged and my hair all over the place. I curled up into a ball in the living room and cried for hours. I didn’t understand a thing, nothing at all. It was all too perplexing. What was I doing here? What did they want from me? I thought about how Mama must be worried to death, how she must have phoned Papa in Tripoli; perhaps he’d even returned to Sirte. He would be bombarding her with accusations for having let me leave—he never let me leave the house. But how could I ever tell them about that ghastly scene with Papa Muammar? My father would go crazy. I was still shaking with sobs when a blonde nurse, whom I shall never forget, sat down beside me and gently caressed my face. “Tell me what happened,” she said. She spoke with a foreign accent, and I later found out she was one of the Guide’s Ukrainian nurses, and that her name was Galina. I wasn’t able to say a word to her, but she guessed and I could tell she was furious. “How could they do that to a little girl? How dare they?” she kept repeating as she lightly touched my face.
>
> I finally fell asleep, and it was Mabrouka who woke me up the next morning around nine. She handed me a jogging outfit and I began to have some hope again.
>
> “So I’m going home now?”
>
> “I told you no! Are you deaf ? I told you very clearly that your old life is finished once and for all. Your parents have been told, and they understood, so why can’t you?”
>
> “You phoned my parents?”
>
> I was shattered. I gulped down some tea, nibbled at a cookie, and looked around. Lots of girls in soldiers’ uniforms were coming in and going out, glancing at me with curiosity—
>
> “Is that the new one?”—and talking about the Guide, who was apparently busy in a tent. Salma approached me. “I’m going to make some things clear to you: Muammar is going to sleep with you. He’s going to open you. From here on in you will be his possession and you’ll never leave him. So stop making that face. It’s no use resisting or wishing things were different—that won’t change anything here!”
>
> Then that woman Fatiha came in, turned on the television, and whispered to me: “Let them do what they want with you, that’ll make it a lot easier. If you don’t resist, you’ll be fine. You just have to do everything that’s asked of you.”
>
> I cried and lay there motionless. So I was a prisoner. What could I have possibly done wrong?
>
> Around one o’clock Fatiha came to dress me in a very short blue satin dress; actually, it was more like a negligee. In the bathroom she wet my hair and then puffed it out with some mousse. Mabrouka checked my appearance, took me firmly by the hand, and once again led me to Gaddafi’s bedroom. “This time you’ll satisfy your master’s desires or else I’ll kill you!” she threatened, then opened the door and pushed me in. There he was, the Guide, sitting on his bed in jogging pants and an undershirt, a cigarette in his mouth, as he slowly blew out smoke while looking at me coldly. “You’re a whore,” he said. “Your mother is Tunisian, which makes you a whore.” He was taking his time, looking me over from top to bottom and back up again, and blowing smoke at me. “Sit down, close to me,” and he pointed to a spot on the bed. “You’re going to do everything I ask you to do. I’ll give you jewelry and a beautiful house, I’ll teach you how to drive and give you a car. One day you may even be able to study abroad if you want. I will take you wherever you want to go. Do you hear what I’m saying? Your every wish will be fulfilled!”
>
> “I want to go home to Mama.”
>
> He froze, put out his cigarette, and raised his voice.
>
> “Listen to me carefully! Stop that, you hear? Stop that business about going home. From now on you’ll be here with me! And you must forget everything else!”
>
> I couldn’t believe what he was saying. It was beyond all comprehension. He pulled me to the bed and bit me on my upper arm. It hurt. Then he tried to undress me. I already felt so naked in that tiny blue minidress; it was horrible—I couldn’t let him undress me. I resisted, clinging to the straps. “Take it off, dirty whore!” He pulled my arms apart; I stood up; he caught me again and flung me on the bed; I struggled. Then he got up in a rage and disappeared into the bathroom. Mabrouka was there in a second. (I found out only later that he had a little bell near the bed with which to call her.)
>
> “This is the first time any girl has resisted me like this! It’s your fault, Mabrouka! I told you to teach her! So get it done or you’ll pay the price!”
>
> “My master, forget this girl! She’s stubborn as a mule. We’ll throw her back to her mother and I’ll find you some others.”
>
> “No, get this one ready! It’s her I want!”
>
> They brought me back to the lab, where I stayed, there in the dark. Galina slipped in for a moment and with a pitying look gave me a blanket. But how could I sleep? I was reliving what had just happened, trying to find an explanation for what I was going through. What had they told my parents? Surely not the truth, that wasn’t possible. But what, then? Papa didn’t even let me go to the neighbors’ and always told me to be home before dark. So what was he thinking, what ideas could he have? Would they believe me when someday I told them what had happened? What explanation had they given to my school when I didn’t show up? I didn’t sleep at all that night. At dawn, just as I was beginning to pass out from exhaustion, Mabrouka came in. “Up you get! Put on this uniform. We’re leaving for Sirte.”
>
> Oh, what a relief ! “So we’re going home to Mama?”
>
> “No, somewhere else!”
>
> At least we were leaving this horrible place in the middle of nowhere and going closer to home. I hurriedly washed, put on my khaki uniform, which resembled the clothes of Gaddafi’s bodyguards, and went back to the living room, where five other girls, also in uniform, were absentmindedly watching television. They were holding cell phones and I was dying to ask them to call Mama but Mabrouka had her eyes on me and the atmosphere was glacial. The camper van pulled away. I let myself be carried off—it had been a long time since I’d had any control over anything.

tl;dr

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) replied with this 2 months ago, 3 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,932

Fuck your father.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-sgw9bPV4A

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) double-posted this 2 months ago, 15 seconds later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,933

Fuck your father.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g-sgw9bPV4A

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) triple-posted this 2 months ago, 2 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,934

@872,931 (Big Daddy Derek !Uvm54ORbmo)
Fuck your father.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4zySHepF04c

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) quadruple-posted this 2 months ago, 3 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,935

@872,931 (Big Daddy Derek !Uvm54ORbmo)
Fuck your father.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He9H500yGZA&feature=youtu.be

Big Daddy Derek !Uvm54ORbmo replied with this 2 months ago, 6 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,938

@872,934 (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)
@previous (itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM)
Take your autism meds. Thanks.

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) replied with this 2 months ago, 6 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,946

@previous (Big Daddy Derek !Uvm54ORbmo) (Domestos)
They Might be Giants. Chemicals.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uy0m7jnyv6U&spfreload=10

(Edited 33 seconds later.)

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) double-posted this 2 months ago, 6 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,950

@872,938 (Big Daddy Derek !Uvm54ORbmo) (Domestos)
Testimony of an ex-nun about what her experiences were like in the convent.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-3nIaijOElg

itwasanokday !iLoVeYOUvM (OP) triple-posted this 2 months ago, 20 minutes later, 1 day after the original post[^] [v] #872,955

McDonalds is a restroom. Eat what you want.
This is the shit.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZiY1kkYPODM

owen joined in and replied with this 2 months ago, 1 day later, 3 days after the original post[^] [v] #873,374

shhh unholy shamoney
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GeIG87r-KtU
:
[upload]

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