tvashtarkatena

Sounds good. PM me and we'll have lunch.

Guess that was false bravado made from behind the safety of a mouse. That's our KKK!

Hey KKK, when were you planning on shitting down my neck? I just wanted to put it on my appointment calendar.

Anyone wanna pet Fairweather's monkey?

Nobody's interested in changing the topic to misogyny, pardner. You already tried selling that one here and, well, you're probably still cleaning the shit out from behind your ears. You'll just have to log onto Ascensionist for women bashing. I realize that you're still pissed from having your stalking incident exposed, but, hey, after all, it was your own bad behavior there, bud. Better to own it than to blame the victims. You're nothing if not classy.

Like a damn channel changer. Amazing. Perhaps you just don't understand alien worlds very well.

What specific kind of trouble did they have and how big were these people? MSR doesn't have a max weight rating for the Lightning.

Were you fistulated?

Why, I believe I've already have pissed all over you. And if you really want a chance to unscrew something other than ice screws, given that you're not familiar with them, feel free to PM me. I'd be happy to arrange an outing together so that you can show me your stunning physique.

Woops! The time! Gotta hit the gym....

But real art is when I paint a hammer and sickle on the top of your stump like head in fresh urine.

After all, that's how we all get better at our art, isn't it?

I'm really looking forward to seeing your toned physique in action on the ice this weekend. Wear something form fitting for photos. It's great to get training tips from people who really know what they're doing.

Do you prefer dual or monopoints?

Hey, I was just wondering if you had any recommendations for weight training plateau prevention?

I make your day whenever I deign to urinate on your back. The attention rekindles your broken spirit.

You are a human dirt clod. Any time I wish, I briefly entertain myself by crushing you into sand.

I burn your village, sell your dumpy women to Arabs, and roast your dogs, and you are obliged to gift me with unleavened millet cakes, sweetened with wild honey.

You shuffle your wooden, manure caked clogs, eyes downward, drooling on your potato like fingers, awaiting my next command to jump. I blink: your jaw tightens. I lift my finger to brush one of my golden curls from my aristrocratic brow; you cow.

You worship me. You are my little serf. When I call, you come, dragging your hoe shaped stick.

I'd be interested in your insights regarding period training.

Body by Cube Monkey.

I've had better exchanges with empty soup cans.

I guess you're in too good a shape.

Didn't think so.