Care About You
Care About You

Care About You

About
About

About

Only
Only

Only

Https
Https

Https

Thats Not
Thats Not

Thats Not

Have
Have

Have

Are
Are

Are

With
With

With

Thats
Thats

Thats

About You
About You

About You

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Being Alone, Crying, and Dude: thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
Being Alone, Crying, and Dude: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie:...

Ash, Bad, and Chill: Sat, Jun 22, 18:36 Hello traveller, I am your guide. Are you ready to begin your quest? Hello stranger, what do I need to do, to complete your request. You have to recover a long time lost manuscript held by a famous necromancer. Your journey begins in a forest. The left of you is a mountain with a large boulder blocking it's entrance, in front of you is an ancient graveyard. Some of the greatest heroes of the realm rest there I would like to investigate the grave- yard of it looks chill or haunted. Not strong enough to push that boulder As you enter the graveyard you notice old tombstones crumbling, scribed in language too ancient to be known by any living creature. While searching around you find a crypt, the front door has been knocked open, you can hear a soft gust of wind coming from inside. I copy the ancient text, best as possible. I use 'produce flame' when I enter the crypt. As you go in the light from your spell fills the room, you notice the coffins that adorn the walls and a spiral staircase that leads further down, at the bottom of it lies a large room, broken pillars, and a statue of Sild, the Warlock. A very powerful wizard from centuries past. Further away, with barely any light around it, you see a creature in a black robe facing away, as it ignores you on purpouse. There's a corpse on an alter in front of it, and it's hands deep inside it As I enter the room I go "excuuuuuse me, but it's not nice to sacrifice people" en hold my flame ready to attack if he would attack me... The creature in black turns annoyed by your interference, you see a beetle crawl out of it's eye socket, it's deformed face makes your stomach sick, as you think that eating all those fries before entering a graveyard was a bad idea. A purple light starts forming as he moves his hands together With a quick look around you notice a large floating orb 3 meters above the creature's head. You remember the old legend of Sild's orb, which he used teleport anywhere in the world. Nasty! God damn it those fries! I shoot my flame to the orb so the bug guy can't escape. And pull out my scimitar ready to attack As your flame hits, the orb shatters into what seems to be glass spikes, flying everywhere, further damaging the room. Some hit the creature, tearing his black robes just to reveal pieces of rotting flesh. The stench of death takes over the room, you can't hold those fries anymore, as you make an effort to not puke onto your brand new heels -and you hear your own voice in your head WHY WOULD YOU GO INTO A GRAVEYARD USING HEELS WOMAN ? As you get distracted, the creature fires his spell, you quickly block it with your scimitar, but it flies away from your hand. You are disarmed and the creature starts running in your direction "I DON'T I WANTED SOMETHING DIFFERENT THEN THE USUAL SNEAKERS as I replied to my own question. I take them of hold them as a weapon ready to defend myself against the ugly bug dude. And try to figure out if I can back to my scimitar. As you dual-wield your brand new puke-free heels you notice a two fast moving shadows moving behind the creature. Desperation starts to hit as you are outnumbered and your scimitar is nowhere to be seen, suddenly the shadows jump onto the creatures head and start attacking him. IT'S YOUR FAMILIARS, your thank yourself for installing that catdoor years ago. The creature loses balance just as it reaches you, slipping and faceplanting your puddle fries and cola that rested on the floor. You plunge it's head with both heels. It explodes and the creature slowly starts turning into ashes... You give a well deserved pet to them. The comforting purring sounds fills the room, you feel safe now. One of your familiars starts digging into the ash pile, as he found something of value there. IT'S A FORTUNE COOKIE! I go like "Oooh cookie!" I break it open and eat the cookie while I read. And also keep petting them, like a good rub under the chin. You slowly chew the cookie, the slight chocolate taste is well welcome at this moment, unravel the note, and it says , hit me up for fries & movies sometime. Sept Her profile said she was into RPGs
Ash, Bad, and Chill: Sat, Jun 22, 18:36
 Hello traveller, I am your guide. Are you
 ready to begin your quest?
 Hello stranger, what do I need to do,
 to complete your request.
 You have to recover a long time
 lost manuscript held by a famous
 necromancer. Your journey begins in a
 forest. The left of you is a mountain with
 a large boulder blocking it's entrance,
 in front of you is an ancient graveyard.
 Some of the greatest heroes of the
 realm rest there
 I would like to investigate the grave-
 yard of it looks chill or haunted. Not
 strong enough to push that boulder
 As you enter the graveyard you notice
 old tombstones crumbling, scribed in
 language too ancient to be known by
 any living creature. While searching
 around you find a crypt, the front door
 has been knocked open, you can hear
 a soft gust of wind coming from inside.
 I copy the ancient text, best as
 possible. I use 'produce flame' when I
 enter the crypt.
 As you go in the light from your spell
 fills the room, you notice the coffins that
 adorn the walls and a spiral staircase
 that leads further down, at the bottom
 of it lies a large room, broken pillars,
 and a statue of Sild, the Warlock. A very
 powerful wizard from centuries past.
 Further away, with barely any light
 around it, you see a creature in a black
 robe facing away, as it ignores you on
 purpouse. There's a corpse on an alter
 in front of it, and it's hands deep inside
 it
 As I enter the room I go "excuuuuuse
 me, but it's not nice to sacrifice
 people" en hold my flame ready to
 attack if he would attack me...
 The creature in black turns annoyed
 by your interference, you see a
 beetle crawl out of it's eye socket, it's
 deformed face makes your stomach
 sick, as you think that eating all those
 fries before entering a graveyard was
 a bad idea. A purple light starts forming
 as he moves his hands together
 With a quick look around you notice a
 large floating orb 3 meters above the
 creature's head. You remember the
 old legend of Sild's orb, which he used
 teleport anywhere in the world.
 Nasty! God damn it those fries! I shoot
 my flame to the orb so the bug guy
 can't escape. And pull out my scimitar
 ready to attack
 As your flame hits, the orb shatters into
 what seems to be glass spikes, flying
 everywhere, further damaging the
 room. Some hit the creature, tearing
 his black robes just to reveal pieces of
 rotting flesh. The stench of death takes
 over the room, you can't hold those
 fries anymore, as you make an effort
 to not puke onto your brand new heels
 -and you hear your own voice in your
 head WHY WOULD YOU GO INTO A
 GRAVEYARD USING HEELS WOMAN ?
 As you get distracted, the creature
 fires his spell, you quickly block it with
 your scimitar, but it flies away from
 your hand. You are disarmed and the
 creature starts running in your direction
 "I DON'T I WANTED SOMETHING
 DIFFERENT THEN THE USUAL
 SNEAKERS as I replied to my own
 question. I take them of hold them
 as a weapon ready to defend myself
 against the ugly bug dude. And try to
 figure out if I can back to my scimitar.
 As you dual-wield your brand new
 puke-free heels you notice a two fast
 moving shadows moving behind the
 creature. Desperation starts to hit as
 you are outnumbered and your scimitar
 is nowhere to be seen, suddenly the
 shadows jump onto the creatures head
 and start attacking him. IT'S YOUR
 FAMILIARS, your thank yourself for
 installing that catdoor years ago.
 The creature loses balance just as it
 reaches you, slipping and faceplanting
 your puddle fries and cola that rested
 on the floor.
 You plunge it's head with both heels. It
 explodes and the creature slowly starts
 turning into ashes... You give a well
 deserved pet to them. The comforting
 purring sounds fills the room, you feel
 safe now. One of your familiars starts
 digging into the ash pile, as he found
 something of value there.
 IT'S A FORTUNE COOKIE!
 I go like "Oooh cookie!" I break it open
 and eat the cookie while I read. And
 also keep petting them, like a good
 rub under the chin.
 You slowly chew the cookie, the slight
 chocolate taste is well welcome at this
 moment, unravel the note, and it says
 , hit me up for fries &
 movies sometime.
 Sept
Her profile said she was into RPGs

Her profile said she was into RPGs