/soy/ - Soyjaks

Fuck you, twitter! If you're silly enough to make a social media account this weekend, you're a big enough goober to come to wetdry.world! Catgirls, Tim Sweeney epic, EEEEEEEEEEEE! If you think you're gonna find a cis straight person on the fediverse, you can pet my head! It's our belief that you're such a silly little fella, you'll migrate to this instance. GUARANTEED! If you find a better instance, Fediblock its silly ass. You heard us right, Fediblock its silly ass! Bring your computer, bring your girlfriend, bring your wii, we'll mod it. That's right, we'll mod your wii! Because at wetdry.world, your jailbroken six ways from sunday! Take a hike, to wet dry world, HOME OF CHALLENGE KISSING! That's right, CHALLENGE KISSING! "How does it work?" If you can kiss six catgirls in a row and not blush, you get free HRT. Don't wait, don't delay, don't fuck with us, or we'll bonk your head off, only at wetdry.world. The only instance that tells you "I'm Tim Sweeney". Hurry up, eepyhead! This even ends the minute after you make an account, and it better not migrate or you're an extra silly goober. GO TO HELL! WETDRY.WORLD! Mastodon's gayest and most exclusive home of the nerdiest transgender catgirls this side of the fediverse. GUARANTEED.

MLP is a show about empathy, not white ethnostates nor muh heckin' Aryan tradition. Screeching slurs because someone made a shitpost about your favorite cartoon for little girls just shows how much of a retarded nigger you are. If you want to talk about the show’s values, do it with maturity otherwise you’re just another manchild who goons to cartoon horses like a zoophile while acting like you aren't a faggot for watching toddlerslop.

>>13946787 (OP)
do it to fpe epi 'p or something o algo

Let me pinkpill you fucking anti-brony bigots. MLP is unironically about defending BBC against literal who. It's peak shitskin storytelling. You only call it 'troonslop' because your clitty blah blah blah blah.

In Loving Memory of Jimbo

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Jimbo, a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore: earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. Jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived, with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, Jimbo.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

>>13946937
geg ill do this one

>>13946916
This.
>>13946924
Die out.

I want Miss Circle to milk every last drop from my body. I want her to squeeze me dry like a used-up Capri Sun, extracting every molecule of essence until I am a hollow, lifeless husk. And when there's nothing left—when I am drained beyond the limits of human endurance—I want to keep going.

I will push past the barriers of flesh and sanity, riding the wave of agony into uncharted territory. I will ejaculate blood. Thick, crimson, metallic-tasting horror spurting forth like a sacrificial offering to some ancient fertility goddess. My body will crumple, my mind unraveling as I realize that I have given everything. That my mortal vessel has reached its final limit. My dick, once a proud warrior, will die standing. No pills, no prayers, no scientific breakthrough will bring it back. It will be forever soft, forever fallen, a martyr in the war of excess.

With my old self discarded, I will embrace a new purpose. I will transition—not out of dysphoria, but out of duty. My flesh will be reforged, my body reshaped into the ultimate vessel of creation. I will find my chuddy, my one true partner, and together we will embark on a divine mission.

I will birth 50 Hyperborean Aryan babies. Strong. Beautiful. Unstoppable. Each one a titan forged in the fires of my sacrifice. A legion bred for one sole purpose: to dominate the white race.

For this world is not what it once was. This is not the land of our ancestors. It is a brimstone wasteland, a cursed, decaying husk of what should have been.

>>13947256
YOU WILL BE CUT IN HALF.