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/u/Fantastic_Monk_8797 seems to have nuked the original post, there has to be archives though
He also still posts on /r/crack to this day.
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Turn off your computer. Turn off your smartphone.
Take a shower.
Go to a Starbucks every day. Buy a coffee. Sit in the lounge. Spend an hour writing what you feel or observe. Freewrite, if you must.
Turn your computer back on. Go to Meetup.com and look for social gatherings near you that are low effort, and welcoming to newcomers. Go, make friends. Bullshit about your past if anyone asks.
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https://old.reddit.com/r/Drama/comments/86e8f8/comment/dw4cnbk
Lots of WORDSX3 which I'm not going to read because I'm not a fricking NEET giving and receiving life advice on gayddit
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Whoever has this much to write can be safely assumed to be a NEET too
https://old.reddit.com/r/Drama/comments/86e8f8/comment/dw4nd2l
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ONLY GOOD ADVICE
https://old.reddit.com/r/Drama/comments/86e8f8/comment/dw4jal6
STEP 1 IS TO KEEP YOURSELF SAFE
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My bussy rules
Listen up motherlovers, because this is no ordinary bussy. This bussy is the fricking shit. This bussy bleeds black gold and pisses pure liquid heroin. This bussy queefs helium, in baritone.
This bussy does not frick around, this bussy fricks around. You could frick this bussy with a nuclear warhead, 5 minutes later it would snap back tighter than a vice grip. Detonate that same nuclear warhead inside of this bussy, and watch this bussy produce a bussy mushroom cloud.
If you felt this bussy it would feel softer than silk, if you ate this bussy it’d be sweeter than the blackest berry, and if you fricked this bussy it'd be rawer than shit.
You cannot refute this bussy’s greatness, because this bussy defines greatness. This bussy took a picture with Chuck Norris, and everyone who saw it thought he looked like a fricking c*nt.
This bussy relocated the 7th layer of Heck to a Whole Foods, in Portland, Oregon.
Holy frick, does my bussy rule.
This bussy gets fricked in other dimensions. And this bussy learned interdimensional travel by face fricking the answer out of God himself. God did not create this bussy, this bussy created God. God is this bussy’s b-word. This bussy made Buddha a warmonger. This bussy puts images of Muhammad all over the world, and nobody ever says shit, because this bussy made all the threats. This bussy crucified Jesus and took his place three days later. This bussy framed the Jews. This bussy made atheism trendy. This bussy gave Vishnu four arms just so he could finger frick the shit out of it.
This bussy is Chaos. No order comes from chaos, unless this bussy says so.
This bussy has a logical answer to every paradox.
When this bussy gets crossed, parallel lines collide.
This bussy is the reason abortion exists. This bussy is the reason abortions fail. This bussy has had its tubes tied.
After this bussy anally r*ped your pro-life dad, he got pregnant. This bussy took your dad to the top of the Eiffel Tower and pushed him down the stairs. This bussy put your mom on the fricking street corner. This bussy pimp slapped every other pimp in the vicinity to death and ran the game. This bussy taught Iceberg Slim everything he knows, and this bussy ghost wrote Pimp: The Story of My Life.
This bussy only listens to old school gangster rap. This bussy is the only one who truly doesn’t give a frick. This bussy killed Tupac. This bussy fricked his corpse because this bussy is a necrophiliac. This bussy is an Outkast. This bussy spun every track on The Chronic. This bussy was adding the suffix –izzle to words, when Snoop Dogg was pooping in diapers. This bussy gave Eazy-E AIDS. This bussy made Ice Cube sellout. This bussy has no idea what the frick MC Ren is up to. This bussy got Ice-T into metal and formed Body Count. This bussy wrote Cop Killer. This bussy is the only reason the Beastie Boys never sold out. This bussy is the real Public Enemy. This bussy fought the Wu-Tang Clan. This bussy sewed Method Man’s butthole closed and just kept feeding him, and feeding him, and feeding him…
If you're from Mars, and you have a bussy, you're bussy still ain't shit
This bussy convinced Hillary Clinton to set up the private e-mail server. Just to stir the pot, this bussy convinced Donald Trump to run for president. This bussy gave Bernie Sanders his first erection ever since this bussy faked the moon landing. This bussy made him feel the burn of blue balls. This bussy is the Zodiac Killer.
This bussy is like a mad dog, running through the flames of this Earth.
This bussy could go on for eternity, but this bussy has shit to do.
This bussy is out. Go frick yourselves.
https://old.reddit.com/r/Drama/comments/8j22q3/my_bussy_rules/
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/u/pizzashill looked over his shoulder as he opened the apartment door. No one around. He took a deep shuddering breath and stepped inside, finding the kitchen immaculate, as always. Donald was waiting, standing at the counter, still wearing one of his large suits. “Get undressed.” He said, already loosening his tie. Donald was not a patient man. pizzashill gulped. His hands shook as he slid his blazer off, trying hard not to think about what is wife would say. Or, god forbid, his KKK grand wizard mom. This was a sin. Adultery was a sin. Homosexual relations were a sin, and here he was, bending over for Donald Trump three nights a week. pizzashill took off his tie, hanging it carefully over a kitchen stool next to his blazer. Donald was tossing his clothes on the floor, already pulling his belt off. To his shame, pizzashill felt himself grow hard at the sight of the other man with his belt in hand, already ready to teach pizzashill a lesson.
“Let’s move to the bedroom.” Donald said, not a suggestion at all. pizzashill flushed, flustered as always by their interactions.
“Alright.” He stuttered.
Donald looked at him, hard. pizzashill felt like he was back in /r/HillaryClinton pretending he had a job.
“Alright, what?” He demanded, flexing his hands.
pizzashill gulped, filled with lust and repulsion in equal measures.
“Alright, Mr. President.” He said quietly.
Trump made a sound of satisfaction, hand already down his silk boxers. pizzashill could see the fabric move as Donald touched himself. God help him, it was hot. Donald pulled him by the collar of his button up shirt towards the bedroom, shoving him towards the yaas queen-sized bed. pizzashill was used to the rough treatment by now, and only worked to pull his shirt off over his head. He pulled his belt off, tossing it to the ground. His hands froze on his zipper when Donald said “Stop. First, you’re gonna listen to what I have planned for my inauguration. I’ve decided that when I’m president, we’re not gonna do any of that worshipping the bussy shit.”
pizzashill flinched. “I knew you weren’t a smart guy. You’re fooling the /r/Drama illiterates.” He managed to say, peepee hard.
Donald sneered. This was just how he liked it. As though he was dominating him on a front-page post on /r/EnoughSandersSpam. “I’m very literate, I read all the time. I’d say I’m the most literate guy around.” He said, advancing towards pizzashill, his belt on the bed.
He pulled pizzashill to his feet by his upper arm, tugging his pants down with the other hand. Donald spun pizzashill around, so that his hands were on the bed, arms straight. Donald pressed against his back. His thick short hands snaked around to touch his peepee.
“Actually managed to get hard? Maybe you really are a man. I doubt it though.” pizzashill closed his eyes at the sharp spike of shame and pleasure. He could feel Donald’s own erection digging into his backside, still trapped in the silken boxers. He pressed back against it, not caring if at that moment he was a loser whore. He didn’t even bother to stifle a whimper when Donald moved towards the bedside table. The former smugposter of /r/Drama watched as Donald Trump opened the drawer and took out lube, as well one of his ‘make America great again’ hats.
Trump put the baseball cap on, tossing the lube down on the bed next to the belt, which he grabbed. pizzashill shuddered when Donald returned and pulled down his white underwear. pizzashill yelped when the belt smacked his butt for the first time, hard enough to leave a mark.
“Yeah, scream for me like your whore queen.” Donald told him.
“Don’t talk about Hil-“ He started to defend her, but was cut off by another slap of the belt.
He groaned, breathing hard, tears pricking his eyes. One last spank, this one even harder than the others. pizzashill was so close to cumming it almost ached.
Donald put his hands on the waist band of his boxers, to impatient to give him more than a few spanks. He paused for a moment. “It’s gonna be huge.” He said, pulling down his boxers to reveal his hard peepee. He grabbed the lube off the bed, quickly, and not quite thoroughly, preparing pizzashill. He thrust into him, a fistful of pizzashill’s hair in his hand making pizzashill arch his back, and strain his throat.
“Yeah that’s just how I want you. Frick. God I’d like to bend you over my agenda post.” Donald said, setting a quick and punishing pace. “I’d do it on the front page too. Then everyone could see how much of a loser you are. How much of a weak soy boy you are. How you’re not worthy of being a smugposter.”
pizzashill bit down on his bottom lip, not ready to climax yet. He tried to remember the ceramic turtles. Come on pizzashill, slow and steady would win this race. He tried to make himself last, but failed entirely when Trump groaned about his redneck mother in his ear. pizzashill came all over the white trash bedding, body slumping slightly. Trump paused for moment, readjusting their positions so that pizzashill was against the dresser next to the bed. The knobs dug into his hips as Donald orgasmed with a shout. He pulled out of pizzashill quickly, as always. Donald was not a man that lingered. The only thing either of them wore were their socks, and Donald’s hat.
pizzashill collected his clothes quietly, not wanting to be touched, without looking at Trump. He padded to the bathroom silently, well aware the other man was raking his eyes down his nude body. The shower was large, and marble, and disgustingly gaudy, like Donald himself. He started the shower, turning it to his preferred setting. All of this was routine by now. pizzashill climbed in when the water got hot, knowing he must have looked a sight. Belt marks on his backside, hair looking a mess, and c*m filled. He began scrubbing his body of the filth of what he had done, not even really noticing when the crying started. He stifled his sobs with the palm of his hand, not wanting Trump to hear and know that he had beaten pizzashill, yet again.
Twenty minutes later he stepped out, drying himself carefully and getting dressed. When he opened the bathroom door, the subreddit felt empty. They only used it for s*x, and Donald was a busy man. He was busy being president, pizzashill reminded himself needlessly. As if he could forget.
He retrieved his blazer and tie as he left, pulling them on before opening the front door. pizzashill locked the door behind him, and walked down the hall towards the elevators. He was headed to /r/politics for the night.
Written by /u/subpoutine
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- IRREDEEMABLE-CHUD : MUSEUMISIA