• Site is being DDOS'd by the shroom (they're DDOSing us and its slowing the soyjak blog)
    >over 1000 guests while about 30+ users are active

SUPERHELL Ban megathread

Marioman? He's not the type to post 'p, I only assumed that because the first post from his IP was a link to a sharty cytube with less than 10 people in it all huddled up watching soy video essays and in which Marioman was admin.
I'd rather push P
 
8rfu5o.png

Did this person post baby monkey torture by any chance
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>This user could not be found.
marge...
 
Shut. The. Fuck. UP. Literally what the *FUCK* are you rambling on about? What the fuck are you even talking about? Why, WHY are you arguing in this site? This isn't the /qresearch/ board, THIS IS FUCKING /SOY/. You are all a bunch of fucking sickos for even thinking of starting arguments. You all sound like a bunch of MENTALLY ILL patients. Fuck. You all need to get sent to padded cells, each and EVERY one of you. Sick and tired of these shitty little threads shitting up the board filled with infighting about the most TRIVIAL of bullshit. It sickens me that you even care about this much in a fucking BALD MAN WITH GLASSES WEBSITE. Mother of fuck
 
nigga doesnt realize its the fed who monitors him
You will never be a real woman. You have no womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs. You are a homosexual man twisted by drugs and surgery into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.

All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back people mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.

Men are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even trannies who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a man. Your bone structure is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk guy home with you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a whiff of your diseased, infected axe wound.

You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a rope, tie a noose, put it around your neck, and plunge into the cold abyss. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone marked with your birth name, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a man is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably male.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
 
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