• Happy pride month, xisters of the schlog!

How come incels always talk about how women have it so easy

This is wrong, Original Sin sticks with you from birth unless you get baptized, what Adam and Eve did was just that bad. As for other sins, you gotta go to confession and repent for them in the name of Christ.
i like this take on the subject. will probably talk to my godfather abt this

as for you, i have awarded you with a Like reaction. I hope it serves you well.
 
This is wrong, Original Sin sticks with you from birth unless you get baptized, what Adam and Eve did was just that bad. As for other sins, you gotta go to confession and repent for them in the name of Christ.
faith not works
 
The effects of the medication diminished during my surgical procedure, and all that was provided to me was a snack of Little Debbie. I metaphorically define myself as an abortion, my aspirations reflecting similar futility, as I feel ensnared within them. I find myself in an unfamiliar corporeal space, struggling for air, accompanied by others who share in this ordeal, and I experience a sensation of suffocation within my own viscera. I habitually utilize a ruler to construct perfect circles, yet the calming agents I ingested exacerbated my condition. The unrelenting turmoil persists, and I am overwhelmed with fatigue. I cannot afford to jeopardize my scholarship! The urgency of my thoughts races, while my cognitive faculties respond at a sluggish pace. I am acutely aware of every nerve beneath my scalp, surging across my cranium like electrified spaghetti, lamenting in anguish as their final vestige of hope is irrevocably extinguished. My fixation on my canine companion consumes me; I cannot leave him unattended, lest he soil my footwear. I have fiddled with the padlock innumerable times; the number of shakes of one leg must equal that of the other, or I shall succumb to tears, which would set off an uncontrollable tremor and frighten my dog, leading to further accidents. The prospect of enduring persistent canine urine on my floors fills me with dread, as I fear universal disdain from my peers. I am encircled by individuals I perceive as harboring animosity towards me, and I sense I am on the verge of fainting once more. I must generate additional affirmations; where are the sticky notes? I maintain them in a specific location, yet they are inexplicably absent! Despite consuming copious amounts of water, my oral cavity feels parched. In my youth, I permitted my dog to lick me inappropriately, an act I now regret deeply. My attempts to engage with Facebook have proven futile, as it repeatedly redirects me to other social media accounts. I endeavor to compile a list of affirmations, but I find myself constantly erasing and recommencing the task, compelled to repetitively inscribe them to avoid the perception of slovenliness. A sensation of my tongue becomes palpable; it writhes in my mouth akin to a worm, a creature that perpetuates falsehoods. I long for the capability to fast-forward through these tribulations and bring them to a conclusion. Furthermore, I perceive amoebas traversing my skin, and I am rapidly depleting my supply of rubber gloves.
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