@Vermillion-RX @Durek_The_Bald

You’re not wrong. I did crawl out of the void just in time for Pride Month. But it wasn’t the rainbow flags that brought me back, it was missing the degenerates in this hellhole. So yeah, if that makes me gay, then line me up for the parade, I’ll bring glitter and bad decisions.

What actually reminded me of this place was seeing a bunch of washed-up high school mates doing that “3,200 push-ups in a month” challenge for men’s mental health.

At first, I thought it was peak clownery with more hashtag activism, more “raise awareness” BS. Like bro, if awareness cured depression, WebMD would be a religion.

But then I realized.. Even if it is virtue signalling, it still works. You grind through thousands of push-ups, you sweat, your body hurts, and surprise! You don’t feel like ending it all. Not because you raised awareness, but because your nervous system got a dopamine hit that wasn’t from scrolling TikTok.

So yeah. I came back to see how the old crew was holding up.

Glad to see most of you are still alive and kicking. Except @Woodsmoke. Fk that guy. He can rot.

@spooky speaking of Saint Patrick's Day and leprechauns, it's time for me to continue a little tradition of mine (for anyone who wishes to relive the past occasions, just enter "+magashiv +leprechaun" into the site's search feature).

Anyway...

A young man of Irish descent decided to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day in Boston. He entered a bar to begin his festivities. He saw a little dude in a green suit sitting at the bar drinking.

"Nah, can't be." he thought to himself.

He sat down next to the little guy and started drinking. After an hour or two, the young man couldn't stand it any longer.

"I can't believe I'm asking this, but are you a leprechaun?"

The midget in the green suit replied in a thick Irish brogue, "sure n' begorrah, I be a leprechaun."

The youth grabbed the little guy by the shoulder. "Well I just caught ya! Do I get your pot of gold?"

"Nay, laddie, 'tis no pot of gold, but t'ree wishes. But thar be a catch: ye have to let me fuck ye in the arse."

"No way! That's disgusting! I'm not gay!"

"Think aboot it, laddie! It's t'ree wishes! And they can be for anyt'ing!! Ain't that worth aboot 20 minutes of pain?"

The youngster finished his beer. "Fuck it. I know the manager, and he'll let us use one of the store rooms upstairs. Let's do this. I want my three wishes!"

A few minutes later, they're in that room, and the little man in the green suit (sans pants) is going to town in the young man's ass.

"So what's yer name, lad?"

"Nnngh! It's @Victor!"

"And how old are ye, @Victor?"

"AAAAAAGH! 22!"

"Isn't 22 a bit old to be believing in leprechauns, @Victor?"

@spooky speaking of Saint Patrick's Day and leprechauns, it's time for me to continue a little tradition of mine (for anyone who wishes to relive the past occasions, just enter "+magashiv +leprechaun" into the site's search feature).

Anyway...

A young man of Irish descent decided to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day in Boston. He entered a bar to begin his festivities. He saw a little dude in a green suit sitting at the bar drinking.

"Nah, can't be." he thought to himself.

He sat down next to the little guy and started drinking. After an hour or two, the young man couldn't stand it any longer.

"I can't believe I'm asking this, but are you a leprechaun?"

The midget in the green suit replied in a thick Irish brogue, "sure n' begorrah, I be a leprechaun."

The youth grabbed the little guy by the shoulder. "Well I just caught ya! Do I get your pot of gold?"

"Nay, laddie, 'tis no pot of gold, but t'ree wishes. But thar be a catch: ye have to let me fuck ye in the arse."

"No way! That's disgusting! I'm not gay!"

"Think aboot it, laddie! It's t'ree wishes! And they can be for anyt'ing!! Ain't that worth aboot 20 minutes of pain?"

The youngster finished his beer. "Fuck it. I know the manager, and he'll let us use one of the store rooms upstairs. Let's do this. I want my three wishes!"

A few minutes later, they're in that room, and the little man in the green suit (sans pants) is going to town in the young man's ass.

"So what's yer name, lad?"

"Nnngh! It's @Victor!"

"And how old are ye, @Victor?"

"AAAAAAGH! 22!"

"Isn't 22 a bit old to be believing in leprechauns, @Victor?"

@spooky speaking of Saint Patrick's Day and leprechauns, it's time for me to continue a little tradition of mine (for anyone who wishes to relive the past occasions, just enter "+magashiv +leprechaun" into the site's search feature).

Anyway...

A young man of Irish descent decided to celebrate Saint Patrick's Day in Boston. He entered a bar to begin his festivities. He saw a little dude in a green suit sitting at the bar drinking.

"Nah, can't be." he thought to himself.

He sat down next to the little guy and started drinking. After an hour or two, the young man couldn't stand it any longer.

"I can't believe I'm asking this, but are you a leprechaun?"

The midget in the green suit replied in a thick Irish brogue, "sure n' begorrah, I be a leprechaun."

The youth grabbed the little guy by the shoulder. "Well I just caught ya! Do I get your pot of gold?"

"Nay, laddie, 'tis no pot of gold, but t'ree wishes. But thar be a catch: ye have to let me fuck ye in the arse."

"No way! That's disgusting! I'm not gay!"

"Think aboot it, laddie! It's t'ree wishes! And they can be for anyt'ing!! Ain't that worth aboot 20 minutes of pain?"

The youngster finished his beer. "Fuck it. I know the manager, and he'll let us use one of the store rooms upstairs. Let's do this. I want my three wishes!"

A few minutes later, they're in that room, and the little man in the green suit (sans pants) is going to town in the young man's ass.

"So what's yer name, lad?"

"Nnngh! It's @Victor!"

"And how old are ye, @Victor?"

"AAAAAAGH! 22!"

"Isn't 22 a bit old to be believing in leprechauns, @Victor?"

@Victor

I don't even go out on dates expecting to find a soul mate anymore.

I'd wager it's continuing dates with woman that are into me that I don't find a personal connection with that burn me out.

I equate it to basically a ONS bar lay but we repeat the action. There's no chemistry, at least from my perspective.

While I don't believe in soul mates, I think it's undeniable there are women out there I just click/connect with from the initial hello. Those girls for me are 1 in 100. Maybe 1 in 1000.

That's how it feels with this girl and I'd rather take her out once or twice a week versus seeing her every other week and filling in the gaps with women I'm simply fucking.

If I get a solid six months out of her, I'd be happy to have spent the time with her over other frivolous fucks. If it blows up in my face, pussy isn't hard to find.