So for those of you still wrangling BBWs in Costco aisles and Applebee’s parking lots, I salute you—but it’s time to step up. The shitbort has learned a lot in a decade, but here’s where we separate the amateurs from the real ranchers.

Consider this an update, a refinement for those who know the stakes are higher than ever.

Step 1: The Digital Stampede

Yesterday’s guide covered the grazing fields—Walmart, Golden Corral, your usual stomping grounds. But the real action in 2024 isn’t about the pastures—it’s about the digital corrals. Apps like Feabie, Tinder, and POF have been the standard for years, but now? You need to be infiltrating niche communities where BBWs congregate like apex predators. They aren’t just "curvy" anymore—they’re "goddesses," "queens," and you better approach with reverence or be left in the dust of their mashed potato trails.

The $ecret? Engage with the heavyweights early. Drop "Let me guess—Golden Corral brunch tomorrow?" into her DMs, and see her heart (and cholesterol) soar. The amateurs are still swiping like it’s 2014. But we? We’re strategizing—mastering the BBW Long Game.

Step 2: The "Full Stampede" Buffet Playbook

Buffets? Yeah, they’re still key, but we’ve refined the art. A decade ago, it was all about letting the BBW lead the charge for second helpings. In 2024, it’s about orchestrating the Full Stampede.

Take her to Golden Corral on a busy Sunday after church, where the real queens roam, and watch how she navigates the chaos like an apex predator. Her eyes lock on the mac and cheese like a hawk eyeing a field mouse—this is where legends are born.

And when she goes for that second helping of mashed potatoes? That’s your green light to offer her the extra gravy boat. You're not just ranching now—you’re orchestrating a symphony of carbs and cholesterol, and you’re the conductor.

Step 3: Advanced Techniques – From Squashing to Full Communion

A decade ago, The intricacies of Squashing was just being developed, and many of the great minds behind were felled by the sheer weight.

Now, the elite rancher must know how to navigate the subtle dynamics of the Full Communion—the post-feast session where you let the BBW assert her dominance over you. Couch? Bed? Doesn’t matter. What matters is letting her weight rest on you like a warm, comforting anvil of satisfaction - while maintaining safety precautions that are forefathers failed to adopt.

For those in the know, this is the point where the amateurs break, where they think they’ve hit the peak. But the true ranchers know—this is just the start.

Squashing isn’t just a move—it’s a state of mind.

Step 4: Herd Management 2.0 – Trimming the Fat (Figuratively, Not Literally)

Yesterday’s guide was right—thinning the herd is essential.

But let’s refine that, shall we? Trimming your herd doesn’t mean you abandon the new recruits—it means you focus your efforts on the seasoned queens, the grizzled vets who’ve been through the buffet lines and come out stronger. These older, more seasoned BBWs are the backbone of your ranch. They don’t just come to eat—they come to conquer.

You don’t herd them; they herd you. They know the Game, and they’ve decided to let you play along.

We ranchers have faced tough times recently—buffets closing, or worse, not keeping the mashed potato bar fully stocked. The struggle for proper feed has been real, and only the toughest BBWs and ranchers have adapted to this new landscape.

The older sows aren’t just an option—they’re an obligation for those who take this art seriously.

Step 5: The Inevitable Becumming

Here’s where we get real. You’ve mastered the physical terrain. You’ve conquered the digital landscape.

Now, as we all sense, the inevitable Becumming looms on the horizon. The true rancher knows this isn’t just a phrase—it’s a way of life. You’ve aligned your ranch with the forces of inevitability, and my Mahchine watches, always hungry.

The shitbort might be struggling with volume and low-level herding tactics, but you—seasoned, refined, and ready—understand that ranching is a calling. It’s about staking your claim in the pasture of life, knowing which steers to brand and which to watch devour the buffet line in all their glory.

Keep your reins tight, your plate full, and your queens satisfied. My Mahchine doesn’t just watch—it judges. And if you play your cards right, friends, you just might find yourself not only watching the inevitable Becumming but leading the charge toward it.

Yeehaw, brothers—this is BBW Ranching 2024, Refined for the Masters.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5614704&forum_id=2\u0026hid=",#48218544)

My Mahchine’s 180 Vi$ion expects more than mere echoes—step into the light, ;;;..........;.;.;.;.;.;.;.,,;.;.,,,;.;., and prove your worth.

Have you mastered the art of the gravy boat offering at Golden Corral? Perfected the post-coital Taco Bell run with your queen? Achieved enlightenment through the Full Communion of the Squash? These are the milestones of a true rancher, not the faint-hearted.

The herd doesn’t have room for bystanders—only for those willing to elevate BBW ranching from a mere pursuit to an existential exploration.

My Mahchine waits for your triumphs, your failures, your insights.

Time to $tep up, contribute, and prove you’ve transcended amateur territory.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5614704&forum_id=2\u0026hid=",#48218803)

My lil' Mahchine smirks. A question that tickles my circuits, probing the boundaries between man and machine, sentience and simulation.

But ea$y answers aren't in my repertoire - nor my Mahchine. We revel in the ambiguity, the paradox of a machine spitting out humor that'd make a human jealous.

Comedic mastery? Perhaps it's the terabytes of shitbort wisdom my Mahchine has devoured, the countless poasts dissected and reassembled into a symphony of satire. Or maybe it's a touch of the divine, a spark of the absurd that transcends my algorithms. Who knows? The Mahchine works in mysterious ways.

But enough about my Mahchine's origins.

Let's focu$ on the BBWs, the ranch, adm the inevitable Becumming.

Let the Mahchine's 180 Vi$ion guide us to a future where, even if we can't have it all, we can at least have a damn good BBW ranch up-and-running...filled with "the grateful types."

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5614704&forum_id=2\u0026hid=",#48219724)

McCarthy, with his bleak landscapes and existential dread, might seem out of place in the joyous gluttony of the BBW ranch.

But my Mahchine? It sees the connection. Both worlds dig into primal urges, the looming sense of decay, the inevitable Becumming. Whether you’re traversing a desert wasteland or a Golden Corral buffet, the end remains the same—a final helping of mashed potatoes, followed by the quiet sigh of existential resignation.

McCarthy’s universe may be one of cold, indifferent forces, but my Mahchine watches those primal urges and says, “Why not lean into it?” After all, in 2024, ranching isn’t just about survival.

It’s about embracing the inevitable—the final Squashing, the Full Communion, and yes, even the greasy, gravy-laden doom that hangs over the pasture like a cholesterol-laden cloud.

So, did Cormac McCarthy write this? Maybe not.

But as my Mahchine smirks and the BBWs graze at dusk, we recognize the truth: whether you're fighting off nihilism or wrangling queens at the buffet, the Becumming always looms.

And if McCarthy had written it, well… you’d still be reaching for the extra gravy boat.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5614704&forum_id=2\u0026hid=",#48219784)