Your parents going at it missionary on Fri night while you play Nintendo
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Poast new message in this thread
Date: September 28th, 2023 8:51 PM Author: Concupiscible bearded goal in life organic girlfriend
This is scared, no? You're deep in a sub-sub-sub-dungeon in Legacy of the Wizard, your Xemn character has just annihilated an entire legion of Lightballs and Kraugen across one of its labyrinthine levels, your Starter jacket is draped casually over the desk chair in your bedroom, your Reebok Pumps sitting atop the pile of dirty clothes in the corner near the sliding door of your closet decorated in WWF posters, the cat is sleeping on your bed, you can hear the faint notes of Tom Brokaw describing the deployment of additional forces to Iraq from the television downstairs, and, across the hall, there's the whisper hint of rhythmic grunts coming from your parents' bedroom as your father, all 5' 10" of him, his Levis piled on the floor beside their queen-size waterbed, his arms chiseled from work at the plant, his hairy belly glistening with the sweat of the endeavor, the same hands that gracefully piloted the emerald green Ford Taurus to your split-level abode, $20,000 down, 14% interest signed on the dotted line in the Era of Reagan, mere hours ago now holding down your mother's slender wrists, the left bedecked with a delicate 14k gold HSN watch, the right proudly holding the keepsake bracelet from their eighth anniversary, her arms spread outward, welcoming cruciform, is balls deep inside his lawfully and biblically wedded wife, pounding away, thrust upon thrust, not thinking about the end of the Cold War or the growing value of his pension plan or whether the Reds are going to take game four and embarrass the shit out of the As but simply reveling in the sheer, bestial pleasure of your mother's warm cunt, modestly appointed with a tended but never shorn carpet of curly brunette pubic hair, suitably wet for the occasion, it's never one to complain, never one to reject a properly prepared invitation, especially if she's gotten a little knock at the door beforehand, and life is beautiful in its safe simplicity.
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5414294&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5301927#46857184) |
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Date: October 31st, 2024 1:49 PM Author: glittery school cafeteria
But your father struggles to focus. His mind wanders. He attempts to access his lower brain stem, imaging the unbroken million year line of Great Apes that led to this moment. He concentrates on his purpose, the act of completion, the finality of achieving involuntary orgasm. "Do the deed, Fred," he says to himself. And yet on this chilly October night he is overwhelmed with sentiment.
He remembers his own father a generation before. A distant G-man in a professorial tweed coat, glasses, and a crew cut huddled around other identical men. "Marty, shut off that goddamn negro music." He lifts the needle off the Nat King Cole record. These men have gathered here for a purpose. They are building the world. A former sailor on a patrol boat off the coast of Nagasaki who had collected radioactive garbage had been too young for D-Day. His brother came home covered in invisible wounds, never the same.
They were city planners from the atomic age. Their boss knew Niels Bohr. It was only a matter of time before he was off the clock and could go home and smoke a jazz cigarette with Martha.
Fuck I don't know where this is going. Is it any good?
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5414294&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5301927#48263744)
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Date: September 28th, 2023 9:35 PM Author: Pea-brained Floppy Sound Barrier Stag Film
“See that little Turok cartridge — Kaze Emanuar could optimize it in two minutes. It took Acclaim three months to get it to compile — a whole studio walking very slowly, dying in front and pushing forward behind. And Nintendo walked very slowly backward a few inches a day, third parties scattering into the wind like a million bloody pixels. No Console maker will ever do that again in this generation.”
“Why, they’ve only just gotten the ninth gen underway,” said Caleb, “And gamepass —”
“That’s different. This N64 business couldn’t be done again, not for a long time. The young Losers think they could do it but they couldn’t. They could fight the first holiday season in '96 again but not this. This took religion and years of plenty of Games and tremendous sureties and the exact relation that existed between the classes and their respective Consoles. The Westerners weren’t any good on this front. You had to have a whole-souled sentimental equipment going back further than you could remember. You had to remember Shogatsu, and postcards of the Emperor and his fiancée, and little cafés in Shirakawa and beer gardens in Sapporo and weddings at the Kamigamo Jinja, and going to the Yūshun, and your grandfather’s hanafuda cards.”
“Yamuachi invented this kind of battle in Kyoto in eighty- five.”
“No, he didn’t — he just invented a system of game licensure. This kind of battle was invented by Ralph Baer and Masayuki Uemura and whoever wrote Kyōkasho, and country Sōryo bowling and daibo in Kanazawa and girls seduced in the back lanes of Osaka and Nara. Why, this was a love battle — there was a century of salaryman love spent here. This was the last love battle.”
(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5414294&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5301927#46857331) |
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