He tabbed out and sat in his chair reflecting in awe on all his amazing round winning clutches, as he stared at his anime wallpaper of waifus with huge boobs holding highly modded and sci-fi like AR15's. He reached for his disposable vape pen and hit it until his room was basically inside a cloud. He stared at his lava lamp, and the wax inside started to look like cleavage, which reminded him of his favorite scene and gave him a huge boner that made him notice he had new grease stains on his shorts.

SORRY BUT IM DELETING YOU FROM MY LIFE! *clicks delete* LOADING... ▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓▓ 99%. ERROR! It is impossible to delete our friendship. You mean so much to me. Post this to 10 people's walls who you never want to lose. If you get 3 back, you're an amazing friend.

"6.5 Inches is small!" I knew I for got something of the stuff that I hear online, like I can fiz that man... whay should I do get an implant to reach the 12?

Got an 8 piece boneless strips. 4 honey chipotle, 4 chile lime and a fries. My stomach is gonna do back flips here in a moment after I slam my second tall Stella. God willing would let me sink into this despair and let me be forgotten

Hey buddy, you delivered some gay porn to my profile but I didn't order that. You're gonna have to come take back your gay porn because I don't want it. Gay porn isn't my jam, kemosabe.

The days blur together now, with nothing here but the waves, the sand, and Monkey Ball. My old life, my old worries—they’ve faded, replaced by the single-minded pursuit of perfection in this game. I’m convinced I’m the best; if anyone else were here, they’d see it, too. I’ve mastered every level, every turn, until the boundaries of the game and reality start to merge. I talk to the screen like it’s listening, daring it to challenge me with something I can’t beat. The island means nothing to me anymore—only the game does. Someday, someone will find me here, a legend, the undisputed master of Monkey Ball.