Depends on how much time you've spent here trough out those years
I smelled what the Rock was cookin'
definitely true. it's been on and off. Not HEAPS. Some period of time.. say 6 months here and there and then disappear for a couple of years.
No. Maybe just before my time.. or during my time but I was never on it. I was just a young kid when the internet was starting up.
Thank you for posting this. I've been waiting
You must be newer than me. You would only say that if I said something like
>high lel guyz! i've been hear 4 teh 2 months! im le oldefag!
I understand I haven't been here for too long, so that doesn't make any sense to say.
Back in 09 some dude I met on Omegle told me how obsessed he was with boxxy and traps.
I proceeded to ask other people on there about boxxy and they kept flashing the "/b/" randomly throughout their sentences but wouldn't explain it. So I started doing the same and kept getting "You just broke the first rule," that's when I was like holy shit what is this. And here I am, 7 years later, unable to pull myself away.
I sing the body electric,
The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,
They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,
And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.
Was it doubted that those who corrupt their own bodies conceal themselves?
And if those who defile the living are as bad as they who defile the dead?
And if the body does not do fully as much as the soul?
And if the body were not the soul, what is the soul?
The love of the body of man or woman balks account, the body itself balks account,
That of the male is perfect, and that of the female is perfect.
The expression of the face balks account,
But the expression of a well-made man appears not only in his face,
It is in his limbs and joints also, it is curiously in the joints of his hips and wrists,
It is in his walk, the carriage of his neck, the flex of his waist and knees, dress does not hide him,
The strong sweet quality he has strikes through the cotton and broadcloth,
To see him pass conveys as much as the best poem, perhaps more,
You linger to see his back, and the back of his neck and shoulder-side.
The sprawl and fulness of babes, the bosoms and heads of women, the folds of their dress, their style as we pass in the street, the contour of their shape downwards,
Okay, here's the story of the girl, she's was in Canada, and she died from drinking antifreeze.
Her name was Mary-Ann Rialeb, and she was at a party. It was at a college senior's apartment in Vancouver. His little brother had apparently spiked some drinks with antifreeze to try to get all the girls drunk really fast, but didn't realize it was poison and could kill them.
The only one who actually drank any was Mary-Ann, and she had already had some drinks before then. She got really weird drunk and started complaining about not being able to see anything. She the guy (the senior's little bro, not the senior) convinced her to strip down and pose for some pictures. He left to get his camera and then when he came back he asked if it would be alright to snap some pictures. She didn't say anything so he assumed it was okay, and he took one or two pics. He then asked if she would change her position and pose but she still didn't say anything, so he moved her around.
As he took the pictures, he was uploading them on the computer. It wasn't until he had snapped 4 pictures that he realized she wasn't breathing. The fourth picture, he had pulled her bra off. That one is very rare.
But anyway, after that, he found she was dead and panicked and called an ambulance (after doing what he does best,) but the pictures were already up on the internet. When her mom found out, she got scared and was quoted as saying "I'm your dream, mind astray, I'm your eyes while youre away, I'm your pain while you repay. You know its SAD BUT TRUE!!!!"
The swimmer naked in the swimming-bath, seen as he swims through the transparent green-shine, or lies with his face up and rolls silently to and fro in the heave of the water,
The bending forward and backward of rowers in row-boats, the horseman in his saddle,
Girls, mothers, house-keepers, in all their performances,
The group of laborers seated at noon-time with their open dinner-kettles, and their wives waiting,
The female soothing a child, the farmer’s daughter in the garden or cow-yard,
The young fellow hoeing corn, the sleigh-driver driving his six horses through the crowd,
The wrestle of wrestlers, two apprentice-boys, quite grown, lusty, good-natured, native-born, out on the vacant lot at sun-down after work,
The coats and caps thrown down, the embrace of love and resistance,
The upper-hold and under-hold, the hair rumpled over and blinding the eyes;
The march of firemen in their own costumes, the play of masculine muscle through clean-setting trowsers and waist-straps,
The slow return from the fire, the pause when the bell strikes suddenly again, and the listening on the alert,
The natural, perfect, varied attitudes, the bent head, the curv’d neck and the counting;
Such-like I love—I loosen myself, pass freely, am at the mother’s breast with the little child,
Swim with the swimmers, wrestle with wrestlers, march in line with the firemen, and pause, listen, count.
I knew a man, a common farmer, the father of five sons,
And in them the fathers of sons, and in them the fathers of sons.
This man was of wonderful vigor, calmness, beauty of person,
The shape of his head, the pale yellow and white of his hair and beard, the immeasurable meaning of his black eyes, the richness and breadth of his manners,
These I used to go and visit him to see, he was wise also,
He was six feet tall, he was over eighty years old, his sons were massive, clean, bearded, tan-faced, handsome,
They and his daughters loved him, all who saw him loved him,
They did not love him by allowance, they loved him with personal love,
He drank water only, the blood show’d like scarlet through the clear-brown skin of his face,
He was a frequent gunner and fisher, he sail’d his boat himself, he had a fine one presented to him by a ship-joiner, he had fowling-pieces presented to him by men that loved him,
When he went with his five sons and many grand-sons to hunt or fish, you would pick him out as the most beautiful and vigorous of the gang,
You would wish long and long to be with him, you would wish to sit by him in the boat that you and he might touch each other.
>newfags thinking they earned the right to call themselves oldfags
>real oldfags don't call themselves oldfags
>mfw everyone in this thread is a roodypoo candyassgot
Heres the original
>Pretends to be an Oldfag
Fucking wanna be XD
When I was in 8th grade I transitioned from YTMND to here. I am 24 now and visit /b/ everyday. It has ruined my self esteem, I have horrible sexual anxiety now and no friends. I feel you.