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Tuesday Morning's Asian Gorl thread!
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>Tuesday Morning's Asian Gorl thread!
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In case you missed yesterday's stuff!


Asian Gorl spied me from afar, and decided to descend upon me with the peril of a thousand lusts! We had sex... but it came at the cost of her honor! Now she is besmirched, and seeks to reclaim her glory by prostituting a dinky black book as the source of all the black magic which possessed her!

I made some of this up... well imagined it... Asian Gorl would never sleep with me willingly. She would sleep with my money, or my popularity, but never me...
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Asian Gorl also found out that she was the only one who could turn me on! This revelation came upon her when she saw the consistency in Asian Gorl threads related to my masturbation habits. Shocked and appalled, she decided to find safety in the most derelict, most dilapidated apartment building: Macy's Warehouse!

Asian Gorl is muted... detached from the world. She waits for Seuss to return, though he has not given a notice for a rendezvous...

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Asian Gorl is beleaguered... squandering her finances and her charms on men who only want her for her money, she realizes seuss may be the closest thing to a real relationship she has... ;w; so romantic!
Cold blooded.
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A reptile...?
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Reptiles like baby crocadillas make little noises you can mimic with your throat lol or so they stay.
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Seuss rode his bike into flushing one day... he saw Asian Gorl! What a wild and vivid reverie! His mind immediately halted, and for a time, all he could think of was how enchanting Asian Gorl was. He does this a lot... it's like his special drug, a kind of downer which slows his heart rate, specifically tailored to persuade the endorphins into effect, but gentle enough to inhibit the serotonin, a quality of drug-like dreaminess.. Asian Gorl...

Seuss is a drug addict.

There's a commonality between success and people who like to have it, though I think in reptiles the case is subjunctive...
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Asian Gorl thinks I need to man up! I'm an elegantly disheveled loafer, a kind of lazy aristocrat, though I am poor... How could she feel so upset with me! I am truly showing effort...

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>“It’s about nine thirty,” he said, striding over and slipping under the sheets, wrapping his arms around her from behind, and pulling her body against his. “Spooning time!” he declared playfully, kissing the nape of her neck several times. Rachel turned around to face him and began to trace a line from his forehead to his chin. “Did anyone ever tell you …” she began. “… that I have the most perfect profile?” Nick said, finishing her question with a laugh. “I only hear that every single day from my beautiful girlfriend, who is clearly deranged. Did you sleep well?”
Cen u explaen th stoerylyne of tis comic to me fren I nevr unerstood wurts goyng on in it
It's Cheese in the Trap! The story of Hong-Seol and her adventures through college... she seems to gravitate towards drama, though it might be because of her immutability and her desire for justice! These qualities within her drive her into new heights, where she is christened a kind of social champion, through grace, integrity and respect!
Teh way yu explane actlly maeks me wabnt to goe reade it, you'reue good at explaining things fren! Maebee aisle go chekcke it aout :o
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I really wanta asian gorle-fren. Sometimes I dream about my Korean algebra teacher I had freshman year who had a very noticeable crush on me. I should've taken advantage of that
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>In recent years he’d been writing a column for the Chinese-language Global Weekly on English grammar and usage. If denied tenure, he would become a joke, not only in the college but also to the Chinese community that knew him as an expert. His reputation would crumble. People would gloat over his misfortune, especially those who resented his negative view of contemporary Chinese arts. If only he hadn’t been so careless and so impatient. How true the saying was: “Nothing but your own stupidity can undo you.
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>She may have been unusually beloved, the precious only daughter, spoiled and mirror gazing because of the affection the family lavished on her. When her husband left, they welcomed the chance to take her back from the in-laws; she could live like the little daughter for just a while longer. There are stories that my grandfather was different from other people, “crazy ever since the little Jap bayoneted him in the head.” He used to put his naked penis on the dinner table, laughing. And one day he brought home a baby girl, wrapped up inside his brown western-style greatcoat. He had traded one of his sons, probably my father, the youngest, for her. My grandmother made him trade back. When he finally got a daughter of his own, he doted on her. They must have all loved her, except perhaps my father, the only brother who never went back to China, having once been traded for a girl.
what is the name of this comic
nevermind i read the thread
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Cheese in the Trap! Is Hong-Seol bait...? Or something else?
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>“Thank you,” I said modestly. “I like to cook when I have the time.” I sat watching the cake disappear, the smiling pink mouth first, then the nose and then one eye. For a moment there was nothing left of the face but the last green eye; then it too vanished, like a wink. He started devouring the hair.
it's korean which means that there's probably going to be a lot of cucking involved
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Unsurprisingly, you're right!
Well, fuck. Why are korean mangakas so obsessed with cucking? Do they think it's good writing?
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Something, something Wuthering Heights.

Also infidelity and promiscuous sex practices are widely considered dramatic and palatable to a wide arrange of audiences.
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>I’m sorry, I said, but I think we have a semantic problem. A problem in communications, or maybe it’s linguistics. What does spending the night usually mean to you? I mean, I’m not knocking the orange juice but I don’t have to spend the night on the sofa to get it, I can squeeze it myself, you know what I mean?
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>An ideal image and not a body double, not the mechanical device replicating the president’s signature, not the political surrogate spouting regional forecasts, not the plagiarist of ideas and style, not the hacker of an identity that is sixteen numbers. Eidolon—the companion at the desk, my spirit-image, like an old pair of pajamas I will change into when life is done, when I will see at last the original writing that I changed, scratching over it millions of words to dig for the original meaning.
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>When it came to Noboru Wataya, though, my system refused to function. I was unable simply to shove Noboru Wataya into a domain having no connection with me. And that fact itself annoyed the hell out of me. Kumiko’s father was an arrogant, unpleasant man, to be sure, but finally he was a small-minded character who had lived by clinging to a simple set of narrow beliefs. I could forget about someone like that. But not Noboru Wataya. He knew what kind of a man he was. And he had a pretty good idea of what made me tick as well. If he had felt like it, he could have crushed me until there was nothing left. The only reason he hadn’t was that he didn’t give a damn about me. I wasn’t worth the time and energy it would have taken to crush me. And that’s what got me about him. He was a despicable human being, an egoist with nothing inside him. But he was a far more capable individual than I was.
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>So let me rephrase: I am the author of a novel told by a doppelgänger in possession of my thoughts, who inserts her subconscious into my subconscious, which is rather like being unaware that someone has deftly slipped her hands into mine. My hands are not the ones tapping the keyboard, although I still believe they are, and these words you are reading are entirely hers, which I still believe are mine
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>Your friends are pretending to be all kinds of stuff, and your special job is to call them on it. Drew says he’s going straight to law school. After practicing awhile, he’ll run for state senator. Then U.S. senator. Eventually, president. He lays all this out the way you’d say, After Modern Chinese Painting I’ll go the gym, then work in Bobst until dinner, if you even made plans anymore, which you don’t—if you were even in school anymore, which you aren’t, although that’s supposedly temporary.
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I don't understand how anyone could be afraid of another's sibling when the victim himself is much more terrifying.
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>He went to the Compound singles bar; no joy there, he already knew most of those women, he didn’t need their neediness. He went back to Internet porn, found it had lost its bloom: it was repetitive, mechanical, devoid of its earlier allure. He searched the Web for the HottTotts site, hoping that something familiar would help him to feel less isolated, but it was defunct.
Just get a fucking psychiatrist or check yourself into a mental ward you goddamn lunatic.
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I can't get a job when you keep raising popular opinions about me.
its a bot
Thanks for recreationally ruining my life.
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>The translator’s hand was soft. So soft, it seemed my hand would sink completely into his. This hand had done so many things to me—stroked my hair, made my tea, stripped me, bound me—and with each new act it had been reborn as something different. But was the hand that held mine now the same one that had killed a woman? The thought occurred to me at times, but it did not frighten me in the least. Had this hand strangled her? Or stabbed her with a pair of scissors? Or made her drink poison? I had no idea. But I could easily imagine how gracefully the fingers would have done those things … the curve of the knuckles, the faint web of blue veins.
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>She eats all the time, almost as a reflex, like breathing. Her eyes are clear and expressionless, fixed somewhere off in space. Her lips move vigorously, like the thighs of a sprinter. But for me very little has changed; it's just like when she was sick all the time—all I can do is sit back and watch.
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i wish my benis was indestructible so i could spend another 6 hours jerking off in front of strangers
whats interesting? Please tell me
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>Some of them promised to come; some offered their talismans—a branch from a peach tree, a Christian cross, a red paper with good words written on it. But my mother refused them all. “If I take charms, then the ghost will hide from me. I won’t learn what kind of ghost it is, or whether or not a ghost lives in there at all. I’ll only bring a knife to defend myself and a novel in case I get bored and can’t sleep. You keep the charms; should I call for help, bring them with you.” She went to her own room and got weapon and book, though not a novel but a textbook.
>Two of her roommates walked her to the ghost room. “Aren’t you afraid?” they asked.
>“What is there to be afraid of?” she asked. “What could a ghost do to me?” But my mother did pause at the door. “Listen,” she said, “if I am very afraid when you find me, don’t forget to tweak my ears. Call my name and tell me how to get home.” She told them her personal name.
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>“Once I had decided to kill myself, I wanted to leave a note behind. I sat at my desk for an hour, trying to write down my reasons for dying. I wanted to make it clear that no one else was to blame, that the reasons were all inside me. I didn’t want my family feeling responsible for something that was not their fault.
>“But I could not finish the note. I tried over and over, but each new version seemed worse than the last. When I read what I had written, it sounded foolish, even comical. The more serious I tried to make it, the more ridiculous it came out. In the end, I decided not to write anything at all.
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>Too much happy-go-luckiness could also become detrimental to my fiction writing. If I was such an easy sucker for contrived sentimentality, I might lose my sensitivity for the nuances of human nature, intent, and emotional truth. I would become a divining rod for schlock. I would become the literary embodiment of clichéd expressions and too many exclamation marks. I chuckled! I gasped! I sighed! I sobbed! I would gush to people: My dogs are just too cute. My husband is just so sweet. My best friend is just the greatest. Maybe the change had already started and it showed in my writing.
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>That is how I feel: white, flat, thin. I feel transparent. Surely they will be able to see through me. Worse, how will I be able to hold on to Luke, to her, when I’m so flat, so white? I feel as if there’s not much left of me; they will slip through my arms, as if I’m made of smoke, as if I’m a mirage, fading before their eyes. Don’t think that way, Moira would say. Think that way and you’ll make it happen.
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>“If I’m at fault, I’ll apologize. I only hope it’s my imagination. But instead of accusing me, shouldn’t you search your own conscience? Are you sure you have nothing to be ashamed of?”
>“There you go talking like that again! You know I find Mitsuko attractive—that’s why we became friends. Didn’t you yourself say you wanted to meet her, if she’s so beautiful? It’s natural to be attracted to beautiful people, and between women it’s like enjoying a work of art. If you think that’s unhealthy, you’re the unhealthy one!
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>We lived on Waverly Place, in a warm, clean, two-bedroom flat that sat above a small Chinese bakery specializing in steamed pastries and dim sum. In the early morning, when the alley was still quiet, I could smell fragrant red beans as they were cooked down to a pasty sweetness. By daybreak, our flat was heavy with the odor of fried sesame balls and sweet curried chicken crescents. From my bed, I would listen as my father got ready for work, then locked the door behind him, one-two-three clicks.
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Seuss and Christine have SEX!

At first he was reluctant... but then she forced him into it, and well, now look at them! Like animals in the bush!

She moans, she cries (eyes are a little red), and she even takes the knot!

just how far can we stray from reality before there is no turning back
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The point of no return is when the balls touch the outer ass. This is known as "balls deep."
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Why do Asian Gorls always throw out their Asianness for more Caucasian-American adopted values? I want to shove my dick into the heart of Japan, not some white girl...

>I taught her how American circumstances work. If you are born poor here, it's no lasting shame. You are first in line for a scholarship. If the roof crashes on your head, no need to cry over this bad luck. You can sue anybody, make the landlord fix it. You do not have to sit like a Buddha under a tree letting pigeons drop their dirty business on your head. You can buy an umbrella. Or go inside a Catholic church. In America, nobody says you have to keep the circumstances somebody else gives you.
>She learned these things, but I couldn't teach her about Chinese character. How to obey parents and listen to your mother's mind. How not to show your own thoughts, to put your feelings behind your face so you can take advantage of hidden opportunities. Why easy things are not worth pursuing. How to know your own worth and polish it, never flashing it around like a cheap ring. Why Chinese thinking is best.
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de ja vu

Your fortune: You will meet a dark handsome stranger
Asian Gorl...
imagine meeting asian girl at the corner store and after talking with her for a couple minutes you never see her again
yeah that's the dream bud
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Sayaka Murata is famous for blowing up incels...



>In “Convenience Store Woman,” Keiko eventually invites a male co-worker to move in with her as a roommate — he sleeps in the bathroom — but allows friends and her sister to assume that the two are romantically involved. Keiko, on the other hand, regards him as a pet, even describing meals as “feeding time.”
I can’t even think of a way to comment on this
Asian Gorl is... a heaven sent nymph to relieve me of my virginity! A tableaux which rests between the static of maturity, waiting to be read by her one and true! An angel without a master... an omen... dokidoki...
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Asian Gorl is a siren... a sonorous creature which bewails the tides at evening! Shrieking, thundering, calling... out to someone, but whom!? Who could be so vested, so intimate with Asian Gorl as to haunt those few members of a small internet community!?

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Asian Gorl is a steam engine... trucking along the nebula of nostalgia. Branded and lettered against her side, the regal and majestic name: ASIAN EXPRESS.. housing a carriage of over a hundred guests... to a destination familiar, but somehow far away! What a terror, a destination with no location!

hi saucy
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What's up!?
Asian Gorl is creative.. set aside from the artist and his easel, she is suffused with ideas both enigmatic and provocative! The artist paints where she infers, her ability to comprehend: astute! She is a brick-layer in the antechamber of imagination... A true heliotrope, veritable only by her jouissance! The intellect which savors from her lips, and made to taste by her wit! The trigger of eternity, the infinity trigger!

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Is Asian gorl always so attentive? That must be troublesome lol how does Asian gorl relax!
what kind of music does asian gorl listen to?
Well I thought she liked Coldplay, but it turned out to morph and mold into several music genres...
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Seuss has SEX with ASIAN GORL.

>"Do you like that? Mmnfh."
>"I like that, yeah I like that! shit... Shit!"
>"I never knew sex with Asian Gorl could be so exciting!"
>"H-holy shit! Me either!"
>"Those guys... are they seriously getting their minds blown over interracial sex?"
>"Yeah, but don't ruin their moment. I think this is important somehow..."

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Okay this is getting creepy... Looks like everyone wants to have sxe wid me....
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i refuse to believe you are a female that is into lolis and pregnancy but that would be really cool if you were
There is nothing wrong with being a girl into fertility and reproduction UwU
nice gif i saved it lole
but i still don't believe you. what would make a girl into impregnation? is it seeing other girls pregnant or wanting to be impregnated? neither? both?
bleeding now, going to bed
when you wake up next to asian gorl and wake her up with a face full of cum

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