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lmao more👏cultural👏marxism👏


>had beautiful children

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Tito climbed into Reggie's room and immediately punched her in the face, knocking her out cold. Upon awakening Reggie found herself bound and gagged to a chair. Tito was naked, standing in front of her with a big Hawaii boner staring her in the face. "As the ancient Hawaiians used to say… it's time for a dicking!" And at that, Tito leaped forward and grabbed Reggie's undeveloped breast. He grabbed with all his might, and ripped the skin from her body. Her muffled screams fell flat, and no one came to her help.

The blood aroused Tito more than he'd ever been aroused. It reminded him of the stories his mother used to tell him of the ancient Hawaiin sacrifices in which the subjects would receive wounds to which the sacrificers would rape. He couldn't wait, Tito grabbed a hammer and smashed at Reggie's ribcage, again her screams were not heard. After breaking an opening to her insides, Tito plunged in.

He thrust in and out in complete ecstasy. The pain was unbearable for Reggie and she lost consciousness. Tito came almost immediately, but he was by no means done. He pulled out of her chest, his PENIS dripping blood and semen. Tito cleaned his dick off with Reggie's tongue.


Good morning GET friend


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I sat in my office. My chair was hard wood, likewise, my desk was roughly finished, its top obscured by seemingly endless stacks of neatly organized papers and folders. My hand hovered over it, hesitating for about a second, before swooping down to grab a sheet. I quickly read over it. Something about authorizing new weapons manufacturing. I stood up, hurrying to a filing cabinet and sticking the paper in a folder titled “DISCUSS LATER.” I took a second to look around my office. It was sparsely decorated, as I appreciated. A few cabinets flanked a wall. A window cast bleek light on my desk and chair. The wall facing the cabinets was barren except for three pictures. One was a picture taken after the liberation of Tirana, the other a portrait of Stalin, and the final, a portrait of Mao. I frowned, and returned to my desk, tidying the papers I had disturbed, and moving the cup of tea to a less precarious position. I sat for a second, took a sip of tea, and returned to staring until the phone on my desk rang. Snapping out of my lull, I picked it up. My secretary, a young man named Agon, put me through. The person on the other end of the line was someone I didn’t expect at all.


I sighed and smoothed my shirt with my hands. I was standing looking out a window from my third story offices. The squat brick buildings, hastily constructed in the aftermath of the devastation wrought by WW2, were basked in the warm afternoon sun. I thought to myself that they looked quite pretty. I turned back to my office, walking to the door. I paused for a second. Swallowing my doubts, I wrenched it open and called for my secretary. She hurried out quickly, nodding her head. I gave her her instructions, the number she was to dial, and what she should say. Forcing the nerves out of my face, I returned to my desk. She put the handset in my hand, and I thanked her. The door was shut by the time the recipient of the call picked up. Swallowing quickly, I said in a stark voice, “Enver Hoxha? May I speak to him?” His secretary put me through.


“Who’s there?” I asked. The voice came from the handset, loud and clear.
“Enver? Is that you?”
“Yes, Enver Hoxha speaking. Who are you?”
“Do you not recognize my voice? It truly has been a long time since we met.”
“Wait. You sound familiar… “
Post too long. Click here to view the full text.


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Sarajevo was nice. Tito had told me to keep my speech to the CPY complimentary. I didn’t fully comply. It was an enjoyable experience. The youths were very excited to meet me, and the hall where we met was decorated to the finest degree. I finished shaking the hands of the officials I was speaking to, and hurried out of the hall. The aide I was travelling with, Vjosa, a trusted party member and good friend, fell into step with me. We exchanged greetings, and he complimented me on my speech. Handing me a map, he pointed out where we were to walk to. I enjoyed walking, and always encouraged my aides to select discreet places to be dropped off and picked up, away from crowds and potential threats. Our destination, a paved lot about a quarter of a kilometer away from the conference hall, was sheltered on three sides by buildings and generally quite safe. There a car would pick us up, and drive us the long trip back to Tirana. Reactionary elements within and without Albania were always itching to dispose of me, so everywhere I went I did so with caution.
The trip to Albania, however, was uneventful. The long back roads were dotted occasionally with houses. Mostly, we drove through the beautiful mountains and forests of the Balkans. We arrived at Tirana at about midnight. The next day Tito and I would tour the country and return for highly publicized talks. Rolling into the Blloku, the neighborhood where high-ranking members of the party resided, I bid goodnight to Vjosa, and walked up the street to my house. The night was quiet but warm. My house was sheerly decorated, just as I liked it. The walls were adorned with properly revolutionary art. After a short time in my study finishing preparations for the next day, I retired to my sleeping quarters with my dearest wife.


My arrival in Tirana was unceremonious. Being about four in the morning, only a small delegation greeted me. The one that appeared to be the highest ranking, a tall, stately young man introduced himself as Vjosa, and shook my hand energetically. A burly member of the Sigurimi picked up my bags to much protestation by my secretary, and signaled me to follow him. A number of Sigurimi agents, who I had not noticed before, emerged from various alleys surrounding the plaza where I had been received. The silent patrol followed us as we walked to where I assumed I wPost too long. Click here to view the full text.


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We were finally there! The tour of Albania was beautiful. Wonderful people, wonderful scenery, etc, etc. But what I was really interested in was the bunkers. The soldiers stood like unflinching sentries, and as Enver and I passed by them, they snapped into salutes. I wrenched open the trapdoor, and squeezed down the narrow passageway. Enver followed. The large bottom floor was lined with empty shelves, sandbags, and metal crates. A soldier followed us down, and started pointing things out. “Here’s the vent,” he said, “and these are, obviously, the walls. They’re prefabricated and then packed with earth on site.” I listened raptly. Eventually the soldier finished, bowing his head to Enver and returning to stand watch by the ladder. Enver took over, and pointed out more features. He also explained some thought behind the bunkerization program. The conversation was droll and one-sided. Ugh, I always found in depth theoretical conversations boring. The soldier then interjected in Albanian, informing Enver of something. I knew barely enough to understand - but I could basically understand what he said. Something about needing to talk to the Sigurimi about something.
Enver and I were alone in the bunker. He started to continue the discussion we were having earlier, talking about people’s war and protracted defense and holding the lowlands and all sorts of things. Once again we were interrupted, but this time not by the soldier. Instead, it was by commotion upstairs. Loud shouts echoed into the bunker, and suddenly the trap door slammed shut. Enver stopped and turned to look at me. There was panic in his eyes. He swung on his heel and dashed to the ladder. Climbing up it, he tried to lift the door. He shouted down to me that it was stuck. Loudly cursing, he banged on the door. “Jemi këtu poshtë! Jemi këtu poshtë! [we’re down here! We’re down here!]” he yelled. No one heard. He jumped down from the ladder, and began pacing the floor. After a few minutes, he stopped. Turning to me with ice in his eyes, he said,
“You did this didn’t you? You orchestrated this all.”
“I didn’t, I swear! What are they saying on the surface? What did you hear?!”
“It was a mistake to fall for your, your, your little scheme. What are you going to do now? Shoot me? Kidnap me? Tell me you little social fascist scum, is this a coup? Who did you pay off?”
“Enver,Post too long. Click here to view the full text.

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Right wingers should be taking estrogen to calm down their toxic white masculinity and deradicalize themselves from the Trump cult. Prove me wrong.
13 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


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I can still groom you eventhough you are obviously over 18 and doing so would be highly legal and not something any law enforcemente agency should be worried about specially because you are not underage(this is a fact btw) which would make it legal and quite moral actually because of your age which is over 18 obvs




Sorry bro I'm here to bully Shay, I gotta cockblock you bro.
no grooming dummy


But don't poor (AKA the most prevalent) sorts of right-wingers actually have lower muscle mass on average in comparison to left-wingers who are also poor (AKA also the most prevalent form of the left)


noooo because uuuhhhh well ypu see uhhh well the truth is that uuuhhh the thing is uuuhhhh well steroids bahd so yeah plastic good eat buz!!1

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So this is the infamous Pol.

I look around and all I see are sad, lonely young "women" that are angry because your parents won't talk to you. Ever pause to wonder why that is?

Even as a white man, I am not the least bit offended, but morbidly dismayed by your lack of self-reflection and basic humility toward yourself and peoplekind. Pathetic, really.
4 posts omitted. Click reply to view.


>Iran was harboring Osama
Stopped reading here.


ok schizo


Isn't that the YWNBAW guy?


I fucked your wife and she begged me not to leave her with you


That sounds like a very likely scenario, if OP even has a wife.

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Mod Alert: This is fake news


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Silver has always been a /biz/ meme, and the redd*tors fell for it.


>moved to /b/
Good. Silver is the genuine trap. It may have been a /biz/ meme and some on r/WSB may have been making googly eyes at it, but the way it was pushed in the middle of GME squeeze makes it very transparent.

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Should only people with good genes have babies?
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part deux


You have names for your shadow people? I just call them glowniggers.


It's just the schizo from this thread
He's drunk or something


>You don't want debate
You mean that you literally run away from debate. >>>/leftypol/68554
If you run away from our arguments there can be no debate.


correct answer, with the addition that the babies themselves need to survive to breeding age
OP is a biolet who needs to study basic evolutionary biology

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The Soviet flag now has a star above the hammer and sickle.

100% sure it wasn't there before.




I remember the entire star being yellow not just the outline of it


>entire star being yellow
That is from the famous photo on the Reichstag which used a handmade flag


I saw this on /x/ pretty crazY

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Ban me
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suck my dick


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haha lok, i hav cool blak stic desine wit wite sirkle and redd flag, u trigered libetard, ban mee :DDDDD


You will never be a man


Your contribution to PPH is noted, comrade. Keep up the good work.

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Let's have a physics thread. Okay?
38 posts and 25 image replies omitted. Click reply to view.


we have our own retard Descartes


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In what way was Descartes retarded? He single handedly discovered analytic geometry and the place of the soul in the brain (pineal gland). What have you achieved lately?


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just because you cannot get down-vooted does not mean you can derail physics thread with irrelevant shitpostings. apply your well horned critical thinking to science and post gifs that refute basis of modern technology if you must


how come that you can't even answer simple questions?
>had to put it behind a glass

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