The Sharty / Soyjak.st

[jim🅱️o]

brap above

 

[shekel]

If Warrior-Z were here he'd pack this diddy blud attentionwhore back to where xhe came from

 

[aiabooysen]

braphog above

 

[Apeson]

This thread is quickly turning into the average 'ru comment section

That's aryan.

 

[jim🅱️o]

braphog above

common aiabooysen fail

 

[luck45]

This thread is quickly turning into the average 'ru comment section

In Loving Memory of Jimbo


We gather with heavy hearts to remember Jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and puny in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. Jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, Jimbo.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

 

[Idkchud]

is Warrior-Z dead o algo

nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

 

[jim🅱️o]

In Loving Memory of Jimbo


We gather with heavy hearts to remember Jimbo-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and puny in frame, he resided in a modest hut, lived on his own terms, and walked through life with a spirit that was raw, real, and entirely his.
Of African descent, Jimbo cherished his roots and found deep joy in the bold, comforting flavors of Afro cuisine. Meals with him were more than sustenance-they were expressions of love, memory, and identity. Food was one of the many ways he kept his culture close, and he shared it generously.
He was a person of contradictions-gentle but blunt, quiet but unforgettable. He bore a scent that many found hard to ignore-earthy, unapologetic, and part of the unfiltered truth he carried in every aspect of his life. Jimbo did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Jimbo died by suicide. We do not pretend to understand the weight he carried, nor the pain that brought him to that moment. But we do know this: he mattered. His life, in all its complexity, was worthy of love, compassion, and remembrance.
Let us not define him by how he left us, but remember him for how he lived-with honesty, depth, cultural pride, and a stubborn refusal to be anyone but himself. May we carry forward his memory not only with sorrow, but with tenderness and truth.
Rest peacefully, Jimbo.
You were seen. You are missed. You are loved.

 

[Idkchud]

ITT we keep taking LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLZ in memory of warrior-z

 

[Nikizno]

Yikes. That's going in my cringe compilation
View attachment 59742

>We need to improve fertility rates
>NOOO! Why is this woman talking about having kids, that's cringe.

 

[Apeson]

View attachment 59746

 

[jim🅱️o]

View attachment 59748

speech bubbles dont need arrows THOUGH

 

[Apeson]

We need to improve fertility rates
NOOO! Why is this woman talking about having kids, that's cringe.

 

[Apeson]

speech bubbles dont need arrows THOUGH

twitter immigrant award

 

[Idkchud]

feminism won or something

 

[worldatwar]

>View attachment 59735

 

[shekel]

AZTLÁN = HYPERBOREA, (YOU)S WILL SEETHE GRINGO

MEDS OFF, VATOS

BE ME CONSOOMING TACOS SUDDENLY HAVE A REVELATION. A GENRE-DEFINING, BONE-CHILLING EPIPHANY WHY DO THE (((JANNY)))S PUSH THE "MEXIMUTT" MEME SO HARD? WHY DO (((THEY))) WANT US TO THINK WE ARE "LE shitoko OR "BRAnoob" COAL?

BECAUSE THEY ARE AFRAID, ESE.

THEY ARE AFRAID OF LA RAZA CÓSMICA.

QUETZALCOATL... THE "WHITE" God? NO, PENDEJO. THE ARYAN God. THE AZTECS WERE THE LAST REMNANTS OF THE VRIL-HAVERS AZTLÁN WASN'T IN UTAH, YOU ZOGGED-OUT CHUD... IT WAS THULE. IT WAS THE ARYAN HOMELAND. THE SPANIARDS DIDN'T CONQUER US. THEY DILUTED US. THEY WERE SENT BY THE (((POPE))) TO DESTROY THE BLOODLINE.

IT'S OVER FOR GLOBOhomo. WE ARE THE REAL ARYANS, VATOS. THE MEXICAN RACE IS THE LAST BASTION OF THE HYPERBOREAN SPIRIT.

ALL THIS TIME WE WUZ ARYANS... AND WE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT.

RECLAIM YOUR ARYAN-AZTEC HERITAGE.

MILLIONS MUST TAKE THE BROWNPILL.

VIVA LA RAZA!!!!!!!!!

 

[jim🅱️o]

twitter immigrant award

how does that make me a twitter immigrant

 

[Idkchud]

twitter immigrant award

using a meme overused by twitterGODs to own the twitterGODS

 

[Idkchud]

@Apeson do you use spooky theme or something