Soyjak blog

[modderola]

What was the last post? I wanna see the final words

I don't know, i was about to post when i had to forcefully refresh and the polish shit popped up

 

[coff33 adict]

Jassy

>Moon is related to brapjyos/is brapjyos xhimself

 

[modderola]

Nvm

 

[BURN NIGGERS RAPE ALL NIG]

dead fucking noob of a site

 

[ATWA ya dig?]

I talked with Jackson and he decided to finally shut it all down. It's finally over

WHAT THE FUCK? GEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEG
Kind of embarrassing how excited I am over this

 

[Barry]

In Loving Memory of Schlogcuck

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Schlogcuck-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby 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, Schlogcuck 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. Schlogcuck did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Schlogcuck 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.

 

[coff33 adict]

View attachment 41669
In Loving Memory of Schlogcuck

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Schlogcuck-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby 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, Schlogcuck 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. Schlogcuck did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Schlogcuck 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.

Don't forget your roots, shrooty shroot

 

[modderola]

Asxsqxqsxq

obsessed

^ gay noob alt moooddddssss

 

[Barry]

Don't forget your roots, shrooty shroot

Ev&oe it's a funny booru 'pasta

 

[Foggurt]

View attachment 41669
In Loving Memory of Schlogcuck

We gather with heavy hearts to remember Schlogcuck-a man who lived simply but left a lasting mark on those who truly saw him. Short in stature and chubby 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, Schlogcuck 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. Schlogcuck did not pretend. He was who he was.
Tragically, Schlogcuck 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.

Funny enough predditor made that 'pasta

 

[ATWA ya dig?]

Yeah actually even with the ip (209.141.37.250) you can't even connect because it needs to be with the domain name. It's literally down for everyone but you

Shlogfails can't even kill their site properly...

 

[worldatwar]

I talked with Jackson and he decided to finally shut it all down. It's finally over

 

[modderola]

obsessed

No U obsessed

 

[Onzikin]

I didn't bother archiving all posts I wanted, but oh well. It's over.

 

[ATWA ya dig?]

My name is MoonMetropolis and I lost my homies
The 'cord went down so now no one knows me

 

[modderola]

obsessed

Ur obsessed x ∞

 

[Barry]

Funny enough predditor made that 'pasta

Fucking ruined

 

[ATWA ya dig?]

I didn't bother archiving all posts I wanted, but oh well. It's over.

I'm glad all my shit is gone. I'd have deleted the account but I figured moon wouldn't do it anyway

 

[modderola]

obsessed either way

proving me right

 

[korg]

rest in piss schlog