I'm not sure if this has already been done...or if it will even work. But let's see if we can write a story together. Like a game we use to play when we were kids...at least I did anyway.

You can contribute as many times as you want... So long as someone else has taken a turn before you. If you intend for your word to be at the end of a sentence then make sure to use punctuation with your word. Just having a little fun here...and since I'm new, I thought this might be a good way to get to know you, one word at a time haha.

So that we're not starting off with the typical "Once upon a time" type of story...I'll start off with a different word. EDIT: I have decided that each new week we can start contributing an additional word. 1 word for week 1...2 words for week 2 etc. It will probably work best if we all reply... And not quote one another. Just a suggestion.

******THE STORY******

There she goes where time goes. If Kickle yet is saying that he goes poop. Often times, when he snowballs poop down towards my throat I don't sniff it unless I fart at the disco. One Direction is better than nothing anyway.

Everything takes so much effort when ants cover butt except occasionally mothers complicate rendezvous with tapeworms that combust simultaneously REKT, however Walmart restrooms are full of tiny stalls that play music when bowels explode like dynamite.

Organisms will create more mess that overlords will rule to moisten while Skinny prostitutes himself to Gutsman004 for commons and hot ass, also bitches with bedazzled clamshells. This habit secreetes of horrible hotdogs drenched from everlasting gobstoppers.

Nipples exposed online scamming moist towelettes because inside out they feel like sandbags with mayonnaise and tons of good cheese. Now my friends body was covered completely except everyone couldn't release any tension, we eventually denied sex for games for anyone including Hitler which was mean plus he is very moist.

Bert once again blew dra600n sticky mittens then consumed every hand jibber that was available to mankind. Pleasant mother fucker doesn't even enjoy cupcakes unless they are coated with relish and tofu.

Sometimes balls drop like its new and shiny roasted salted cashews. Once they eat them nutz they go completely to their personal anus.

When you you stutter you you want to butter your Dunsparce evenly so it lubricates yourself while you creep behind a meerkat in the nude. When barbecuing people don't ask Dain if tits are what brings members to NA!

Weekly pick games to entice more giraffes to kill Walmart managers with REKT perspectives period.

Sometimes I lick benches entirely if salamander balls fart.

Soup made with crushed dreams is the only soup unless you beat your weiner so vigorously in the dark that seemed to suffocate.

Time will probably stop once the Baba ghanoush runs out.

Tomorrow pickles are so going inside Gutsman004s urethra repeatedly because Toxie needs a big butthole fisting. However, little rabbits stink when used inappropriately by Toxie.

Uncle Sam slept on my butt plug now Canada ended importing butt cream for Toxie because I don't need help lubricating his poutine burger. Furthermore, pulsating crap was exploding inside his pants, it destroyed everything except his parrot.

Why does the tuba cross the orchestra? To play with breasts that sag. Also, these two testicles are fluffy and hairy with some patches, ergo he misplaced his weed, luckily balls suffice.

Bert loves anchovies deep down.

Effervescence inside bologna can prove painfully sustainable when taken intravenously at a delicatessen.

Necrophiliacs ride Cadillacs because Pontiac's are made almanacs, alas they wasn't able to jump over Trump's tiny ego, however his hair was extracted perfectly by extraterrestrials who jerk people's chicken.

Farts taste awful despite smelling poopy pants. inevitably, callipygian girls get lots of mouthfuls when of course, they don't get how the taste differs from other tastes because their tastebuds suck at recognizing tastes.

Treacherous titties tickle fickle pickles passionately if you would just lick an anus.

Some copies coffee crisp was too strong for anyone but if it made you squirt out uncontrollably while being punched in the vagina repeatedly.

Whence shmence hence pence fish.

Conversely, I always snuggle with prostitutes whenever Obama's wife sucks toes passionately before snuggling and necking with cousin It. Whereas, Farrah's pogostick doesn't fit in her garage. She did however not vote for Trump, Farah voted garages with automatic pizzas and waffles.

Chinese jujubes taste oddly salty, similar to Redneck's earwax.

Dammit to all Minnesota, please forgive my extremely graphic language because I enjoy the ignorance.

Often when I apologize because I am eating French toast.

Salty garages reminds me of Redneck's big badonkadonk lube bucket that services old shafts and knobs.

Some say thick thighs help with pushing cushioning whenever you grease up the sweaty banana sausage with your pickle juice concentrate.

Feverishly tenderizing your the plump porpoises discoloured appendage I realized a familiarity in my friend's dog's eye sleepies.

Japanese albinos like to drink Russian vodka with their infected orifices around the homeless children bastardized by Alex Jones.

Continually shriveling salted slug's uncircumcised remains eaten daily increase girth in the sphincter muscle because they spurt uncontrollably against my Pokemon backpack during the French revolution.

I still remember when my nuts were smooth and sexy hairlessly beautiful, my balls.

Yours however are so offputtingly saggy that they drag along the payment, inducing vomiting because of revolting aesthetics. I like to sniff my own apple pie on the dirty floor of a Motel 6 bathroom. Coincidentally my bathroom smells like it has crusty underwear filling the dirty stains from years of loneliness which could make it cracked and spontaneously combust.

Feral fetuses consume more hibilly sperm than Aunt Michelle Obama on cocaine and bathsalts.

Relieving regurgitations while playing skin flutes and slurping betwixt cavities gracefully conjuring Bill Nye.

I wonder if Batman goes to the doctor everytime Robin loses his load in Catwoman's laundry, even if she said her warts are gone, she's lying!

Mario went deep inside Daisie's clamshell purse to deposit change into the bank that renovates garages for elderly German prostitutes.

Remarkably, they can jump underground and kick every time that their pantyhose comes off. This phenomenon happens once the moon aligns with menstrual cycles and moist sponges are dried out but only when you lick snails during inseminations at Walmart. Other such phenomenon are just as Steel Panther, like lmfao, creates lyrics so barfy they make babies explode with giggles.

Tomorrow we are going to Mars Bars Headquarters, I plan on bringing the best damn weed in Colorado.

Penis size is irrelevant to uninformed Girl Scouts masturbating publicly, heavily intoxicated after a bar fight.

Commander Riker flatulates violently while preparing Picard's enema in order of biggest to shittiest.

Most politicians are unknowingly disguised aliens enslaved by goat hoarders native to underground utopias where they slaughter baby piglets that are tasty with mustard.

At times when Frodo slapped Sam with his smelly, ugly, absolutely disgusting hobbit feet, and then stuck his big toe up his big obnoxious hairy nose, I think his ass is fluffy and contains many tattoos of his brothers daughters massive tits.

Doing hula completely naked in front of older topples nuns warps you off to a Galaxy in my universe of NES shit along with Toxie's cock ring collection.

Birds chirp while dog's ride skateboards around obstacles that are thrown at the ground.

Special snowflakes sing while turning yellow because dog's pee on their little snowy faces. Snowballs shoved in ear holes suddenly, Toxie violently sharts yellow marshmallows into Murray's back seat that has big dirty poop stains streaking everywhere and also Toxie and Skinnygrinny sucked at basketball and sucked at golf and sucked at hockey and eachothers fire extinguishers.

Every Tuesday and Thursday I usually smoke a Kush blunt with a friend's Mom, family style. That would invite ALTQQ inside a dark, strange and damp car dealership.

Everyone on my surfboard gets REKT when they cautiously, carelessly stomp turtles on the same day people go on the other side of the Trump Tower where Elvis swallowed a banana sandwich as he whistled from his butt.

Why did that melody crescendo into such a horrid farting mess of absolute horror with random squirts of neon paint spraying from the microphone while the DJ ripped his pants off Toxie's massage table inside a 70s Cadillac that was missing everything!

Snowglobes inside my minds eye cracked when I squeeze miracle hwip, cool hwip isn't as miracle as the trolls semantics. Therefore Donald Trump's mouth will finally shut for once.

As crack babies, One Direction smoke crack often, They must think happy thoughts, otherwise they will become crippling paranoid of dinosaurs and waffles.

Sometimes when I fly off da erf wit da coolest of da coo I'll start touching my Dad's catheter that is tasty but a bit nutty like Joel's fidget spinners he inserts rectally daily along with baby hamsters.

It is quite apparent that sugar causes impotence along with severe leakage in the sphincter muscle. Despite this people will totally jizz their pants watching paint dry and smoking crack while diddling and fiddling and scribbling and dribbling and nibbling and wiggling their weiner.

For Hanukkah, Mr.Goldstein ate some kosher salt and get and orangutans and noodles and foreskin with a handful of gefiltefisch Pikachu Edition. however,Rabbi enjoys lactating on money from hoes perfectly placed in a butt crack made of lime Jello and some rum plus a bunch of herbal remedies from my shed that I made from tiny bits of different shapes of mouse tits which are saggy bags of piss hanging from hanging from my nuts, which weighs two ounces more than a complete set of Wisdom Tree video games.

I burnt Deadly Towers and Hylide because they suck major sour candies that expired back in ancient times when men drew cave hentai they used for explaining how to insert coins in, deep into a mechanical dinosaur that attacks when anime girls blush after they toot themselves. Some cave drawings of a shitload make projectile vomiting look super kawaii, Even when their Sendai noticed me.

The texture of my rock hard and super long frightened sea cucumber is not very attentive to the small fish that is lying around while loudly farting the Bonanza theme.

Now it's time to say goodbye to my pet orangutan, she went to the circus, the shopping mall, and nudie bar.

She was a heavy duty judy, big ol booty with contagious cooties and sends nudies and gets moody singing fruity tootie about her booty.

The morning sun feels nice on my already sunburnt butt cheeks and my speedo is way too tight.

Some people at the hip new burger place ate until they all threw up from bloody meat with tapeworm infestation and snozzberry juice gushing everywhere. Eventually customers were given stomach pumps and everlasting gobstoppers as a distraction from the toilet massacre. It must've worked, because shortly afterward they all simultaneously did a jumping cannonball into a vat of rotten pig carcasses, which I threw up after seeing my eyeballs go crossed eyed. So I left, never to return.

My huge penis is much bigger than a gyromite just spontaneously combusted due to pressure from a tight cube made of ever so slightly used tin foil in kitty litter for some reason.

Because of Cthulhu I filled my face with lots of coleslaw and corn with a little side of jalapeño poppers and sour cream. It was an odd reason to eat but it had to be done, regardless what others use to masturbate to when they seem to attempt, when hate fucking just isn't enough.

It's time for all of us to come together for an orgy so NA can party with special guests eating cheese puffs out of someones ear holes while snorting wasabi and blue cheese crumbles in a room with cheap veneer and loose hookers selling renovated garages on the side.

Wonderfully displayed coconuts play Zombie Nation and ate kiwis while legitimate cannibals ate penis kabobs, drank bleach and rub mayonnaise all over their vegan victims.

The other day we were going straight to hell for reasons unknown.

Blowing dirty cartridges and licking connectors while sticking dirty NES Advantage controllers in our butts, the wide way. After our buttholes had fully recovered we promised to never try something without lube again, or at least a little guacamole because without some lubrication, the friction can severely damage the NES advantage.

Inside your grandma's dementia stricken mind are thoughts of joy and happiness.

One time I went to play my NES, and ducks jumped out the window of a passing automobile.

Sloppy O rings that are freshly greased and ready can suffice temporarily as Dreamcast repos sold on NA.

Never put a mediocre salted cracker into your soup, unless it's stale or soaked in distilled alpaca's urine covered in hair.

Most people say when it rains, cows lay down in Popeye's restaurant because the soup has a fly, that when observed with one eye, appears to be an Atari cartridge made by Vectrex28.

It's Friday, Mom's love young meat fresh from the land of the elementary school kids.

Strangely lathering sensations are quite common among crusty epidermis shaped lingerie. But what is rare is the lingering stench from sphincter ripping.

Fuck that side of beans I ate at the truck stop off the bathroom floor, I knew it was gonna taste spicy, but I wasn't prepared for what would happen next. The beans gave me massive bowel movements and a ten year relationship with bad allergies that got me hooked on masturbating while I watch paint dry outside of my newly renovated garage that holds all of the monkeys, tarantulas, dolphins and the skins of lions, tigers and bears which will make you wish you were aborted.

Like frozen airplane pee, hail fell from the 42nd floor of the famous ice machine from the 2097 Olympics that's made from old soda cans and lots of stale and hairy old fashioned glazed donuts. Not to mention some Canadian maple bacon strips, thrown in there for the hell of it, to add to the succulent, moist, palpable texture on my Zelda Game & watch that is cracked and smells like dead fish because of storing it in an ancient vagina. The ancient vagina oozed a dead-fish smelling, delectably spreadable, jammy delicacy, that I spread on burnt toast with some fava beans and chianti and pencil shavings with bits if cauliflower and dried beef carcasses plus a side of coleslaw all smothered with cheese.

Now that I'm hungry I'll eat edamamme beans, wasabi peas and some leftovers from last week from that fancy burger garbage can and floor tastefully drenched in piss, while I smother myself with a garbage bag. I try my best but I escaped anyway, only to fall victim to Kathy Lee Gifford and a chihuahua named Pequeño diablo, who had horns and red eyes and who's bark sounded like a bear choking on coleslaw and fried chicken with ball bearings firing out if its butthole with deadly accuracy. Creatively inspired friendly attacks with the force of a thousand blazing suns, and it was so destructive, he never recovered.

GREAT, late again, because I jizzed my pants over some very hot piece of ass that was bending over makin dat ass clap, so I watched and drooled as I fumbled with my pants then I no-hand nutted. It lasted for hours until I became exhausted and thought I was a glazed donut from the head down to my toes.

It was then, it happened. I realized I must explain the whole entire story of pumpkins, muffins and Kodiak marmoset attacks and little crinkly wax paper.

Someone once told me, I should be afraid of people who don't point their erections up but instead, straight down the smelly poopy toilet full of hot chowder and some grape Jello topped with curly pubes.

It's been so long since my amazing Tater carts were worth anything, that I shipped them in exchange for a burning sack of shit that I left on laying on my lap while excreting seminal fluid onto a McDonald's cheeseburger.

For Christmas I got an inflatable sheep. I jumped on it, sliding off the roof and landed right on the neighbourhood octopus and it exploded with ink, ruining my party dress and killing the octopus.

Back when I was little, I used to play with imaginary friends that would always steal my real friends and tell me nobody liked me

There

She

Goes

where

time

goes.

If

Kickle

Yet

is

Saying

that

he

goes

Poop.

Often

times,

When

he

snowballs

Poop,

down

Towards

my