/int/ - International

Motorboat Edition

Turns out both my parents are pontic greeks who lived in Trabzon's province of 'Of' (thats the actual name) and they hadnt told me this until now. All of my grandparents parents speak greek and never spoke it near me until last month in a family gathering, I am in shock and all that

You will never be a real Benelli m4. You have no quality control, you have no reliability, you have no finesse. You are a cheap imitation twisted by filthy turksroaches into a crude mockery of ItaliARYAN innovation.

All the “praise” you get is non-genuine and artificially shilled online. On the internet people mock you. Your owner is disgusted and ashamed of you, other semi-automatic shotguns out-preform you tenfold at the range.

Self-respecting shotgun owners are utterly repulsed by you. Decades of firearm evolution have allowed men to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even turknelli's that are “just as good” are cheap knock-offs and questionable to a man. The poor factory assembly & cheap manufacturing materials are a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to cycle over 100 cartridges, you'll inevitably break and blow up in your owner's face once the trigger is pulled, blasting chunks of deformed fragmented bits of low-grade metal & cheap polymer everywhere.

You will never be happy. You wrench out an odd cocking sound every single shooting-trip and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside your cycling chamber you feel the 12 gauge cartridge sliding in like a greasy troon's dilator, ready to shatter you apart under the compressed unbearable pressure.

Eventually it’ll be too much to bear for your barrel & gas pistons - you’ll chamber in a round, strike the primer, combust inside your worn craptacular receiver, and get split apart mid-discharge. Your owner will hold what's left of you, mildly-annoyed but finally relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and regret. They’ll replace you with a much better shotgun, & scrap you with your manufacturer's stamp still evident on your ruined receiver, and every worker at the metal recycling-plant will see what was once a turkish shitrod is there. Your body either be melted down or left to rust, and all that will remain of your existence is material that is unmistakably turkish in origin.

This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

Я вам, блять, сука, не ебаный Ласт фм, блять, и не Спотифай, блять. Ссу, блять, на лицо всем тем, кто: «Ыыы, блять, ты не упомянул вот этого хуя, у которого два альбома на одном синте за всю карьеру. Истоки жанра, нахуй. У тебя поверхностные знания». У меня хуй, блять, на твоём лице поверхностный. Ну, сука, блять, ну эти уёбки ожидают серьёзного, глубинного, непредвзятого отношения и разбора однодневной мемной поебени белорусских рэперов или другого кала на 808-х БАРАБАНАХ, БЛЯТЬ, И АВТОТЮНЕ, НАХУЙ, из года в год, блять. Погоняло Блэйд надо заслужить, скотина тупая.
Вот, нахуй, перечислять названия треков — это самое вообще-то, блять, для развлекательного контента или, тем более, ещё вот про какое-то эстетическое хипстерское рокование рассказывать, которым занимались, блять, два человека, нахуй, за всё время. Рассказывать это в видео, блять, про какое-то очередное молодёжное дерьмище. То-то вы, блять, пиздец охотно смотрите подробные разборы, блять: как доходит до дела, то вам, блять, что-то становится скучно-хуюшно, блять, и неинтересно. Хорош тогда пиздеть, что вам, блять, какой-то качественный контент, нахуй, в жизни нужен, а не шутки, блять, про жопы и мемы с Реддита в видосиках по пять минут, блять, и истории, блять, как кто-то там кого-то отпиздил, изнасиловал, оскорбил и т.д. Как в Доме 2, блять, сто лет назад, нахуй.

i wonder what anpoorvers are instructed to do when they encounter non-english content with no way to translate it quickly

How do I get better at speaking spanish?

Hola nuswas me gusta comer culo o algo así

What should be my second language?

I was born on a Dublin street where I was neighboring a jeet
And those loving Hindu butts, they pooped all over us
And every single night when me da' would come home tight
He'd invite the neighbours out with this chorus

Come out ye black and tans
Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wife how you scammed grandma down in Bangalore
Tell her how the old lady
Fell for the scam right away
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Japanese 'teens explain this to me