You guys like to get high, right? I mean, everyone knows that smoking weed is cool as hell, but those dank nugs reek, and then you gotta worry about your nerdy roommate NARCing on you to your RA again. Well, here's your chance to get way high, completely legally, and without that dillweed Greg even knowing. It's I-Doser! Sounds that get you high! Or something!
Just to clarify - I'm not going to pay to listen to trance songs that are supposed to give me boners, so I'm just going to draw everyone's attention to the "free entertainment" section of the Web site - the experience reports. It is what it says it is - gullible people buy musical placebos, and then write about how the sounds did something vaguely like what they were said to do. My favorites are people who are willing to spend money on sounds with the intention of achieving hands-free orgasms, but who cannot describe their genitals using terms more specific than "down there."
While there are people on the board who I'm sure do plenty of drugs, it seems like most of these I-Dosers are people who are trying to have "fun" without any sort of risk. Which is reasonable, I guess. But I've begun to notice that these peoples' definitions of fun differ a lot from mine. Like "nicole:"
I really didnt think this would work. I was shocked at how it made me feel. I didnt really feel any thing during , but afterwards i got lite headed, blurred vision, and stumbled lol. I am still having pro seing clearly . I loved it. about to try out of body so if any thing happens on it for me I will let yall know
I'll admit, I'm not the biggest risk-taker in the world, but if I did something somewhat innocuous and then had serious trouble realigning a major sense, I don't know if I'd be eager to do it again. But what do I know? I've never I-Dosed. I'm an I-Virgin, which is ok with me, because I can't imagine that any of these people (especially those trying "orgasm" with a certain amount of zeal) aren't actual virgins. I think I'll stick with the demographic I'm in right now, thanks.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
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