Welcome to The Hub. This is our welcoming tribe dedicated to introducing yourself, meeting new people, and learning about new tribes.
Searching '+magashiv +Shrek'...
Note: TRP.RED Search supports the + and - operators to refine your search. Add +term to require that term. Use -term to exclude that term.
I was 53 years old. I'd been a fan of Shrek ever since the first movie came out in 2001, though I may have been somewhat older than the target audience.
My wife of 33 years hated my devotion to Shrek. In hindsight, I can kind of see why. She'd ask why I liked Shrek so much, to which I could only reply:
Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
One day, she had enough and dropped a nuclear shit test upon my masculine alpha-wolf sigma-frame:
Shrek is for children, and you're a baby. You're also a giant faggot.
I seethed in my masculine anger and manly aggression, but held oak-Skittles-Man-frame.
fuck you, you stupid bitchy cunt! I hope you and your mother die in a fiery car crash!
...I replied, calmly and rationally.
Then, she insulted me with the worst insult imaginable:
You don't go well.
As masculine manly tears welled up in my eyes whilst my iron heart was torn asunder, the advice of our marriage counselor echoed within my perfectly calm and rational alphasigma brain:
share your feelings. don't be afraid to be vulnerable.
I dropped to my knees, sobbing.
honey, when you say such things, you harm me to the very quick of my masculine soul!
To which she hypergamously shit tested:
You don't go well, at all. You're a giant baby who's obsessed with a baby movie franchise. And Shrek is retarded.
As I sobbed my manly tears of seething vexation, through the snot i suddenly smelled onions. A familiar voice came through the wall:
I think you need to leave, you awful bitch.
It was Shrek!
The wall bust in, Kool-Ade Man style, and there in is ogre glory he stood, his eshrekt penis glistening in the light.
WHAT. THE. FUUUUUUUUUCK?!
...my wife screamed.
She ran out of the house, jumped in the car, and burned on out of the driveway.
The massive ogre turned his attention to me. I was already on my knees, and I wanted to please the ogrelord.
I presented myself to him like a female red-assed baboon in heat.
As he entered me and began thrusting, I passed out from the pain.
I woke up in the ICU. As my ultrasigma mind recalled the events that led me there, tears of joy streamed down my face. They smelled vaguely of swamp gas and onion juice.
Shrek is love.
Shrek is life.
Read More@Durek_The_Bald speaking of artwork and paintings...
I was 28 years old. I had always aspired to be an artist in the tradition of Van Gogh, Monet, or Jim Davis.
I also became obsessed with Shrek, from the first time I saw the first flick through all the sequels.
Below is my painting of Shrek I took to enter in the MET Gala art contest.
As I walked the mean skreetz of NYC, I was accosted by some Mafiosos.
'ey Ton', get a load of Shrek fanboy ova heah! His painting sucks! Looks like a retard painted a giant booga, and gave it ahms and legs!
I was very intimidated, and tried to avoid them. I accidentally turned down a dead end alley.
yo Paulie, we got him cornered now. 'Ey kid, your painting really does suck. What's that next to him? Did Shrek just finish taking a giant dump on the ground?
I was shaking with fear at this point, but I could smell onions. If only...
"Shrek... Where are you?" I cried out.
The mobsters roared with laughter.
If Shrek met us, he'd sleep when the fishies.
A large shape loomed behind them. Was it?
as a matter of fact, I did take a giant dump on the ground. What are you going to do about it?
The mobsters knew it was all ogre for them. There was no Shrekscaping.
The ogrelord smashed all 4 of them into a trash can, which he threw over the roof of a nearby building.
"How can I ever thank you, Shrek?" I beseeched of him.
you can take some fucking art classes. Your painting sucks.
Oh no! I had displeased the ogrelord. I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face.
you can also turn around and arch your back.
His powerful ogre hands gripped my waist and put me in position, his eshrekt member penetrating my until-then virginal butthole. I screamed in both agony and pleasure, as he began thrusting with great vigor. He let out a mighty ogre roar as he blasted his ogresized load, launching me head-first into a brick wall.
I woke up 2 weeks later, in hospital. My painting had a ribbon hanging on it which said "last place".
Shrek is love.
Shrek is LIFE.
Read More@Durek_The_Bald I was 23 years old, and had recently escaped from the Rainbows and Sunshine Home for the Mentally Disabled. I made my way to a local public library with free internet access, and stumbled across the dot reds.
"What a great place to unleash some of my inane blather," I thought to myself, "some of these guys seem kind of crazy, so maybe I'll finally find acceptance."
I named myself @TryingToReform in an attempt to show I was willing to make an effort.
But instead of acceptance, I received ridicule and mockery!
Why, this might even have been #CyberBullying!
I cried out to the one being who had always given me unconditional love.
"Shrek! I need your help!"
The other library patrons nearby looked at me like I was insane (and maybe I am).
But then, I felt a warmth enveloping me as the scent of onions filled my nostrils. It was Shrek! And he was embracing me from behind on the library stool!
He whispered in my ear "fuck those guys. You don't need them. Just flounce your way out of there like so many who have gone before you."
As I pondered his words, my desire to prove my online alpha cred to internet strangers overruled his rational advice. I furiously typed and posted:
fuck you faggots! I'll beat all your asses! Just tell me where you live!
"I'll show those assholes, Shrek! I'll show them all!" I shrieked at the ogre.
The other library patrons had been pointedly ignoring me since my last outburst, but this got their attention again, and they noticed Shrek's presence.
They started to flee.
"Aw, look what ye did, laddie. Now we'll have to make this a quickie," Shrek replied as he placed me on my hands and knees.
He stuffed his ogresized eshrektion into my eager butthole and began thrusting with great vigor. I knew I had let him down and wanted to make it up to him, so I flexed my rectal sphincters just like the other inmates patients had taught me.
Shrek let out a mighty roar as he filled me with his fuck chowder.
He left me laying in a heap as the orderlies from the Rainbows and Sunshine Home for the Mentally Disabled arrived with a strait jacket, sedatives, and a stretcher to take me back. I didn't mind at this point, as Shrek's love and acceptance was enough.
Shrek is love.
Shrek is LIFE.
Read MoreI was 64 years old, and on trial for the murder of a close friend. I couldn't believe I'd ended up here after my illustrious career of producing such musical acts as The Beatles, Ike and Tina Turner, the Ronnettes, and The Ramones. How can they believe I did such a thing?
I was in dire straits (no, not the band), and desperate. I cried out to every deity I could think of, but the trial and my getting railroaded continued. There was one left I hadn't tried.
Shrek... I need your help...
Oh shit, was that out loud? Apparently it was, because my attorney jammed his elbow into my ribs as the judge glared at me and shushed me.
Suddenly, just like the Kool-Aid Man, a large shape burst into the courtroom through the wall.
It was Shrek!
my help comes with a price, old man.
...the huge ogre said to me, placing me on my hands and knees on top of the table I'd been sitting at.
order! I will have order in my courtroom!
...the judge bellowed, banging his gavel. Shrek replied:
here's the order: this old geezer is first, then you'll be second. Everyone else who wants some ogre-cock can just get in line.
He started ramming my ass, his ogresized eshrektion ripping right through my pants and my Depends undergarments and making my hemorrhoids bleed.
ach, natural lube is just the best!
...Shrek celebrated.
The bailiffs had been standing in silent shock, but one of them snapped out of it and approached with his knight stick drawn. He hit Shrek in the back of the head, and Shrek grabbed him by the arm and threw him into one of the undamaged walls, killing him.
The other bailiff drew his gun, but Shrek was faster with his trusty onionzooka. The bailiff burned to ashes as the smell of frying onions filled the courtroom.
Everyone else fled through the hole in the wall, as Shrek let out a mighty roar and filled my butt with his love.
I woke up in prison. Was the whole thing a dream? A hallucination?
No. My ass was sore, and there was a note to me sitting on the bunk.
You were supposed to leave through the hole in the wall, but you passed out. Better luck next time!
-S
That son of a bitch!
I still felt a sense of peace and contentment I hadn't felt since I introduced Jon to Yoko.
#ShrekIsLove #ShrekIsLife
Read More@Vermillion-Rx I was just finishing my freshman year at state university. I stumbled across Jonathan Swift's "A Modest Proposal" and decided I'd like some light reading not related to my exams. I was reading it as I waited for one of the university's busses one day.
It was such well-done satire, that I was taken in.
how can this asshole actually advocate for eating babies?!
...I screamed loudly at passers-by and fellow bus-awaiters, who all looked at me as if I were insane. Qq
Shrek would put a stop to this!
...I yelled even louder, as the smell of onions filled my nostrils.
ey, laddie, the book is a joke. It's social commentary.
...came a familiar voice. It was Shrek!
it is? But it's so convincing!
...I replied. He put one of his ogresized hands on my shoulder and started leading me on a walk away from the bus stop, and towards the botanical gardens.
the best satire frequently is. You'll learn to spot it as you become more well-read and more experienced.
speaking of experience, have you ever been penetrated by an ogre?
Holy shit! The legends were real! I was so nervous, I just laughed. He continued whispering in my ear:
welcome to Pound Town, population: you.
He placed me on my hands and knees, and ripped my pants off. As he entered me, I pushed back and squeezed my sphincter. I wanted to make Shrek remember me.
After a few minutes of his thrusting and my sphincter-squeezing, Shrek let out a roar as he launched his fuck-chowder from his massive yogurt cannon, filling my virginal fartbox.
I woke up a few hours later, alone in the botanical gardens, pants still around my ankles. A note had been carved into a nearby tree:
thanks for a wonderful afternoon, laddie. I'll never forget you.
-S
I was overjoyed.
Shrek is love.
Shrek is life.
Read MoreI was 18 years old and trying to find a nursing home so I could wait to die in peace, since I was now so old and my glory days were behind me.
I was taking a tour of one assisted living facility, and I told the orderly showing me around that it certainly looked like a Shrektastic facility. He replied:
It certainly is quite Charming, isn't it?
Oh no. That orderly was Prince Charming this whole time.
I rushed him in an attempt to stuff an onion in his throat, but being an ancient and feeble geezer of 18 years, I was essentially manhandled.
it's all ogre now.
He said, as he prepared to drown me in a urine-filled bedpan.
did somebody say "ogre"?!
...a familiar voice boomed in. It was Shrek! And he was coming to rescue me!
Shrek snatched up the bedpan and dumped its contents on Prince Charming.
my hair! NOOOOOOO!
...bellowed the nobleman. While his mouth was agape with the scream, Shrek shoved an onion grenade into his mouth, and threw him out the window.
BOOM!
Bits of onion and human flesh rained down on everyone, with terrified screams filling the air.
I was already down on my hands and knees, so I knew how to thank the ogrelord. I pointed my ass at him. Delighted, he went to town.
His ogresized eshrektion penetrated my geriatric asshole. It hurts, but I do it for Shrek.
He lets out a mighty ogre roar as he fills me with his musky onion juice, the blast launching me across the room. Luckily, I land on a bed. Shrek makes sure I'm ok, then leaves through the window.
I lay there with my sore anus, pondering how a mighty ogre like Shrek would want me when I was so far past my prime at 18 years old. As I dozed off, I wondered if any nursing home would measure up at all.
#ShrekIsLove #ShrekIsLife
Read MoreIn a shocking turn of events, Typo-MAGAshiv, a quirky yet innovative company in the mysterious realm of doodle technology
Not doodles. Paintings.
These events occurred when I entered a painting of Shrek in the MET Gala Art Contest.
Shrek is love.
Shrek is LIFE.
@theCHAD next you'll tell me that Shrek was a fictional character.
Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
There's been this weird influx of badly written AI posts obsessed with bullies and bullying on the forums recently (www.forums.red/p/theredpill/320198/is_it_true_that_females_hate_weak_men_far_more_than_male_bul, example two). I'm going to start copying and pasting the following reply:
If you're being bullied, just call out to Shrek.