@Durek_The_Bald

#OwnYourPooWeekly

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.

@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.

@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.

@Lone_Ranger

An 'IG model' is a whore

I was 37 years old, and trying to cheat on my wife with an IG model.

This was at the worst part of our dead bedroom period, and this IG chick was very responsive to all of my comments.

One thing I noticed, though: just like my wife, this chick was jealous of my devotion to Shrek.

One day, she gave me a public nuclear shit-test by posting a pic on herself sticking her ass out towards the camera, and captioned her photo:

you can only pick one;

me, or Shrek?!

I knew in my alphasigmawolfheart that I had to overcome this barrage against my masculine oakframe.

I replied to her shitty shit-test of a shitpost:

Shrek is love. Shrek is LIFE.

Suddenly, my replies were filled with a bunch of white knight gammasimps, all essentially saying the same thing:

leave her alone!

and

How dare you pick Shrek over the pretty lady! What's wrong with you!

and

lol found the incel

I seethed in my stoic alphaftame as I sigma'd my oakness.

Suddenly, a warmth was beside me.

it was Shrek!

'ey, laddie, let's show this bitch and all her simps a thing or two!

He set up my webcam, and then using his strong ogre hands, placed me on my hands and knees.

I arched my back.

I was ready.

He penetrated my butthole with his massive eshrektion. I yelled out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, as the ogrelord said to the camera:

ogresex can't be beat, bitch! Take your filters and shove 'em up your cunt!

My inbox flooded with notifications. He was livestreaming what I had thought was an intimate moment!

Shrek! How could you!

I beseeched of him.

He answered with a mighty roar, filling my rectum with his fuck chowder.

The blast launched me across the room, as he swung his massive eshrektion all about like a firehose, coating me, my bed, and my walls with ogre jizz.

He cut the stream off, and said

ye'll feel better tomorrow, laddie

...as he tossed some money onto my nightstand.

I lay there covered in his onion-scented love juice, pondering how my life reached this point, how I allowed myself to be so used and discarded, how I could recover with my IG model prospect, and how I could clean up the mess before my wife got home.

Shrek is love.

Shrek is LIFE.

@Kevin

I 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

@deeplydisturbed

care to explain?

I was 33 years old. I was on my way to a costume party (sans wife!), and thought I might surprise everyone with my kickass Shrek costume.

However, I did a bit too much pre-partying. I got pulled over for suspected DUI. One of the officers asked me:

why on earth are you dressed like that? What are you supposed to be, some kind of orc?

To which I replied:

Shrek is love. Shrek is LIFE.

He had me take a seat on the sidewalk, which is when someone snapped that photo.

Shrek wouldn't be in favor of driving drunk

...the officer scolded.

Suddenly, the familiar scent of onions filled my nostrils.

eey, lads, what was that about drinking and partying?!

It was Shrek! And he had a case of onion beer!

The officers were just as stunned as I was, but accepted his offer of onion beer. We all popped the tops and chugged.

Soon, an even better party than the one I was originally heading to emerged, right there on the street corner.

Everyone went home with a belly full of onion beer and a rectum full of ogre-jizz.

Shrek is love.

Shrek is LIFE.

@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.

@Goingthedistance

I 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

@bornana

Share your personal anecdotes of soy boys guarding women from men the women are clearly attracted to.

I was 27 years old. I made eye contact with this 7.5/10 QT3.14, and when she returned my gaze with a wicked little smile and adjusted her hair, I knew it was on like Donkey Kong.

I went right into my surefire method, nailing each step in the sequence because I'm just so alphawolfsigmahawk. Just as I began to hand her the onion, I heard this effeminate voice call out:

leave her alone, you misogynistic, Shrekfan fuckboy! She isn't interested!

A group of white knight soyboys had come up behind me as I was working my magic. I responded:

there are layers to this situation, just like with this onion, and the four of you are just envious of my layers.

The one who had spoken first took a sip of his soy Chai latte, and replied:

onions are a symbol of patriarchal oppression, you cishet fascist incel fuckboy.

Normally I'd have been a bit leery of going up against 4 other dudes, but these soyboys were skinny-fat weaklings. I figured I'd intimidate my way out of this.

do you little wimps even lift, bro?

Appalled, they replied in unison:

only fascist Trump supporters lift weights, you right wing racist.

I laughed and retorted with:

racist? That word has no power, especially when all of us are white and no one even mentioned race before now. I was going to give this onion to a special lady, but I think you need it more.

WHAM!

I shoved the onion into the leader's mouth.

The other three pulled out various weapons, from a sock full of pennies, to a chain with a bike lock, and a grocery bag with a can of soup.

Pantifa faggots! I should have known! Oh Shrek, where are you?

I called out.

The soyboys burst out laughing (except for the first one, who was still trying to get the onion out of his throat and mouth).

Shrek is symbolic of patriarchal oppression, and isn't even real!

They replied.

I don't know if they were distracted by the laughter, or if the smell of the onion I'd shoved in their leader's throat masked the new odor of more onions wafting our way.

ey, laddie, better even those odds!

It was Shrek! And he had his trusty onionzooka!

He didn't even need to use it; the soyboys all turned and ran.

well, laddie, aren't ye going to finish making her into your tradwife?

He asked me.

Before I could reply, the QT3.14 interjected:

I choose Shrek!

...as she leapt into his massive arms.

mogged! better luck next time, laddie!

Though i didn't get laid that night, I was still grateful for the assistance.

Shrek is love.

Shrek is LIFE.