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The Actual Charlton Heston
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BEHOLD, BEEF PLATE. COWER BEFORE THE GRANDEUR OF BEEF PLATE. BEEF PLATE DEMANDS YOUR OBEISANCE. BEEF PLATE IS ALL: THE ALPHA, AND THE OMEGA; THE BEGINNING, AND THE END. HEED THE HOWL OF BEEF PLATE, AND IT MAY YET DEIGN TO SPARE YOU AND YOUR FRAIL KIN.


 
 
 
 

Greatest dual Ross find of all time; went in for briefs, found these. Hard to tell from photo, but they’re 3D, and that makes me moist. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to decorate my place with more shit that ensures I’ll never get my dick wet again


 
 
 

This one goes out to Soulbow; my rock, and my muse. Daily Bump until Soulbow swoops in and acknowledges my loving tribute to him (Day 4, you puling Canadian chode), now with added Soulbait™:



 
 
 
 

Motherfuckin' hamsböygürs, y'all. I've been a dirty, dirty boy, and it's about to get beefy all up ins; gonna run my grease-slicked hands over my naked, nubile chest. My meat moans will echo throughout the halls of Valhalla. I am so uncomfortably erect.


 
 
 

One day, I hope I muster the courage to drop the façade my life has become and pursue my true passion; the strong, primal pull I’ve had my entire life: cornering Michael Douglas in a Burger King men’s room and convincing him to fuck me raw.


 
 
 

Happy Humpday from your generous, hirsute lover, Heston. And also from this fellow I found out in the wild, who shot me a thumbs up out of his car window when he saw me snapping this picture. What can you do? You thumbs-up that son of a bitch right back.


 
 
 

Finally got around to checking out my 2021 Year in Review for Switch fucking whatever thing, and wouldn't you know it:


 
 
 

Some of you may have thought me dead: banish such calamitous ideations. I've simply been busy, at the clubs, dancing to this fellow Ed Sheeran's song by the name of "Shivers" for 93 straight hours. Heston knows how to cut rug until it's on fire, y'all.




 
 
 
 
 

Look, I don't pop in often on account of being legally dead and also these type-computers confuse my fingers, but our good friend Perro got promoted today, and I think we should all celebrate that. And if you disagree, I will find you and mount you.


 
 
 

Happy First Night of Hanukkah, from your ol' pal, Heston! May it be full of merriment, candles, exotic breads, undeniably Jewish fish, and foreign headwear! Chag Sameach, you filthy animals!


 
 
 

Happy Birthday, Kevin and Sam! Hope it was a day of revelry for you both, full of gaiety and frivolity! Possibly nudity, depending on how y'all like to roll on your days of birth.


 
 
 

Happiest of Birthdays to an absolute sweetheart and force for positivity, Chris Moyse! I hope your day is filled with joy and revelry, peace and contentment, and cake (if you want cake; if not, something equally delicious). You're a precious gem, Chris!


 
 
 

Alright Dtoid, ol' man Heston needs your help with a PS4 issue. Since last night, I haven't been able to get it to recognize certain games. Starting today, it's progressed to the point of not recognizing any. Further details inside.


 
 
 
 

It’s go time: gonna get greasy-deep in a shoggoth. Gonna fondle those supple contours, plumb the aphotic depths into the mushy, goo-slicked core of forbidden sensual & eldritch delights. Rolling for sixes and nines, mmmmfff.


 
 
 

Had that dream again in which Radar from MASH moves in with me, but he has the body of a rotisserie chicken and only speaks in Latin chants and he keeps leaving his dirty towels on the bathroom floor but they're covered with chicken grease. End it, God.


 
 
 

Happy Birthday to a brother, a violent & hirsute lover, a convicted animal shelter arsonist, a hot air balloon adventurer, an amateur Ron Jeremy impersonator, a chanteuse, and one of 5 people with immunity to scabies. Love ya Mike, truly. Fuck this dog.


 
 
 

While it isn’t ideal to not have a permanent home, there is real satisfaction in being able to load all your shit into your car and take off in 20 minutes to new horizons; like some kind of Heston Hobo or Gunnery Gypsy. Part to me, yon seas: I roam.


 
 
 

My phone didn’t ring once while they were casting this Mario shindig. Not. Fucking. Once. What the hell, Nintendo. I bring class, charisma, and undeniable sexual magnetism to any project I’m involved with. You’ll rue this; you’ll ALL rue this.


 
 
 

Harpy Borjday to Ravenclaw, a swell and sweet fella who deserves the best things in life. On that note, I wrote and will now perform this original piece, in honor of your special day. Mazel tov and l’chaim!


 
 


About The Actual Charlton Hestonone of us since 6:46 AM on 12.24.2017

I'm actually Charlton Heston. What, were you expecting some purple prose? An overwrought introduction? Get off of my property, you filthy God damn hippie.

 
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