Here's the last two people remaining with the heart to save Sweden.
/brit/
Detta är vad Sverige handlade om förr i tiden
Stalin personally noscoped 100 billion
I constantly fantasize about being a multi-billionaire entrepreneur that fucks insane amounts of beautiful women and then brags about it in interviews.
I imagine that I use my insane wealth to commission auteurs to create zeitgeist defining art and film projects and fund huge research projects into esoteric areas such as psychedelics and conspiracy theories. I also envision myself as the far-right equivalent of George Soros and flagrantly antagonise SJWs everywhere with my hardline, outspoken diatribes.
I sail around the mediterranean on a super yacht, surrounded by dozens of stunning Instathots and huge breasted Scoreland models. I literally give millions of dollars to random people and seek to antagonise those who are jealous of my wealth and politics by handing over huge sums to already wealthy sociopaths. I do this to make a statement about how little I actually care about money. I spend 10s of millions on Picasso's, Dali's, Warhol's, Basquiat's and then publicly burn them or destroy them in some other novel manner.
I am the all-time most viewed guest on the Joe Rogan Podcast and we sat for 4 hours discussing my life less ordinary. I'm Joe's perfect guest - a filthy rich, kickboxing expert, anthropologically obsessed psychonaut. I inform Joe that recently, through the 'friend of a friend' I took a 2 hour intravenous DMT trip and discovered the meaning of life.
I bought Yas Forums from Hiro, immediately trolled the whole userbase by removing every board and the homepage contained nothing more than piccolodick.gif. I then re-opened the site, removed Captcha and began forcing memes like crazy from my 100 million dollar mansion.
The reality? I'm the biggest loser you could ever meet in all your days. No job, no girlfriend, no independence. Absolutely nothing to live for whatsoever. Just Yas Forums and my porn addiction.
I'm slim and sexy
>youll work for me one day
My first job I ever had was working in an arcade during the summer holidays when I was 15, fixing the machines and general stuff like that. I didn't get my growth spurt until quite late so I still had little dainty hands and was only around 5'3 or so, so I was a dab hand at unjamming clogged ticket reels and getting into the electronics without having to take the whole thing apart, and at the end of the day i'd get paid cash in hand. One job that has stuck in my mind was when the punching strength machine wasn't giving out tokens anymore and none of the lights came on, I had to climb up where the ball comes down from and was fiddling around with the electrics board. I heard the typical jeering and laughs of a crowd of drunk lads so I was about to come down out of the machine, then started to panic when I realised I was stuck and couldn't get out the same way I came in. I heard the lads putting money into the machine, not realising I was up there, and at the same time my bollocks fell out the leg of my shorts and dangled through the gap, I heard them shout "right deano you go first" and I was yelling "wait!!" but they couldn't hear me over the obnoxiously loud music playing in the arcade, There must have been about six lads all taking running haymakers on my bollocks while I was screaming in pain, trying to pull my bollocks out of the machine. In fact they swole so large I couldn't get them back through the gap and finally through some smart thinking I was able to get my mobile out of my pocket and phone my manager to come down and stop these lads giving my bollocks a bashing, then he had to get the fire service to cut me out of the machine.
Sterile to this day but the boss gave me an extra 200 quid at the end of the summer