A retard "Are WE the bad guys?"
Hym "And retarded. Don't forget retarded. And it isn't God doing this and it isn't Justice. I'm going to kill God and Justice is going to be what happens to this kids for you stalking harassing and then robbing and trying to use me as an example to coerce behavior in others is I don't get the fucking credit and that fucking money you retarded dogshit."
Hym "And retarded. Don't forget retarded. And it isn't God doing this and it isn't Justice. I'm going to kill God and Justice is going to be what happens to this kids for you stalking harassing and then robbing and trying to use me as an example to coerce behavior in others is I don't get the fucking credit and that fucking money you retarded dogshit."
by Hym Iam August 20, 2024
Get the Are we the bad guysmug. Im a Bad bitch
by kkjdhfkjsdhfkajhd July 14, 2021
Get the Bad Bitchmug. When no matter how many naked anime waifu videos, jpegs, gifs, or Tik-toks you watch, you stay fiending like the horny humping red rocket wiener dog you are. Hence, you DON'T GOT THAT DAWG IN YOU.
Wow! Matthew is SO down bad. All he does is watch videos of naked anime girls or tik-toks of girls shakin that booty. He is definitely down bad. How cringe.
by MowMao January 21, 2023
Get the Down Badmug. by yiyyickygyickygjust wants a May 9, 2018
Get the bad bitchmug. by goodlad69 September 13, 2021
Get the bad ladmug. Big Bad Brad (noun): A lumbering, sub-human brute with a bulbous frame and an unnaturally wide base. His thick, fat, calloused hooves are often crammed into women’s footwear. His face, a big, dumb, perfectly round slab of confusion, sits atop his hairy mass, though his scalp remains curiously barren. He speaks in a slow, monotone drawl, as if each word is a struggle against his own stupidity.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), he suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
Chronically late to work and a walking medical mystery (at least in his own mind), he suffers from an extreme case of hypochondria. His days are punctuated by dramatic medical ailments, followed by frantic calls for an ambulance to ferry him from his own home, only for doctors to confirm, yet again, that absolutely nothing is wrong.
A connoisseur of filth, this swamp-dwelling specimen produces greasy, bile-ridden shits at an alarming rate. He is a walking biohazard, harboring every known strain of hepatitis along with a few that science has yet to discover.
Despite his Neanderthal-like attributes, Brad possesses a shockingly average IQ. However, his dental history suggests a level of neglect that has single-handedly funded his dentist’s children’s college tuition. Though Big Bad Brad’s underwear is often covered in matted hair and shit, he remains a friend to all and, in his free time, a self-proclaimed world-class chiropractor, despite having no formal training or hygiene standards.
Jimmy: Big Bad Brad showed up late again, wheezing like he ran a marathon wearing those damn women’s shoes.
Melvin: I swear those shoes are crying for help. Probably like his dentist every time he walks in.
Jimmy: Speaking of cries for help, what’s the over/under on his next fake medical emergency?
Melvin: Two hours—max. My money’s on “mystery heart failure” again.
Melvin: I swear those shoes are crying for help. Probably like his dentist every time he walks in.
Jimmy: Speaking of cries for help, what’s the over/under on his next fake medical emergency?
Melvin: Two hours—max. My money’s on “mystery heart failure” again.
by Dwaggerbomb March 11, 2025
Get the Big Bad Bradmug. 