Kampfing
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Mein Kampfing
The act of camping while playing Call of Duty World at War, since most of the game takes place in Nazi Germany
Jim: (Whilst Playing CoD WoW) "Yo dude I keep dying, where am I getting shot from"
Dave: "Aw dude Hans is Mein Kampfing up in the tower, what a fag"
Dave: "Aw dude Hans is Mein Kampfing up in the tower, what a fag"
Mein Kampfing by jsd1027 June 22, 2011
Related Words
kempfing
The act of kempfing is to pump a girl full of diesel during 5 second intercourse then to also disperse the diesel upon the girls stomach or chest if possible. People that kempf usually are attracted to "filling up" girls with the first name Kailyn, Shawna, and Faye. Also the only way to be endowed with diesel flowing through your small penis is to be obsessed with diesel, trucks, or cranes.
Kailyn - Last night got weird I was riding Joe then he went inside me.
Chris - What's weird about that?
Kailyn - Just that black stuff drained out of my vagina and it smelled like diesel.
Chris - That's a classic case of kempfing.
Chris - What's weird about that?
Kailyn - Just that black stuff drained out of my vagina and it smelled like diesel.
Chris - That's a classic case of kempfing.
kempfing by Trucks, Diesel, Cranes July 28, 2009
kampping
Kampping is when you think that if you put a C, it would sound like Samping so you put a K instead of a C
kampping by Lame-O Girl June 4, 2020
fogey
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)