coyotes
j
California, United States
Recent Activity
1.4 hrs on record
last played on 9 Dec
36 hrs on record
last played on 4 Dec
0 hrs on record
last played on 4 Dec
razr 30 Nov @ 9:13pm 
I am an elite procrastinator. When I'm not busy, it's gaming time. If you find me on a game with you, I'll be friendly, if you are too.
Goop 29 Nov @ 7:14pm 
Welcome to the SteanCornmunity thanks and Have Fun
Goop 27 Nov @ 5:11pm 
Tony Hawk: Most Wanted (2005 video game)
B0nkers 26 Nov @ 4:33pm 
hey you 🦃turkey🦃 lurkey slut👅👅. it’s 🍂HOEvember🍂. you know what that means❓ 🕖time🕐 to gobble👏 gobble👏 gobble👏 on a big ol😜😜 ♥♥♥♥👌💋. back in 1️⃣4️⃣9️⃣2️⃣, our main ♥♥♥♥♥💁💁 Christopher Columbus👦🏻 and those slutty👙👠 pilgrims🏊🏊 had to 💦💦♥♥♥💦💦 2️⃣ America⛵️⛵️⛵️⚓️ in search🕵 of new ♥♥♥♥♥ to suck🐓🐓🐓. send this to 1️⃣0️⃣ of your sluttiest pilgrim 🌽🌽 ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ or you won’t get any 💦gravy💦 this year. Get 5️⃣ back and you’re a mashed potato hoe😟😟. get 1️⃣0️⃣ back and you’re a sexy stuffing slut😽😽. happy 🦃♥♥♥♥🐓 gobbling👄 thursday and get ready for big ◼️BLACK◼️ ♥♥♥♥ 🎅🏿FRIDAY🎅🏿
emil 23 Nov @ 10:51am 
I began refusing hens cooked with inferior processes. I interrogated waiters, then chose salmon when their answers failed to satisfy me. I ruined family dinners, get togethers with friends, and the office potluck. I simply could not eat chicken cooked by barbarians who failed to spatchcock it. A single bite from a piece of chicken that failed to impart the juicy, extravagant flavor of a spatchcocked bird would send me into an aggressive rant which often ended in tears.

I write this, alone, from a basement apartment with the juices of a properly spatchcocked chicken rolling down my chin. I simply cannot - nay, will not - accept a boring existence outside of the spatchcock lifestyle.

Heed my cautionary tale.
emil 23 Nov @ 10:51am 
I used to be happy, healthy, and social. I had a family, I had friends. Until that dark day when my wife asked me to spatchcock a chicken for a recipe. I had never heard of it before.

As I ripped the backbone out of this flightless bird and smashed its pelvis into flat submission with my fist, I had no idea what this revelation would do to me.

For I could never eat any other chicken again. I demanded that all chicken be as absurdly juicy and perfectly cooked as a spatchcocked bird. I accepted nothing less than the tender, perfectly mouthwatering meat of a dead, spineless, spatchcocked hen.