Dimwitrolo

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Dimwitrolo last won the day on November 28 2017

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About Dimwitrolo

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  1. Post a meme a day thread

    Last one is a pizza order from an old 4chan raid. I think.
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  4. Imagine waking up in a world where toilets just don't exist. People still have to go, but toilets don't exist. When you need to wee, that's what you do. Where ever you are, whatever you're wearing. "Hey Gemma. Get up, lazy! You're gonna be late" "Huh?" I stammer, opening my eyes and looking around. Looking down I can see my grey Track pants and bare feet hanging over the end of the couch and my roommate at the far end of them, leaning over me and grinning. "You know you've got a bed for a reason, Gem" She says, smirking and gesturing lazily in the direction of my room. "You can't keep falling asleep on the sofa like that" She says, pushing my feet to the floor and nearly throwing me over with them. "It can't be good for your neck." "I didn't mean to..." I protest lazily, swinging my legs down and sitting up. "I was watching TV ... *Yawn* ... and I just kinda fell asleep." "Where've I heard that one before?" Sophie says, rubbing her chin and feigning thought. "Was it yesterday? Or maybe the day before that?" "Okay Sophe, it's been everyday this week-" "Month" "...month. Still, it means I don't have to make my bed in the morning." She looks at me with her hips cocked and smirks again. "Come on lazy. It's time for breakfast." I heave myself off the couch and follow Sophie into the kitchen. It's not much, just university accommodation, five rooms. Two bedrooms, a lounge, a kitchen, and a bathroom. The table's in the kitchen, a rickety wooden thing from a Swedish furniture shop that Sophie managed to put together over the space of a week. 'Because it's really complicated!' she says. How hard can putting bits of wood onto other bits of wood really be? I mean they gave her instructions and everything! Sophie leans over the stove as she gets breakfast ready. She's a fairly small girl, barely five foot in total, and quite slim built. Don't let that fool you though, she could eat for King and Country. She's got relatively long wavy hair, a shade somewhere between reddish and brunette, and it comes down her shoulder blades. As she fiddles with the frying pans and the stove, I can just about see them moving under her pale white tank-top, which hangs loosely over her frame, above her light-blue pyjama pants. Her PJs are kinda old - she's had them since well before I met her, but she insists that they're fine considering that no-one's really ever going to see them. When I tell her that I can see them she just kinda winks and smirks at me. I, in contrast, am a little taller than average, and a little heavier too, though I won't ever admit that out loud. Not massive, just a bit...chubby. Nothing a diet and couple months at the gym won't fix, but I don't see that happening any time soon. I'm far too busy for the gym - if I spend all my time down there, how am I going to fit in all my sleeping? Anyway, the last time I went to the gym I slipped on the treadmill and got slung across to the dumbbells. On my face. That video did a few rounds on campus. I only wear these track pants because they're really very comfy, and that's all that matters when there's a back-to-back marathon on TV. Red Dwarf or Black Adder on a good day, Homes under the hammer or Home accounting made easy on a not so good day. Or a day where I'm too lazy to reach for the remote. That coffee table is quite a stretch if I'm already lying down after all. I've gone on a tangent - more about me - I've got messy brown hair, kept loosely out of my face with a clip, and only kept pointed downwards thanks to gravity. I can't remember the last time I used my hair-brush. Sophie turns around with the first frying pan and drops a couple slice of bacon onto my plate, then a couple onto hers. Then a couple more. Then another. She smiles and turns back to the stove with her now empty pan. "It's not fair" I say to Sophie. "How can you eat so much and have a figure like that?". It only makes it worse that she's dancing along slightly to the radio as she cooks, swaying her hips. Slim, carefully rounded. You'd think she was athletic if walking up two flights of stairs didn't wind her. "Just great genes!" she says, kicking her hips to one side. "Not just jeans" I say. "You'd look great in anything!" I watch her backside swing side to side, the cheeks forms visible as the PJ fabric sits over them. The handful of tears that bare tiny glimpses of skin. The large dark spot emanating from between her thighs as she - What. As Sophie stands there cooking, smiling and dancing, her bladder starts emptying. Without any warning, or any indication that she even needed to go, Sophie quite happily wets herself. A dark stain casts it's way over the curve of her cheeks, slightly upwards and around, while that same stain quickly descends straight down between her thighs. Within a second, the sound of splattering joins the spitting and sizzling of the frying pans on the grill, as pee hits the floor between Sophie's legs. Sophie meanwhile starts humming as she prods into the pan with a wooden spoon. Dark specks appear on Sophie's calves as pee runs through the fabric of her PJs rather than straight down, catching her calves on the way to the floor. a few more seconds and her calves are soaked. At the same time, the wet stain from her backside has spread as far down at her knees, spreading to the side as the flow with the curves of her body. Our dull kitchen light flickers and Sophie's soaked legs glisten as the light changes. I can only sit and stare, mouth agape, from my wooden chair. Her PJs barely soak any of it up they're so thin, so pee continues to run down, through and over them, creating a thin layer of pee that soaks over the fabric. Meanwhile, streaks flow down and cares every curve of her skin, surrounding her ankles, running over the top of her foot, and spilling between her toes, joining into the now-quite-large puddle beneath her. The laminated wooden floor of course doesn't soak anything in, and none of the puddle runs anywhere, and so the puddle just grows as Sophie quite happily adds to it. She steps to one side to put one empty frying pan into the sink at the far end of the kitchen, her wet foot slapping on the wood, her wet PJs flicking a few drips in the same direction. When she steps back there's half a wet foot-print showing where she'd been. She turns around with another frying pan, smiling. She doesn't so far as acknowledge the thin yellow stream from between her legs as she prongs a sausage and puts it onto my plate. I look up at her with one eyebrow raised as she stabs another and puts it down. She sees the way I'm staring at her and frowns. "What's up?" She says, Putting sausage after sausage onto her own plate, and letting her stream finish into her PJs. Once she's got a small pile, she turns around again to the grill, splishing with every step. She turns around with the third pan, and spoons out a fried egg and a fried tomato onto my plate. She leans back and empties the rest of the pan onto her plate. She turns around again, ass glistening in the light, and drops the pan into the sink. She comes back, pulls out a chair and flicks a few drips of her legs before taking a seat, squishing as her backside hits the wood. I hear her squish her legs dry under the table as she starts cutting her way into a sausage. As she puts her first mouthful in, she looks back to me, waiting for the answer. I'm too struck to really think of what to say. "Hello, earth to Gemsie?" Sophie says, leaning to one side and squeezing more drips out her PJs and onto the floor. "Something up? You look like you've seen a ghost." She says, popping more sausage into her mouth. "Sophie...what the fuck?" "Huh? Oh, right, I forgot the hash browns!" She says, smacking herself in the face. "I knew I was forgetting something" She says, smirking like I'm playing. Then she looks at my confused expression and mirrors one back at me. "You aren't this mad about hash browns?" "No, not the hash br- Sophie, you just pissed yourself." Sophie looks down to her legs, then at the puddle. Then at me, still as confused. "Yeah?" I put my hands out, hoping for an explanation. "I had to pee" Sophie says to me, as if it's a decent explanation. "What else do you want me to do?" "Use the toilet like a civilised human being?" "What-let?" "What?" "What the hell's a toi...thing you just said?" "Toilet?" "Yeah that, what is that?" "It's where you go to pee" I say to her, now a bit concerned. "My PJs?" "Do you usually pee in them?" "If I'm wearing them" "What?" "If I'm not then no" "Where do you usually....hang on. You're having me on, aren't you?" I say to her. "This is some kind of prank" Sophie looks at me like I'm being weird. I look at the calander. April 1. "Ha! I knew it! It's April fools day! You're having me on!" "Oh shit, it is! Dammit, I had something pretty great lined up too!" "That wasn't trying to convince me you've never heard of a toilet?" "What are you...No, I was going to cold spaghetti in your slippers. Where are your slippers anyway?" "I stopped wearing them. After you put spaghetti in them last year" Sophie chuckles so hard she nearly chokes on her bacon. "Oh yeah! I remember that!". Once we've finished eating, we both leave the table, with me carefully avoiding Sophie's puddle and Sophie splashing through it like it's not even there as we put our dishes in the sink for later. We both leave the kitchen and Sophie heads to her room while I head to the bathroom. I open the door, step inside, and - And there's no toilet. Sink, shower, bath, little metal bin with a foot-lever. No toilet. I lean out the door to see Sophie getting changed in the lounge, sliding her soaked Pyjamas to the floor, baring her still glistening legs. "Hey Sophe, where's the loo?" "The what?" "The loo- the toilet" "Stop making stuff up, I already know this is some April fools joke" she says to me. This has to be some kind of elaborate prank, I just know it. There's no way that toilets don't exist! I've spent the past eighteen years of my life using them daily! Well, except for that one time I was fifteen and the bar staff didn't ask for ID. I must have used my jeans at least three times. They were black so no-one noticed until I let out a sigh on use number 3. I think we were all barred from that place on the spot. I guess I should of waited until I wasn't buying drinks at the time. Still, you live and you learn. "Hey, you finished in there yet?" Sophie asks, poking her head through the door. She's gotten changed now into a grey pinafore dress, white blouse, and grey tights. "I want to clean my teeth before we leave for college." "Huh? Oh, give me a sec". She sighs and leaves again as she realises I haven't so much as turned on a tap yet. I turn the tap on and start getting ready. The two of us leave the flat and head to the bus stop. I haven't pee'd yet, but right now I don't really need to go - and I refuse to believe toilets aren't real! As we stand at the bus stop, another woman joins us. She takes her seat on the far end and opens her newspaper. We don't pay her much mind and carry on talking, until a splashing sound distracts me. This woman, sat at the bus stop, just proceeds to wet herself. I stare, confused, and Sophie nudges me. "Hey, what is with you today?" "She's" - I cut my voice down to a whisper. "She's just wet herself too!" "And?" "Have I gone mad? Am I the only one who thinks this is weird?" "I guess so!" Sophie says, grinning and leaning back on the bus stop. I glance back to the woman, who seems more interested in the story about the president on the front page than the massive wet stain going down her jeans and into her trainers. She moves her foot a couple times, sending ripples across the still warm puddle as it streams into the road side. "Here" Sophie says. "Ask her if she's ever heard of a toil't or whatever it was." "Okay" I say. "I will." I turn to the woman. She looks about mid-twenties. Short brown hair, jeans and sneakers, blue hoodie. She flicks one leg to the side. It suddenly dawns on me that it's quite rude to ask someone who's just had an accident if they know what a toilet is. I turn back to Sophie. "No." "What?" Sophie asks. "Fine, I'll ask." "No don-" "Excuse me miss" Sophie says. The woman looks up and smiles, pee still dripping onto the floor from her seat. "My friend here would like to know if you've ever heard of a toil...tai - what was it Gemma?" I'm blushing bright red at how rude this is. "T-toilet" I correct her. "A toilet" Sophie says. "Toilet?" The woman repeats, as she finishes using hers. Is that some kind of foreign food? Sophie turns to me. "Now will you stop with this toilet nonsense?" The bus arrives and we step on. I refuse to sit down, which further confuses Sophie, who decides she'll stand with me. My reasoning is that all the seat are wet. Sophie reasons that I've gone mad. I pick my bag up off the floor as a man stood near me empties his bladder into his gym kit. I don't want my papers getting soaked in that. Sophie agrees with me for once, so maybe I'm not totally mad. The bus journey's quite long, so I get ample time for my bladder to start filling up. By the time we get off I'm starting to show signs of needing to go. Signs like leaning side to side, pressing my hand between my legs, and - by the last stop - moaning. I get one really weird look from this 30 something looking woman and her daughter, wearing matching wet skirts. Well, only one skirt was wet when they got on the bus. Arriving in college and everything is still just as strange. Friends stood in groups, some legs dry, some wet, some with streams splattering down to the ground between their feet. Teachers and staff walking around, some stopping to talk, some working, some making puddles. I can only think about how sorry I feel for the cleaner. "We've got history first, right?" Sophie says, startling me a little. "I think so". I say to her, pulling my phone out my bag. "Yeah, history, with that new teacher, Miss Lynn" "We have Miss Lynn?" Sophie asks. "She's a qualified teacher now?" "Yeah, she was doing her experience year last year, now she's a real teacher." "Huh" Sophie says. "She can't be over 25 right?" "I don't think so" I say, shuffling my legs. "She certainly doesn't look it" "Oh yeah, she look really good for her age" A new voice butts in. We both turn around to see Anna walk up and join us. "What I wouldn't give for a body like hers!" Anna's in our history class. She's taller than the two of us, but quite thin. She's got long straight blonde hair, tied back in a pony tail. She's wearing a white blouse with one of those ruffled fronts, and a grey skirt beneath, and a pair of grey tights. "Why do you want a body like Miss Lynn's?" Sophie asks. "You've got a pretty great body yourself!" "Well, I don't want to be in her body" Anna says. "I want to be with it - she's a total cutie!" "So you do kinda want to be in it" I say to her. Anna smirks. "How are you two anyway?" Anna asks. "Good weekend?" "Yeah, it was alright" I answer first. Sophie looks at me. "Gemma's in bit of a strange mood, she's spent all morning talking about something called a 'toilet'" "A what?" Anna asks, looking at me. I roll my eyes. "A toilet, somewhere you go to pee" "What, like here?" Anna says. "There's a name for places you've peed?" "No, it's a specific place you go to pee" Sophie tells her. "Gemma's just making it up, some kind of April fools joke. I fold my arms and look at them both disbelievingly. "Why would I make that up? It's common sense." Anna giggles. "Why would you come up with something so strange? What's the point?" "So you don't get pee all over you all the time!" I almost shout. "You're dry right now, right? You must have used a toilet!" Anna looks down at her skirt. "No, I haven't 'used a toilet'. I just haven't been yet" "Why not go now and get it out the way?" Sophie says to her. "Maybe you can get Gemma to go too, she's been holding it in all morning." "Oh you shouldn't hold it in, Gems" Anna says to me. "That's not good for your health". "Plus it makes you look like one of those weird people who get a kick from holding it in all day" Sophie says. She pauses for a moment. Then she smirks. "You don't, do you?" Sophie asks, grinning. "Oh my god you do!" Anna laughs. "No wonder she's made up this weird toilet thing! She's getting off to this!" I blush a bright red. "You two shut up! I don't get turned on by this!" "Look at her!" Anna giggles. "She's holding herself and everything! Legs wrapped around each other - you're absolutely into this!" "S-shut up! I am not!" I've only now realised quite how badly I need to go. I've been too busy talking and being confused to even notice that I'm wrapped around myself trying not to pee. I bend over a little and press both hands between my legs to hold everything back in. "Look at the way she's trying so hard!" Sophie giggles. "I don't get it!" "It's not some kink! I'm not going to piss myself!" "You really are weird!" Anna says. As she starts to say this, she decides to empty her own bladder. Anna and Sophie continue talking, while I sort of listen and hold myself quite desperately, which isn't easy now that Anna's decided she's just going to pee in her skirt. At first, a few black streaks make their way down her thighs, creeping down and spreading past her knees. As the stream gains momentum, it begins pouring out her tights and splattering to the floor. Her and Sophie don't pay the slightest attention to the warm spreading stain around Anna's legs, staining her grey tights a glistening black. What the tights can't absorb just runs over them, dripping and pouring onto the carpeted floor of the college, splattering and soaking in, not so much leaving a puddle as a huge dark stain beneath her. Pee pours down her legs, with some of it catching her tight skirt. A black shape begins to form between her thighs as her skirt begins to soak up what it can. I stare unknowingly as drip after drip cascades between her thighs, barely slowed by the fabric of her tights. Anna shifts her weight from one foot to the other, knocking into a stream, which sends a large volume of quite strong yellow pee plummeting onto the floor. Anna then adjusts herself to stand with her legs apart, letting the golden stream cascade uninterrupted to the ground beneath her feet. Anna and Sophie don't even stop talking while Anna has just completely soaked herself. "Wow, Anna" Sophie says after the last few drips hit the ground. "You need to drink more" "What?" I cut in. "She needs to drink more? She's just pissed herself!" "Yeah I know" Sophie adds, with a look that suggests I'm the weird one here. "But did you see the colour? That was practically orange!" "What colour should it be?" Anna asks. "Kind of a clear colour" "Like Gemma's?" "You're finally going Gemma?" I look down and I see a drip or two escape. I must have been so entranced watching Anna wetting herself that I lost a little control! I feel the warm, damp heat spread down my thighs an inch or so. I blush hard as I hear it splatter into the carpet. I wince and manage to hold the rest back in. I don't have long left now until I can't hold it back and lose it all "Oh just let it go, Gemmy." Sophie says. "What're you trying to prove?" "I-I'm not just going to piss myself like a kid!" I whimper, trying not to do exactly that. "I-I can hold it!" "Why?" Anna asks, squishing her legs together. Hearing that is almost too much, and a small squirt is lost into my underwear. "If you want to hold it like some weirdo you go ahead, Gems" Sophie says, smirking. "Anyway, we need to get to class" We walk to class as a group. Well, I hobble more than walk, but with a bladder this full I think that's excusable. Sitting down in my chair seems to make the whole ordeal that bit more bearable. For the first ten minutes nothing strange goes on - Miss Lynn tells us what to do, and we do it. Today we're looking into causes for the Cuban missile Crisis, but the only crisis I can think of is the one inside me, begging for release. "Is everything alright, Gemma?" I look up to see Miss Lynn looking down at me. I've got one hand between my legs, and the other hand tapping a pen against my text book. "Uhh, I gotta - Nothing, it's nothing." "Gemma" She says, smiling. "It's my job to help you here, there's no need to be embarrassed to ask for help." "H-honestly I'm fine" "Let's see" She says, leaning in to read my work. "Ah, you're looking at Kennedy's reaction, right? With the blockade?" "Y-yeah" She turns around to the front of the table again. I look up at her again. She's not too much older than any of us, but arguably quite a lot more attractive. She's got olive skin and slightly curled dark hair. She's wearing a pair of tight fitting green shorts and a white tank top. Her face is quite soft and pretty, with freckels from cheek to cheek. She smiles at me behind her glasses and I look back down to the book. She starts explaining to me how Kennedy's blockade was the peaceful approach, about how the Soviet ships turned back, and how it could have avoided war, but the only thing I'm trying to avoid is an accident. Miss Lynn isn't though, while she's explaining all this to me, she has one of her own. She doesn't even hesitate or falter - she just carries on teaching me. I sit there, in my chair, staring at the green shorts of my teacher as there's a sudden dark burst and her crotch is immediately soaked by a surge of warm pee, accompanied by a muffled hiss. It pours down and out the legs of her shorts, splattering to the ground. A singular, powerful stream erupts from directly between her legs, pounding into the ground between her feet, flickering droplets upwards as they splash against the floor. Some of them splash against my legs, causing me to squirt out another dribble or two, which crash to the ground - not that you can really tell over the thunderous splashing of Miss Lynn's stream as she quite happily goes into her shorts. She shifts her weight from one foot to the other in front of me, interrupting the stream and sending it coursing down her right leg. At least now the splashing's stopped, as the pee is clinging to her skin, wrapping it's way over her leg before finding it's way into her shoe. She's wearing a pair of green canvas shoes, and the green canvas doesn't hesitate to begin soaking it all in. Within second one of her shoes is several shades darker than the other, and the white laces are slightly yellowed as warm pee continues to flood over them. She doesn't seem to care as she tries to point at parts of my text book to prove points about how Kennedy made the best decision. The only decision I can think of right now is whether or not to accept that toilets really don't exist anymore, and watching my teacher quite casually urinating in front of me like this is really making me question if they toilets ever really did exist. "Gemma?" Miss Lynn asks, pee still falling out her shorts. "Is something wrong?" "I - I think so, M-miss Lynn..." "What's wrong?" "I...N-nothing..." "Something's wrong, what is it?" Miss Lynn asks. She spreads her legs side to side to lean down, and once again her pee falls straight onto the floor. "N-nothing!" I insist, biting onto my fist. "N-nothing!" "Hold on, let me finish this" She says, standing up again. She stands still in front of me, continuing to pee. It takes me a moment to realise she means she wants to finish peeing, by which point the last few drops are falling from her shorts. "Right" She says. "Come with me" "W-what?" She doesn't say anything, she gestures with her head. I haven't really got a choice, I stand up, squirting out a little more as I do. I'm so concentrated on not peeing now that I don't notices Miss Lynn's quite large puddle until I hear my foot splash into it. I wince again, then carry on out the room. "So, Gemma" Miss Lynn says, leaning against the wall and leaving a wet mark. "Something's on your mind." "I....I need to pee..." I admit, blushing. She looks at me like I'm saying something that doesn't make sense. "What's stopping you?" She says after a brief hesitation. "I...N-nothing" "You saw what I did when I had to pee, right? Just do that" "I....fine." I give up. This world doesn't make sense. No toilets, just pee where-ever. I give up. I submit. I let go. The entire world seems to shudder and freeze as I relax my bladder. I let out a massive sigh as relief hits me like a truck. My body, as if it had been ready for this, immediately complies, and within seconds I'm peeing at full force into my tights, which soak up what they can, leaving a huge, warm dark patch. The patch spreads down my legs, bringing all the heat with it. Pee begins to splash down my legs, splashing and pattering onto the carpet, creating a very satisfying puddle around me as it all pours out. I gasp for air and lean back against the wall, letting it all pour out of me. I feel the heat spread over my legs, down and around my thighs and ass, as pee begins to soak it's way over me. I can feel myself grinning inanely at the sweet relief takes over my entire body. My bladder is pushing as hard as it can, creating a sharp hiss inside my skirt as I do my best to force out the contents of my bladder. I shudder as the relief continues to grow, and I can feel the warmth spreading up and around my back. The world almost begins to fade away, until it's just me and my emptying bladder, and all the pee pouring out of me, soaking through my clothes, running down and over my skin, pooling below my feet. I let my body slide down the wall, sitting now in my fresh, warm, and ever-growing puddle. I land with a splash on the surprisingly soft floor. Pee continues to pour out of me, running over my skin and up my back now until I can feel it at my shoulder blades. I grin and stretch and open my eyes, expecting to see Miss Lynn. I don't see Miss Lynn though. I open my eyes slowly, and I'm not in the corridor at college. I look around. I'm in the lounge of my flat. I shut my eyes and grin. "Hey Gemma. Get up, lazy! You're gonna be late" "Huh?" I stammer, opening my eyes and looking around. Looking down I can see my grey Track pants and bare feet hanging over the end of the couch and my roommate at the far end of them, leaning over me and grinning. "Gemma! Oh for - I keep telling you not to sleep there!" "What?" It takes me a moment to realise what's happening. I look down further. Between my legs is a very dark patch in my track pants. My legs, my back and my ass are very warm, and very wet. "I-it was all a dream..." I mumble, looking down as I continue peeing in my track-pants. "Would you stop peeing now! I have to clean this couch! Geez, get up and go use the toilet, would you!" "Hold on, let me finish here..."
  5. Scenes from Wet in the Wasteland

    Nope, requests are free. They can take upwards of a year though because I'm a lazy bastard You're thinking of commissions
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  10. I’d love to participate! If you tell me a bit about the game (setting and themes, that sort of thing) I could draw up a couple of rough sketches for you, so we can get an idea of what we want things to look like, maybe draft a couple characters too, that sort of thing.
  11. I'm not great at sprite work, but I'd be more than willing to contribute portraits or wetting scenes, or even help with writing and ideas! Check out my albums if you're interested in seeing what my art style is like, and if that interests you I'd love to contribute!
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  13. I only ever come on this website for the ‘post a meme a day’ thread

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