E
EH 110
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kiwifarms.net
I'm going to guess she'll drop dead on her 30th birthday: December 27, 2020.
Dead pool for Fatty - I got sick of waiting for someone else to make this
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- Dołączono
- 7 Maj 2019
I’m gonna say august 2023, by a good ol’ heart attack.
I predict Thumbelina will continue the channel by filming morbid storytime vids on her dead gf.
I predict Thumbelina will continue the channel by filming morbid storytime vids on her dead gf.
- Dołączono
- 3 Cze 2019
No matter when it happens, or how or why....
We all know that (since history has proven before) The ThumbTard will short-circuit her one singular remaining autismic spergy braincell and derp out into the ultimate chimping whaaaaaaahhhh-wail rage.
Thumbo-Jumbo is going to spiral out and blame herself for Hamber's untimely filthy death, just like she is riddled with guilt and blames herself for all of the dead nephews. If she has tried to kill herself once already over a dead toddler that has literally nothing to do with her at all....imagine the fallout considering that years and years of her bullshit enabling did technically directly contribute to HamLard's untimely demise. We can discuss the semantics all day, but her LoViNg GoRlFrEnD becoming yet another dead relative heaped onto Thick Necky's pile of dead bodies is going to totally tip HER over the edge too, just watch.
We all know that (since history has proven before) The ThumbTard will short-circuit her one singular remaining autismic spergy braincell and derp out into the ultimate chimping whaaaaaaahhhh-wail rage.
Thumbo-Jumbo is going to spiral out and blame herself for Hamber's untimely filthy death, just like she is riddled with guilt and blames herself for all of the dead nephews. If she has tried to kill herself once already over a dead toddler that has literally nothing to do with her at all....imagine the fallout considering that years and years of her bullshit enabling did technically directly contribute to HamLard's untimely demise. We can discuss the semantics all day, but her LoViNg GoRlFrEnD becoming yet another dead relative heaped onto Thick Necky's pile of dead bodies is going to totally tip HER over the edge too, just watch.
- Dołączono
- 8 Lis 2016
I'm really hoping Becky gets replaced long before Amber croaks. So. Fucking. Boring.
- Dołączono
- 15 Lis 2014
She is so fucking boring I am more than sure her case worker spaces out during her sessions.
- Dołączono
- 30 Sty 2019
March 2021.
- Dołączono
- 21 Kwi 2018
My bet is March 2020
- Dołączono
- 15 Mar 2019
Well...Anybody could die at any time from a number of things but when her body actually kills itself from obesity complications? I’m gonna guess January 2025. I really don’t think Amber is currently dying, she’s just a nasty fucking gorl whose immune system is starting to cave under her scab picking and poopy fingernails. It’s going to crumble slowly, and come 2025 it won’t be able to handle much more. As a couple people previously mentioned, the weather plus the holidays might give her pneumonia or a heart attack brought on by all those sugary snacks her 60th dietician will tell her are perfectly fine to eat. Then her channel will just kinda...dwindle into nothingness. I don’t think Becky seems to interested in taking over, Eric might try to squeeze out just a little more milk from her rotting utters, but once this circus elephant goes down she’s taking the whole tent with her (is that a decent metaphor? i’m no writerlynn).
Yeah, I’m gonna go with January 2025. Sure there could be a falling accident, but she’s a roach, she’ll survive even without her layyygs. If they had to amputate I bet she’d be so proud of her weight loss. And what other accidents could she really have if she winds up bedbound this year? As if she isn’t basically already? This cow’s gonna be with us for a long time, I’m sure of it.
Yeah, I’m gonna go with January 2025. Sure there could be a falling accident, but she’s a roach, she’ll survive even without her layyygs. If they had to amputate I bet she’d be so proud of her weight loss. And what other accidents could she really have if she winds up bedbound this year? As if she isn’t basically already? This cow’s gonna be with us for a long time, I’m sure of it.
- Dołączono
- 23 Maj 2015
I’m perplexed that so many people are only giving her a year or two; did I miss a major health development?
Unless she’s got sepsis or is developing heart failure right this second, she’s got a lot of time right now. Not saying she will be thriving, but she’ll be alive at least.
Unless she’s got sepsis or is developing heart failure right this second, she’s got a lot of time right now. Not saying she will be thriving, but she’ll be alive at least.
- Dołączono
- 25 Maj 2018
I give her no more than 3 years.
And if she's going to pass away before that, then I think her sleep apnea is going to be the thing to take her out in her sleep. That, or an untreated infection due to her poor hygiene.
And if she's going to pass away before that, then I think her sleep apnea is going to be the thing to take her out in her sleep. That, or an untreated infection due to her poor hygiene.
Ostatnio edytowane:
Pog Mathoin
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 11 Lip 2018
I just really hope that when it happens she is carried to her final resting place in the flatbed of a monster truck leading a funeral cortege of other monster trucks. Seems only fitting for our gorl.
- Dołączono
- 1 Sie 2017
I don't know the year (I'll naively guess Nov. 2021) but I'm guessing the cause is going to be complications from an infection.
- Dołączono
- 24 Mar 2019
Sepsis has a quick onset. We've seen beetus knuckles already, but beetus cankles get swollen easily and that fluid buildup / edema can go from normal to gangrenous and in need of amputation in about two weeks.
beanbag in a hurry
Got sick of the ALR pic, look at this cat instead.
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 20 Mar 2019
It's going to be a heatwave that takes our gorl out.
Like a fat autistic Romeo and Juliet
Amber with food, and Necky...well, she'll think of something. She doesn't strike me as a "willing to suffer" type, so it probably wont be hanging or slitting her wrists.
Can you imagine those two haunting the fags for eternity?
- Dołączono
- 10 Sie 2017
Why would the swelling get infected though isn't it just basically water
beanbag in a hurry
Got sick of the ALR pic, look at this cat instead.
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 20 Mar 2019
General lack of hygiene?
- Dołączono
- 30 Mar 2019
If I may...Can you imagine those two haunting the fags for eternity?
It's worst in the summer. That's when it happened, so Ricky's not surprised. Sometimes the humidity makes it unbearable, and he's dreaded to come home from work more than once. He keeps asking Eric to get a job, something part time, just so they both can get a reprieve from this place. Eric had just given him a flat stare and said "I can't." He'd mumbled something after but Ricky had been more focused on quietly stabbing at the last crowns of broccoli on his plate.
Becky's sister has called twice this month. Asking if they know anything, God, anything, that would help the doctors. He doesn't. Maybe Eric does, but he won't say.
There's always a fan on somewhere. Always. Whether it's the small vent fan for the bathroom, or the ceiling fan, or the one in their bedroom that Ricky purposely turns off before bed. They've tried shutting them off, moving them, unplugging them, flipping all the breakers except for the one that controls the kitchen. Nothing stops the fans.
He doesn't go into the room when he can help it. The stench lingers even in the frostiest January weather. The stain is dark with mildew, the boards always shiny with dampness.
He comes home late one evening. Eric didn't answer when he'd called the house, probably in the shower. So Ricky had stopped at the store to grab something to cook on the grill. Get them away from the stench by eating outside. He had only taken an extra twenty minutes. It shouldn't have made a difference.
He walked into the house only to see Eric sitting on the floor, two spoonfuls into his third food scented candle. They spend the rest of the night in the ER while Eric blubbers "I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it."
By August Becky's family is at their wits end. They're just blue collar folk used to blue collar illnesses. They've taken Becky as far north as Chicago, as far south as Atlanta. They've reached out to a group of Scientist at UCLA. They'll leave in ten days. When Ricky and Eric go to embrace Becky, they barely connect hands around her girth.
Now Eric wants to go with him to work everyday. Some months when they're really busy, he can swing it with his boss. He leaves Eric in the care of the office ladies twice his age. There's always envelopes that need licking and papers that need stapling. Eric is just glad to the company, then distraction. But the work day is only so long, and they need to go home to Chubs and Trixie eventually.
Tonight is stickier than ever. The fans, the smell, the odd creaks that send the dogs scrambling into bed with them. Ricky watched the ceiling. The night outside this home was dark, but the nights inside are sometimes darker.
Becky's sister has called twice this month. Asking if they know anything, God, anything, that would help the doctors. He doesn't. Maybe Eric does, but he won't say.
There's always a fan on somewhere. Always. Whether it's the small vent fan for the bathroom, or the ceiling fan, or the one in their bedroom that Ricky purposely turns off before bed. They've tried shutting them off, moving them, unplugging them, flipping all the breakers except for the one that controls the kitchen. Nothing stops the fans.
He doesn't go into the room when he can help it. The stench lingers even in the frostiest January weather. The stain is dark with mildew, the boards always shiny with dampness.
He comes home late one evening. Eric didn't answer when he'd called the house, probably in the shower. So Ricky had stopped at the store to grab something to cook on the grill. Get them away from the stench by eating outside. He had only taken an extra twenty minutes. It shouldn't have made a difference.
He walked into the house only to see Eric sitting on the floor, two spoonfuls into his third food scented candle. They spend the rest of the night in the ER while Eric blubbers "I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it."
By August Becky's family is at their wits end. They're just blue collar folk used to blue collar illnesses. They've taken Becky as far north as Chicago, as far south as Atlanta. They've reached out to a group of Scientist at UCLA. They'll leave in ten days. When Ricky and Eric go to embrace Becky, they barely connect hands around her girth.
Now Eric wants to go with him to work everyday. Some months when they're really busy, he can swing it with his boss. He leaves Eric in the care of the office ladies twice his age. There's always envelopes that need licking and papers that need stapling. Eric is just glad to the company, then distraction. But the work day is only so long, and they need to go home to Chubs and Trixie eventually.
Tonight is stickier than ever. The fans, the smell, the odd creaks that send the dogs scrambling into bed with them. Ricky watched the ceiling. The night outside this home was dark, but the nights inside are sometimes darker.