- “Thank you, kind stranger!”

- “You, sir, have won the internet for today!”

- “Take my upvote” or “Have an upvote”

- “This” or “This. So much this.” (when replying to something they agree with)

- “I just spit out my coffee”

- “Invisible sky daddy” (typically in reference to the Christian God)

- “Bootlicker”

- “Fascist”

- “Bigot”

- “Nazi”

- “Genocide”

- “Two things can be true at once” or “Two things can be true at the same time”

- “Not my proudest fap!”

- “Sigh. *unzips pants* This’ll have to do…”

- “Instructions unclear. Dick caught in ____.”

- “Won’t somebody think of the shareholders? /s”

- “FAFO”

- “Fucked around, found out”

- “I also choose this guy’s wife”

- “This math isn’t mathing”

- “Play stupid games, win stupid prizes”

- “If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck…”

- “That’s… not how it works. That’s not how any of this works”

- "Um dude..."

- "It's almost as if…" or “It’s almost like…”

- "Maybe, just MAYBE…"

- "My guy" or “my dude”

- "I'll take ____ for 500 Alex"

- “[George Carlin quote]”

- “What an odd thing to say.” (in response to a statement you don’t like)

- “I’m going to get downvoted for this, but…” (insert popular opinion)

- “Came to the comments for this”

- “Can’t believe I had to scroll this far”

- “____ and it’s not even close” (Note: it’s usually close)

I saw this deplorable drawing when I was scrolling, I did not go into proshiphub voluntarily, it popped up on my feed, I commented my feelings and when people defended it I felt disgusted, as someone who was groomed in childhood, this is incredibly, viscerally frustrating to see normalized in any space. Because it’s not sunshine and rainbows, this is incestuous and pedophilic, a child cannot consent to a romantic relationship, and the fact that it was incestuous is the CHERRY ON TOP. I don’t care if it’s fictional, that’s not an excuse, the mere idea is deplorable and the fact that someone can thinks it’s “okay” or “acceptable” should not be fine.

I found the best enlargement technique.

For a few days, I have been testing something that has marked a turning point in my long gains. I noticed that a lot of people talk about hormones and stuff related to natural enlargement, so I wondered how to do it naturally. Many will say that you have to eat healthy and play sports, but it's a general view, how can you focus on that for your penis?

I don't know how I came across it, maybe because I saw the word "androgenic" everywhere, and I thought, "What's our most "feminine" moment as men?"

And then, it made me tilt, "What if we did the enlargement exercises after ejaculating"? Man, the stagnation has completely disappeared! I was gaining length just with normal prints! FUCKING

My long gains have increased from almost 0 to a few millimeters per week. In two weeks, I went from 15.3 cm NBP (position of the rule at 90° without bone pressure) to 15.7 cm. And I also stopped for a few days to see if it was just temporary or permanent gains, and it seems, that's the second option, oh yeah.

After a few days, it still works as well, I also found a study that talks about my main hypothesis about how the thing works. I think it has a link with hormones, this study concerns the peak of DHT after ejaculation: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/135817/ Then, it is about other measures after ejaculation in the blood: https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/11760788/

So yeah, I've never heard anyone talk about that, so for now, I'm going to call it Refractory Period Enlargement, or RPE to make it short. Tell me what you think and if you test yourself, share the results!

What if the Grand Ultra Super Shenron fused with Giga-final Hakaishin Beerus using the Omega Potara Dance and achieved the Mega-Autonomous Super Dooper Ultra Instinctual Ego to become Grand-Final Ultra Autonomous God of Mega-Destruction Shenreerus, just so he can trap Evolved ultra instinctual ego gogeta-vegito-whis-beerus-grand zeno super potara fusion (grand gogito wheeruno the third) legendary super saiyan 70000 blue with 50880000000000x kaioken stack inside the Super Hyperbolic Time Chamber for 1000000000000000000099999999999000000009000000000000000000000 years, but then Evolved ultra instinctual ego gogeta-vegito-whis-beerus-grand zeno super potara fusion (grand gogito wheeruno the third) legendary super saiyan 70000 blue with 50880000000000x kaioken stack spent the whole time training and then ESCAPED the Super Hyperbolic Time Chamber and started the Super Tournament of power so he can get REVENGE but this time with all the strong people across the universe including mortals, hakaishin, angels and grand priest, but the grand zeno called his entire zeno family tree amd fused with grandpa zeno uncle zeno sister zeno mother zeno grandma zeno greatgrandpa zeno to stop Evolved ultra instinctual ego gogeta-vegito-whis-beerus-grand zeno super potara fusion (grand gogito wheeruno the third) legendary super saiyan 70000 blue with 50880000000000x kaioken stack and prime Yeat from reaching their final form?

"You're a lizard, you're a lizard, Harry Squatter," said Dadgrid. And just like that, Harry’s new life began. Suddenly it all made sense, why his tongue was splitting down the middle, why his tailbone had been sprouting an actual tail since puberty.

That night, he packed his bags and left in search of the nearest abandoned property with years of unpaid taxes. And there it was, old Bogwarts Castle, refuge for lizards who didn’t quite fit, in the Fuggle world of non-lizards.

I WAS PLAYIG THE MINECRAFT WHEN THE STEVE WITH HYPER-REALISTIC BLOODSHOT EYES SKREEMED "YOu"R NEXT!!!!!!". I TRIED TO HIT ESCAPE TO QUIT THE GAME BUT MY ESCAPE KEY MELTED??? AND THEN THE DISK DRIVE STARTED SMOKING EVEN THOUGH I DONT EVEN HAVE A DISK DRIVE!!!THEN THE HEROBRINE WITH BLOODHOT EYESS APERED BEHIND MY COBBLESTONE HOUSE AND DESTROYED ALL MY CHESTS WITH MY DIAMONDS IN THEM AND COPIED MY IP ADRESS INTO THE CHAT LOG!!!AND TEHN MY COMPUTER STARTED FARTING AS IT POOPED BLOOD EVETYWHERE AROUND MY HOUSE AND FAEC!!!!!!!! IM TYPEING THIS FROM MY CLOSET RIGHT NOW BECAUSE MY COMPUTER SCREEN ISPOOPING AND GLOWING RE D AND I CAN HEAR THE MINECRAFT EATING SOUND EFFECT COMING FROM INSIDE MY WALLS PLS DONT PLAY MINECRAF T AT 3AM OR HE WILL DETEATE YOUR WORLD AND YOUR LIFE!!!!!!!!! HE IS AT MY DOOR HEISHEREHEISHEREHJAKDLF

I've seen many times girls complaining about their period or whatever it is called. I don't know why it happens, maybe it's the last abortion or some spiritual cleaning, I don't know. Maybe girls can do blood manipulation on some avatar type shi, I don't know.

I've read, because I'm so intellectual on this feminine phemonena, I'm a very famous womaniser to, I defend that every woman should be mine obviously, it seems they get the period because they aren't getting pregnant.

Then, why y'all don't get pregnant? Legitimately dumb.

I see the poor princess getting period aches and I just watch?! Fuck no, I'm taking her to bed and I'll personally wrestling with the fucker named period. I'll punch her belly until period gets the fuck out, nobody messes with a cutie like her.

I'm the archenemy of period, fuck him personally. I'll give kids to every woman on earth and punch that sucker named period out of them all! Fr fr!

even as a normal lite user I HATE this ''aww im cute'' ass decoration. I HATE it. I despise it with every microscopic particle of my being. If hatred were a measurable substance, the amount I possess for whatever the fuck this THING is it would collapse into a singularity and swallow the observable universe whole.

super uncool. freaking distracts. i will voluntarily rejoin a level if i saw this. For no game has yet evolved the decoration required to fully describe the absolute, cosmic revulsion I feel toward the wretched concept that is THIS PULSATOR DECORATION

Every time I encounter the eyed pulsator decoration thing, my soul recoils like a vampire exposed to sunlight. The mere thought of it causes my bones to rattle with indignation. My ancestors did not crawl from the primordial oceans, evolve limbs, conquer fire, invent agriculture, build civilizations, and land probes on distant planets just so the eyed pulsator decoration could exist, and yet here it is. the decoration is not merely bad. No. Bad things can sometimes be tolerated. Bad things occasionally redeem themselves. the eyed pulsator decoration, however, has transcended badness. It exists in a higher, more terrible category of failure. It is an achievement of awfulness so profound that historians will one day mark its creation as the precise moment humanity took a wrong turn. geometry dash and everything else..

If I were given the power to erase a single concept from existence—one item, one idea, one object, there would be no hesitation, no deliberation, and no moral dilemma. I would immediately remove the eyed pulsator decoration from reality with the calm certainty of someone deleting a corrupted file from a hard drive. The stars themselves would shine brighter in a universe free of it. Children would laugh again. Birds would sing. COVID-19 would have never happened. But until that glorious day arrives, I remain trapped in the same world as THIS FUCKING DECORATION, forced to endure its continued presence like some cruel cosmic torture

I'd fart right in the begging of a hot box so you could breathe me in and take me with you for the rest of the day. . .thats what friends do

So I talked to this girl on Reddit a couple months back. We hit it off really good, then even went on other socials, had amazing good conversations, heard her tragic life stories, tried to be an unpaid therapist bla bla the whole works.

Then for some reason we stopped talking, then for some reason I deleted my old Reddit account and lost her in this whole sea of internet strangers.

I found her on comments of this sub tho, so if you’re still here, hi! It’s been long let’s catch up again.

How do ppl just talk daily for months and don't exchange number?

"GUIZ GUYS TODAY I DECIDED TO OPEN NATIONSTAT AT SCHOOL AND ThEN A MERCEDES XC70 APPAEAEWEWRED AT MY DEKS AN SRAYED FLAMING OIL ALL VR MY HoMER TSHIRT AND I M BURNING ALIBE LOLLOL>LOOOEDYUUKZL:DX :rofl:"

"What?"

"GUSY GHYS GUIS GUYS SO YTODSAY I WASD AT THE SOPERMAKET BUYNG BANANS AND CROOD OIL WEN I SPOTED A SENTINT CELING FAN GROWNG LEGZ AND IT STERTED SPINING SO FEAST IT CRETED BLACK HOLE N IT SUCED MEH IN AND TEH INSDE OF DA BACK HOL LOKED LIEK YELOW HALWAYS WTH BUZING LITES SO ME WNT 2 DERK ARAE ND TERE WAZ A ENTY THIGY RUNING @ M3H DAT TOR ME A PART AD I DIEDZ!!11!1 !! :rofl: WEN I WOEK UP I SAW TEH NETER FOM MINCRAFT AN THER WAS R3D GUI WTH FERK AN HE KIL ME AGAN AN I SAD "U A TROL STEW PID" ND TEN RED MAN SNET MEH TO SOOPER DOOPER NTHER WICH LOKED LIEK A JSTIN BEAVER CONCIRT AN TEH MUSIK WS/ES SOOOO00oO BaD I ExPODED!11!1!NUEFCROIFPD IKBJGFK48EES"

(i found this on a 2003 forum board don't judge me)

Unpopular opinion but GTA IV is the single greatest achievement in human history, and I genuinely believe future civilisations will look back upon its release as the defining moment at which humanity reached the absolute pinnacle of artistic expression before inevitably entering a period of irreversible cultural decline. We have built pyramids, landed on the moon, developed the internet and mapped the human genome, yet somehow none of these accomplishments have managed to replicate the sheer magnificence of driving a stolen Cognoscenti through the streets of Liberty City at three in the morning whilst listening to Soviet Connection. There is simply something fundamentally wrong with a person who can experience that and then load up GTA V without feeling an overwhelming sense of spiritual inadequacy. GTA IV is not a game you play; it is a game you experience, a game you carry with you, a game that fundamentally alters your understanding of what interactive entertainment is capable of achieving. The writing, the atmosphere, the physics, the radio, the city itself, the rain, the pedestrians, the cars that handle as (FART AND SHIDDY) though they have been individually engineered to punish your every mistake: every single element contributes to a masterpiece so incomprehensibly ahead of its time that I sometimes wonder whether Rockstar accidentally created something they were never meant to create. Niko Bellic is not merely a protagonist; he is the culmination of thousands of years of human storytelling, a character whose existential exhaustion communicates more about the human condition than an entire library of philosophical literature. His struggle to escape his past, his disillusionment with the American Dream and his gradual realisation that the world he has entered is every bit as corrupt as the one he left behind are themes that would make Dostoevsky weep with envy. And yet, somehow, this man is also expected to answer his cousin’s phone calls every five minutes because Roman has decided that the most appropriate time to discuss bowling is immediately after Niko has committed several felonies and is being pursued by half the police department. This is not a contradiction in the writing; this is the human experience in its purest form. The driving physics alone deserve their own place in the Louvre. GTA V players will tell you that a car should respond instantly to your inputs, that cornering should be intuitive and that driving at high speeds should feel exhilarating. These people have fundamentally misunderstood the purpose of a motor vehicle. A car should have weight. A car should have momentum. A car should demand respect. If I cannot accidentally oversteer into a parked taxi, bounce off a lamppost and watch my character fly through the windscreen with the grace of a medieval trebuchet, then I am not participating in an authentic driving simulation. I am playing a children’s toy. Every collision in GTA IV is a masterclass in applied physics, every pedestrian stumble a reminder that Rockstar understood the fragile relationship between flesh, gravity and poor decision-making better than any developer before or since. I have witnessed NASA engineers discuss orbital mechanics with less conviction than GTA IV fans discuss the superiority of its ragdoll physics, and frankly, I trust the latter more. Then there is Liberty City, the greatest fictional city ever created, a sprawling monument to human misery that manages to make every street corner feel like it has a history, every building feel like it has a mortgage and every pedestrian feel like they are one unfortunate interaction away from filing an insurance claim. Los Santos may be beautiful, but Liberty City is alive in a way that cannot be replicated through sunsets and mountains. It is a city that has seen things, a city that has suffered, a city that looks as though it has been paying off the same loan since 1978. You do not simply explore Liberty City; you become part of its ecosystem, another exhausted individual attempting to navigate a world that has no particular interest in your happiness. And the soundtrack is nothing short of divine intervention. The moment Soviet Connection begins playing, the distinction between video game and high art ceases to exist. I am no longer sitting in my living room holding a controller; I am experiencing the inevitable collapse of modern civilisation through the eyes of a fictional immigrant whose cousin will not stop talking about recreational activities. I could spend the entirety of my life driving in circles around Broker, listening to the radio and watching the rain fall upon the streets, and I would consider that time better spent than any conceivable alternative. GTA IV does not need to constantly bombard you with cinematic music to tell you that something important is happening. It understands that sometimes the most profound artistic statement is a quiet street, a distant siren and the sound of a man getting into a car he has absolutely no intention of returning to its rightful owner. Meanwhile, GTA V has the nerve to offer me a beautiful countryside, an enormous mountain, three protagonists and a functioning social life for its characters, as though these are desirable qualities in a video game. I do not want happiness. I want Liberty City. I want to feel the economic recession in the suspension of my vehicle. I want the colour palette to resemble a damp newspaper found behind a takeaway. I want every journey to feel like an endurance test designed by an Eastern European philosopher with a personal grievance against the concept of joy. And above all, I want Roman to call me at the precise moment I have finally achieved inner peace, because true greatness must always be accompanied by the reminder that peace is temporary and bowling is eternal. There are games that entertain you, games that move you and games that change your life. GTA IV does all three, whilst also allowing you to launch a man into the stratosphere because he had the misfortune of standing too close to a moving vehicle. It is a game of extraordinary contradictions, a work of art that can make you contemplate the meaninglessness of existence one moment and spend the next twenty minutes deliberately crashing motorbikes into walls because the physics engine (homosexual Anthony)is simply too beautiful to ignore. This is the genius of Rockstar at its absolute peak: the ability to create a world so compelling that even its most ridiculous mechanics feel like essential components of a grand artistic vision. I refuse to entertain the notion that GTA IV is merely one of the best games ever made. It is the standard by which all other interactive media must be judged, the benchmark against which every future open-world game will inevitably be found wanting. When the sun eventually burns out, when the oceans have evaporated and the final remnants of human civilisation have turned to dust, I would like to believe that somewhere, beneath the ruins of everything we ever built, a functioning Xbox 360 will remain, its fans spinning with the determination of a dying star, waiting for somebody to load up GTA IV one final time. And as the opening notes of Soviet Connection echo through the empty universe, a voice will emerge from the darkness, asking the only question that has ever truly mattered: ‘You want to go bowling?’

And for that reason I voted GTA San Andreas.

Wait… the song… don't dance, don't dance… I-I can't control it… NANI?!

तूने मेरे बारे में क्या कहा, भोंसड़ी के? सुन, मैं नेवी सील के दर्जे में पहला आया, और मैं अल-क़ाएदा पे ढेर सारे धावों में शामिल था, और तीन सौ से ज़्यादा लोगों को मारा है। छापामारी सीखी है, और पूरी अमेरिकी सेना में सबसे अच्छा स्नाइपर हूँ। मुझे तू सिर्फ़ एक और निशाना ही दिखता है। ऐसे कमाल दिखाके तुझे धरती से मिटाऊँगा जैसे दुनिया ने कभी नहीं देखा हो। तू सोचता है कि तू मुझे ऐसी बकवास इंटरनेट पे बोलके निकल सकता है? फिर से सोच, साले। मेरे बोलते-बोलते अपने अमेरिका-भर के जासूस-जाल से मिलके रहा हूँ, और तेरा आइपी ढूँढा जा रहा है, तो अब से तूफ़ान की तैयारी कर, कुत्ते, वो तूफ़ान जो तेरी जान को मिटायेगा। तू मरेगा, छोटे। मैं कहीं भी हो सकता हूँ, कभी भी, और तुझे सात सौ से ज़्यादा तरीक़ों से मार सकता हूँ, और वह भी ख़ाली मेरे हाथों से। मैं सिर्फ़ निहत्थी लड़ाई में रवाँ नहीं हूँ, बल्कि मेरे पास अमेरिका के एकजुट राजों के मरीन-कोर के पूरे बारूद-ख़ाने पर पहुँच है और उसका पूरी तरह से इस्तेमाल करूँगा तुझे इस दुनिया से मिटाने के लिए, गधे। अगर तू सिर्फ़ समझ सकता कि तेरी “होशियार बात” कैसा बदला तेरे ऊपर लाता, शायद तू साली जीभ पे लगाम रखता। पर नहीं रख पाया, नहीं रखा, और अब क़ीमत चुका रहा है तू, साले नालायक़। तुझपे उबाल का गुह फैलाऊँगा, और तू उसमें डूबेगा। तू मरेगा, छोटे।

Welcome to the baroness Let me show you my masterpiece safety first get out of my sight here comes the queen I am the cosmos lifting You are dead burn never show fear no matter the odds sleep time now play with me I’ll crush them you will be judged speaks Japanese I move at your whim Nashala ego sum Ira domini Let’s dance The shadow calls and I answer Don’t mess with New York here’s the grand finale the hunt begins releasing spirit this hunt is over Get them Maurice In here I’m the king oh I see them Itani Lo Sahn your soul is mine Wrangling them Lifting off Get ready for them petrify I’d hide if I were you oh god not again who’s the king of the rats baby I live again affliction I believe you are missing something

On my flight back to my homeland.

I’m seated next to two morbidly obese negroes. I’m too tall as it stands and I can barely fit inside this contraption. They take up half of my seat space and they smell like Africa. The staff had to bring them seatbelt extenders. Adjacent to me is a screaming Mexican child. His t50 stare guarantees him the genetic potential of a custodian.

I attempt to distract myself with some metaphysics and I open my Evola book. But here we go again. Another scoundrel with sweatpants comes up right next to me. Her big black ass right in my face. Ridiculous!

The stewardess looks at me flirtatiously. She is pleasant but her phenotype is too ambiguous. You will not gain access to my precious Anglo genetics.

One of the few tolerable characters walks by. He is an Asian and his sweater is clean. However, I can see the jungle within him and I’m not impressed.

Just then, little Pedro comes up and offers me a different seat. I am saved!

I will be home soon and the FroJax brothers will be reunited.

I used to masturbate onto birds at a local park. Not a thing that I'm particularly proud of but I became quite good at it. I was taking zinc supplements so I was shooting massive loads and it became something of a sport to me. For anyone interested here is your best strategy. first, you need to find an isolated spot so you don't become a sex offender. I found a short kind of channel area where I saw the pigeons would congregate. Next, you arouse yourself. I was usually content with envisioning the occasional jogging lady coming over and taking a shit on my chest and that was enough to fuel the fire but if you're not as sexually charged as me just take some porn on the go. After you're good an horny, you get some bread. My pigeons preferred white bread but healthier birds might have a taste for honey wheat or maybe even multigrain. Fat, unhealthy birds are slower and easier to hit so remember that. Once you are seated on the bench and ready to do the deed, whip your roosevelt out and scatter bread out within a few feet of you. use your judgement based on how far you know you can cum. I was a lonely and depraved soul who could hit targets the size of a thimble at distances up to 4 feet. You wait for the pigeons to begin eating and to get comfortable with your presence. At this point, you want to coo gently and talk sensually to them to gain their trust. Now you're finally ready to cum on your bird. This is a tough part because the rapid motion of masturbation is very frightening to the birds, so you have to be subtle. Once you master a technique, you simply wind it up and let it go, aiming depending on your past cumming experiences. I always came high so I would aim for the neck of the bird and catch it right in the face. It's an extremely satisfying and erotic feeling, seeing those birds reel around covered in cum and maybe even transporting it to other places in the city. Either way I haven't done it in years but every now and then I catch myself gazing wistfully at a flock of birds, cock throbbing and waiting for them to land close to me.

Why are there 8 billion humans instead of 1 huge mega-human? Like, seriously, who decided that we needed 8 billion separate humans instead of just making one absolutely massive human who could do everything at once? Imagine waking up one day and finding out that the entire human population is just one giant dude lying across the Earth, with his head in Asia, his feet in America, and his hand accidentally slapping Australia every time he scratches his nose. Honestly, it would be kind of funny, but unfortunately, biology and physics had to ruin the fun. First of all, a human body cannot just keep growing forever like someone stretching a picture on their phone because the bigger you get, the harder it becomes to support your own weight. Our bones would basically give up, our muscles would struggle, and our heart would have to work harder than a student trying to finish an entire syllabus the night before an exam. Speaking of the heart, imagine it trying to pump blood through a body thousands of kilometres long. By the time the blood reached the mega-human's toes, the poor guy might have already forgotten why he wanted to move them in the first place. Then there is the brain problem. Humans control their bodies using signals that travel through nerves, but those signals take time to move. If our mega-human wanted to scratch his head, the message might have to travel halfway across the planet before his hand even started moving. Imagine having an itch on your nose and waiting three business days for your finger to arrive. Absolutely unacceptable. Another problem is food. Eight billion humans already eat an unbelievable amount of food, so imagine one giant human needing enough food to keep its entire gigantic body alive. The grocery bill would be so massive that even the richest person on Earth would start crying. It would probably eat entire farms for breakfast and drink lakes like they were juice boxes. And don't even get me started on the bathroom situation. Where would all the waste go? We would need to invent a toilet bigger than entire cities, and the plumbing bill would probably bankrupt the planet. Also, imagine the mega-human getting sick. If it caught a cold, would the entire planet have to listen to it sneeze? Would hurricanes suddenly become its sneezes? Would earthquakes happen because it rolled over in bed? We do not have enough tissues, doctors, or painkillers for this nonsense. Besides, nature does not really work by asking, "What's the biggest thing I can possibly create?" Evolution basically keeps whatever works well enough to survive and reproduce. Humans survived by being separate individuals who can live in different places, find food, solve problems, and reproduce. If one human gets sick, the other humans can still carry on with their lives. But if there were only one mega-human and something went seriously wrong with it, congratulations, humanity would have put all its eggs in one extremely large basket. There would be no backup humans, no second opinion, and definitely no spare mega-human in the garage. And honestly, having eight billion different people also means having eight billion different brains, personalities, ideas, and ways of thinking. Sure, humans argue a lot, but imagine one giant human arguing with itself about what to eat for dinner. It could take the whole planet to agree on pizza.

I never understood western beauty standards, seriously! It's almost like men don't have taste.

If you are a tall, chubby woman, not obese but chunky, just know that you're a Goddess, with a big fucking G. You're like a milf but younger. When in the bible they were refering to a precious woman, you were that woman. And you get bonus points if you're a brunette.

I stand by it, a big but elegant woman is the best thing that God created. If a woman can carry her man, she's the one. If I had a wife like that, I would crack her every fucking day.

I fucking love meat ya know? I didn't ask for just bones.

I swear on God, you'll never have the pain of having a period ever again!

^{Now, you can send me messages privately if you interested, gorgeous.}

To make a fish walk on land, we must use feet so it can walk. To do this, calmly harvest these feet from a nearby member of homo sapiens species. They have excellent feet. Now when cutting be careful, you don't want to damage the nerves as we need to link those into the fish later. While doing this make sure the fish is alive. You carefully remove all the flesh from a fish's fins, but you leave the nerves and blood veins, then you mark the feet say 4 inches down, and then remove all the flesh from them, leaving the nerves and veins free, and you must join these to branching blood vessels and nerves you probably have lieing around if your into this kinda thing.

With all that ready, the fish should have legs and you can grant it the ability to walk if you can properly grow the feet into the fishes flesh , and teach it motor skills