When I first saw this post, I was expecting an image of a more conventionally sexual nature.
As such, as every man is known to do, I wearily broke out the petroleum jelly and began yanking the noodle, choking the chicken, beating the meat, and what have you. Imagine my suprise, then, when, upon opening this post, I saw images of another, seperate nature.
I initially bemoaned the lost chance to release the kraken, but I became revitalized when, gazing down at my erect member, I realized I was now harder than I had every been in my life. As strands of precum glistened on my glans, I proceeded about my task with a renewed vigor.
I began moderately at first, but as time went on, I found such banality unable to tickle my fancy in the manner to which I had become accustomed. It was my wish, nay, my need, to go ever faster, and go faster I did. The quiet slapping of my hand hitting my nutsack turned into a hum, growing ever more shrill as the speed of my wanking approached levels unseen in the history of man.
As the stroking reached hypersonic speeds, a large sonic boom echoed throughout my bedchamber, knocking over my various My Little Pony figurines and tearing my fedora apart at the seams. I knew now what atheletes spoke of when they extoled the "runner's high", what politicians feel when victory comes as the votes roll in. My cold, purposeless existence had been broken, and I had found a glorious vision with which to file the gaping void of my wasted and meaningless past.
As my erotic acceleration reached ungodly proportions, I saw the meaning of life flash in my vision. Blue light filled the room, the photonic equivalent of a sonic boom that marked my hand's surpassment of light speed. Past, present, and future collapsed into one, and I became master of all things. I was with Kek, and Kek was with me, around me, within me. I could now not only view the memes, but taste them, smell them, sense them, indeed, in ways that mere human languages have no means to describe.
Finally, at the ceasation of a virtuous eternity, an echo, a noise not of this world, filled the apartment, fading with a divine decrescendo to a whisper. Gobs of holy sploodge erupted from my pisshole, blanketing three whole city blocks in their diluvian enormity. Children playing ball outside drowned on the elixir of my testes, experiencing in their last moments the heat-death of the universe and the creation of a new, almost identical one in its place.
I have ascended to godhood, mortal creatures. I am the speaker of scripture, the whisperer of desires, the artificer of reality. All flows through me, and is permeated with me, and returns, in time, to my divine being. Peace be with you, oh ephemeral, transient creatures of flesh and blood. Memes await you in the next life.