———————————————————————— 🇬🇧 3Head You have entered BREXIT. Type 3Head to become a citizen. ————————————————————————
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
More Copypastas
Amogus 700 years in the future
Imagine, 700 years in the future, through some last vestige of the internet kept in an underground server, a notification miraculously appears on your device (which has been preserved in nuclear dust from the 5th world war). One night, an alien working a late shift at the museum of archeology notices the cracked screen suddenly light up, and upon it, one word arises from the battered code: Amogus. They do not know what this word means. They ponder it deeply. They scour the ancient tomes, desperate to understand its mystifying origin. It drives them mad. Is it a primeval cipher? The motto of a bygone civilization? A message from God? Night after night they study it by candlelight. They flip through pages in books so old, the slightest cough would turn the paper to a fine off-white powder. The answer is nowhere to be found. And then they are struck by a revelation: I was not meant to know this word. Its esoteric nature escapes my grasp for a reason. What if its meaning is too enlightening to bear? With this revelation comes anger. Spite. Despair. Why shouldn't I understand it?! What cosmic forces are there at play to keep me from such knowledge?! In a fit of desperate rage, they shatter your device against a wall and exclaim, arms raised to the heavens: "This is literally 1984!" Silence... Their pleas are unanswered. Sadly, in the end, their inability to unlock the word's meaning drives them to suicide. Its secrets are never known. So I ask you this: is it better to die having never understood the true mind-bending nature of Amogus, or to be driven mad by the little spaceman in his blood-red suit? If you knew enlightenment would render you incapable of living on this mortal earth without making daily references to a game of space mafia, would you accept it? With knowledge comes power, but also endless suffering. Choose wisely, and be wary when standing at the edge of that great abyss we call "the Truth," lest you fall too deep.
Imagine, 700 years in the future, through some last vestige of the internet kept in an underground server, a notification miraculously appears on your device (which has been preserved in nuclear dust from the 5th world war). One night, an alien working a late shift at the museum of archeology notices the cracked screen suddenly light up, and upon it, one word arises from the battered code: Amogus. They do not know what this word means. They ponder it deeply. They scour the ancient tomes, desperate to understand its mystifying origin. It drives them mad. Is it a primeval cipher? The motto of a bygone civilization? A message from God? Night after night they study it by candlelight. They flip through pages in books so old, the slightest cough would turn the paper to a fine off-white powder. The answer is nowhere to be found. And then they are struck by a revelation: I was not meant to know this word. Its esoteric nature escapes my grasp for a reason. What if its meaning is too enlightening to bear? With this revelation comes anger. Spite. Despair. Why shouldn't I understand it?! What cosmic forces are there at play to keep me from such knowledge?! In a fit of desperate rage, they shatter your device against a wall and exclaim, arms raised to the heavens: "This is literally 1984!" Silence... Their pleas are unanswered. Sadly, in the end, their inability to unlock the word's meaning drives them to suicide. Its secrets are never known. So I ask you this: is it better to die having never understood the true mind-bending nature of Amogus, or to be driven mad by the little spaceman in his blood-red suit? If you knew enlightenment would render you incapable of living on this mortal earth without making daily references to a game of space mafia, would you accept it? With knowledge comes power, but also endless suffering. Choose wisely, and be wary when standing at the edge of that great abyss we call "the Truth," lest you fall too deep.
EU is known as the fastest region to arrive at the Airport
twitchquotes:EMEA “Earliest Movement to Every Airport” is known as the fastest region to arrive at the Airport. Since they gave up on the Valorant Masters, they are investing in Speedruns. In particular they are current worldrecord holders in Airport Any % and Airport Latam Any %
EMEA “Earliest Movement to Every Airport” is known as the fastest region to arrive at the Airport. Since they gave up on the Valorant Masters, they are investing in Speedruns. In particular they are current worldrecord holders in Airport Any % and Airport Latam Any %
twitchquotes:Hi Kripp, sleazy video game developer here. I understand you are willing to sell yourself out like a cheap Romanian hooker to any two-bit game development outfit as long as they dangle some shekels in front of your beady little eyes? Great! Because I have this brilliant game in beta testing right now called "Watching Paint Dry" and I am willing to pay you $5.00 USD to play it for 24 hours straight. Let me know what you think, you glorious sellout!
Hi Kripp, sleazy video game developer here. I understand you are willing to sell yourself out like a cheap Romanian hooker to any two-bit game development outfit as long as they dangle some shekels in front of your beady little eyes? Great! Because I have this brilliant game in beta testing right now called "Watching Paint Dry" and I am willing to pay you $5.00 USD to play it for 24 hours straight. Let me know what you think, you glorious sellout!
my face when americans call chips "french fries"
>my face when americans call chips "french fries"
>my face when americans call crisps "chips"
>my face when americans call chocolate globbernaughts "candy bars"
>my face when americans call motorized rollinghams "cars"
>my face when americans call merry fizzlebombs "fireworks"
>my face when americans call wunderbahboxes a "PC"
>my face when americans call meat water "gravy"
>my face when americans call electro-rope "power cables"
>my face when americans call beef wellington ensemble with lettuce a "burger"
>my face when americans call whimsy flimsy mark and scribblers "pens"
>my face when americans call twisting plankhandles "doorknobs"
>my face when americans call breaddystack a "sandwich"
>my face when americans call their hoighty toighty tippy typers "keyboards"
>my face when americans call nutty-gum and fruit spleggings "peanut butter and jelly"
>my face when americans call an upsy stairsy the "escalator"
>my face when americans call a knittedy wittedy sheepity sleepity a "sweater"
>my face when americans call a rickedy-pop a "gear shift"
>my face when americans call a choco chip bucky wicky as a "cookie"
>my face when americans call a pip pip gollywock a "screwdriver"
>my face when americans call a rooty tooty point-n-shooty a "gun"
>my face when americans call ceiling-bright a "Lightbulb"
>my face when americans call blimpy bounce bounce a "ball"
>my face when americans call a slippery dippery long mover a "snake"
>my face when americans call cobble-stone-clippity-clops "roads"
>my face when americans call chips "french fries"
>my face when americans call crisps "chips"
>my face when americans call chocolate globbernaughts "candy bars"
>my face when americans call motorized rollinghams "cars"
>my face when americans call merry fizzlebombs "fireworks"
>my face when americans call wunderbahboxes a "PC"
>my face when americans call meat water "gravy"
>my face when americans call electro-rope "power cables"
>my face when americans call beef wellington ensemble with lettuce a "burger"
>my face when americans call whimsy flimsy mark and scribblers "pens"
>my face when americans call twisting plankhandles "doorknobs"
>my face when americans call breaddystack a "sandwich"
>my face when americans call their hoighty toighty tippy typers "keyboards"
>my face when americans call nutty-gum and fruit spleggings "peanut butter and jelly"
>my face when americans call an upsy stairsy the "escalator"
>my face when americans call a knittedy wittedy sheepity sleepity a "sweater"
>my face when americans call a rickedy-pop a "gear shift"
>my face when americans call a choco chip bucky wicky as a "cookie"
>my face when americans call a pip pip gollywock a "screwdriver"
>my face when americans call a rooty tooty point-n-shooty a "gun"
>my face when americans call ceiling-bright a "Lightbulb"
>my face when americans call blimpy bounce bounce a "ball"
>my face when americans call a slippery dippery long mover a "snake"
>my face when americans call cobble-stone-clippity-clops "roads"