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[Copypasta]Europe is the Eastern USA
twitchquotes:Europe was founded in 1848 by Walker Texas Ranger when he rode a horse across the Atlantic, he called it "Eastern USA" which was eventually abbreviated as just "EU"
Europe was founded in 1848 by Walker Texas Ranger when he rode a horse across the Atlantic, he called it "Eastern USA" which was eventually abbreviated as just "EU"
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
More Classic Copypastas
I miss the old Harambe
twitchquotes:I miss the old Harambe. Straight from the zoo Harambe. Eating his food Harambe. No attitude Harambe. I hate the new Harambe. Shot by a dude Harambe. The Youtube views Harambe. Up in the news Harambe. I miss the sweet Harambe. Playing with kids Harambe. I gotta say at that time I'd like to meet Harambe. See I invented Harambe. It wasnt any Harambes. And now i look and look around and there's no more Harambes.
I miss the old Harambe. Straight from the zoo Harambe. Eating his food Harambe. No attitude Harambe. I hate the new Harambe. Shot by a dude Harambe. The Youtube views Harambe. Up in the news Harambe. I miss the sweet Harambe. Playing with kids Harambe. I gotta say at that time I'd like to meet Harambe. See I invented Harambe. It wasnt any Harambes. And now i look and look around and there's no more Harambes.
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
"Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
"Got a spare?" she asks.
"What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
"Conversation with me, duh."
I laugh.
"What's so funny?" she protests.
"Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
"You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
"What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
"Teaching, I think."
"And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
"Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
"Bermuda," I say.
"Oh wow. That's lovely."
"It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
"What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
"I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."
FLIP THAT TABLE
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ FLIP THAT TABLE.
┻━┻ ︵ ヽ(°□°ヽ) FLIP THIS TABLE.
┻━┻ ︵ ＼\('0')/／ ︵ ┻━┻ FLIP ALL THE TABLES
ಠ_ಠ Son... ಠ_ಠ Put. ಠ__ಠ The tables. ಠ___ಠ Back.
(╮°-°)╮┳━┳
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ NEVER!!!!
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ FLIP THAT TABLE.
┻━┻ ︵ ヽ(°□°ヽ) FLIP THIS TABLE.
┻━┻ ︵ ＼\('0')/／ ︵ ┻━┻ FLIP ALL THE TABLES
ಠ_ಠ Son... ಠ_ಠ Put. ಠ__ಠ The tables. ಠ___ಠ Back.
(╮°-°)╮┳━┳
(╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻ NEVER!!!!
It's funny seeing the minds in chat
twitchquotes:It's funny seeing the "minds" in chat entertained by a virtual children’s card game. 🤣 Whenever you idiots “Pog Champ,” I am reading the works of Plato, etc. Guess who will get a better job in 5 years?
It's funny seeing the "minds" in chat entertained by a virtual children’s card game. 🤣 Whenever you idiots “Pog Champ,” I am reading the works of Plato, etc. Guess who will get a better job in 5 years?
Response to "go fuck yourself"
What if I'm already fucking myself? Behind this simple insult hides a universal paradox that may put your sexuality in question. Let's do a simple thought experiment: imagine us two standing in front of each other. I, of course, am wearing a pair of jeans, that are covering my genitals and my butt. You then command me to "go fuck myself". I may be fucking myself already. I may as well not be fucking myself already. Until my dick and its position relative to my ass is observed, it is simultaneously in my ass, but also outside of it - thus, it stays in superposition. The moment you lay eyes on my penis, both states collide with each other and become either one. You may have already guessed what the problem here is. As soon as a single photon reflected by my dick enters either one of your eyes, you become gay. The only way to avoid this is to not observe my penis. But if you don't look at it, then you will never know if your insult had any effect, thus rendering it meaningless. Since you have already made the insult, you are now, too, in superposition - you're either wrong, or gay. It's unfortunate, really - you dug a hole for yourself without even knowing it. All you can do now is accept it, and learn from your mistakes.
What if I'm already fucking myself? Behind this simple insult hides a universal paradox that may put your sexuality in question. Let's do a simple thought experiment: imagine us two standing in front of each other. I, of course, am wearing a pair of jeans, that are covering my genitals and my butt. You then command me to "go fuck myself". I may be fucking myself already. I may as well not be fucking myself already. Until my dick and its position relative to my ass is observed, it is simultaneously in my ass, but also outside of it - thus, it stays in superposition. The moment you lay eyes on my penis, both states collide with each other and become either one. You may have already guessed what the problem here is. As soon as a single photon reflected by my dick enters either one of your eyes, you become gay. The only way to avoid this is to not observe my penis. But if you don't look at it, then you will never know if your insult had any effect, thus rendering it meaningless. Since you have already made the insult, you are now, too, in superposition - you're either wrong, or gay. It's unfortunate, really - you dug a hole for yourself without even knowing it. All you can do now is accept it, and learn from your mistakes.
