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More Classic Copypastas
I have to print out chat in order to read it
twitchquotes:Hey guys, my monitor isn't working. I have to print out chat in order to read it. The paper and ink are really expensive, so please don't spam! Thank you.
Hey guys, my monitor isn't working. I have to print out chat in order to read it. The paper and ink are really expensive, so please don't spam! Thank you.
VAPE TEST
twitchquotes:VAPE TEST ()_Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _) If the arms touch the vape, you are LIT β β
VAPE TEST AMPEnergyCherry ()_Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _Μ _) If the arms touch the vape, you are LIT β VapeNation β
Pretending I'm Ahri
twitchquotes:Sometimes I like to put 9 towels into my anus and pretend I'm Ahri. Please no coperino and pasra macaroni, thank you! Sorry for bad England, I walk many Egyption miles to come watch.
Sometimes I like to put 9 towels into my anus and pretend I'm Ahri. Please no coperino and pasra macaroni, thank you! Sorry for bad England, I walk many Egyption miles to come watch.
What is inside that taco? Oh no it's REYNAD
twitchquotes: WHAT IS INSIDE THAT TACO OH NO IT'S REYNAD
TBTacoLeft TBCheesePull TBTacoRight WHAT IS INSIDE THAT TACO TBTacoLeft PJSalt TBTacoRight OH NO IT'S REYNAD
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."