[Copypasta] I was born with glass bones and paper skin

twitchquotes: haHAA I was born with glass bones and paper skin. Every morning I break my legs, and every afternoon I break my arms. At night, I lie awake in agony until my heart attacks put me to sleep. haHAA
twitch chat
August 2017
I used to be a real ad
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Hey man, it's Mark from History 101

twitch chat
September 2015
Kripp

BOGGED

⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠋⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢹⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠄⠄⠄⣰⣿⣿⣶⣾⣾⣶⣦⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣸⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣇⢠⡄⠁⠄⠄⠄⠈⣭⠄⠄⠄⠄⢠⣴⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡝⢹⣷⣤⣦⣤⣴⣴⣿⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠗⠄⢀⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠷⠂⠈⠙⠛⣿⣿⢟⣽⠿⠿⠌⠙⠛⠄⠄⠄⠄⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⡋⠁⠄⣾⢠⣶⣧⠘⣿⢿⣷⢄⡀⣠⣴⠿⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⡶⠶⡛⡋⢉⣿⣧⠄⠈⠛⠋⠑⠉⠁⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠨⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⡋⠄⠸⠃⠄⣼⣿⣿⣆⠄⠄⠐⠒⠂⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⣾⡟⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠅⠄⠄⠄⢰⡿⠿⠿⠛⢢⠄⣶⣶⣴⣶⡶⠄⢀⣤⣾⣿⡟⠄⠈⠻⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⡀⠄⠉⠁⠁⢀⣴⣿⣿⣿⠟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈
ascii art
January 2020

This player doesn't even use a monitor

I've seen [insert player here] play, he doesn't even use a monitor. He visualizes the map in a detailed rendering, completely in his mind. He has a biological wallhack; his godlike perception highlights all enemies within light-years. His eyes are closed as his mouse gracefully swerves across the table, making immaculate twitches as he flicks from head to head. The bullets that escape his gun barrel are surgical; each making a deadly strike in between his opponent's eyes.
July 2022

CSGO

Valorant

forsenWut

⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦ ⠟⠉⠉⠉⠉⠉⠛⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣩⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣶⣮⣭⣛ ⣤⠶⢒⣒⣒⣲⣤⣷⣮⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⣸⣿⣿⠟⣋⣭⣭⣤⣤⣭⣙⠛⢿⣿⣿ ⠁⠈⠉⠍⡉⡙⠛⠻⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⡏⣾⣿⣿⡟⠄⢠⣴⠄⣠⠄⠉⠉⠛⢦⡙⢿ ⣦⣤⣙⣚⢓⣛⣋⠤⠜⢱⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿⣿⢡⣶⣬⣍⠙⠉⢐⣀⣀⣤⡴⠛⣨ ⣦⣭⣍⣉⣉⣭⣴⣿⢃⣿⣿⣿⣿⣌⣛⣛⠛⠘⣿⣿⣟⣙⠛⣛⢛⣉⣀⣠⣾⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡿⢋⣼⣿⠋⣼⡿⠿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠙⠛⠃⠈⠛⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣴⣿⡿⠋⠘⠛⢿⣦⣿⣧⣤⣀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⡟⠋⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠉⣸⣿⡏⠉⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠻⣿⣷⣦⣄⠉ ⣿⣿⣿⣇⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢰⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠹⣿⣿⡏⣰ ⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣦⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣸⣿ ⠄⠘⠁⠄⠙⠿⣿⣿⣧⡤⠄⠄⠄⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⢰⣿⣿ ⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠐⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⡀⣀⣀⣩⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⠄⠿⠈⠋ ⣿⣆⠄⠄⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄ ⣿⣿⣧⡀⠄⠄⠄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠉⠉⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄
ascii art
November 2021
Forsen

Emote

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."
January 2021

Classic

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