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[Copypasta]Guys chill with the copy pastas
twitchquotes:Guys chill with the copy pastas. We have already read the message once, we don’t need to see it again. Some people are actually trying to send unique messages, please be considerate
Guys chill with the copy pastas. We have already read the message once, we don’t need to see it again. Some people are actually trying to send unique messages, please be considerate
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
When Cybrix buys a Pepperoni pizza
twitchquotes:When Cybrix buys a Pepperoni pizza, its seen as a bit of greasy fun. BUT when Kripp orders a 420 GreaseMaster Pro 5000 garbage pizza pie with 6 different types of pepperoni, spiceified sauce with non-drip collection tray, together with optional built in Cheese crust, hes called Fattarrian
When Cybrix buys a Pepperoni pizza, its seen as a bit of greasy fun. BUT when Kripp orders a 420 GreaseMaster Pro 5000 garbage pizza pie with 6 different types of pepperoni, spiceified sauce with non-drip collection tray, together with optional built in Cheese crust, hes called Fattarrian
You watch her as she brushes her hair. She’s humming a song you can’t quite hear and smiling to herself. Not for the first time, you wonder why this person chose you.
She turns. “What do you want for Christmas?” You want to scream Save your money!, but you only shrug. “Nothing, really.”
“Nothing?” She crawls into bed and touches your leg. “Are you sure?” Again, you wonder why this person chose you.
As she takes the weight of you in her hand, your mind wanders. To your puts. They’ll expire worthless, like you. After several minutes of failing to conjure your manhood, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
Stonks only go up.
But you don’t.
You watch her as she brushes her hair. She’s humming a song you can’t quite hear and smiling to herself. Not for the first time, you wonder why this person chose you.
She turns. “What do you want for Christmas?” You want to scream Save your money!, but you only shrug. “Nothing, really.”
“Nothing?” She crawls into bed and touches your leg. “Are you sure?” Again, you wonder why this person chose you.
As she takes the weight of you in her hand, your mind wanders. To your puts. They’ll expire worthless, like you. After several minutes of failing to conjure your manhood, she asks, “What’s wrong?”
Stonks only go up.
But you don’t.