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[Copypasta]My e-girl e-cheated on me
twitchquotes:My e-girl e-cheated on me after an entire e-day of e-dating and now I'm e-sad. On another e-note, e-girls please send in your e-resumes, I am currently looking to e-fill an e-position.
My e-girl e-cheated on me after an entire e-day of e-dating and now I'm e-sad. On another e-note, e-girls please send in your e-resumes, I am currently looking to e-fill an e-position.
I used to be a real ad
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The mighty DONGER
twitchquotes:ᕙ ╱ He is faster ᕙ ╱ He is stronger ᕙ ╱ Who is he? ᕙ ╱ The mighty DONGER ᕙ ╱
ᕙ DansGame ╱ He is faster ᕙ DansGame ╱ He is stronger ᕙ DansGame ╱ Who is he? ᕙ DansGame ╱ The mighty DONGER ᕙ DansGame ╱
I hate, hate, hate coffee culture
I hate, hate, hate coffee culture. I can't stand people saying, "Oh, I can't do anything until I get a warm cup of coffee in me." Shut up. Being a former smoker, I recognize the addiction and subsequent irritability of coffee drinkers and it bugs me to no end that caffeine gets glossed over as an addictive substance, or even fucking celebrated to some extent. Those people who brag about needing 5 expresso shots (sorry, esssspresso) a day need an intervention, not a nod of approval. Seriously, all you coffee drinkers are the biggest group of fucking enablers I've ever seen.
When doing group activities, like camping, I loathe waiting for others to start their day after a morning ritual that hogs counter space, or propane, or dirties good clean water. I hate the sleepy look in peoples' eyes as they grasp their cup of stimulant that they wouldn't need had they never started drinking it in the first place.
There's an entire fucking cupboard in my kitchen dedicated to stupid coffee mugs and their dumb sayings staring back at me despite living in a household where only one person drinks coffee. Why? And the dishes. Since nearly every person drinks coffee, inevitably us non-coffee drinkers are going to have to clean up after your morning fix. Seriously, I've done so many goddamned cleanings of coffee mugs if I had a dime for every one, I'd probably have enough for a Starbucks franchise.
And don't even get me started on Starbucks. Godamned devil business slanging legal crack for decades, hogging good real estate so addicts have a place to slurp up and get their morning shit in before work.
Lastly, I despise the amalgam of ways people cook up their black powder and then talk up the flavor as though it tastes like something other than a dirty sock. That's your addiction speaking. You want to know why you need to dump half an udder of cream in your cup? It's because cream is fucking delicious and when combined with your filthy water, makes it somewhat bearable.
And your stupid machines that creak and groan through the quietude of my morning can go fuck themselves. Talk about a waste of counter-space. And the spent black stimulant granules that spill over onto the counter, staining the grout drives me nuts.
And lastly, the goddamned keurig cups or whatever they're called are one of humanity's worst inventions, sandwiched between Glyphosate and Joe Rogan. At least the meth addicts don't deposit a plastic remnant that will persist in landfills for hundreds of years spreading micro-plastics into our environment every time they need to get high.
I hate, hate, hate coffee culture. I can't stand people saying, "Oh, I can't do anything until I get a warm cup of coffee in me." Shut up. Being a former smoker, I recognize the addiction and subsequent irritability of coffee drinkers and it bugs me to no end that caffeine gets glossed over as an addictive substance, or even fucking celebrated to some extent. Those people who brag about needing 5 expresso shots (sorry, esssspresso) a day need an intervention, not a nod of approval. Seriously, all you coffee drinkers are the biggest group of fucking enablers I've ever seen.
When doing group activities, like camping, I loathe waiting for others to start their day after a morning ritual that hogs counter space, or propane, or dirties good clean water. I hate the sleepy look in peoples' eyes as they grasp their cup of stimulant that they wouldn't need had they never started drinking it in the first place.
There's an entire fucking cupboard in my kitchen dedicated to stupid coffee mugs and their dumb sayings staring back at me despite living in a household where only one person drinks coffee. Why? And the dishes. Since nearly every person drinks coffee, inevitably us non-coffee drinkers are going to have to clean up after your morning fix. Seriously, I've done so many goddamned cleanings of coffee mugs if I had a dime for every one, I'd probably have enough for a Starbucks franchise.
And don't even get me started on Starbucks. Godamned devil business slanging legal crack for decades, hogging good real estate so addicts have a place to slurp up and get their morning shit in before work.
Lastly, I despise the amalgam of ways people cook up their black powder and then talk up the flavor as though it tastes like something other than a dirty sock. That's your addiction speaking. You want to know why you need to dump half an udder of cream in your cup? It's because cream is fucking delicious and when combined with your filthy water, makes it somewhat bearable.
And your stupid machines that creak and groan through the quietude of my morning can go fuck themselves. Talk about a waste of counter-space. And the spent black stimulant granules that spill over onto the counter, staining the grout drives me nuts.
And lastly, the goddamned keurig cups or whatever they're called are one of humanity's worst inventions, sandwiched between Glyphosate and Joe Rogan. At least the meth addicts don't deposit a plastic remnant that will persist in landfills for hundreds of years spreading micro-plastics into our environment every time they need to get high.
I have noticed that, although this planet has 3.8 billion women, I have not had sex 3.8 billion times.
I have noticed that, although this planet has 3.8 billion women, I have not had sex 3.8 billion times. I'm not sure if this is being done intentionally or if these "friends" are forgetting to 'fuck' me. Either way, I've had enough. I have compiled a spreadsheet of individuals who have "forgotten" to 'fuck' me in my recent years. After 2 consecutive strikes, your name is automatically highlighted (shown in red) and I am immediately notified. 3 consecutive strikes and you can expect an in-person "consultation". Think about your actions.
I have noticed that, although this planet has 3.8 billion women, I have not had sex 3.8 billion times. I'm not sure if this is being done intentionally or if these "friends" are forgetting to 'fuck' me. Either way, I've had enough. I have compiled a spreadsheet of individuals who have "forgotten" to 'fuck' me in my recent years. After 2 consecutive strikes, your name is automatically highlighted (shown in red) and I am immediately notified. 3 consecutive strikes and you can expect an in-person "consultation". Think about your actions.
Fortnite, as a game, shows the failures of capitalism
twitchquotes:Fortnite, as a game, shows the failures of capitalism. The whole premise of buying VBucks for bling and novelty with real money creates a divide between the rich and the poor over something completely useless. The struggle to compete for weapons in game shows how people who get lucky will win - if, under a communistic style - Fortnite started with everyone sharing the same weapons, only then will the best at the game win the royale. Now you see, “the game” and “Fortnite” can easily be replaced with “working” and “society”, and you have the description of communism. By underlining these basic errors in such a system Fortnite acts as perfect communist propoganda. Workers of the world, unite!
Fortnite, as a game, shows the failures of capitalism. The whole premise of buying VBucks for bling and novelty with real money creates a divide between the rich and the poor over something completely useless. The struggle to compete for weapons in game shows how people who get lucky will win - if, under a communistic style - Fortnite started with everyone sharing the same weapons, only then will the best at the game win the royale. Now you see, “the game” and “Fortnite” can easily be replaced with “working” and “society”, and you have the description of communism. By underlining these basic errors in such a system Fortnite acts as perfect communist propoganda. Workers of the world, unite!
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."