[Copypasta] That's the power of cargo pants

twitchquotes: Excuse me? Cargo pants, motherfucker. My pockets have pockets. You can't stop the storage. And when it gets too hot, just unzip and remove the lower half of the legs. Utility, motherfuckers. Want me to hold your phone for a second? how about I hold one of every phone on the market, each with their own individual pocket. Want me to hold your souvenir from your vacation to Europe? How about I put Europe in my pocket. That's the power of cargo pants, motherfuckers
twitch chat
August 2019
I used to be a real ad
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Virgin Galactic Holdings changes name to Holding Galactic Virgins, and announces it’s changing its business model to extraterrestrial prostitution. Edit: SpaceX, not to be outdone, changes to SpaceSex
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If Morbius has a trillion fans I am one of them. If Morbius has 10 fans I am one of them. If Morbius has no fans, that I means I am no longer on Earth. If the Universe is against Morbius, I am against the Universe. I love Morbius until my last breath.
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twitchquotes: I am a muricunt born in america, the land of the fat and the free. I am proud of my awful education, horrible medical care, terrible society and religious gunwielding fanatics. With my natural 260 lbs, please stop talking trash about my mediocre country which is a collection of all the human scum EU and Asia dumped a few hundred years ago.
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Biden's America

The year is 2021. You look at the television. SIlver fox President Biden announces a vaccine mandate for employees. You clutch your limited edition Trump Funko Pop. It has begun. You gather up all your belongings, and jump into your truck, hitting the highway for the airport. Out of your rearview mirror you can make out a sleek black Prius pursuing you. You make out the numbers “1” “9” “8” and 4” on their license plate. You are able to lose the Prius and arrive at the airport. You are almost free. At airport security You see a young man being dragged away screaming. The guards yell something about him having more than 3.4 oz of liquid. Thankfully you only have an AR 15 on you. The guard inspects it. “It’s for hunting,” you say. They hand it back to you and wave for you to move along. You breathe a sigh of relief. “One more thing.” You turn to see a Guard staring down at you with their beady soulless eyes. “I need to see your vaccination card” It is too late. You try to run away, but you feel someone press a cloth against your face. Reality fades away. You wake up in some kind of lab, chained down to an operation table and gagged. The room is undecorated except for a single poster of Harry Styles in a dress on the wall. A single figure stands in the corner shrouded in shadow, fiddling with a syringe. As they step out of the shadow, you can make out their face, the roguishly handsome Gavin Newsom. He positions a large surgical headlight above you and turns it on. He holds up the large syringe to the light and chuckles, staring into your pleading eyes. “Don't worry, it will all be over soon” He removes his mask to reveal his serpent's tongue, flickering in amusement. He plunges the syringe straight through your “socialism is for figs” shirt into your arm. “Nighty night” Your world fades to black once more.
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Politics

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