Sorry! Something wrong happened behind the scenes. Refresh and try again.
[Copypasta]I'm not gonna copypasta from now on
twitchquotes:okay, I have decided I'm not gonna copypasta from now on. it's annoying and really uncreative. I'll post actual genuine content from now on ❤️️ I hope you can accept me for who I am
okay, I have decided I'm not gonna copypasta from now on. it's annoying and really uncreative. I'll post actual genuine content from now on ❤️️ I hope you can accept me for who I am
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
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.
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."