This is probably the worst thing I've ever seen. 100 years from now when I'm dying on a hospital bed and I'm asked what my biggest regret was it will be that I turned on my internet and scrolled through the internet on that fateful day... I will never be able to recover from this. No amount of therapy will save me. No amount of prescription pills will let me recover. I am a shell. This memory is so bad my brain is physically rejecting it and now I have a headache every time I think about it. Why did you post this, thinking it was a good idea? You've permanently ruined my life because of this, I hope you're happy. I hope that one day this gets branded as a war crime and you get hauled off to prison, never to see the light of day again. The fact that you're already not in a psych ward for insanity is so baffling I have lost all faith in every kind of justice system. If you subscribe to any religion, you'd best spend the rest of your time atoning for this ultimate sin. Have a terrible day, I hope this creation of yours haunts you in your dreams.
What happened to this ad? :(
More Classic Copypastas
Hi, my name is Bill Gates and today I’ll teach you how to count to ten
twitchquotes:
Hi, my name is Bill Gates and today I’ll teach you how to count to ten: 1, 2, 3, 95, 98, NT, 2000, XP, Vista, 7, 8, 10
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Classic
Response to "go fuck yourself"
What if I'm already fucking myself? Behind this simple insult hides a universal paradox that may put your sexuality in question. Let's do a simple thought experiment: imagine us two standing in front of each other. I, of course, am wearing a pair of jeans, that are covering my genitals and my butt. You then command me to "go fuck myself". I may be fucking myself already. I may as well not be fucking myself already. Until my dick and its position relative to my ass is observed, it is simultaneously in my ass, but also outside of it - thus, it stays in superposition. The moment you lay eyes on my penis, both states collide with each other and become either one. You may have already guessed what the problem here is. As soon as a single photon reflected by my dick enters either one of your eyes, you become gay. The only way to avoid this is to not observe my penis. But if you don't look at it, then you will never know if your insult had any effect, thus rendering it meaningless. Since you have already made the insult, you are now, too, in superposition - you're either wrong, or gay. It's unfortunate, really - you dug a hole for yourself without even knowing it. All you can do now is accept it, and learn from your mistakes.
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not an asexual thing
twitchquotes:
‘not an asexual thing’. try living a day in my shoes, walking around terrified of encountering sex everywhere i go. wherever i look, parents with children, people sucking each others’ faces. it makes me and millions of other aces out there feel really attacked.
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That's the wrong VoHiYo
twitchquotes:
THATS THE WRONG HOLE ONII-CHAN KYAAAAH
THATS THE WRONG HOLE ONII-CHAN KYAAAAH
twitch chat
Weebs
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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."