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[Copypasta]Jeff Bezos vs Elon Musk
Jeff Bezos
-Bald
-Exwife took half his networth
-Second richest person
Elon Musk
-Grew back full head of hair
-Has girlfriend, allegedly had a threesome with Amber Heard and Cara Delevingne
-Richest person
TSLA > AMZN
Jeff Bezos
-Bald
-Exwife took half his networth
-Second richest person
Elon Musk
-Grew back full head of hair
-Has girlfriend, allegedly had a threesome with Amber Heard and Cara Delevingne
-Richest person
TSLA > AMZN
twitchquotes:You cheated not only the game, but yourself. You didn't grow. You didn't improve. You took a shortcut and gained nothing. You experienced a hollow victory. Nothing was risked and nothing was gained. It's sad that you don't know the difference.
You cheated not only the game, but yourself. You didn't grow. You didn't improve. You took a shortcut and gained nothing. You experienced a hollow victory. Nothing was risked and nothing was gained. It's sad that you don't know the difference.
I remember a time when copypasta was biting satire
twitchquotes:I remember a time when copypasta was biting satire and prophetic indictments of contemporary Twitch chat. Copypasta when I was a younger teenager had the potency to topple Nazi moderatorships and revolutionize new chat epochs. Even the truncation of "copypasta" to "pasta" shows a lack of eloquence that speaks volumes. If, like me, you are a product of those better times and wish to see them return then speak out. Let the memers and Toucans know that real copypasta back.
I remember a time when copypasta was biting satire and prophetic indictments of contemporary Twitch chat. Copypasta when I was a younger teenager had the potency to topple Nazi moderatorships and revolutionize new chat epochs. Even the truncation of "copypasta" to "pasta" shows a lack of eloquence that speaks volumes. If, like me, you are a product of those better times and wish to see them return then speak out. Let the memers and Toucans know that real copypasta back.
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."