OK so I was watching space jam 2 and I got RANDOMLY horny. I didnβt wanna exit the movie so I just waited till the Lola scene came up. It came. I started JACKING the SHIT out my pecker. And then.. I ACCIDENTLY NUTTED TO LEBRONππππππππππππππ
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
Somewhere in a parallel universe, Europe didn't need to be saved by America
twitchquotes:
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twitch chat
Classic
EU vs NA
EU WHY SO QUIET?
twitchquotes:
EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET?
EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET? EU WHY SO QUIET?
twitch chat
EU vs NA
Kripp should change his name to hl_kripp
twitchquotes:
Hello Kripparino, this is Noah Liferino, CEO of No Life IncorporatedΒ©. As you may already know, we are requiring you to change your Twitch name to hl_kripp (has life) as you no longer are a "no life". This was stated in the contract you signed under section 6 article 9 paragraph 420. This is to be enforced immediately.
twitch chat
Kripp
Imagine Fortnite Jonesy in Smash
Imagine this: You're watching the new Nintendo Direct. As it begins you hope to see the new smash reveal, and are hoping you get the character you so desperately wanted, whether it's Crash Bandicoot or Sora. The trailer begins with the classic smash opening. As you watch the trailer, you begin to feel hope that your dream may have come true. But then, at the part where the character is revealed, you hear a bus horn, and wonder "Is it coming from outside?" But no. It's from the trailer. You watch a manly figure drop out of the sky, landing gracefully in front of the characters he is about to defeat. It gazes upon his sharp-bladed pickaxe, his luxurious blond hair, and his shining silver dog tags. As the sun fades away, you finally see who it really was: It was Jonesy from Fortnite. It's a long shot, I know. But imagine.
Fortnite
Super Smash Bros
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."