[Copypasta] Who’s Joe? Joe Momma

"Who’s joe?" a distant voice asks. Instantly everyone nearby hears the sound of 1,000s of bricks rapidly shuffling towards his location. The earth itself seemed to cry out in agony, until finally the ground itself split open and a horrific creature crawled from the ground, covered in mucus and tar. ”Joe Momma…” the creature whispered. The man cried out in pain as he disintegrated into dust, and the whole world fell silent in fear. "I did a little trolling." the wretched creature remarked before burrowing back into the earth.
September 2021

Classic

(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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I put my cursor over Kripp's and pretend we're holding hands

twitchquotes: (◕‿◕✿) sometimes... when i have a bad day.... I put my cursor over Kripp's and pretend that we're holding hands (◕‿◕✿)
twitch chat
August 2015
Kripp

Classic

You notice a wall of text in twitch chat

twitchquotes: You notice a wall of text in twitch chat and your hand instinctively goes to the mouse. You scroll up to stop the chat elevator and read the pasta, indulging in its delights... You soon realize that this pasta conveys no information nor is particularly witty or funny. Nevertheless, you drag your mouse across, hit Ctrl+C, then Ctrl+V and press Enter
twitch chat
March 2016

Classic

Now playing Who Asked (Feat: Nobody)

twitchquotes: now ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: Who asked (Feat: Nobody) ───────────⚪────── ◄◄⠀▐▐⠀►► 𝟸:𝟷𝟾 / 𝟹:𝟻𝟼⠀───○ 🔊
twitch chat
February 2020

Classic

Who Asked?

Anime girl tongue (ahegao face)

⠄⠄⠄⢰⣧⣼⣯⠄⣸⣠⣶⣶⣦⣾⠄⠄⠄⠄⡀⠄⢀⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⢸⡇⠄⠄ ⠄⠄⠄⣾⣿⠿⠿⠶⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣤⣄⢀⡅⢠⣾⣛⡉⠄⠄⠄⠸⢀⣿⠄ ⠄⠄⢀⡋⣡⣴⣶⣶⡀⠄⠄⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣴⣿⣿⣿⢃⣤⣄⣀⣥⣿⣿⠄ ⠄⠄⢸⣇⠻⣿⣿⣿⣧⣀⢀⣠⡌⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⠄ ⠄⢀⢸⣿⣷⣤⣤⣤⣬⣙⣛⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣿⣿⡍⠄⠄⢀⣤⣄⠉⠋⣰ ⠄⣼⣖⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢇⣿⣿⡷⠶⠶⢿⣿⣿⠇⢀⣤ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣽⣿⣿⣿⡇⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣥⣴⣿⡗ ⢀⠈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠄ ⢸⣿⣦⣌⣛⣻⣿⣿⣧⠙⠛⠛⡭⠅⠒⠦⠭⣭⡻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠃⠄ ⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡆⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠹⠈⢋⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣵⣾⠃⠄ ⠄⠘⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⣴⣿⣶⣄⠄⣴⣶⠄⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠃⠄⠄ ⠄⠄⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡄⢻⣿⣿⣿⠄⣿⣿⡀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣛⠛⠁⠄⠄⠄ ⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠛⢿⣿⣿⣿⠁⠞⢿⣿⣿⡄⢿⣿⡇⣸⣿⣿⠿⠛⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄ ⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠉⠻⣿⣿⣾⣦⡙⠻⣷⣾⣿⠃⠿⠋⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⣴ ⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣮⣥⣒⠲⢮⣝⡿⣿⣿⡆⣿⡿⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣠⣴⣿⣿⣿
ascii art
October 2018

Weebs

Classic

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."
January 2021

Classic

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