I just shit and cum.
# FAQ
## What does this mean?
The amount of shit (and cum) on my computer and floor has increased by one.
## Why did you do this?
There are several reasons I may deem a comment to be worthy of feces or ejaculation. These include, but are not limited to:
* Being gay
* Dank copypasta bro, where'd you find it
* walter
## Am I going to shit and cum too?
No - not yet. But you should refrain from shitposting and cumposting like this in the future. Otherwise I will be forced to shit and cum again, which may put your shitting and cumming privileges in jeopardy.
## I don't believe my comment deserved being shit and cum at. Can you un-cum it?
Sure, mistakes happen. But only in exceedingly rare circumstances will I put shit back into my butt. If you would like to issue an appeal, shoot me a hot load explaining what I got wrong. I tend to respond to retaliatory ejaculation within several minutes. Do note, however, that over 99.9% of semen dies before it can fertilize the egg, and yours is likely no exception.
## How can I prevent this from happening in the future?
Accept the goopy brown and white substance and move on. But learn from this mistake: your behavior will not be tolerated in my mom's basement. I will continue to shit and cum until you improve your conduct. Remember: ejaculation is privilege, not a right.
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
For anyone whose Egyptian keyboard is broken, hereâs a full alphabet to copy and paste letters from accordingly
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Spam so I may stay warm
twitchquotes:
Hello chat. My home is very cold and I do not know if I will make it through the night. Whenever the chat spams, my old laptop heats up very quickly. It is the only thing keeping me alive. Please chat, spam as much as possible so I may stay warm and survive the frigid night.
twitch chat
Please help, when I sneeze, it sounds like I'm saying the n-word
I'm not sure what to do. For my early life, it wasn't a huge deal. I lived in a mostly white family who didn't really care, and I stayed home from school when I was sick. But now that I'm in college, I'm terrified of what it could mean. Doctors won't help me. Every time I've asked, they think I'm making it up and doing it on purpose, and now that I've moved, my doctor is this 6ft tall african-american man. I haven't been to a check-up in over a year.
It's causing trouble with school too. The first instance was in chemistry. The professor told me to pass out some bunsen burners from the cabinet to the rest of the students. I got up and opened the cabinet, but it was super dusty inside, and before I could help myself, a huge sneeze forced itself out of my body. "N*GGA!" sounded across the classroom, and I just froze. My cheeks heated up as everyone just stared at me. I quickly said that I needed to go get a tissue and ran from the classroom. I was forced to have a meeting with my professor later, where she was adamant that she wouldn't have that kind of language in her classroom. I tried to explain that it was an accident and I didn't even have a reason to say the n-word while sneezing and gathering bunsen burners, but she was already mad so I think she zeroed in on my word choice and thought that I was inferring that other times I DID have a reason to say it. I didn't get kicked out but nobody wanted to partner with me for the rest of the semester, and I feel like the professor was a bit harsher on test questions.
The most recent event happened only yesterday, and I'm terrified of what it could mean. I was in line at the Chick-fil-A in the cafeteria, feeling like shit. I'd been sick for a day or two, and normally I don't go out because of my unique problem, but I was starving and just needed to grab a quick bite. Right as I got up to the counter, I felt a sneeze coming on, and knew I was screwed. Here's the thing. When I'm sick, the issue is 10x worse. The phlegm or something in my throat makes the n-word sound come out with a lower, R-sound at the end instead of the gasp that normally makes the A. So I'm standing there, about to order my 8pc nugget, when I spasm and unleash a full forced "N****R!" across the entire cafeteria. Everybody heard it. Literally everybody. The girl at the counter, who unfortunately was black, just looked so hurt and angry at the same time, not to mention I think I may have sneezed a little on her. I turned and bolted from the cafeteria. I ran straight back to my dorm; I saw a group of guys trying to follow me, but they couldn't get in to my specific dorm building. I recognized a few of them from my chemistry class. I've been in my dorm ever since. I'm terrified of leaving. I'm positive that if they see me again, they'll kick the shit out of me.
So that's my problem. I'm not sure how to prove my innocence and I don't think I'll survive another semester at this rate.
Tik Tok
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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."