Well you see, if you didn't care you wouldn't have said "Literally no one gives a shit" in the first place. If you truly did not care, you would of completely ignored the conversation from the very start. The fact that you said that just shows the childishness inside of you. All that saying "no one gives a shit" does is make you out to be an entitled, lower person who craves attention by trying to seem cool. Even if you do not care about this statement, the mere fact that you are saying "no one gives a shit" says a lot about you. And shows that you are in fact an unlikable individual. Regardless of if you care of not, these are goddamn facts, and facts do not care about your little peabrained fucking pissbaby feelings. No amount of not caring will change your unlikableness. Nobody will forget this moment and it'll be embedded into our minds for months, even years. Grow up a little before even thinking about responding to another innocent person with "No one gives a shit".
What happened to this ad? :(
More Copypastas
Guido Mista's face
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⢛⠻⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠐⠄⠄⠄⠄⠠⠄⠄⢀⣀⡈⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠋⡀⠴⢒⡒⠂⠄⢀⡀⢐⡀⡀⠄⠄⢀⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⡡⠪⠶⢿⡭⡉⠄⢀⢣⣖⣶⣬⡱⣄⠄⠄⠄⠸⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡁⣔⣎⠓⠂⡀⠑⠖⣒⠭⠻⠿⠿⠷⠙⣎⠉⠉⠄⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢧⢱⣿⣔⣀⠊⠐⢼⣿⣶⣠⠄⠐⡐⠶⡂⣿⣀⡀⠄⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣟⠂⣿⣿⣷⣶⣟⣴⣾⣿⣧⣐⣤⣤⣭⣿⠇⡇⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢹⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⡌⠿⣛⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢫⡞⡇⠄⠄⢰⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⣫⠞⢀⣿⣿⣿⣥⣤⣌⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣽⣿⠁⡇⠒⢒⣾⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣯⣾⠋⠄⠘⣿⣿⣿⣶⣶⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⡿⠃⣴⡇⠄⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿
⡛⡿⣿⣿⣷⣇⠄⠄⡈⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣉⠄⣼⡇⣼⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠉⠐⣥⡙⠛⠿⠇⢸⠰⠄⠄⠄⠹⠟⠛⠋⢉⣀⢩⢴⠄⢰⣿⣧⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⢱⡀⠄⠄⠇⡰⠄⡐⠄⠰⠰⢿⠃⠈⠉⢠⠄⠄⠻⠿⢾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⡤⡴⠶⠚⠋⠻⣆⠄⠁⣠⠡⠐⠁⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠁⠄⠠⣦⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠲⠎⠉
JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Only the chosen one can wear the the tick antenna
twitch chat
Can Goldshire Footman replace Auctioneer for miracle rogue?
twitchquotes:
Hi chat and forsen, I am wondering what I can replace auctioneer for in my Miracle rogue deck, do you think Goldshire Footman will work? Thanks and hope you suggest good cards. Greetings from Nigeria
twitch chat
Forsen
Hearthstone
Elundus Core
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."