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Last time when I was 9 years old, my 29 years old roblox friend told me to download an app called discord. So after using discord for 3 years, I found multiple racist servers that I joined. They all send nazi and geroge floyd. They say n word and shit and now I say the n word too. I think saying n word is so funny. I say heil hitler too 😂😂😂 Everytime I post gore, me and the boys can’t stop laughing. We jack off to fortnite sex too. I am now racist and a nazi 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

"Your league knowledge is insane." Jack said, as he slipped his feminine hand into LS's pants and smirked. "Are you trying to mate me?" protests LS, as Jack blushes, the boyish figure undressed before LS. "Weak gank attempt, Jack." The two kissed, deeply and passionately, and afterwards LS places his Renekton into Jack's bottom lane.

I ain't never seen no mustard on that, but it might be good though, my dad would know better, boutta get him. Aww, mustard! Come on man, now don't put no mustard on that, you need to put a little season on that thing! WHAT! Man come on get that pepper off there! Come on, somebody come get this man! Come on now, come on get that pepper of there, that's just too much doggone pepper. I don't wanna see this no more! Oh, what happened oh. GOD! OH MY GOD! BOY WHY YOU PUTTING THAT PEPPER ON THERE?TAKE THAT OFF OF THERE. GET THE PEPPER OFF! ACHA!!

The other day, it was “take your kid to work day” at my dad’s job. It was really epic and poggers because I got to skip school for it. As we were walking in, I couldn’t help but notice that the company logo roughly resembled a crewmate from the popular game, Among Us. I asked my father, “Is this the Among Us but real??” My dad replied “No, son, this is the Pepsico corporate office.” As we entered the building, my dad said “Son, I have a lot of work to do today. You can hang out with the other kids or play on your phone, just please stay on this floor.” He then entered the elevator and left. I turned to the other kids (who were all playing on their phones) and said “Does anyone wanna play some Among Us?” However, no one else wanted to play. I was getting bored, so I decided to explore around a little bit. I walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the top floor.As the elevator door opened, I saw what appeared to be a long hallway. As I was walking down it, I found a door that was labeled “Executive Meeting Room”. The door was unlocked, so I walked in and there were about 15 people in suits and ties around a table. They all looked up at me in confusion. One of them asked me “Hey buddy, are you lost?” I noticed that his nametag read “Hugh Johnson, CFO”. “Does CFO stand for Chungus Fortnite Officer?”, I asked. “No, it does not. And where is your parent? Go back to the bottom floor young man!” He was yelling at me. So I said “You’re sus. I should eject you, Hugh Johnson. Do you have a… HUGE JOHNSON?! That’s funny like Big Chungus, which is the Bugs Bunny from Looney Tunes but a big rabbit!” I laughed. Everyone was looking up at me in shock when I said “Wanna play some Among Us guys?” The CEO, a very sexy woman, ooga booga awooga, said “Young man, go back to the first floor now!” But the sexy woman I just couldn’t listen to as I admired her. “No, because you have big tits.” Her jaw dropped, and she said, “Young man, this is an important meeting. Get the fuck out!” She then used the intercom to call security. Coming to the realization that I was running out of time, I pulled down my pants to show everyone my Among Us underwear. I jumped up onto the meeting table and started twerking (to make sure everyone saw my among us underwear I got for Christmas) and said “Do you like what you see?” Everyone was yelling at me to get out as I was twerking. “I’m so hot~~~~” I said. The yelling got louder. I ran out of the door and closed it, hoping that security wouldn’t find me. I quickly ran into the elevator and went down.

I sexually Identify as the "I sexually identify as an attack helicopter" joke. Ever since I was a child, I've dreamed of flippantly dismissing any concepts or discussions regarding gender that don't fit in with what I learned in 8th grade bio. People say to me that this joke hasn't been funny since 2014 and please at least come up with a new one, but I don't care, I'm hilarious. I'm having a plastic surgeon install Ctrl, C, and V keys on my body. From now on I want you guys to call me "epic kek dank meme trannies owned with facts and logic" and respect my right to shit up social media. If you can't accept me you're a memeophobe and need to check your ability-to-critically-think privilege. Thank you for being so understanding.

💁I CAN'T 🕶 BELIEVE IT'S ALREADY 💃M👏L 👏K 👏 🗣 EVE!! TONIGHT 🌛 WE WILL GATHER 👪 WITH OUR FAMILIES❤ NOT ONLY TO PRAY🙏 TO MLK 👍AND LET HIM KNOW💦💦💦 WHAT GIFTS🎁 WE WOULD 😚LIKE 😙 TO RECEIVE🍆 ON MLK DAY 🌞 BUT TO REMEMBER 😂 THAT MLK❤ IS THE REAL REASON 🎶 FOR 🎵THE 🎶 SEASON✔ SEND THIS TO TEN OTHER TRUE MLK FANS💯 OR YOUR BROTHERS 🙋 AND SISTERS🙆 WILL BE FOREVER OPPRESSED 😔

Oh for the love of God. Enough with the MORBIUS. What’s even the joke???? “Hahahaha hey guys the movie sucks but I pretend it’s good”???? THATS NOT EVEN A FUCKING JOKE. Holy shit my dick is going to fall out of its foreskin if I have to hear, “hehe it’s morbin time” ONE MORE TIME. Not only is it NOT funny, IT DOESNT EVEN MAKE SENSE. THE POWER RANGERS HAVENT BEEN RELEVANT IN DECADES. MORBIUS SUCKS THE MOVIE IS COMPLETE TRASH AND IM ASHAMED TO HAVE SPENT MONEY ON IT. You know…. I never would have seen the movie without all of these “memes”(unfunny shitposts). I would have been a MUCH HAPPIER PERSON. So fuck your “MORBIUS” your “mighty morbin more morbs morbidly MORBIUS BULLSHIT” NO ONE CARES, YOU ARENT FUNNY. Does not a singular human being have any independent thought anymore???? “Morb morb morb morb” you’re like a BUNCH OF SEAGULLS. SEA GULLS. What the FUCK does “morbin” even mean????? ITS NOT A WORD. ITS JUST GOBBLE GOOP. I feel like I am the last truly sentient human being on earth. IM BEING DRIVEN TO THE BRINK OF INSANITY. PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. TAKE YOUR MORBIUS BULLSHIT, SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS, AND GO OUTSIDE. Maybe if you went outside you could get “morb” bitches on your dick??!!! YOU LIKE THAT, YOU SEE WHAT YOUVE REDUCED ME INTO. I am a shell of a man and all of you collectively are to blame.This meme has spread like a debilitating illness AND I CANT GET AWAY FROM IT. THE FALL OF WESTERN SOCIETY IS HERE AND THIS COMPLETE UNFUNNY DRIBBLE OF A MEME IS PART OF THE PROBLEM. WHAT THE FUCK DOES “gETtiNg MoRBed” EVEN MEAN. it makes ZERO SENSE. ITS JUST GIBBERISH. FUCKING GIBB ER ISH. ITS NOT FUNNY. Saying “morb” LIKE ITS ITS OWN PUNCHLINE IS NOT COMEDY. IT IS COMEDIC AND CULTURAL DEGRADATION. Are we really so stunted as a generation that even the mention of any word that starts with m-o-r-b is FUNNY??? IN WHAT FUCKING UNIVERSE. Is it funny because it isn’t funny because praising something bad is now good??????? HOW MANY LAYERS OF IRONY DO WE NEED. HOW FAR DOES THE RABBIT HOLE GO. This website has stripped me of EVERY LAST BRAINCELL. GOING ON REDDIT FEELS LIKE IM GETTING A SUPER HERO INDUCED LOBOTOMY. I hate MORBIUS. I HATE IT. I know I’m just going to get FLOODED WITH “get morbed, this guy got morbed, what morb does to a man” HAHAHAHHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHHQHQHAHAHAHAHAHWHHSHWBSQIISHWINSIQKSBDD SSSSOOOOOOOOOOOO FUNNNNNNNNYYYYYYY AGAGAGGAGHHHHHHHHH

That's right. I am the IMPOSTER. I just killed my boss. I now had to convince everyone that I wasn't the imposter. "Chad is the imposter!" I randomly yelled out. Another coworker said "Well, I did see him running towards the stairs/elevator. "Wait, think about this!" Chad stated. "How do you know I'm the murderer? It could be him!" "Hmm.." My coworker, John, said. "Why do you think it's him, Darrius?" "Well," I started, "The same reason as you. I saw him running towards the elevator when the killing happened. "Wait, wait, wait!" Angelica proclaimed. "How do we know it happened on the top floor?" Another coworker, Adam, pointed out the window towards the paramedics wrapping up my boss' mangled corpse in a body bag." Oh!" Angelica said." That's a bit sussy," I said. "I think it must have been Angelica, she's pretending she doesn't know anything?" "Hmm, you might be right." My coworker Dave spoke up. "But I think that it might be you, Darrius." "Wait woah woah, why is it me?" I defended myself. He said "I saw you enter the elevator right before the murderer hit!" He said. Shit. he's onto me." Woah, you could be lying! I was in my cubicle doing my office work!" I yelled back." Oh really, what were you doing?" Dave said." I was uh.. scanning for viruses on my computer!" "Hmm.. okay." "I think that we should get rid of Liam." Angelica proclaimed. "Woah woah woah, pretty lady! Why do you think that?" He quickly hopped to his defense. "I haven't been a part of this discussion at all!" "Well, you're pale, and you work on the closest floor to the boss." Angelica replies. "Yeah, that's sus, Liam." I said. "We should get rid of him." "I agree." Chad said." Me too!" Adam said." Me three!" John said. And so we decided to throw him out the window.

Hello, is this Pizza Hut? Excellent. My name is Ben Shapiro. Conservative thought leader. Prominent white YouTuber. The Muggsy Bogues of the intellectual dark Web. And—look, it’s just a fact—I would like to order some pizza pie. If you are triggered by that request, I do not care. I truly do not. Now let’s discuss conditions. First, thank you for agreeing to debate me. Typically, in fora such as this, I am met with ad-hominem mudslinging, anything from “You racist creep” or “Is that your real voice?” to raucous schoolyard laughter and threats of the dreaded “toilet swirly.” However, your willingness to engage with me over the phone on the subject of pizza shows an intellectual fortitude and openness to dangerous ideas which reflects highly on your character. Huzzah, good sir. Huzzah. Second, any pizza I order will be male. None of this “Our pizza identifies as trans-fluid-pan-poly”—no. Pizza is a boy. With a penis. It’s that simple. It’s been true for all of human history, from Plato to Socrates to Mr. Mistoffelees, and any attempt to rewrite the pillars of Western thought will be met with a hearty “Fuh!” by yours truly. And, trust me, that is not a fate you wish to meet. Now. With regard to my topping preference. I have eaten from your pizzeria in times past, and it must be said: your pepperoni is embarrassingly spicy. Frankly, it boggles the mind. I mean, what kind of drugs are you inhaling over there? Pot?! One bite of that stuff and I had to take a shower. So tread lightly when it comes to spice, my good man. You do not want to see me at my most epic. Like the great white hero of Zack Snyder’s classic film “300,” I will kick you. Onions, peppers—no, thank you. If I wanted veggies, I’d go to a salad bar. I’m not some sort of vegan, Cory Booker weirdo. And your efforts to Michelle Obama-ize the great American pizza pie are, frankly, hilarious. Though not as funny as the impressively named P’Zone—when I finally figured out that genuinely creative pun, I laughed until I cried and peed. A true Spartan admits defeat, and I must admit that, in this instance, your Hut humor slayed me, Dennis Miller style. And, with that, you have earned my order. Congratulations. Ahem. Without further ado, I would like your smallest child pizza, no sauce, extra cheese. Hello? Aha. A hang-up. Another triggered lib, bested by logic. Damn it. I’m fucking starving.

Imagine, 700 years in the future, through some last vestige of the internet kept in an underground server, a notification miraculously appears on your device (which has been preserved in nuclear dust from the 5th world war). One night, an alien working a late shift at the museum of archeology notices the cracked screen suddenly light up, and upon it, one word arises from the battered code: Amogus. They do not know what this word means. They ponder it deeply. They scour the ancient tomes, desperate to understand its mystifying origin. It drives them mad. Is it a primeval cipher? The motto of a bygone civilization? A message from God? Night after night they study it by candlelight. They flip through pages in books so old, the slightest cough would turn the paper to a fine off-white powder. The answer is nowhere to be found. And then they are struck by a revelation: I was not meant to know this word. Its esoteric nature escapes my grasp for a reason. What if its meaning is too enlightening to bear? With this revelation comes anger. Spite. Despair. Why shouldn't I understand it?! What cosmic forces are there at play to keep me from such knowledge?! In a fit of desperate rage, they shatter your device against a wall and exclaim, arms raised to the heavens: "This is literally 1984!" Silence... Their pleas are unanswered. Sadly, in the end, their inability to unlock the word's meaning drives them to suicide. Its secrets are never known. So I ask you this: is it better to die having never understood the true mind-bending nature of Amogus, or to be driven mad by the little spaceman in his blood-red suit? If you knew enlightenment would render you incapable of living on this mortal earth without making daily references to a game of space mafia, would you accept it? With knowledge comes power, but also endless suffering. Choose wisely, and be wary when standing at the edge of that great abyss we call "the Truth," lest you fall too deep.