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Wow, WOW. Did you just really use a copypasta to respond to me? Instead of giving a proper response or ending the conversation like a sane person, you just use a copypasta and think you're a smartass? Guess what, i'm the one who is smart and you are the one who is an ass; because you just think copy and pasting something will get you to be in 1st place. Fucking speak to people properly instead of using one of those shitty lines of text.

The year is 2037. Ligma is now the name of a real disease. You're a doctor you just got the test results of the patient it's just as you feared it's fatal, your patient has ligma you're crying but you can't stop laughing you know you have to tell your patient that he has ligma but you can't keep a straight face you have to go out therr and tell your patient that he has only three days left to live and that there's no cure no hope not even enough time for him to finish his bucket list or find love or get the life he's always wanted he started making progress, he was doing well, his future had high hopes but he has a fatal case of ligma and you can't keep a straight face you walk out to your patient, "s-sir," you say through snickers "yes doctor? what are my test results?" your patient replies "I-I'm very sorry to say but," you respond as your sentence gets interrupted by a loud snort. "it's f-f-atal." you can't hold your laughs and you let out a bit of laughter "Is this some kind of joke? are you some sadistic creep? why the fuck are you laughing" the patient shouts out you "you h-have a fatal case of l-l-ligma," you can't hold it in anymore, you burst out laughing, you're rolling on the floor, tears in your eyes, you pee yourself a little "what the fuck is wrong with you? you're horrible! fuck you! go to hell!" your patient replies, with a face of horror, disgust, anger and sadness. he starts to cry. he's shaking you scream at the top of your lungs, "LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! LIGMA BALLS!" you can't stop laughing and shouting, over and over again you repeat "LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS! LIGMA BALLS!" your patient flees, he runs as fast as he can soon the police come, they handcuff you and put you in the back of a police car. you don't know what's going to happen to you now, but you know it won't be good

Ok, this has been driving me crazy for seven movies now, and I know you're going to roll your eyes, but hear me out: Harry Potter should have carried a 1911. Here's why: Think about how quickly the entire WWWIII (Wizarding-World War III) would have ended if all of the good guys had simply armed up with good ol' American hot lead. Basilisk? Let's see how tough it is when you shoot it with a .470 Nitro Express. Worried about its Medusa-gaze? Wear night vision goggles. The image is light-amplified and re-transmitted to your eyes. You aren't looking at it--you're looking at a picture of it. Imagine how epic the first movie would be if Harry had put a breeching charge on the bathroom wall, flash-banged the hole, and then went in wearing NVGs and a Kevlar-weave stab-vest, carrying a SPAS-12. And have you noticed that only Europe seems to a problem with Deatheaters? Maybe it's because Americans have spent the last 200 years shooting deer, playing GTA: Vice City, and keeping an eye out for black helicopters over their compounds. Meanwhile, Brits have been cutting their steaks with spoons. Remember: gun-control means that Voldemort wins. God made wizards and God made muggles, but Samuel Colt made them equal. Now I know what you're going to say: "But a wizard could just disarm someone with a gun!" Yeah, well they can also disarm someone with a wand (as they do many times throughout the books/movies). But which is faster: saying a spell or pulling a trigger? Avada Kedavra, meet Avtomat Kalashnikova. Imagine Harry out in the woods, wearing his invisibility cloak, carrying a .50bmg Barrett, turning Deatheaters into pink mist, scratching a lightning bolt into his rifle stock for each kill. I don't think Madam Pomfrey has any spells that can scrape your brains off of the trees and put you back together after something like that. Voldemort's wand may be 13.5 inches with a Phoenix-feather core, but Harry's would be 0.50 inches with a tungsten core. Let's see Voldy wave his at 3,000 feet per second. Better hope you have some Essence of Dittany for that sucking chest wound. I can see it now...Voldemort roaring with evil laughter and boasting to Harry that he can't be killed, since he is protected by seven Horcruxes, only to have Harry give a crooked grin, flick his cigarette butt away, and deliver what would easily be the best one-liner in the entire series: "Well then I guess it's a good thing my 1911 holds 7+1." And that is why Harry Potter should have carried a 1911.

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".

It all started when I was dating my wife. I met her four years ago and we have been dating all 4 years. She has had the rabbit since before I met her. The little bastard is old and saggy and partially blind. Some parts of his body is missing patches of fur because he pulls it out to make a nest for himself and my wife. When we met the rabbit was not a major issue. It would scratch and bite at me but my wife assured me he was just nervous to have another person in her apartment as my wife and the rabbit lived alone since my wife was 18. We have been married one year now and the rabbit is wreaking havoc on our marriage but my wife refuses to do anything because to her the rabbit is her baby and she loves it more than anything. When I first moved in the rabbit did not do much to me or us other than the previously mentioned bites and scratches but he shows my wife too much affection for just a owner. We will be doing anything and she will have the rabbit with her on top of her chest on her breasts licking them and her face. She will not put it down at all whenever she is home with it. We eat dinner, he is there, she goes to the bathroom, he comes with, she is showering? He waits outside for her, watching her nude in the shower. Wife does not even let me in the bathroom with her. It has gone to the point where whenever I show my wife affection the rabbit seeks revenge on me. Sometimes not immediately but at times he does attack me on the spot when I kiss my wife. Sometimes I find little tiny brown balls, his shit in my closet. Another thing is that she lets the little shit roam free all day but nighttime and when we are making love. This was not previously the case but after an accident during lovemaking and much long conversations I convinced my wife to put the rabbit in its cage when we are making love. But now whenever I am making love to my wife, like clockwork, the little shit knows what we are doing and screams at the top of its lungs until my wife abandons what she is doing, even nude and comes to the smug little shits rescue. He is doing this out of pure spite. I am aware that rabbits only scream when very stressed or in danger but he is in his huge cage because my wife spoils him only during night and when we make love, I swear he is doing this to ruin our marriage. He thinks my wife is his mate and wants to get rid of me. I have scars all over my body from bites and scratches and my life refuses to do anything about the rabbit or how much time she spends with it. We are in couples therapy and our marriage is very rocky. What do I do?

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.

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good news, my sisters pregnant! i'm going to be a .... uncle, you thought i was going to say Dad but i stopped banging my sister years ago

There once was a woman who had 100 children. She named each of them after numbers in the order they were born. There was a fire and all of them died except Ninety. Ninety went off to have kids of her own. They were very kind and loving. One day they found an injured dog. They took it home and nursed it back to health. They hid the dog and never told their mother afraid she would kick the dog out . In fact they never told anyone. To keep from arousing any suspicions they named the dog "This" so the name could be used in conversation. One day This ran away. They never saw This again. No one else knew about This. No one even knew a dog named This existed. Only Ninety's kids will remember This.