Popular Copypastas

So I (74M) was recently hit by a car (2014 Honda) and died. My wife (5F) organized me a funeral (cost $2747) without asking me (74M) at all. I (74M) was unable to make it because I (74M) was dead (17 days). At the funeral I heard my dad (15M) and other family members talking about how they wish I could be there and now I feel bad for not showing up. AITA?

Ok, so today I was talking to my friend over text. I asked him what's his favorite anime but then he told me that he doesn't watch it and thinks it's boring. I was confused as to why he didn't watch anime. I told him about how much I like to watch anime "for the plot" but he didn't really show much interest. I then asked him if we could play Among Us later but then he said he has to go to church this afternoon. I never knew he was a Christian. I was asking him why he believed in God and he didn't reply so I told him he's intellectually inferior to me and that his parents indoctrinated him into believing in God. I was sending him scientific studies that show proof that atheists are more intellectually superior to people who believe in religion. I later found out that he was attending a funeral at the church.

Did you ever hear the tragedy of "Darth Bearish the Regarded"? I thought not. It’s not a story any bull would tell you. It’s an ancient Bear legend. Darth Bearish was a Dark Lord of the Bears, so well capitalized and so regarded he could use Leverage to influence gamma to create profits… He had such a knowledge of the dark side of Leverage that he could even keep other traders he cared about from being margin called. But the dark side of Leverage is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be... unnatural. He became so bearish… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his positions, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice reversed his positions in his sleep. Ironic. He could save others from bankruptcy, but not himself!

the year is 2021 A tesla drives down the street unknowing of the danger behind it a beast of American metal and lightning The driver realizes he is in danger in his commie-fornia shoebox He presses the pussy pedal as hard as he can It cannot save him, he can hear the music already "THIS IS GAWWWWWD'S COUNTRRRRRYYYYYYY" He realizes he is already dead In an instant he becomes like a fly in the grill of a truck In the grill of the Ford F-150 EV It stops for no one

K? K what? The letter before L? The letter after J? Did you know that in JK the K stands for “kidding?” So your reply is “kidding?” or K as in Potassium? Do you need some Special K for breakfast? K as in I can K/O you? Can I knock you out and feed you to hungry sharks? Sharks have a K in it. "K"? Are you fucking kidding me? I spent a decent portion of my life writing all of that and your response to me is "K"? Are you so mentally handicapped that the only letter you can comprehend is "K" - or are you just some fucking asshole who thinks that with such a short response, he can make a statement about how meaningless what was written was? Well, I'll have you know that what I wrote was NOT meaningless, in fact, I even had my written work proof-read by several professors of literature. Don't believe me? I doubt you would, and your response to this will probably be "K" once again. Do I give a fuck? No, does it look like I give even the slightest fuck about a single letter? I bet you took the time to type that one letter too, I bet you sat there and chuckled to yourself for 20 hearty seconds before pressing "send". You're so fucking pathetic. I'm honestly considering directing you to a psychiatrist, but I'm simply far too nice to do something like that. You, however, will go out of your way to make a fool out of someone by responding to a well-thought-out, intelligent, or humorous statement that probably took longer to write than you can last in bed with a chimpanzee. What do I have to say to you? Absolutely nothing. I couldn't be bothered to respond to such a worthless attempt at a response. Do you want "K" on your gravestone? Do you want people to remember you as the asshat who one day decided to respond to someone with a single letter? "Hey, look, everybody! It's that "K" guy!" That's who you are. You're going to be known as the "K" guy. How does it feel? Do you feel happy? Quite honestly, I don't care, which is why I'm not even going to respond to you. Goodbye, and good luck with your future as that guy who said "K".

I hate when people refer to orange juice as OJ. Why OJ? Do you want to sound cool? Is it so much of a hustle to say orange juice? Do you abbreviate apple juice too? " Hey yeah, let me have some AJ?" - said by no one ever. I just think it sound annoying af. Edit: I don't have any issues with abbreviations, except for OJ as orange juice. Sorry if I offended some of you with sensitive feelings.

I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut. It was the greatest mistake of my life. After years of perfecting my recipe, I made my way down to the local hut, fresh-baked pizza pie in hand. "Try this," I told the kid working the counter. He did, and he had to agree that it was better than anything Pizza Hut had to offer. Soon, the entire store, customers included, was feasting on my delicious pie. The manager walked over, grabbed a slice, and took a bite. I look at him, anticipation rising. This was the boss, the local fief lord of the Hut. His approval meant more to me than all the rest combined. He took a bite and nodded. "I'll be damned," he said, "you really did it. You out-pizza'd the Hut. Shame." Shame? What did he mean by tha- the manager pulled a gun out from behind his apron and shot the nearest customer in the head. "We have a Code Jalapeño," he said into his wrist as he executed the remaining customers. "I repeat, we have a Code Jalapeño." The ground was slick with blood. The kid working the counter choked out his dying breath as the manager turned to me. "You just had to do it motherfucker. You just had to out-pizza the Hut." He shoved the gun in my face. I was too scared to fight, too scared to run. The manager pulled the trigger. A click. The gun was empty. I threw a chair at the manager and scrambled out of the Pizza Hut, not even bothering to see if my missile hit its mark. I was closely pursued by the manager, who had gotten his hands on a deadly sharp pizza cutter. I suspected in his hands it would cut more than pizza. Somehow, I was able to get into my car and speed off, the manager cursing my existence as I left him behind. I took a deep breath. The manager was clearly psychotic. Yes, that was it, just a crazy man with a gun. It had to be. My phone rang. Sister. I picked it. "They're dead, she sobbed. They're all dead. M-mom, dad, Chris, Bill. Dead. They killed them all." I could barely understand her, so great were her sobs. "What do you mean? Where are you?" I asked urgently. "How is this possi-" a single gunshot sounded through my phone's speakers. Silence. Then, I heard a man's voice. "No one out-pizzas the Hut." He hung up. I drove down the empty county road, mind blank. I had nothing. They killed my family. I was alone. At that moment I knew what I had to do. They took everything from me. Well then, I would take everything from them. Pizza Hut was so terrified of being out-pizza'd, they forgot there's one thing worse than a man with a recipe: A man with nothing to lose. I'll give them a limited time offer they won't be able to refuse: two bullets for the price of one. With a free side order of pain.