Popular Copypastas

Recently, I’ve been wondering if I might be a gay. It all started a week ago. I was sitting on the toilet, pooping, when all of a sudden, a big shit turd comes out of my ass. It was huge. Big big. It’s so fucking big, I gotta look down into the toilet to check for blood. No blood, but the turd is fucking massive. I notice something strange about it. The end of the turd, sticking out of the water, looks like a dick head. A penis head. Needless to say, I was concerned. How could this be? I picked it up from the water, and put it back up my ass. To my surprise, it felt good. I then shit it back into the water. Splash. I then repeated this a few more times, moaning out “Oscar Winning actor Anthony Hopkins” each time. I am not sure if I am now gay. My boyfriend says it’s completely normal, but he’s gay, so I can’t trust him.

What you guys have no Szechuan sauce? I WANT SZECHUAN SAUCE! WHERE'S MY SZECHUAN SAUCE??!! I'M PICKLE RICK!!!!!!!! WUBBALUBBADUBDUB!!!!!! I'M PICKLE RICK!!!! REEEEEEEEE!!!! REEEEE!!!! REEEEE!!!! IM PICKLE REEEEEEEEE!!!! REEEEEE!!!!! REEEEE!!!!!!

When i was 13, i came out to my parents as a morbius male. They couldnt accept my morbality, so they sent me off to camp. They just didnt understand— i was morbed that way. At the camp, they gave us electromorb therapy to morb us into beta males. I resisted the treatment, being a morbius male, you cant morb me out of being morbed. I fooled the counselors into thinking they had successfully morbed be into a beta male, and i returned home. To this day, i live a double life— one for my parents, who still cannot accept morbality, and one where its always morbin time.

Bi God’s bons, hwat didest thou seien of min, thou litel cunte? Thou shalt knouen ich was gradūāten best in min classe in soldierie, and ich was in mani-fold skekeries on the Frenshe men, and I hawe more than thre hundred slaghs that ben verried. Ich am expertful in mancowe militaunce, and ich am the best longe-boue archer in all the Englisch hoste. Thou are nout to min but a newe marke. Ich wille thee sottili renden, semble-wise was neverte beholden; par fei! Thou think thou canst afforthe to speken that shite ouer the “Internet”? Think-agen, churl! as we speken nou, ich am spēking wit minen aspīeris in all of Engellonde, and thin estre bith spīen aboute noue, thus thou shalt fore-dighten before the storm, maddok! The storm that wille shenden that spītǒus frivōl thou namest “thine lif”. Thou art ded, childe. Ich can ben ought-wher, ought-tym, and ich can slen thou with ouer seven hundred methodes, and all bar-handed! Ich am not only expertful in bar-handed baratri, but ich haue infare to the pleine armurie of the host of engelonde, and ich wille emploien hit for slen thine spitous arse, mandrake mymmerkin. If only thou cǒuthest hauen knouen what unblessed pūnīciǒun thine littel “gleu” glose was about to cause, parchaunce thou hauen holden thine tǒng stille. But thou cǒuthest nout, thou didest nout, and now thou paien for hit, thou simpleton. Ich wille casten oute furour upon thee, and thou wille senchen in hit. Thou art utterly ded, mannikin.