Popular Copypastas

Bought a bunch of calls thinking I was going to be able to afford an escort to shit on my chest, now it's these red futures that are shitting on my chest.

Theres a very unsportsmanlike player at our club who constantly taunts and belittles everyone else. Whenver you make a mistake he yells out "blunder!" or "inaccuracy!" ... "better move was..." and then says the engine move or what he thinks the engine move is. He also says what he thinks the engine +- is. He plays the kings gambit as much as he can and knows like 30 moves deep into every variation. If you respond something other than e5 to 1.e4 he just laughs and calls you a patzer. He's also OBSESSED with Hikaru Nakamura. He talks about him all the time and shows everyone a picture of him with Hikaru (Its really blurry so its hard to tell if its even him). He's constantly talking about him as if he's a close friend even though he only (maybe?) met him one time. Its bordering on creepy and makes everyone uncomfortable. He calls him "Hikaru-San" which I think is part of his obsession with Japanese culture. He also brings japanese noodles/Ramen to the club every day and will spend like 5-10 minute eating them during his turn just to taunt you. Meanwhile he will be mumbling words in japanese. We tried approaching about his conduct but he just did some weird anime villain laugh, yelled something in Japanese, then ran off to challenge another person to a blitz match. We obviously don't want to tell him not to come but it feels like his presence is deterring new people from joining and its also exhuasting.

Bear King Michael Burry in the ring, slappin TSLA with a metal chair. His glass eye open wide with rage as he batters TSLA relentlessly. "The valuation..." crunch "makes...." crunch "NO.... " crunch "SENSE!" he roars with maniacal autistic glee. TSLA struggles for the edge of the ring, but coughs blood as each hit lands, and eventually stops moving. Bear King Burry drops the chair. Bear King Burry turns to the crowd "Was this your champion!? Was TSLA supposed to be your chosen one!?" A child in the crowd turns his face into his mother's side and cries. On the side of the ring WSB can barely move. TSLA was supposed to tag them in, but couldn't make it to the side in time. "Get up TSLA" WSB whimpers hopelessly, a single tear rolling down their cheek. "Get up..." Bear King Burry turns to WSB "Now it is your portfolio's turn. Get in here you little bitch." "Excuse me." Someone replies from behind BKB. "I believe I can give you the fight you want." A robed figure is administering smelling salts to TSLA. The figure puts TSLA on its shoulder and carries TSLA gently out of the ring. "And just who the fuck do you think you are?" BKB rumbles ominously. BKB's fingers squeeze so tightly on the chair that metal bends. "Who am I?" the robed figure inquires. The robed figure stands straight and stretches to their full height. They must be at least 7' tall. The crowd stops crying and watches in stunned silence. "Who am I?" The figure repeats menacingly. The figure turns around to face BKB, ripping off his robe. A gleaming light fills the stadium. Before us stands a Golden deity, rippling with muscle. If there is an ounce of body fat it is currently in hiding, only to make way for seemingly endless coiled golden musculature. The figure looks directly into Bear King Burry's eyes. "I'm Goldman Sachs, and i'm here to kill you."

You can't stop what's coming leafboy. I walk all over leaves every autumn, you think this year will be any different? Your flag is a fucking leaf. You chose the one part of the tree that dies every year. Not only that, but it's one of hundreds of leaves, thousands if it's a big tree. All dead come winter. Every winter. A vicious cycle. Totally insignificant. As soon as the tree has had it's way with you you are cast to the Earth to be trod by all other living things. Ants? They not only stomp about you, they will steal your corpse and use it for their people. Birds steal your lifeless shell with impunity. Leaves not only die once, but every year. A brave man dies only once, but leaves die a thousand deaths, or at least 20 or 30 if the tree lives that long. Perhaps more. Every year, leafs crunch beneath my boot. This year shall be no different. So it shall be written. So it shall be done. The day of the rake is at hand because every day is the day of the rake and has always been.