Popular Copypastas

Can someone explain xQc to me? I watched his stream for the first time yesterday (always just seen him in clips) and he spent roughly 80-90% of the stream slamming his desk after he farts. Is that what all his streams are? Does he not do anything else but fart and slam all day?

Hey👋 there you 👈🤡 STAR⭐⭐ WHORES💃😩😜! Know🤔 what day 🌞 it is🤭🧐🤔🤔🤔? You 👈🍑 guessed 🤔 it😆😆, its may 🗓 the girth🌭🌭 be with you 👈 day 📆. These are definitely 💯 the voids⚫🍩I'm looking👀👁️ to fill 💦🤰. Stop✋✋ doing the hand🍆✊✊ 💦solo and darth 💀 maul👄 this pussy😺😹😽. Time 🕐🕠🕣 to get 🉐🔛 princess👸👸👸 leia-d💏. Daddy 🍆👨🐴 😉💖💦vader better 👍 force 🖐 choke🤞🤞💪👐 me. Don't 🚫 🚫want no 🚫 😣😣baby👶🍼 yoda🤰🤰 so into the garbage 🗑 chute🗑️🍑🍑, flyboy🦸‍♂️🚀. Cant 🚫 rule👑 the galaxy💫 so I'll 📝 just settle 👍 for Uranus🪐. Send⬆️ this to all 💯 your 👉 other STAR 🌟✨🌠 ⭐⭐ WHORES💃😩😜!!!! If you 👉🤖 get 🉐 5️⃣ back 🔙 you 👉 are a dirty😛😫😘 wookie 🐶. If you 👉 get 🉐 1️⃣0️⃣ back 🔙 you 👉 are granted 🐩🙏🏾 a seat💺 on 🔛 🔛🔛the seNUT💦💦. If you 👉 get 🉐 1️⃣5️⃣ back⬅️⬅️ you 👈🏼 are a padaHUN😘💋. If you 👉😭 get 🉐 2️⃣0️⃣ back 🔙 you 👉🏼👤❤ are a real 😍 Jedi 🗡👎 mastwhore💯💘😩🙈🙆‍♂️

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.

At the beginning of this month, my boyfriend received an email from his brother with the subject "Dude check this out" and a Google Doc called "!!NEW RAP!!". When my boyfriend opened it, all that was on the doc was a picture of Nikocado Avocado’s asshole. When my boyfriend texted his brother about receiving his email, he replied "what email?". They’ve been going back and forth since about the email, my boyfriend’s brother saying he never sent an email and my boyfriend thinking he’s keeping up the act. What my boyfriend doesn’t know is I sent the email. I made an almost identical looking email, one letter off, and even managed to find the exact email profile picture from his brother’s LinkedIn. Now it kills me every time I see them go at it. I’m literally pissing myself as I write this.

I bought a whole bunch of Suge Knight Albums, do you know who Suge Knight is? Anybody know who Suge Knight is? No, not shungite, those stupid fuckin rocks that crazy antivaxxers buy. I'm talkin' Suge Knight. Anyways, he's a popular music executive, but now in prison because he murdered somebody. That's my story, I bought a whole bunch of albums. Put 'em around the la casa. Little records, stuff like that.

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

I don’t know if you’re new here, so I’ll let you off the hook this time. Using emojis is frowned upon here on this great site, and for good reason. Instagram normies often use them, and you don’t want to be a normie, do you? If I catch you using an emoji in the future, I’ll be forced to issue a downvote to your comment. Why should you care, you may ask? Well to begin, you will lose karma on your account, which is a useful social status tool and also a way to show others you know your way around Reddit. If you were to continue the use of emojis, I would be forced to privately message you about your slip-up. Any further offenses past that would leave me no other option than to report your account. I don’t think I have to explain why you don’t want that. But anyways, no harm done yet! Follow these simple rules and you’ll enjoy your future on Reddit! Have a blessed (and hopefully emoji-free) day, stranger.

An Afghan, an Albanian, an Algerian, an American, an Andorran, an Angolan, an Antiguans, an Argentine, an Armenian, an Australian, an Austrian, an Azerbaijani, a Bahamian, a Bahraini, a Bangladeshi, a Barbadian, a Barbudans, a Batswanan, a Belarusian, a Belgian, a Belizean, a Beninese, a Bhutanese, a Bolivian, a Bosnian, a Brazilian, a Brit, a Bruneian, a Bulgarian, a Burkinabe, a Burmese, a Burundian, a Cambodian, a Cameroonian, a Canadian, a Cape Verdean, a Central African, a Chadian, a Chilean, a Chinese, a Colombian, a Comoran, a Congolese, a Costa Rican, a Croatian, a Cuban, a Cypriot, a Czech, a Dane, a Djibouti, a Dominican, a Dutchman, an East Timorese, an Ecuadorean, an Egyptian, an Emirian, an Equatorial Guinean, an Eritrean, an Estonian, an Ethiopian, a Fijian, a Filipino, a Finn, a Frenchman, a Gabonese, a Gambian, a Georgian, a German, a Ghanaian, a Greek, a Grenadian, a Guatemalan, a Guinea-Bissauan, a Guinean, a Guyanese, a Haitian, a Herzegovinian, a Honduran, a Hungarian, an I-Kiribati, an Icelander, an Indian, an Indonesian, an Iranian, an Iraqi, an Irishman, an Israeli, an Italian, an Ivorian, a Jamaican, a Japanese, a Jordanian, a Kazakhstani, a Kenyan, a Kittian and Nevisian, a Kuwaiti, a Kyrgyz, a Laotian, a Latvian, a Lebanese, a Liberian, a Libyan, a Liechtensteiner, a Lithuanian, a Luxembourger, a Macedonian, a Malagasy, a Malawian, a Malaysian, a Maldivan, a Malian, a Maltese, a Marshallese, a Mauritanian, a Mauritian, a Mexican, a Micronesian, a Moldovan, a Monacan, a Mongolian, a Moroccan, a Mosotho, a Motswana, a Mozambican, a Namibian, a Nauruan, a Nepalese, a New Zealander, a Nicaraguan, a Nigerian, a Nigerien, a North Korean, a Northern Irishman, a Norwegian, an Omani, a Pakistani, a Palauan, a Palestinian, a Panamanian, a Papua New Guinean, a Paraguayan, a Peruvian, a Pole, a Portuguese, a Qatari, a Romanian, a Russian, a Rwandan, a Saint Lucian, a Salvadoran, a Samoan, a San Marinese, a Sao Tomean, a Saudi, a Scottish, a Senegalese, a Serbian, a Seychellois, a Sierra Leonean, a Singaporean, a Slovakian, a Slovenian, a Solomon Islander, a Somali, a South African, a South Korean, a Spaniard, a Sri Lankan, a Sudanese, a Surinamer, a Swazi, a Swede, a Swiss, a Syrian, a Taiwanese, a Tajik, a Tanzanian, a Togolese, a Tongan, a Trinidadian or Tobagonian, a Tunisian, a Turkish, a Tuvaluan, a Ugandan, a Ukrainian, a Uruguayan, a Uzbekistani, a Venezuelan, a Vietnamese, a Welshman, a Yemenite, a Zambian and a Zimbabwean all go to a nightclub... The doorman stops them and says “Sorry, I can’t let you in without a Thai.”

Donald Trump shuffled toward the entrance of his suite with considerable effort, swiping at his brow and rubbing his fingers together in vexation. All he could think about was Joe Biden's clever, biting remarks about his person and his dress shirt, which has gotten too small for him over the course of a month and now chafed uncomfortably around his shoulders and his stomach. Surely he had won the debate, he thought as he tightened himself around the plug that his wife had wedged inside of him; he was louder than good ol’ Sleepy Joe, and if that is not an indication of winning, then nothing is. He stopped just outside of his room and attempted to fish out his key card from his breast pocket, resisting a strong urge to tear out his hair in vexation as he realized that he had forgotten the damned thing in the room. His secret agents stopped a couple respectful feet behind him, the silence felt almost mocking. He turned around. "What is your name again, Demetri? Surely you have a copy?" He said, the strength in his words petered out as he scrutinized the expressionless faces of the men before him. Though they were dressed impeccably, Don could not find Demetri – or whatever that secret fanfiction poster’s name was – among the men before him. Odd. Did they give him a memo regarding this change? He almost stumbled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Startled, he spun around and found himself face to face with Joe Biden. Oh, the bastard's followed him all the way up here. Don began. “Listen, mister, I don’t know what you are doing following me to my room, and if you don’t stop my man will....” Joe laughed. "Men, stand down and stand by," Joe said with a drawl. Don's tiny pig eyes widened with surprise, but he swallowed all insults and protests bubbling at the back of his throat as soon as he felt something resembling the muzzle of a handgun wedged under his collar and into the back of his neck. Don dared not to yell and merely gasped as he felt Joe’s perspiring hand crept up his wrinkly auburn neck, tugging at his tie. Speechless at the scene unfolding before him, he squeezed his eyes shut as his remaining braincell struggle to come up with something, anything that can make Joe stop. Joe handed his gun to the nearest agent. "Keep your eyes on him, folks." Don almost sagged in relief, but tensed at another hand tracing a careful line from his trembling chest to his half-awakened member and froze as he sensed Joe nuzzling into the top of Don’s head, burying his nose into Don’s flowing blonde curls. Joe sighed and sniffed at his hair; it was a harsh, rattling sound that made Don quiver and whimper. “Will you shut up, man?” Joe said, tilting his head up and crushing his lips into Don’s with such a passion that made Don’s knees weak with desire, a lust that crackles at the point of contact and shots down to his groin, a rippling pleasure unlike any he had felt before in his senile spine. He moaned into the kiss and lifted a tiny orange hand, carding his sausage fingers in Joe’s hair as the kiss deepens, eagerly drinking in the taste of his biggest political rival— peppermint, moth balls, and something that is so deliciously and uniquely Joe that made him shudder at every flick and twirl of Joe’s tongue. He let out a muffled keen as Joe began to suckle on his tongue, making vulgar, wet noises that seemed to reverberate in the hallway. They separated, both dizzy in the heat of their exhalations. Don bit down on his paper-thin bottom lip to suppress another moan, grasping at Joe’s dress shirt with his timid yet desperate little hands. He managed to get his stubby fingers on the first button of Joe’s garment before Joe swatted his hands away, grasping his wrists and pinning it on the wall behind him. “Get the f— fuck off of me, Sleepy Joe,” Don whined, straining against the restraint. Affected by a myriad of permanent health consequences of COVID-19 and breathless from arousal, he huffed with parted lips as Joe leaned in, whose breath fanned hotly over his already churning face. Joe chuckled. “Riled up, aren’t you?” He said. Joe sneaked two pale fingers under the sweat-drenched fabric of Don’s partially unbuttoned top and squeezed at one of his saggy man tits, rubbing and twisting his nipple until the bit of flesh between Joe’s fingers swell with interest. The strange sensation made Don struggle against Joe’s hand once more, aching to lay his hands on his fully hardened member. Yet Joe’s vise-like grip only tightened minutely in response, the other hand explored his squirming form, palming his thighs and cupping his ass, squeezing and touching anywhere but his cock. "I – Let me –" Don said, panting with exertion and watching with desperation as Joe freed his erection from the confines of his own slacks instead, stroking it languidly. Joe said with a chuckle, "What did I say about using your big boy words, eh Donnie? What's the magic word?" Joe let the tip of his index finger graze the exposed patches of pale, wrinkly skin, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth as Don arched into his touch. Don gulped audibly, his cheeks burning with shame as he heard himself say, "let me touch myself." "You forgot to say the magic word." "Please," Don said, almost inaudible, and his whole body quaked at Joe's hand nimbly undoing his fly and grasping loosely around his inadequate length, giving it a few purposefully lackluster pumps before it slid down and under his wrinkly ball sack. He felt Joe’s fingers pause as it touched the smooth, circular base of his plug, tracing around it inquisitively. “Naughty, naughty boy, wearing his little toy to a presidential debate, huh?” Joe said, fingers digging between the base of the plug and Don’s skin and gave it a violent twist, shoving his index finger alongside the plug. The sudden movement made Don clinch down on the newfound fullness that was almost painful, which sent a pang of humiliating ecstasy that churned hotly in Don’s stomach. Joe hooked his fingers around the base and pulled the plug out completely, giving Don hardly any time to breathe before sending it back in with a cruel thrust; the lines deepened with a smirk on Joe’s wrinkly raisin face as Don moaned wantonly, bucking his hips back toward Joe’s hand impatiently as he began to fuck Don with the toy at a torturously slow pace. Joe leaned in, nibbling Don’s earlobe after licking a smoldering stripe on the shell of Don’s ear. “Your little cock is leaking, Donnie boy, so eager, so desperate for more,” he said in a rumbling, guttural whisper as he took out the plug, which parted with Don’s hole with a moist pop. Don whined at the sudden vacancy inside him, his watery blue eyes filled with tears of yearning and humiliation, looking at the passionless face of his political rival through the haze of arousal, unsure if he wanted to plead or wanted to kill. He tightened his hole again and felt the loss, the lack. He knew what he had to do. “Please,” Don rasped, tasting the word as it took form as if he was saying it for the first time. Joe mercifully complied without further biting comments, spreading Don’s legs and without a warning, slid into Don’s slick, loosened hole with relative ease. Don groaned at the intrusion, clenching around the familiar width and rutting his hips to the rhythm. Joe cursed under his breath and finally let go of Don’s wrists, lifting Don’s thighs and spreading him out further before he snapped his hips and slammed his cock inside of Don at a relentless pace. Don could do nothing but to hold onto Joe’s forearms as the latter used him, moaning and wailing at every reentry as he worked his tiny hand about his equally tiny dick with fervor. Climax hit him at the rate of the increase in unemployment rate during his mishandling of a global pandemic and every subsequent plunge in his overstimulated hole made him see white, and Joe too came all over Don’s ruined suit after a few irregular thrusts. Don yelped as Joe let go of him, his tub of lard body slammed into the ground with a painful thud. He sat there dazed as Joe tucked himself back in and mumbled lowly. “I am going to fire all of you, and I will sue you, I am suing every single one of you –“ Joe laughed mirthlessly. “Republitard seethe, Joe Mama 2020.” Don’s unfocused gaze seemed to be locked on the floral pattern of the carpet beneath him as the men departed. The door beside him creaked open and from which Mel emerged. “Donald? A good fucking I hope?” He didn’t look at her; he simply grunted in response. Mel sighed with exasperation, tapping the wooden frame of the entrance impatiently. “Can you at least clean up? I arranged a cuckholding session with the Mexican hooker and I want you as a part of it.” “Okay,” Don said. And when he finally looked up, the woman’s face was a stiff, strange marble form upon which a scowl was etched eternally, bearing nothing more than a semblance to the woman that he had briefly loved. As the author I would normally delve deeper into the emotional landscape of our victim as it brings the story to life, but it is hard to imagine that such a two-faced, immoral, unintelligent animal like Don would have the heart and soul necessary for feelings beyond insatiable greed and rage.