FeelsBadMan THAT MOMENT FeelsBadMan WHEN YOU REALIZE FeelsBadMan THAT YOUR ONLY FRIEND FeelsBadMan IS TWITCH CHAT FeelsBadMan
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Do you have what it takes to be a Memester?
slow claps
steps out of the shadows
Heh... not bad, kid. Not bad at all. Your meme, I mean. It's not bad. A good first attempt. It's plenty dank... I can tell it's got some thought behind it... lots of quotable material... But memeing isn't all sunshine and rainbows, kid. You're skilled... that much I can tell. But do you have what it takes to be a Memester? To join those esteemed meme ranks? To call yourself a member of the Ruseman's Corps? Memeing takes talent, that much is true. But more than that it takes heart. The world-class Memesters - I mean the big guys, like Johnny Hammersticks and Billy Kuahana - they're out there day and night, burning the midnight meme-oil, working tirelessly to craft that next big meme. And you know what, kid? 99 times out of a hundred, that new meme fails. Someone dismisses it as bait, or says it's "tryhard," or ignores it as they copy/paste the latest shitpost copypasta dreamt up by those sorry excuses for cut-rate memers over at reddit. The Meme Game is rough, kid, and I don't just mean the one you just lost :). It's a rough business, and for every artisan meme you craft in your meme bakery, some cocksucker at 9gag has a picture of a duck or some shit that a million different Johnny No-Names will attach a milion different captions to. Chin up, kid. Don't get all mopey on me. You've got skill. You've got talent. You just need to show your drive.
See you on the boards...
slow claps
steps out of the shadows
Heh... not bad, kid. Not bad at all. Your meme, I mean. It's not bad. A good first attempt. It's plenty dank... I can tell it's got some thought behind it... lots of quotable material... But memeing isn't all sunshine and rainbows, kid. You're skilled... that much I can tell. But do you have what it takes to be a Memester? To join those esteemed meme ranks? To call yourself a member of the Ruseman's Corps? Memeing takes talent, that much is true. But more than that it takes heart. The world-class Memesters - I mean the big guys, like Johnny Hammersticks and Billy Kuahana - they're out there day and night, burning the midnight meme-oil, working tirelessly to craft that next big meme. And you know what, kid? 99 times out of a hundred, that new meme fails. Someone dismisses it as bait, or says it's "tryhard," or ignores it as they copy/paste the latest shitpost copypasta dreamt up by those sorry excuses for cut-rate memers over at reddit. The Meme Game is rough, kid, and I don't just mean the one you just lost :). It's a rough business, and for every artisan meme you craft in your meme bakery, some cocksucker at 9gag has a picture of a duck or some shit that a million different Johnny No-Names will attach a milion different captions to. Chin up, kid. Don't get all mopey on me. You've got skill. You've got talent. You just need to show your drive.
See you on the boards...
A 31 yo Oak Tree named Clara
twitchquotes:Hi Kripp, I've been following you for a while now, and today is a big day for me : I'm gonna get married. As weird as it looks, you've been a huge inspiration to me : since I've discovered your stream, I decided to go Vegan, and that's how I met my future wife : a 31 yo Oak Tree named Clara. Thanks again for streaming!
Hi Kripp, I've been following you for a while now, and today is a big day for me : I'm gonna get married. As weird as it looks, you've been a huge inspiration to me : since I've discovered your stream, I decided to go Vegan, and that's how I met my future wife : a 31 yo Oak Tree named Clara. Thanks again for streaming!
Christmas for a wsb trader
As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some.
How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully.
“Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps.
The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls.
After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.
As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some.
How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully.
“Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps.
The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls.
After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.
The year is 2037. Ligma is now the name of a real disease
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
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
only the realest player will dunk this
twitchquotes: / 🏀 TRUE BALLER TEST only the realest player will dunk this 🗑