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NOT EVERYONE IN THE CHAT CAN WEAR HAT 
NOT EVERYONE IN THE CHAT CAN WEAR HAT
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NEVER, EVER BAN COPYPASTAS AGAIN
A GOAT says...
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🐮 says moo 🦆 says quack 🐶 says bark But the 🐐 says FIRE AT WILL! NERF THIS! EXPERIENCE TRANQUILITY! HAMMER DOWN! RALLY TO ME! OH LETS BREAK IT DOWN!
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⠄⠄⢀⣠⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣦⣄⡀⠄
⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶
⠄⠄⠰⣿⠿⢋⣉⣀⣀⣤⣤⣭⣽⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠛⠿⠿⢿⣿
⠄⣠⣾⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣦⣤⡙
⢠⣿⣿⣿⣟⣉⣡⣀⣂⣰⣬⣙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⣛⡛⣛⠛⠿⢿⣿
⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣭⣭⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⠶⠶⢾⣦⣬⣿
⢹⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠄⠙⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠛⠛⠻⠿⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⠄⠄⠄⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣶⣤⣶⣦⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿
⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠸⣿⣿⣿⡿⠿⠟⠛⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠁⠄
⣿⡆⠄⠄⡀⠄⣿⡇⠈⠒⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⠛⣿⣿⠋⢀⠠⠄⢀
⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⢾⣿⣿⣷⠄⠹⣷⣤⣤⣄⣀⣠⣶⣶⣦⣾⣿⡿⠄⠄⠄⢠⣾
⣿⣿⡆⠄⠄⠈⠙⢿⣉⠄⠄⠉⠻⠿⢿⣿⠿⠋⠉⣿⣿⣟⣥⠄⢀⣰⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣧⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠻⠶⠄⢠⡄⠄⠄⠄⠄⢰⣿⠿⢉⣿⣿⣴⣾⣿⣿⣿
Chungus has no beginning. Chungus has no end
Chungus has no beginning. Chungus has no end. Chungus is infinite. Millions of years after our civilization has been eradicated and forgotten, Chungus will endure.
Chungus is eternal. The pinnacle of evolution and existence.
We are but rudimentary creatures of blood and flesh. We touch Chungus' mind, fumbling in ignorance, incapable of understanding.
Organic life is nothing but a genetic mutation, an accident. Our lives are measured in years and decades. We wither and die. Chungus is eternal. Before it, we are nothing.
Chungus imposes order on the chaos of organic life. We exist because Chungus allows it, and we will end because Chungus demands it.
Chungus transcends our very understanding. We cannot grasp the nature of Chungus' existence.
Biden's America
The year is 2021. You look at the television. SIlver fox President Biden announces a vaccine mandate for employees. You clutch your limited edition Trump Funko Pop. It has begun. You gather up all your belongings, and jump into your truck, hitting the highway for the airport. Out of your rearview mirror you can make out a sleek black Prius pursuing you. You make out the numbers “1” “9” “8” and 4” on their license plate. You are able to lose the Prius and arrive at the airport. You are almost free. At airport security You see a young man being dragged away screaming. The guards yell something about him having more than 3.4 oz of liquid. Thankfully you only have an AR 15 on you. The guard inspects it.
“It’s for hunting,” you say.
They hand it back to you and wave for you to move along. You breathe a sigh of relief.
“One more thing.”
You turn to see a Guard staring down at you with their beady soulless eyes.
“I need to see your vaccination card”
It is too late. You try to run away, but you feel someone press a cloth against your face. Reality fades away. You wake up in some kind of lab, chained down to an operation table and gagged. The room is undecorated except for a single poster of Harry Styles in a dress on the wall. A single figure stands in the corner shrouded in shadow, fiddling with a syringe. As they step out of the shadow, you can make out their face, the roguishly handsome Gavin Newsom. He positions a large surgical headlight above you and turns it on. He holds up the large syringe to the light and chuckles, staring into your pleading eyes.
“Don't worry, it will all be over soon”
He removes his mask to reveal his serpent's tongue, flickering in amusement. He plunges the syringe straight through your “socialism is for figs” shirt into your arm.
“Nighty night”
Your world fades to black once more.