There are too many people that call themselves what they are not, including on this very server. The design industry seems the worst, but I'm sure its the same in other professions. Everyone with 3 months of some Google class, suddenly calls themself an UI/UX Designer, while the craft (especially UX) takes years to develop. I also know a lot of professional designers that have 20+ years of experience, and still don't call themselves experts. Lucky for us, the professional market also sees through those fake designers. So, hone your craft, become better, and stop calling yourselves UI/UX Designers, when you are not. Or Full Stack Developer, when you only do HTML and CSS. Or Open Heart Surgeon, when you are only a masseuse.
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
Pole Dancer Navy Seal Copypasta
What the *** did you just *** say about me, you little ***? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Pole Dancers, and I’ve been involved in numerous strips, and I have over 300 confirmed handstands. I am trained in pole warfare and I’m the top Ashley in the entire US strip forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the *** out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my *** hearthstone chat. You think you can get away with saying that *** to me over the Internet? Think again, fuckers.
Navy Seal
We can't blame market
To be fair "but I poop from there" wasn't an explicit "no". We can't blame market for doing what it did.
WallStreetBets
It has been 4 hours since I successfully sucked...
It has been 4 hours since I successfully sucked my own penis. Things are different now. As soon as mouth-to-penis contact was made I felt a shockwave through my body. I have reason to believe I have super strength and telekinesis now.. 3 hours after contact I noticed a van parked on my street but no one has entered or exited the car since its arrival. I fear for my safety, I'm not sure what sort of power I may have stumbled upon but it's possible that the government has found out
Classic
Amogus 700 years in the future
Imagine, 700 years in the future, through some last vestige of the internet kept in an underground server, a notification miraculously appears on your device (which has been preserved in nuclear dust from the 5th world war). One night, an alien working a late shift at the museum of archeology notices the cracked screen suddenly light up, and upon it, one word arises from the battered code: Amogus. They do not know what this word means. They ponder it deeply. They scour the ancient tomes, desperate to understand its mystifying origin. It drives them mad. Is it a primeval cipher? The motto of a bygone civilization? A message from God? Night after night they study it by candlelight. They flip through pages in books so old, the slightest cough would turn the paper to a fine off-white powder. The answer is nowhere to be found. And then they are struck by a revelation: I was not meant to know this word. Its esoteric nature escapes my grasp for a reason. What if its meaning is too enlightening to bear? With this revelation comes anger. Spite. Despair. Why shouldn't I understand it?! What cosmic forces are there at play to keep me from such knowledge?! In a fit of desperate rage, they shatter your device against a wall and exclaim, arms raised to the heavens: "This is literally 1984!" Silence... Their pleas are unanswered. Sadly, in the end, their inability to unlock the word's meaning drives them to suicide. Its secrets are never known. So I ask you this: is it better to die having never understood the true mind-bending nature of Amogus, or to be driven mad by the little spaceman in his blood-red suit? If you knew enlightenment would render you incapable of living on this mortal earth without making daily references to a game of space mafia, would you accept it? With knowledge comes power, but also endless suffering. Choose wisely, and be wary when standing at the edge of that great abyss we call "the Truth," lest you fall too deep.
Among Us / Amogus
My poop story
twitchquotes:
My poop story.
I lived in a dookie (pun on purpose) apartment complex in a college town, literally $300 a month, on a river in the south. So a small and always very high maintenance team worked for them. They showed up (stoned) and were changing everyone’s filters. Heard. Ok come in. I had a particularly funky little caesars pizza not an hour before the incident. We were making small talk and such as these things tend to linger, I suddenly felt a disturbance in my lower gut (bubbleguts). I felt confident in my distance from the maintenance guy that I got squeeze out a fart and then distract him into another room. This was no fart. At slightest bit of effort I put towards this fart a flood of terrible pizza diarrhea shot out of my ass like a goddamn rocket. As I was staring this man in the eye. I was staring another human being in the eyes...while I pooed my pants. To this day not only do I have no clue if he knew or not but I would still pay thousands of dollars to just see my face when that happened.
That is my poop story.
twitch chat