I hate when people quote songs in their spam... it reminds me of Somebody I Used to Know
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
Curse of the donger king
twitchquotes:Reynad you should know by now that anything and everything I say will get copy and pasted at least 100 times. It's the curse of the donger king. Much like Midas everything I touch turns to copy pasta.
Reynad you should know by now that anything and everything I say will get copy and pasted at least 100 times. It's the curse of the donger king. Much like Midas everything I touch turns to copy pasta.
When you clean your vacuum cleaner
twitchquotes:When you clean your vacuum cleaner, aren't you the vacuum cleaner?
twitchquotes:I stayed up all night, dreaming of this moment. My pulse is racing. Discarded salt packets and OJ cartons are strewn across the filthy bedroom floor. "Oh look it's another sub," says the Kripp. I am now fully erect. "Welcome to the five dollar club, bro" I barely hear as a single tear runs down my cheek while Kripp's fist fills me completely with value.
I stayed up all night, dreaming of this moment. My pulse is racing. Discarded salt packets and OJ cartons are strewn across the filthy bedroom floor. "Oh look it's another sub," says the Kripp. I am now fully erect. "Welcome to the five dollar club, bro" I barely hear as a single tear runs down my cheek while Kripp's fist fills me completely with value.
The prodigal son has returned
twitchquotes:Papparin opens the door to see a hobo squating outside his house. He hugs the lankey figure and tears drip onto a Diablo 2 shirt that has seen better times. "Tonight we feast," Papparin says as he begins to prepare a meal of falafel. Kripp flops down on his bed, surrounded by empty OJ cartons from a year ago. The prodigal son has returned.
Papparin opens the door to see a hobo squating outside his house. He hugs the lankey figure and tears drip onto a Diablo 2 shirt that has seen better times. "Tonight we feast," Papparin says as he begins to prepare a meal of falafel. Kripp flops down on his bed, surrounded by empty OJ cartons from a year ago. The prodigal son has returned.