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More Classic Copypastas
GME to the moon
. ✦ ˚ *
. . ✦
,
. . ﾟ . ☀️if we hold .
, .
. . .
✦
, 🚀 gme ,
.
. ˚
, .
. . *
✦
. . .
. 🌑 . .
˚ ﾟ . .
🌎 if we sell , *
. . ✦
˚ *
. .
WallStreetBets
Classic
Handsome Squidward
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣀⣀⣠⣤⣤⣄⣀⣀⣀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⠤⠖⠊⠉⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠉⠙⠲⢤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡤⠊⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡜⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢢⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠱⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠈⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠈⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡰⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⡆⡜⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢧⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣀⣤⡂⠀⠇⠱⠀⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢄⡀⢠⣟⢭⣥⣤⠽⡆⠀⡶⣊⣉⣲⣤⢀⡞⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡀⠀⠐⠂⠘⠄⣈⣙⡡⡴⠀⠀⠙⣄⠙⣛⠜⠘⣆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢦⡀⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠄⠊⠀⠀⠀⠀⡸⠛⠀⠀⠀⢸⠆⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠓⠦⢄⣘⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡠⠀⠀⠀⠀⣇⡀⠀⠀⣠⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣸⠁⠈⡟⠒⠲⣄⠀⠀⡰⠇⠖⢄⠀⠀⡹⡇⢀⠎⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡇⠀⠀⡇⠀⠀⠹⠀⡞⠀⠀⢀⠤⣍⠭⡀⢱⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣀⣠⠞⠀⠀⢠⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠁⠀⢴⠥⠤⠦⠦⡼⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣀⣤⣴⣶⣿⣿⡟⠁⠀⠋⠀⠀⠀⢸⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠑⣠⢤⠐⠁⠀⢸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠬⠥⣄⠀⠀⠈⠲⡄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠙⠦⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⢳⠀⠀⢀⣿⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠒⠦⠤⢤⣄⣀⣠⠤⢿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣶⣤⡀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡼⠁⠀⠀⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠀⠀⠀⠀
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣦⣤⣤⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣀⣤⣤⣤⣶⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠀⠀⠀
Classic
I spend all day working my ass off at the pasta factory
twitchquotes:
I spend all day working my ass off at the pasta factory trying to provide pasta to hard-working people all across the world. After a long day of work, I come to Kripp's chat to unwind and have thought-driven discussions about my favorite game and favorite streamer. When I get here, however, all I see is pasta after pasta. All I want to do is escape my miserable life, but you fucks keep spamming.
twitch chat
Classic
I hate Twitch Chat
This is the world we have wrought
twitchquotes:
The year is 2129; humans can only communicate through increasingly garbled copy-pasta. A man approaches and says "ire: ███ 10 ｓｔｒｏｋｅ ｄｉｃｋ ff ☑ EKT ☾ ☆ ¸. ?" In confusion, I reply "AT ASCII ຈل͜ل͜ຈຈ༽༽ﾉﾉ HA ʙᴏʟᴀ ヽ༼ಢ_ ♌ ❛ั∗)◞ TUCK F (◡‿◡✿)". This is the world we have wrought.
twitch chat
Classic
Why is six afraid of seven? Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam
Why is six afraid of seven?
Six hasn't been the same since he left Vietnam. He can seldom close his eyes without opening them again at fear of Charlies lurking in the jungle trees. Not that you could ever see the bastards, mind you. They were swift, and they knew their way around the jungle like nothing else. He remembers the looks on the boys' faces as he walked into that village and... oh, Jesus. The memories seldom left him, either. Sometimes he'd reminisce - even hear - Tex's southern drawl. He remembers the smell of Brooklyn's cigarettes like nothing else. He always kept a pack of Lucky's with him. The boys are gone, now. He knows that; it's just that he forgets, sometimes. And, every now and then, the way that seven looks at him with avid concern in his eyes... it makes him think. Sets him on edge. Makes him feel like he's back there... in the jungle.