When you clean your vacuum cleaner, aren't you the vacuum cleaner? :thinking:
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
Kripp's handicapped half-cousin from Romania, Kripple
twitchquotes:Dear Kripp, this is you handicapped half-cousin from Romania, Kripple. I need you help for my medical bill. I owe Doctor $5,000 and he only accept 5 dollar bill. Plz help. If I don't pay he take my good leg. Sincerlirino, Kripple J. Morospam
Dear Kripp, this is you handicapped half-cousin from Romania, Kripple. I need you help for my medical bill. I owe Doctor $5,000 and he only accept 5 dollar bill. Plz help. If I don't pay he take my good leg. Sincerlirino, Kripple J. Morospam
Your deck is insane, Trump said
twitchquotes:"Your deck is insane." Trump said, as he slipped his feminine hand into Kripp's pants and smirked. "Are you trying to top-deck me?" protests Kripp, as Trump blushes, the boyish figure undressed before Kripp. "Weak tempo play, Trump." The two kissed, deeply and passionately, and afterwards Trump places his Leper Gnome into Kripp's Twisting Nether.
"Your deck is insane." Trump said, as he slipped his feminine hand into Kripp's pants and smirked. "Are you trying to top-deck me?" protests Kripp, as Trump blushes, the boyish figure undressed before Kripp. "Weak tempo play, Trump." The two kissed, deeply and passionately, and afterwards Trump places his Leper Gnome into Kripp's Twisting Nether.
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.
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.
twitchquotes:Infinite poop. You sit on the toilet to poop, but the poop never stops coming out of your butt. You have to start flushing the toilet every two minutes to keep up. You try to pinch your butt closed but that makes your insides hurt. The poop accelerates. You call 911. The paramedics call for doctors. The doctors call for specialists. The story trends on Twitter. You turn down talk show appearances. Your septic tank fails. People form a cult. Your toilet is finished. Volunteers arrive with buckets and shovels. You are completely used to the smell. The poop accelerates. You are moved to a stepladder with a hole in the top step. The poop accelerates. The shovelers abandon the buckets and shovel directly out the window. The poop accelerates. A candlelight vigil forms around your house. One of the workers falls over and can't free himself. The poop accelerates. A priest knocks over the stepladder and tackles you out the window. You land in the pile. The poop accelerates. The force now propels you forward and upward. Vigil goers grab at your legs. The poop ignites from their candles. The Facebook live event hits 1 million viewers. The poop accelerates. You are 30 feet in the air. The fire engulfs the vigil and your house. 60 feet. The poop accelerates. The torrent underneath you is deafening. 5 million Facebook live viewers. You try to close up shop but your butthole disintegrated long ago. 120 feet up. Your house explodes. The poop accelerates. 1000 feet. You are now tracked on radar. You try to change your angle of ascent but you should have thought of that way earlier. The poop accelerates. 4,000 feet. NORAD upgrades to DEFCON 3. Concentric circles of fire engulf your city. The poop accelerates. You have broken the sound barrier. 30,000 feet. You no longer take in enough oxygen to sustain consciousness. 60,000 feet. CNN is reporting on all the world records you've broken. 200,000 feet. You are no longer alive. The poop accelerates. Your body disintegrates but your poop contrail remains. NASA can no longer track you. You break the light-speed barrier and we can no longer bear witness. The poop accelerates. Forever.
Infinite poop. You sit on the toilet to poop, but the poop never stops coming out of your butt. You have to start flushing the toilet every two minutes to keep up. You try to pinch your butt closed but that makes your insides hurt. The poop accelerates. You call 911. The paramedics call for doctors. The doctors call for specialists. The story trends on Twitter. You turn down talk show appearances. Your septic tank fails. People form a cult. Your toilet is finished. Volunteers arrive with buckets and shovels. You are completely used to the smell. The poop accelerates. You are moved to a stepladder with a hole in the top step. The poop accelerates. The shovelers abandon the buckets and shovel directly out the window. The poop accelerates. A candlelight vigil forms around your house. One of the workers falls over and can't free himself. The poop accelerates. A priest knocks over the stepladder and tackles you out the window. You land in the pile. The poop accelerates. The force now propels you forward and upward. Vigil goers grab at your legs. The poop ignites from their candles. The Facebook live event hits 1 million viewers. The poop accelerates. You are 30 feet in the air. The fire engulfs the vigil and your house. 60 feet. The poop accelerates. The torrent underneath you is deafening. 5 million Facebook live viewers. You try to close up shop but your butthole disintegrated long ago. 120 feet up. Your house explodes. The poop accelerates. 1000 feet. You are now tracked on radar. You try to change your angle of ascent but you should have thought of that way earlier. The poop accelerates. 4,000 feet. NORAD upgrades to DEFCON 3. Concentric circles of fire engulf your city. The poop accelerates. You have broken the sound barrier. 30,000 feet. You no longer take in enough oxygen to sustain consciousness. 60,000 feet. CNN is reporting on all the world records you've broken. 200,000 feet. You are no longer alive. The poop accelerates. Your body disintegrates but your poop contrail remains. NASA can no longer track you. You break the light-speed barrier and we can no longer bear witness. The poop accelerates. Forever.