[Copypasta] For people that use "XD"

twitchquotes: But the real question is, when this musing entered your mind, did you really make such a face? Was it so funny that your face contorted into a gaping wide-mouthed smile as your eyes aggressively squinted shut? Did you truly "ex dee"? Were you able to see your screen as you typed with your eyes held steadfast as though they were steel vice grips clamping with hundreds of pounds of force?
twitch chat
February 2019
(▀̿Ĺ̯├┬┴┬┴ Psst... kid, you wanna disable adblock?
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Mew

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⡴⠞⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⡔⠋⠀⢰⠎⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢆⣤⡞⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣼⢠⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⢀⣀⣾⢳⠀⠀⠀⠀⢸⢠⠃⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⣀⡤⠴⠊⠉⠀⠀⠈⠳⡀⠀⠀⠘⢎⠢⣀⣀⣀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠳⣄⠀⠀⡠⡤⡀⠀⠘⣇⡀⠀⠀⠀⠉⠓⠒⠺⠭⢵⣦⡀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⢹⡆⠀⢷⡇⠁⠀⠀⣸⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⢤⠀⠀⠘⢷⣆⡀⠀ ⠀⠀⠘⠒⢤⡄⠖⢾⣭⣤⣄⠀⡔⢢⠀⡀⠎⣸⠀⠀⠀⠀⠹⣿⡀ ⠀⠀⢀⡤⠜⠃⠀⠀⠘⠛⣿⢸⠀⡼⢠⠃⣤⡟⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⣿⡇ ⠀⠀⠸⠶⠖⢏⠀⠀⢀⡤⠤⠇⣴⠏⡾⢱⡏⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀⢠⣿⠃ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⣇⡀⠿⠀⠀⠀⡽⣰⢶⡼⠇⠀⠀⠀⠀⣠⣿⠟⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠳⢤⣀⡶⠤⣷⣅⡀⠀⠀⠀⣀⡠⢔⠕⠁⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠈⠙⠫⠿⠿⠿⠛⠋⠁⠀⠀⠀⠀
ascii art
January 2022

Pokemon

Henry Dongerman and his pet donger Mr Mittens

twitchquotes: Hey my name is Henry Dongerman I lost my pet donger. Here's a picture of him [ᕙ༼ຈل͜ຈ༽ᕗ] if you can help find him I would be eternally grateful he means the world to me. Mr. Mittens is his name if it helps share this around and pray to lord donger to help find him. His favorite song is ᕙ༼ຈلຈ༽ᕗ HARDER BETTER FASTER DONGER ᕙ༼ຈلຈ༽ᕗ so try playing that he may come
twitch chat
July 2014
Kripp

It's 2036

It’s 2036. Your mom was an e girl with an onlyfans and your dad is a sadboi guitarist. 98% of the Caucasian male students in school are named Aiden. Every afternoon you come home to check on Mom because she still thinks posting memes about wanting to die are in. She sees you pull out your homework and you sigh. “No, mom. I don’t want to listen to Lo-Fi beats to study and relax to.” She looks mildly disappointed but perks up again. “No horror trap/witch house either,” you interrupt. SadDad walks in and pats you on the back, but not before saying “Aye, fam. You look a little upset, u wanna go get a face tat?”
October 2020

Do you have what it takes to be a Memester?

slow claps steps out of the shadows Heh... not bad, kid. Not bad at all. Your meme, I mean. It's not bad. A good first attempt. It's plenty dank... I can tell it's got some thought behind it... lots of quotable material... But memeing isn't all sunshine and rainbows, kid. You're skilled... that much I can tell. But do you have what it takes to be a Memester? To join those esteemed meme ranks? To call yourself a member of the Ruseman's Corps? Memeing takes talent, that much is true. But more than that it takes heart. The world-class Memesters - I mean the big guys, like Johnny Hammersticks and Billy Kuahana - they're out there day and night, burning the midnight meme-oil, working tirelessly to craft that next big meme. And you know what, kid? 99 times out of a hundred, that new meme fails. Someone dismisses it as bait, or says it's "tryhard," or ignores it as they copy/paste the latest shitpost copypasta dreamt up by those sorry excuses for cut-rate memers over at reddit. The Meme Game is rough, kid, and I don't just mean the one you just lost :). It's a rough business, and for every artisan meme you craft in your meme bakery, some cocksucker at 9gag has a picture of a duck or some shit that a million different Johnny No-Names will attach a milion different captions to. Chin up, kid. Don't get all mopey on me. You've got skill. You've got talent. You just need to show your drive. See you on the boards...
June 2017

Christmas for a wsb trader

As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some. How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully. “Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps. The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls. After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.
December 2020

WallStreetBets

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