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Tesla is restarting production today against Alameda County rules. I will be on the line with everyone else. If anyone is arrested, I ask that it only be me.
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Ben Shapiro ordering pizza
Hello, is this Pizza Hut?
Excellent. My name is Ben Shapiro. Conservative thought leader. Prominent white YouTuber. The Muggsy Bogues of the intellectual dark Web. And—look, it’s just a fact—I would like to order some pizza pie. If you are triggered by that request, I do not care. I truly do not.
Now let’s discuss conditions. First, thank you for agreeing to debate me. Typically, in fora such as this, I am met with ad-hominem mudslinging, anything from “You racist creep” or “Is that your real voice?” to raucous schoolyard laughter and threats of the dreaded “toilet swirly.” However, your willingness to engage with me over the phone on the subject of pizza shows an intellectual fortitude and openness to dangerous ideas which reflects highly on your character. Huzzah, good sir. Huzzah.
Second, any pizza I order will be male. None of this “Our pizza identifies as trans-fluid-pan-poly”—no. Pizza is a boy. With a penis. It’s that simple. It’s been true for all of human history, from Plato to Socrates to Mr. Mistoffelees, and any attempt to rewrite the pillars of Western thought will be met with a hearty “Fuh!” by yours truly. And, trust me, that is not a fate you wish to meet.
Now. With regard to my topping preference. I have eaten from your pizzeria in times past, and it must be said: your pepperoni is embarrassingly spicy. Frankly, it boggles the mind. I mean, what kind of drugs are you inhaling over there? Pot?! One bite of that stuff and I had to take a shower. So tread lightly when it comes to spice, my good man. You do not want to see me at my most epic. Like the great white hero of Zack Snyder’s classic film “300,” I will kick you.
Onions, peppers—no, thank you. If I wanted veggies, I’d go to a salad bar. I’m not some sort of vegan, Cory Booker weirdo. And your efforts to Michelle Obama-ize the great American pizza pie are, frankly, hilarious. Though not as funny as the impressively named P’Zone—when I finally figured out that genuinely creative pun, I laughed until I cried and peed. A true Spartan admits defeat, and I must admit that, in this instance, your Hut humor slayed me, Dennis Miller style.
And, with that, you have earned my order. Congratulations. Ahem. Without further ado, I would like your smallest child pizza, no sauce, extra cheese. Hello? Aha. A hang-up. Another triggered lib, bested by logic. Damn it. I’m fucking starving.
Ben Shapiro
Yuletide tunes in your playlist
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(╭ರ_•́)\c[] Dear Mr. Andrey Yanyuk, may I humbly suggest the implementation of Yuletide tunes in your playlist for the day good sir? (╭ರ_•́)\c[]
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Reynad
PJSalt = Hs²
twitchquotes:
Albert Einstein was desperate. He tried to prove that the luck of Kripp's opponents was within the laws of mathematics. Critics laughed claiming bad luck is divine punishment for embracing casualness. On his deathbed, he spent his last seconds jotting down the most famous formulas, 
= Hs²
= Hs²
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Kripp
Hearthstone
Lord Microsoft
10:43 PM, Microsoft Tower, Washington.
A figure stands in shadow, red lights from the theistic ceiling flood the spacious hall. Along the sides, hallmark pieces of technology are proudly displayed on golden pedestals. The Xbox, Windows, Hololens; At the center of it all, the vaccine.
"Microsoft Microbe Covid-19" the label on the syringe reads. A glowing substance can be seen sitting still inside.
Monitors flicker to life at the end of the hall, each one showing the point of view of an innocent civilian. The light draws a silhouette of a man. His body, frail. His skin is leathery and rugged. Breathing apparatus cover his face, a cold green mist slowly spewing out.
The grand door opens, humanoids armed with weapons drag an unkempt and furious man towards the being in shadow. They throw him to the floor, spit slathering the ground.
"This is the last one?" the figure asks.
"Yes, Lord Microsoft. all 4,607,423,673 other citizens have been accounted for."
The rugged man looks upwards, his face bloodied and bruised. His eyes meet Lord Microsoft's. Puffed from tears, his eyes can only show one emotion: anger.
"Bill Gates, you piece of shit. I swore to Samantha that if I ever-"
"Silence, creature!" Lord Microsoft slaps him with the back of his hand. "I am lord Microsoft, and you will refer to me as such!"
The guards grab the man, hoisting him up.
"Now, let us delay no further. It has taken me years to get to this point, and I will not have my victory denied!" Lord Microsoft grabs the vaccine and primes it for injection.
"Such a small thing, isn't it? Yet, it has afforded me the right to dominate all life on Earth. Covid was a blessing, not a curse."
The man's eyes widened, he screams in retaliation, but the guards shut his mouth with force. Lord Microsoft pierces his flesh with the needle. A flourescent orange liquid can be seen coursing through his veins. He falls to the floor, his muscles tightening and constricting in unnatural fashion. His eyes bulge from his skull and he shouts in pain.
He slumps over, and in only a moment he comes back to his feet. His pupils dilated and his skin, pale.
"How may I serve you, my lord."
COVID
Coronavirus
Kripp whines some more...
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ᴛᴡɪᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴏʀ, Kʀɪᴘᴘ ᴡʜɪsᴘᴇʀᴇᴅ, "Hᴇ ᴛᴏᴘᴅᴇᴄᴋᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴄᴀʀᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇᴀᴛ... ᴍᴇ...
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Kripp