what the fuck is the point in correcting me. You think I don't know how to spell "your"? I shortened it to "ur" because I was eating chips and typing one handed and didn't want to bother with those 2 extra letters just to please a fucking lifeless fat neckbeard like you.
Stop thinking you're smart just because you can correct somebody's spelling, you seem like a total fucking idiot jackass and I'm ashamed and disappointed that on the internet where there are millions of comments and commentors, I was still stuck with a response written by somebody like you.
You obviously knew what I meant, it's not like I spelt "your" as "s;ldkfjs;dlfkj". Take your fucking dildo keyboard out your crusty ass and realize that maybe you have no friends and plans tonight because you're an unlikeable cumstain who repels everybody away like opposite poles on a magnet.
The next time you comment like a fucking moron, ask yourself "would I rather write this useless comment or would I rather clean my fucking act up and stop being a little shitter". My New Years resolution is to never have the misfortune of you coming across any more of my comments and throwing up your shitty insight at me.
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The ultimate tool to win any argument you're in, works even if you're losing
That's a nice argument you have, but unfortunately, I had sexual intercourse with your mother, therefore rendering any point you make null.
I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut
I finally did it. I out-pizza'd the Hut. It was the greatest mistake of my life.
After years of perfecting my recipe, I made my way down to the local hut, fresh-baked pizza pie in hand. "Try this," I told the kid working the counter. He did, and he had to agree that it was better than anything Pizza Hut had to offer. Soon, the entire store, customers included, was feasting on my delicious pie. The manager walked over, grabbed a slice, and took a bite. I look at him, anticipation rising. This was the boss, the local fief lord of the Hut. His approval meant more to me than all the rest combined. He took a bite and nodded. "I'll be damned," he said, "you really did it. You out-pizza'd the Hut. Shame." Shame? What did he mean by tha- the manager pulled a gun out from behind his apron and shot the nearest customer in the head. "We have a Code Jalapeño," he said into his wrist as he executed the remaining customers. "I repeat, we have a Code Jalapeño." The ground was slick with blood. The kid working the counter choked out his dying breath as the manager turned to me. "You just had to do it motherfucker. You just had to out-pizza the Hut." He shoved the gun in my face. I was too scared to fight, too scared to run. The manager pulled the trigger.
A click. The gun was empty. I threw a chair at the manager and scrambled out of the Pizza Hut, not even bothering to see if my missile hit its mark. I was closely pursued by the manager, who had gotten his hands on a deadly sharp pizza cutter. I suspected in his hands it would cut more than pizza. Somehow, I was able to get into my car and speed off, the manager cursing my existence as I left him behind. I took a deep breath. The manager was clearly psychotic. Yes, that was it, just a crazy man with a gun. It had to be. My phone rang. Sister. I picked it. "They're dead, she sobbed. They're all dead. M-mom, dad, Chris, Bill. Dead. They killed them all." I could barely understand her, so great were her sobs. "What do you mean? Where are you?" I asked urgently. "How is this possi-" a single gunshot sounded through my phone's speakers. Silence. Then, I heard a man's voice. "No one out-pizzas the Hut." He hung up. I drove down the empty county road, mind blank. I had nothing. They killed my family. I was alone.
At that moment I knew what I had to do. They took everything from me. Well then, I would take everything from them. Pizza Hut was so terrified of being out-pizza'd, they forgot there's one thing worse than a man with a recipe: A man with nothing to lose. I'll give them a limited time offer they won't be able to refuse: two bullets for the price of one.
With a free side order of pain.
As a auto chess main at a respectably high elo
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As a auto chess main at a respectably high elo, this game is hard to watch. Literally cringing at some of these mistakes. If you actually want to learn autochess PM me (im silver 2 24lp) I also do coaching.
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Reckful
Teamfight Tactics
Buying calls on Gamestop
I can't believe that after fifteen years of trading, my best trade of all time is going to be buying calls on fucking Gamestop.
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I am a TSLA bull
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If TSLA has million number of bulls I am one of them. If TSLA has ten bulls I am one of them. If TSLA has no bulls, that means I am no more on the earth. If world is against TSLA, I am against the world. I love TSLA till my last breath.
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