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.
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
Ben Shapiro Olive Garden breadsticks
Let’s say that, hypothetically, you really did have unlimited breadsticks. Now, since they are unlimited, that means that you will never run out. However, on Earth there is a limited supply of the materials required to make breadsticks. Thus, if I were to attempt to eat as many breadsticks as possible, I would not be able to as eventually you would sell out, am I correct? Now that we have established that there are infinite breadsticks but finite supplies to make them, would it not be reasonable to conclude that you are either breaking the laws of physics, or are lying to me? And since one cannot break the laws of physics, logically you must be lying to me. Facts don’t care about your feelings liberals, you have committed the crime of false advertising and must give me free food or I will inform the authorities.
Ben Shapiro
At least I feel safe with Tyler
twitchquotes:
My dad beats me 
My mom beats me My brother beats me My sister beats me At least I feel safe with Tyler, because he can't beat anyone 
My mom beats me My brother beats me My sister beats me At least I feel safe with Tyler, because he can't beat anyone
twitch chat
Tyler1
League of Legends
Albert Einstein and Arteezy's farm
twitchquotes:
Albert Einstein, one of the greatest minds to ever live, was once perplexed by the speed at which Arteezy was able to farm. Seemingly impossible GPMs of 800+ every game were consistently observed, leading to the hypothesis that this was no fluke. Einstein spent the last years of his life trying to prove the ability of Arteezy's farm existed within the laws of science. Critics laughed at his efforts, claiming that Arteezy's farm was an undeniable act of divine intervention. It wasn't until the end when Einstein found the answer. On his deathbed, Einstein spent the last seconds of his life jotting down what is now the world's most infamous scientific formula. r=tz²
twitch chat
Arteezy
Chibi Vayne
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League of Legends
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.