Today I learned that in 2003 the fast food company “Sonic” began printing out their own money to pay their workers. This led to a huge inflation in the economy and was one of the leading factors of the 2008-2009 recession. Would highly recommend looking up Sonic Inflation on google if you want to learn more.
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
My donger is half my age
twitchquotes:
◕ ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡◕ ɪ ᴍ**ᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ɴɪᴠᴇᴀ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴡ ᴍʏ ᴅᴏɴɢᴇʀ ɪs ʜᴀʟғ ᴍʏ ᴀɢᴇ ͡◕ ͜ ʖ ͡ ͡◕
twitch chat
Kripp
There's no reason to have a Dad Bod when push ups exist
There's no reason to have a Dad Bod when push ups exist. I'm always finding time to crank out a few p-ups. Ahh yep, I do maybe a thousand p-ups a day and I'm a father of two. Those nerds coloring with crayons? Time to squeeze in a few p-ups. Little dorks eating mac and cheese? It's p-up time. I'm like a leathered marble statue of a really muscular guy, my muscles are so tight and rugged. Hell, I took a p-up break while typing this comment. The ladies at work, these little work ladies, love when I crank out p-ups right there in front of them and come up off the floor red faced and with a sizeable bulge in my slacks. That bulge is unrelated to the p-ups, by the way, I'm just a guy who's always one hard nipple poking through a shirt away from a full meat platter. Hell, I'd cheat on my wife with one of these little work ladies if she wasn't one of the little work ladies I work with. We bone in the bathroom. I get jacked on p-ups and then we bone in the bathroom and there's nothing my boss can do about it because my vascularity is way too intimidating. I tell him he should do some p-ups if he wants to fuck my wife. It's the only way she gets that slizz juiced and loosed. She wants to see multitudinous p-ups and she wants to see those p-ups now! Whoops! Haha, okay, looks like she's watching me type this over my shoulder. Uh oh. See ya later, nerdbags. I'm gonna p-ups myself up to a full plumper and pump that honey ham rump of my little work lady wife.
4Head
twitch chat
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
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