I work in a restaurant. We only allow dogs in if they are service dogs. If anyone comes in with any dog I ask;
‘Is it a service dog?’
With a big wink to give them the opportunity to lie to me making it obvious I want them to.
If at first they say ‘no’ I reply with ‘are you sure? This dog here? Sure looks like a service dog to me. Are you sure this is not a service dog?’with another big wink
Always works.
I love dogs
What happened to this ad? :(
More Copypastas
48 year man from somalia
twitchquotes:
Hello Kripp Aryan, am 48 year man from somalia. Sorry for my bed england.. I selled my wife for internet connection for play "heart of stone" and i want to become the goodest player like you. I play with 400 ping on US server and i am rakn 17. pls no copy pasterino my story
twitch chat
Kripp
Classic
Kripp play game for REAL man like Counterstrike Go!
twitchquotes:
Privyet, Komrade Kripp! Is your cousin Dmitri from Mother Russia! I am of hearing that you make much moneys by playing simplistic card game for toddlers and whining like little baby in front of thousands of simpletons! BLYAT! You should play game for REAL man like Counterstrike Go! Already I am recruit by man with enormous forehead for professional team Tampon Storm and will be winning many tournaments, yes! Don't be a cyka, you capitalist pig, and stop crying like baby! Love, Dmitri.
twitch chat
Kripp
Classic
Hearthstone
KekHands
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⡜⢿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣜⢿⣿⣿⣿⢱⣿⣿⣿⡧⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⣼⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣎⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣌⢻⡿⣿⣿⣿⡿⢡⣷⡈⠻⣿⡟⣴⣿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄
Pepe
Kripp's MALDHAWK
twitchquotes:
Late last year, we were on an expedition to find the rarest hairstyle of them all.. the "MALDHAWK" A combination of MALD and a hawk nest, it combines the fluidity of middle aged male pattern baldness to a contrast of dead rats. Much to our chagrin, we found it April 13th, 2020, on a morose Canadian gypsy's stream. He had over 10k viewers at the time of writing this
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Kripp
Amogus 700 years in the future
Imagine, 700 years in the future, through some last vestige of the internet kept in an underground server, a notification miraculously appears on your device (which has been preserved in nuclear dust from the 5th world war). One night, an alien working a late shift at the museum of archeology notices the cracked screen suddenly light up, and upon it, one word arises from the battered code: Amogus. They do not know what this word means. They ponder it deeply. They scour the ancient tomes, desperate to understand its mystifying origin. It drives them mad. Is it a primeval cipher? The motto of a bygone civilization? A message from God? Night after night they study it by candlelight. They flip through pages in books so old, the slightest cough would turn the paper to a fine off-white powder. The answer is nowhere to be found. And then they are struck by a revelation: I was not meant to know this word. Its esoteric nature escapes my grasp for a reason. What if its meaning is too enlightening to bear? With this revelation comes anger. Spite. Despair. Why shouldn't I understand it?! What cosmic forces are there at play to keep me from such knowledge?! In a fit of desperate rage, they shatter your device against a wall and exclaim, arms raised to the heavens: "This is literally 1984!" Silence... Their pleas are unanswered. Sadly, in the end, their inability to unlock the word's meaning drives them to suicide. Its secrets are never known. So I ask you this: is it better to die having never understood the true mind-bending nature of Amogus, or to be driven mad by the little spaceman in his blood-red suit? If you knew enlightenment would render you incapable of living on this mortal earth without making daily references to a game of space mafia, would you accept it? With knowledge comes power, but also endless suffering. Choose wisely, and be wary when standing at the edge of that great abyss we call "the Truth," lest you fall too deep.