I, U bluudi wonka, feck'n bos droiva don' went en doid on ya m8, musta bin a reyl sed day 4 ya mum m8, ah bluudi eal, E wuuda smocked u roight en the gabber so ya C staars 4 doin wot ya bin doin, pal.neavamnd, feck u m8, get shrektd
I used to be a real ad
More Copypastas
I'm one with the kripp
twitchquotes:
Whenever kripp says "alright subber-bros", I know it's time. I full screen the stream and grab my vaseline. I apply a huge load onto my newly shaved butthole and rub it all around nice and even. And then, when kripp says "thanks, and welcome to the 5 dollar club", I place my butthole in front of the screen. It is in that moment, that kripp fists me. I moan with pleasure. I'm one with the kripp
twitch chat
Kripp
Ape rocket
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WallStreetBets
m'lady tip fedora
⣿⠿⠿⠿⠿⢯⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢸⣿⣿
⡇⣉⡙⠻⠁⠄⠉⠻⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣏⣼⣿⣿
⣿⠌⠻⢿⣷⣦⣤⣀⡀⠄⠉⠙⠛⠛⠿⠿⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣸⣿⣿⣿
⠋⠄⢰⡆⠉⠛⠿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠉⠉⠙⠛⠛⠛⠋⣭⡛⣿⣿
⠃⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣉⣙⡿⢿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⣀⡀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣀⣉⡙⢶⢹
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣀⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣭⣝⣛⠛⠿⠿⠿⠷⢶⣦⡤⢤⠘⣿⠄⡾
⠄⠄⡔⢲⣤⣴⡆⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣬⠍⠄⠄⢰⣾⣷⡆⠄⠄⣄⣤⣾⣧⡞⣱
⠄⠘⣾⣟⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣀⣸⣿⣍⡿⠿⠿⠇
⠄⠄⢻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⡿⣿⣯⢻⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡟⢱⣿⡏⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣉⣉⣉⡉⠉⠁⢿⣿⣿⣿⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠿⢿⣿⣿⡁⣛⣿⣁⠄⠄⠄⢸⣿⣿⡟⠄⠄⠄⠄
⣿⣿⣿⣿⠻⣿⣿⣿⠻⣿⣿⣶⣬⡙⠛⠛⠿⠟⠻⠿⠇⢀⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠉⠉⠉⠁⠄⠈⠹⢿⣿⣿⣙⠿⢿⣿⣷⣦⡀⠄⠄⠄⢠⣾⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄
⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠘⠻⣿⣷⣤⣀⡀⠄⠄⠄⢀⣠⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡇⠄⠄⠄⠄m'lady
Simps
You've been gnomed 3
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠉⠁⠄⠄⠄⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⠏⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠸⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣏⠄⡠⡤⡤⡤⡤⡤⡤⡠⡤⡤⣸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣗⢝⢮⢯⡺⣕⢡⡑⡕⡍⣘⢮⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡧⣝⢮⡪⡪⡪⡎⡎⡮⡲⣱⣻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⠟⠁⢸⡳⡽⣝⢝⢌⢣⢃⡯⣗⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⠟⠁⠄⠄⠄⠹⡽⣺⢽⢽⢵⣻⢮⢯⠟⠿⠿⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⡟⢀⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠙⠽⠽⡽⣽⣺⢽⠝⠄⠄⢰⢸⢝⠽⣙⢝⢿
⡄⢸⢹⢸⢱⢘⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠈⠄⠄⠄⣀⠄⠄⣵⣧⣫⣶⣜⣾
⣧⣬⣺⠸⡒⠬⡨⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣽⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣷⠡⠑⠂⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣄⠠⢀⢀⢀⡀⡀⠠⢀⢲⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⢐⢀⠂⢄⠇⠠⠈⠄⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣧⠄⠠⠈⢈⡄⠄⢁⢀⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡀⠠⠐⣼⠇⠄⡀⠸⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣯⠄⠄⡀⠈⠂⣀⠄⢀⠄⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣶⣄⣀⠐⢀⣸⣷⣶⣶⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
Christmas for a wsb trader
As the tree blinks from white to red to green, you look at the void under the tree that previously held presents. Fewer this year than usual, but some.
How did you get here? Boredom? In March, you felt trapped with your wife and infant. You needed something to pass the time. Something you could throw yourself into fully.
“Are you coming to bed?” your wife yells down the stairs. It seemed harmless at first, but as the pandemic drew on, so did your investment. You’ll stop soon, though. “Soon!” you reply, and you hear her feet climb the steps.
The lights start to blink chaotically. You cringe because you could only afford the junk strands at CVS. Suddenly they halt—the alternation feature broken—on red. The red fills the room and covers your flesh. You look down at your hands, and they look like they’re bleeding. Like your calls.
After a time—hours?—you realize you’re sitting in complete darkness. Your lights have expired, worthless.