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Tin resins why ye canae move tae Sco'land. Win - We dinnae want ye here Tae - Yer nae hard enough Threh - Ye wouldnae like the wither (and ye wouldne ken hoo tae describ it - dreich, drookit, haar, etc) Fir - Yer a dafty who couldne git intae oor big skels and dinnae ken aboot the Sco'ish Enlightinment Fiv - Yer a big girruls blouse and cannae keep up wi oor drinkin Sex - Yed get snapped in hoff if ye played fitbaw wi us sivvun - Ye coodnae handle the patter It - Wae dinnae wint ye drivin up the hoos prices Nin - Yer pribly a jobbyjabber who likes it it in the backsie Tin - Oor wimmun boke at the sight of ye If somehoo ye dae mit the abuv requirmints then ye can enter but ye must promis to vote fi SNP, the ONLY party that trilly represents Sco'land. Fuck off hame any English cunts.

I know this sounds bad, but hear me out. Earlier this month, I was walking home from the store as usual. I began smelling a feint burning smell and I heard muffled shouting ahead. I picked up the pace to discover the commotion. A building was on fire and a small child was standing by the second story window shrieking for help as flames rose behind him. Luckily, I had been doing parkour ever since I was a teen so I climbed up to his window and reached out to grab the child. He reached out for me as well and I hoisted him down on my back. When we reached the ground the child ran to his parents and they thanked me while hugging him. Later today I was visiting a friend in prison who happens to be serving a sentence for attempted murder of many children. He said I was an asshole and I shouldn’t have saved the kid from the burning building. Ever since, I can’t help but feel like kind of an asshole so I would appreciate to hear a third persons perspective on this. So reddit, AITA?

Your eyes slowly open. Crusty from months of wear from stray globs of semen and cosmic dust. You are in a room and you can no longer see your member, or rather, what was left of it. There are tubes leading away from your pelvis, pumping and pulsating. There is a glass window across from you and a person dressed in a white jacket. A woman. She looks up from her clipboard to see you are awake. At first she is uninterested, but then her eyes slam open and a beaming smile crosses her face. Her eyes filled with curiosity. “You’re awake!” She cries over the loudspeakers that you only just now notice embedded into the top corners of the room. “Where am I?” You ask, filled with fear and excitement. You thought you would never see a human again and you would be destined to suffer endlessly across the cosmos. “You are on Saturn. You crashed into it and due to it’s extreme mass you were able to stop. We picked you up because you may be the key to saving humanity for all eternity.” “How?” You ask as a smile begins to creep across your face, imagining that you could be an icon for humanity. “You have been addressed as the Cosmic Unknown Mass Semen Generator, or CUMS-G for short. The fault in reality that caused your affliction can be used for the good of humanity. By using the mass you produce we will never have to worry about energy again, as by converting your biomass into energy we have unlimited power for the rest of time. When the stars die and the cosmos sink into nothing, humanity will be able to continue thanks to you. The anomaly that created you is easily one of the greatest discoveries humanity has ever had, on par with the discovery of fire.” “Will I not die?” “You can’t die. You are immortal. You don’t even have a body and yet you continue to exist” … Hours later, she leaves to tell her superiors. They do not greet you. They exchange high-fives and party but they do not speak to you. Months pass. The cum accelerates. Then years. The cum accelerates. Then decades. The cum accelerates. Then centuries. The cum accelerates. Then eons. The cum accelerates. No one talks to you. You don’t even know if humanity is alive anymore or if they have left you to exist for the rest of eternity. The tubes around you have gotten far thicker and more high tech as the ferocity of your semen expulsion increased. Eventually the walls around you cave in. Only then do you see the truth. Their plan was flawed.

I own a musket for base defense, since that's what the developers intended. Four Syndicate dunderheads breach my front gate. "What the Ignis?" As I grab my cold resistant metal armor and musket. Blow a pal sphere sized hole through the first thug, he's dead on the spot. Draw my make-shift pistol on the second thug, miss him entirely because it's crafted from spare parts and nails the neighbor's Rayhound. I have to resort to my Lamball and the mounted rocket fortification at the top of the stairs. "Tally ho lads" the shrapnel shreds two thugs in the blast, the sound and extra shrapnel set off the neighbors alarm bells. Ready my metal spear and charge at the last terrified rapscallion. He bleeds out waiting on the PIDF to arrive since thirty-seven stab wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the developers intended.

I hole-hardedly agree, but allow me to play doubles advocate here for a moment. For all intensive purposes I think you are wrong. In an age where false morals are a diamond dozen, true virtues are a blessing in the skies. We often put our false morality on a petal stool like a bunch of pre-Madonnas, but you all seem to be taking something very valuable for granite. So I ask of you to mustard up all the strength you can because it is a doggy dog world out there. Although there is some merit to what you are saying it seems like you have a huge ship on your shoulder. In your argument you seem to throw everything in but the kids Nsync, and even though you are having a feel day with this I am here to bring you back into reality. I have a sick sense when it comes to these types of things. It is almost spooky, because I cannot turn a blonde eye to these glaring flaws in your rhetoric. I have zero taller ants when it comes to people spouting out hate in the name of moral righteousness. You just need to remember what comes around is all around, and when supply and command fails you will be the first to go. Make my words, when you get down to brass stacks it doesn't take rocket appliances to get two birds stoned at once. It's clear who makes the pants in this relationship, and sometimes you just have to swallow your prize and accept the facts. You might have to come to this conclusion through denial and error but I swear on my mother's mating name that when you put the petal to the medal you will pass with flying carpets like it’s a peach of cake.

Give it up folks, einstein over here has something to say. What's that buddy? Wha- A grammatical error?!? WHAT?!? B... Bu... That can't be possible! Surely not! A GRAMMAR MISTAKE? IN MY SIGHT?!? What a great, absolute miracle that you and your 257 IQ Brain was here to correct it! Thank you! Have my grattitude, Actually, What's your cashapp? I'd like to give you 20$... Know what? While we're at it have the keys to my car. Actually, no, scratch that. Have the keys to my house, go watch my kids grow up and fuck my wife. Also, my Paypal username and password is: Ilikesmartazzes4 and 968386329. Go have fun. Thank you for your work.

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