Copypasta thread - Mmmm pasta

[AnOminous]

MAYBE I JUST FUCKING SHOULD YOU PEOPLE RUINED MY LIFE. STOP CALLING MY FUCKING PARENTS. YOU DELUDED FUCKS THIS ISNT A GAME ANYMORE. MY DARK LORD TELLS ME WHAT TO DO AND I WILL GO AFTER YOU WITH ALL THE POWER SATAN'S GRACE GIVES ME. I. SLAY. ANGELS. STAY BACK FROM ME. STOP IT NOW YOU STUPID FUCKING NIGGER KIKE. STOP. STOP. STOP. You ruined everything afters years of being friends with Rand and the group they got rid of me. I lost my only friends. I have nothing to live for because of you. @Null Josh Moon you stupid fucking kike I pray to satan every hour to give you pain.

 

[Goyslop Muncher]

>IN THESE POGGY SUS UNCERTAIN TRYING TIMES OF THE DARK WINTER OF THE TWO WEEKS TO FLATTEN THE CURVE OF THE NEW NORMAL....
>AS POGGING CITIZENS OF THE GLOBAL VILLAGE MUST COME TOGETHER AS ONE, BUT APART, AND BUILD BACK BETTER WITH SOME NEW EXTENDED LENGTH TEMPORARY GLOBAL RULES TO KICK START THE 4TH INDUSTRIAL REVOLUTION........
>YOU WILL WEAR THE NWO PROVIDED IOT COCK CAGE FOR YOUR PROTECTION
>YOU WOCKY SLUSH THE RECYCLED PISS
>YOU STAN EAT THE CRICKET BURGER
>YOU STAN DRINK THE COCKROACH MILK
>YOU STAN EAT THE MAGGOT CHIPS
>YOU. STAN. EAT. THE. BUGS.
>YOU STAN WEAR THE MASK WHILE EATING
>YOU STAN WEAR THE MASK WHILE SLEEPING
>YOU STAN STAY 6FT APART FROM OTHERS EXCEPT FOR DURING YOUR CORPORATION APPROVED BLM RALLIES
>YOU STAN NOT REPRODUCE FOR THE ENVIRONMENT
>YOU STAN SUPPORT OPEN BORDERS
>YOU STAN NOT REMEMBER DR SUESS OR PETER PAN
>YOU STAN NOT QUESTION OUR SCIENCE
>YOU STAN KNELL WHEN THE GEORGE FLOYD ANTHEM PLAYS
>YOU STAN GIVE PUBERTY BLOCKERS TO YOUR CHILDREN
>YOU STAN ACCEPT CORPORATION SET UN MIGRANT QUOTAS
>YOU STAN SOCIALLY DISTANCE AND FOLLOW THE ARROWS
>YOU STAN CLAP FOR OUR BLM HEALTH HEROES
>YOU STAN OBEY THE CURFEW AND STOP SEEING YOUR LOVED ONES
>YOU STAN REPORT DISSENTERS AND TERRORISTS WHO BELIEVE IN PRIVACY AND FREEDOM
>YOU STAN USE NEWSPEAK
>YOU STAN EMBRACE MASS SURVELLIENCE FOR YOUR SAFETY
>YOU STAN TAKE THE VMAT2 GENE KILLING MARK OF THE BEAST "VACCINE"
>YOU STAN BE PLACED IN DEATH CAMPS IF YOU RESIST
>YOU STAN RENT YOUR CLOTHES
>YOU STAN LIVE IN POD HOMES WITH YOUR VAXPASS™
>YOU STAN NOT TRAVEL WITHOUT YOUR YOUR VAXPASS™
>YOU STAN EMBRACE THE CASHLESS SYSTEM
>YOU STAN HAVE PROPAGANDA BEAMED INTO YOUR MIND
>YOU STAN ONLY ACCEPT OUR VERSION OF HISTORY
>YOU STAN ONLY READ, HEAR AND SEE PRE APPROVED CONTENT
>YOU STAN ONLY THINK PRE APPROVED CONTENT
>YOU STAN NOT DREAM UNAPPROVED CONTENT
>YOU STAN WORSHIP OUR NEW WORLD ORDER ELECTRONIC GOD DEMIURGE
>YOU STAN ACCEPT THE NEW NORMAL
>YOU STAN OWN NOTHING AND YOU WILL BE HAPPY

 

[KID NAMED SCHWARMAPUNK]

Sister. I've noticed that your reddit avatar is not wearing a hijab. When you wear a hijab, you are obeying the commands of Allah, and you can expect great rewards in return. It is Allah's protection of your natural beauty. You are too precious to be "on display" for each man to see. It is Allah's preservation of your chastity. Allah purifies your heart and mind through the hijab. Allah raises your dignity through the hijab. When a strange man looks at you, he respects you because he sees that you respect yourself. And this applies to your reddit avatar as well.

 

[Inflatable Julay]

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
Fuck You.
I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…
*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin**?!** *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*
Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

 

[Kiwi & Cow]

Hey gamers.
I would like to take this opportunity to address a false allegation recently made against me on Twitter.
As some of you may have seen, it has been claimed – back in 2016, when I was 19 years old – that I “groomed” an individual who was 15 years old at the time.
I want to set the record straight with you all and share the truth. This accusation is 100% false and incredibly irresponsible.
I am not denying that in the past, I took part in conversations with others that many of you will understandably consider to be weird and distasteful (probably an understatement). It was careless of me not to consider who was behind the role-play / art sharing, and I take full accountability.
But these exchanges never amounted to anything other than fantasy role-play. I have never sent or solicited nude or IRL content. I have never tried to engineer an illicit encounter or lure anybody into anything. I have never built a dialogue, connection or relationship with the intention of manipulating or exploiting anyone. This was even confirmed by Ivory himself in an interview. https://youtu.be/wHxe5ighjmc?t=500
He never at any point stated that he felt uncomfortable, and if he did, I never would have continued to message and respond to him. Every exchange between Ivory and I was fully consensual and reciprocal.
He never once disclosed the fact that he was 15 at the time these exchanges commenced. He didn’t include his age in his bio until he was 16 but I was not on Twitter between 28th December 2016 until 29th June 2017, as I was suspended.
Moreover, individuals have since come forward contending that Ivory would be disingenuous about his age to proactively gain entry to other fantasy roleplay groups

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25665 views on Imgur: The magic of the Internet

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I am really confused by Ivory’s inconsistency.
There is evidence to suggest that he has engaged in fantasy roleplay with another individual similar in age to me. This individual was also not aware of Ivory’s age at the time. But in this particular example, it was [Ivory who very much initiated and directed the roleplay. https://imgur.com/a/EDZwnOo
After Ivory alleged that I “groomed” him, this individual then reached out to him to apologise for any hurt he may have inadvertently caused him. To which Ivory responded: “no ur fine idc”. https://imgur.com/a/K7Kyd6y
Why does he not care in this instance? Why does he remain unaffected by a similar interaction with others, yet feel the need to single me out and character assassinate only me on social media?
Furthermore, if he is as angry, confused and sad as he claims to be, why has he been in friendly contact with me right up until September of this year?

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17677 views on Imgur: The magic of the Internet

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During the interview mentioned earlier, he was confronted with evidence that he sent kink art to someone else. He initially claims it was him, but then backtracks, claiming he has no recollection. https://youtu.be/wHxe5ighjmc?t=1860
I am not here to personally attack anyone. I just want to clear my name. Being falsely accused has been extremely stressful and it is such a serious issue, I feel it has to now be addressed.
All this being said, I will kindly ask my fans to not call out Ivory nor direct any negativity his way. I don’t want to play any part in fuelling or perpetuating hate. I just want to share the truth, close this chapter, move forward and return to doing what I love: making unfunny videos.

 

[Cryonic Haunted Bullets]

You are a real woman. You have no womb, you have no ovaries, you have no eggs, but that doesn't matter. You are a valid human who is trying to feel comfortable in her body.

All the “validation” you get is pure. Behind your back people love you. Your parents are happy and proud of you, your friends laugh at your jokes behind closed doors, and boys love you, and girls envy you.

Men absolutely love you. Trans folk who “pass” look ordinary and natural to a man. Your bone structure does not matter. Estradiol widens the hips.
You will be happy. You will smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, and deep inside you feel the euphoria creeping up like a weed. It is what defines you, not the transphobes.

Eventually, it’ll be perfect for you - you’ll come out, start HRT, get top surgery, and finally be your ideal self. Your parents will find you, happy and relieved that they finally have a happy daughter. They’ll congratulate you on your hard journey, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a woman is what you are.

 

[Monika H.]

As a 43 year old man at the prime of my existence, it brings me great pleasure to know that if everyone on this crummy little webforum was put into a steel cage and forced to fight to the death I know for a fact that I would easily be the last man standing. I genuinely just sit here sometimes looking at the smart arse posts you little nerds and losers make and just chuckle to myself because if you ever said anything like that to my face (as if you would dare) you could literally be eating pavement in under a second.

Think on this.

 

[Begemot]

YOU haven't read Kaczynski, YOU are not actually interested in the subject, if you were you would know Kaczynski is highly influential in the realm of anarchist and situationist thought, in many anarchist currents as well. He is the defining figure of the anti-tech current of the last thirty years. YOU are a domesticated asset with no link to any sort of formal or informal organization. YOU have no experience with other anarchists. I lived on NDDL. I lived in the woods. I lived in squats. I've traveled thousands of kilometers to meet like minded individuals. I was in athens in 2004. I was in italy fighing No TAV. Take a guess where I was 3 years ago. Lol, I've never seen you in the streets, never crossed your path. Your type only exists on imageboards, sometimes a specimen can be seen roaming the sterilized corridors of universities with the caracteristic walk of domesticated animals, the peculiar motion that reeks of repression and neurosis. The day you start organizing is the day you will quit writing such drivel. You are oblivious to praxis and it painfully shows. The only people you can fool are your type, and your type is not relevant to the struggle. What's the point?

Now that we've discussed what will be perceived as a narcissistic exposition of my resume - we will not address the hypocritical nature of this moral sentiment since Nietzsche and Freud have abundantly covered the subject.- let's move on to the importance of Kaczynski's works.

Kaczynski is the most important authors of our times for two reasons

1. His analysis goes beyond the teleological failures of historical materialism and encompasses a more comprehensive study of complex systems, stripped of the remnants of moralism that plagued revolutionnary thought

2. He filters every type of domesticated assets, oversocialized losers, university dwellers - a CRUCIAL aspect of his works. It cannot be emphasized enough how important this is - Even Debord is hyped up in bourgeois circles, he couldn't escape récupération. (Kaczynski's take on détournement is incredibly insightful as well, less naive and more practical)

Kaczynski promulgates a purely STRATEGICAL perspective, that is incredibly more likely to bring about material change than even the situationist had hoped. Kaczynski is the actualization of thousands of years of struggle towards the end of civilization. Whether you like him or not is IRRELEVANT. If you had any interest in this "topic" (a "topic", lmao, what a sad life you live) you swallow your pride and pick it up from here. That your feelings are in a bunch over his terrorist activites is IRRELEVANT

Now don't get me started on the "only 14 year olds like Kaczynski" trope, since if you had a modicum of familiarity with anarchist thought, you would know that the state of adolescence is an object of high interest towards defining a clear revolutionnary path (bey, vaneigem to name a few). I'll be back tonight to discuss his works, and purely his works.

 

[Filthyphil]

I am the four time Parking champion of Pawnee, Indiana. I've parked over 13 different makes and models of car in over 5 states, with backing in, pulling up, parallel parking, and even on occasion the rare Eastern-European diagonal maneuver.

Kids call me the parking wizard, the parker, park master general, P-dog, and many other nicknames when I park at their nearby stores or playgrounds or churches. I've parked around peoples valuables and pets to show off my precise parking capabilities (don't worry, no animals have been in danger near my vehicles).

I've parked in the US, France, Asia, South Africa, and even remote parts of Siberia. Just last October I took a sabbatical to India to practice their tuk-tuk parking techniques. They translate well to honda style sedans, but I wouldn't recommend it to jeeps or vans unless you're a parking pro like myself.

I've parked on dollar bills, coins, toothpicks, playing cards, and other markers that audience members have used. Each morning I get up and immediately go out to see how my brakes spent their night. I check them several times a day, and have over a hundred trusted mechanics around the US. I've parked in manual, automatic, RVs, Trucks, Campers, Semis, and more. My goal is to get enough recognition to professionally park the crawler transporter that NASA uses to transport shuttles.

I want to let all the kids know that if you're a parking fan, or a parking aficionado don't feel embarrassed. Follow your dreams

 

[Filthyphil]

Hey guys, thought I would follow up on a thread I made a couple months ago. People seemed to like it so here it goes.
Not too long ago my new girlfriend (now ex) decided to introduce me to her family for the first time at one of their family gatherings, where her cousin Joshua was also present. Joshua is severely mentally-disabled, like is 32 years old and has never dressed himself disabled. For some random reason throughout the evening, I thought to myself that it would be hilarious to call him "Johnny" instead of Joshua. I started saying it any chance
I got, for example: How's your food Johnny? Is it good Johnny? You having fun Johnny? I did this for maybe about a half hour when all of a sudden Johnny (Joshua) went into tard-rage-mode and started screaming at the top of his lungs while looking at me in a terrified manner. Now her family thinks I'm an asshole because I literally could not stop laughing for a good couple minutes straight afterwards. I was in fucking tears from laughing so hard. Girlfriend ended up leaving me. Saw her at a convenience store yesterday and asked her if "Johnny" can do complicated math. She called me a prick as I was leaving the store.
Mfw the urge to be edgy overrides my desire for companionship.
Feels good.

 

[Begemot]

“Hipster” is a term co-opted for use as a meaningless pejorative in order to vaguely call someone else’s authenticity into question and, by extension, claim authenticity for yourself.
It serves no conversational function and imparts no information, save for indicating the opinions and preferences of the speaker.
Meanwhile, a market myth has sprung up around the term, as well as a cultural bogeyman consisting of elusive white 20-somethings who wear certain clothes (but no one will agree on what), listen to certain music (no one can agree on this either), and act a certain way (you’ve probably sensed the pattern on your own).
You can’t define what “that kind of behavior or fashion or lifestyle” actually is, nor will you ever be able to. That’s because you don’t use “hipster” to describe an actual group of people, but to describe a fictional stereotype that is an outlet for literally anything that annoys you.
The twist, of course, is that if it weren’t for your own insecurities, nothing that a “hipster” could do or wear would ever affect you emotionally. But you are insecure about your own authenticity - “Do I wear what I wear because I want to? Do I listen to my music because I truly like it? I’m certainly not like those filthy hipsters!” - so you project those feelings.

Suffice it to say, no one self-identifies as a hipster; the term is always applied to an Other, to separate the authentic Us from the inauthentic, “ironic” Them.

 

[Begemot]

What I remember as Klingon food growing up as a young kid on Q'onoS

>gagh
>blood wine
>racht
>rokeg blood pie
>one time, heart of targ

Humans have no idea how bad it really is. No one on Q'onoS knows what the fuck raktajino or firewine is. Klingon food is disgusting. Literally the worst parts to eat of any animal. Makes sense because Klingons are the humanoid species closest to animals. They make disgusting noises when they eat, slurp everything, men in the streets lift their fucking spinal armor over their sweaty stomachs while laughing and chewing with their mouths full of food. Like what kind of idiot decided a knife and your hands is the most practical way to eat live worms. Starving Bajoran comfort women who get their protein from Cardassian dicks have a better diet than the average Klingon.

 

[Haffhart]

阿道夫·希特勒 Adolf Hitler 全息骗局 Holohoax 黑鬼 Nigger 柴草 Faggot 卡农 Qanon 比萨门 Pizzagate 英特宝 Cointelpro 美力达 Mkultra 韦科枪战 Waco Shootout 辛普 Simp 肥胖 Obese 玩家门 Gamergate 夏洛茨维尔 2017 Charlottesville 2017 2020年选举舞弊 2020 Election Fraud 强化审讯技术 Enchanced Interrogation Techniquies 佩佩青蛙 Pepe The Frog 两性 Two Genders 同性恋转化疗法 Gay Conversion Therapy 13/50 13/50 白人种族灭绝 White Genocide 很好的替代品 Great Replacement 一夫多妻制 Hypergamy 卡勒吉计划 Kalergi Plan 北伐战争 The War Of Northern Aggression 恋童癖大厅 Pedophile Lobby 以色列利益集团 Israeli Interest Groups 犹太人 Jews 进步党 Progressive Party 全国人大 Npc 惠龙谋杀案 Huey Long Murder 弗朗西斯·约基谋杀案 Francis Yockey Murder 变态 Perversion 退化 Degeneracy 减速 Retard 塔斯基吉梅毒研究 Tuskegee Syphilis Study 危地马拉梅毒实验 Guatemala Syphilis Experiments 昏昏欲睡的乔 Sleepy Joe 伊拉克敢死队 Iraqi Death Squads 变白没关系 It'S Okay To Be White 底特律 Detroit 洛杉矶 Los-Angeles 匹兹堡 Pittsburgh 津巴布韦白人农民 Zimbabwe White Farmers 英特尔 Incels 言论自由 Freedom Of Speech 穆斯林难民袭击 Muslim Refugee Assaults 乔治·索罗斯 George Soros 男性权利 Men'S Rights MGTOW Mgtow 爱国者法案 Patriot Act

 

[dirtydeanna96]

THE CEREAL BOX CONSPIRACY AGAINST THE DEVELOPING MIND

Michelle Handelman and Monte Cazazza

The biggest conspiracy of all, which few even dare to acknowledge, is that we are victims of our birth. Thanks to the often accidental result of a cojoining of simpletons we are yanked unasked into this noxious land of pretense. We are doomed to fit into someone else’s plan until we become cunning enough to find a way out. By the time we figure out where we stand, it’s too late to leave, and even suicide has become a felony.

The second biggest conspiracy comes into play soon after birth — the weaning and shaping of new lives into the Consumerist Reality, which is what the behavioral science of marketing children’s cereals is all about. Leaving the supermarket without a box of Breakfast With Barbie is not a crime. But your kids will make you think it is if you don’t purchase at least a couple of the latest holographic polychromatic “free prize inside” Nintendo Cereal Systems.

It’s not just the mood-elevating refined sugared product they are selling. (You could make a good case for food manufacturer’s collusion with the AMA, ADA and FDA, supplying a ready quantity of sugar-addicted children with juvenile diabetes and dental carries.) With children’s break-fast cereal, the product is only nominally different from brand to brand, and then primarily in its food coloring. No, the food product is only a Trojan horse into the hearts and minds of the the little Billys and Debbies.

Food manufacturers are training children to gorge themselves on style, on pop culture. The corporate mascots and icons of the past can no longer serve contemporary corporate lebensraum. Children are to have a tv show, a top movie, a record album, a video game, and a toy doll to accompany their eating experience. Kids are to have breakfast with the same “friend” who appears on the back of their tee-shirts and as toys in their sandbox and as characters on endlessly re-run television shows. This “friendship” is purposefully imaginary rather than tactile. The images are seductive, but are not tangible, creating angst in the young children, who gorge themselves with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle cereal in order to fill the absence inside them.

Advertising works on two premises: 1. Convincing us to buy what we don’t need. 2. Convincing us to buy back what we already have. Advertising spreads its economic hegemony through the tried and true religious principles of fear and guilt. Advertising intervenes between people and their needs, separates them from direct fulfillment and urges its victims to believe that satisfaction can only be obtained through the symbolic magic or grace of its commodity. Foodstuffs that are advertised are usually processed—meaning more expensive, less naturally appealing, less nourishing, and often harmful. Children’s cereals rate high in all four of these iniquities.

Cereal boxes are designed to hold young ones in thrall as they progress through the normal transitory stages of orality and anality. The symbol of consumption—the open mouth—is found on nearly every box. More subliminally, symbols of the act of excretion are found on such products as Cookie Crisps, Corn Pops, and the aptly named Cocoa Pebbles. Cookie Crisp gives us a lipsmacking bandit with a tongue sticking out of a stretching mouth. Cocoa Pebbles is even less subtle. Barney and Fred are placed on opposite sides of a large bowl containing the chocolate cocoa pebbles. The first perversion comes with the concept of Barney and Fred engaging in a menage-a-trois in oral consumption of Pebbles (the name of Fred’s daughter). The clincher is in the giant cereal bowl before them with a hole bored out in the center with the aid of Barney’s “drill.” From that sphincterish hole, large brown blobs are shitted out.

The cover of Corn Pops, formerly Sugar Pops, also boasts the prevalent hole with flying feces, with the O in Pops jettisoning large yellow-brown blobs to all corners of the box. The predominant color of Cookie Crisp and Cocoa Pebbles is brown, while Corn Pops accompanies its brown with urine-yellow stains.

Breakfast with Barbie appeals to the precocious libido of pre-teen girls and boys. The pink motif of the box is targeted for girls and, perhaps, sissy boys rebelling from their puppy dog tail stereotype. But the image of a scantily-clad Barbie showing lots of plastic flesh might be just the perfect breakfast companion for the developing heterosexual boy. The result of this may be to confuse a young boy’s sexual orientation. This may be welcomed by food manufacturers, for market surveys have found gay men to be more avid shoppers than their hetero counterparts. For the girls, the pink design of Breakfast with Barbie cereal box suggests nothing more than pre-pubescent female genitalia. To this end, an optical illusion that appears on the Breakfast with Barbie box panders to the primal fears of a young girl’s sexual self-discovery. In between Barbie’s legs an undefinable form emerges very pink and very erect. Is it a giant clitoris? A tongue? Daddy’s penis? Further investigation reveals the form as Barbie’s pink sunglasses, which she rests upon her knee.

Exclusivity, which has played such a big part in status advertising for the last 70 years, has only just recently been applied to the children’s marketplace. Frosted Flakes, Cheerios, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles all offer a “limited edition” box with a hologram on the front. This may be the most dangerous form of advertising of all, since it foments such anti-social and competitive values as wealth and status. The collision of children’s games with consumerist doctrine carries the developing mind further afield from the childhood dreamstate, so necessary to the formation of a whole and healthy personality.

Derek Wong, left, and Sean Clark, both 3, are avid Ninja Turtle fans. They’re surrounded by a year’s worth of Derek’s Turtle toy collection.

Paramount in the invasion of economic hegemony into childhood imagination is the cynical revamping of fairy tales in the use of the “Magical Agent” to convince children of the merits of sugar cereals. Lucky Charms’ friendly Irish midget is a pied piper who keeps children in line with the promise of sweet confections, controverting parental dicta not to accept candy from strangers.

Ghostbusters and its spinoffs make good use of the unspoken secrets and mysteries that comprise the religious experience of childhood through its ridicule of adult oppressors. The prize inside Ghostbusters glows in the dark, glows secretly to children beyond the consciousness of adulthood. Corn Pops offers a prize “Ghost Detector” inside its box. The “Ghost Detector” is a psychic geiger counter, a thin piece of heat-sensitive glow-in-the-dark plastic which curls up in one’s hand indicating the presence of a “ghost.” Batman cereal (the bat itself has long been associated with darker practitioners of the occult) offers a glow-in-the-dark “bat disc flyer” in exchange for a coupon. The hologram, itself a form of Techno-magic, is an offer available from the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cereal in the form of a Holographic tee-shirt from another dimension. And Nintendo Cereal System offers the child an opportunity to buy the secret “power” either on cassette or in a magazine. Presumably, this empowers the child to go beyond the limits of parental authority. PMRC would do well to look at these marketing ploys as the earliest link in the breakdown of the family unit.

The masters of commerce have let children of America know that they are what they eat. A kid can be Batman or Barbie or Mr. T. or even the voracious Pac-Man. Can Satan Crispies be far off? (We’ve heard of a plan afoot by one of the three big cereal manufacturers to begin test marketing Jesus Flakes in several predominantly Catholic South American countries and Mexico.)

 

[Inflatable Julay]

How do people not understand that this is a literal fucking demon? It's clearly made by someone who either knows what they are doing or someone high on psychedelics who saw a literal demon and was too dumb to realize. It's a demon and it's obvious to anyone who's had any experience with the supernatural, or anyone who isn't a total hylic or possessed by someone for that matter. The original post was funny due to the childish innocence in it ("hehe my own wojak") and it worked perfectly to mask it's sinister nature, the "kys" guy was right all along and acting on natural instinct, he's a chad. It's a depiction of a demon that appeared to someone, that is also spreading like a fungus through spores by infecting unsuspecting people, it's like a sigil engraved into the minds of people that spreads through the memetic noosphere. Take a look at any person who likes this meme on any social network and it's so obviouus their mind is already taken over. Mushroom emojis every where, cult like behavior, mental deterioration. The memes involving it are getting more and more demonic, it's literal e-worship and if you don't see this while being around those people you are BLIND. If one look at this image doesn't invoke a weird feeling you are BLIND. It's a literal DEMON.​

 

[TheRetardKing]

It all started 53 years ago, back when I was a fully grown little boy.

One day, while I was jumping through the street, I happened upon a large vehicle, which clobbered me violently into a nearby window. After getting my bearings, I looked up to see a young boy with a GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition in his tiny little hands. I had always dreamed of owning a GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition, but my family could barely even afford gold...

He looked up at me with those big, vibrating eyes. His two lower teeth quivered in confusion. "Muh, mahma," he said softly.

This was my chance! I ran at him screaming and stomping my feet, scrambling his brain in sheer confusion. I shoved him as hard as I could and grabbed his GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition, and I ran out the door. I leaped back down the street towards my home. I pulled open the door by its big, smelly handle and I let myself in quietly. I snuck past my many parents and shut myself into my room. I had made it. Finally, a GameBoy Advance SP to call my own. I will have to keep it hidden from my family. I shouldn't ever allow them to know...

I took the GameBoy SP in my small, beautiful hands, and proceeded to slide the switch to 'ON' mode. I will never forget that wonderful sound it made the first time I turned it on. And that wonderful Nintendo logo splashed my screen in sheer delight. I blew out my candle, and I pulled my curtain shut tight. I wanted absolutely nothing to get in the way of my first GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition experience.

Suddenly, a small man appeared on-screen. Shortly after, the word "Mario" started flashing behind him. I assume this man is the man known as Mario. I had seen adverts showing him on television. The title of the screen slowly lowered itself in from the top of the screen:

"Super Mario... and the Legend of the Stolen GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition"?!

My heart sank... as I noticed a dead pixel in the lower left region of the screen.

"Beggars can't be choosers," I thought to myself however, and I pressed the start button with my finger.

A vast landscape with clouds, bushes, and bricks appeared before my very eye. And there he was. The familiar Mario man I had grown to enjoy.

I pushed left on the left button. Mario himself dashed to the left. Dust between his silly brown shoes filled the air. Amazed by his speed, I quickly pushed right to test his turning abilities. I was not disappointed, as Mario changed direction in a matter of seconds. I learned the other button functions as I played...

'B' allowed Mario to dash at high speeds, similar to my own. 'A' allowed him to leap so high in the sky that I screamed in fear that, perhaps, maybe he wouldn't come back down... Yet he always did, which engaged me in the game-world even further. I quickly grasped the concepts of jumping large gaps, avoiding enemies, and climbing a big, big flagpole at the end of each level.

I got to the fourth level without much problems. I looked into a nearby mirror and smiled at myself with one eyebrow raised and I said loudly, "Does this game think I am not good? I can handle anything it throws my way! Ahhh huhaaaaa! Auuhhh..."

Suddenly, the screen turned black. And I don't just mean black. I mean so black the screen looked like a big, deep, deep hole.

I said out loud, "Is this a hole I see before me?" and it echoed, like a hole...

I wiped a large chunk of sweat from my flopping brow. "That was weird," I thought in a big bubble next to my head.

The level loaded, but this time it took a lot longer. Mario stood in place so I pushed right and he began running. I noticed the graphics were getting all jumbly. Also, the music was becoming less like the Mario theme, "DA DA DAH DUH DA DAH DUH!", and more garbled, like "BRRPP BRPP BRUPP BRR BRUM BRADDAH!!!".

I was nearing the first gap of the stage to jump over. As I drew closer, I readied my sweating, pink thumb over the 'A' button. The gap was here! I pushed the button, but Mario didn't jump... He just screamed.

"HO!"

I pushed left as far as I could and he grounded to a halt, right at the edge of the gap. I pushed 'A' frantically and repeatedly to try and make him jump, but he just screamed and screamed.

"HA-HO!"

The camera zoomed in on my face as I pummel that 'A' button, trying to make Mario fill that air above his body, but all that filled the air were my friend Mario's screams of fear.

I said, "No more!"

I pulled the cartridge from the GameBoy Advance SP and I threw it out my window. It landed in some mud outside and I laughed and I closed my window. I turned around... And I saw that the cartridge was back in my GameBoy... Mud oozed from its cartridge slot.

I gasped and I said to myself, "Nooo... It can not be!"

The GameBoy turned itself back on. Mario's face appeared with hyperrealistic skin pores and bloody chapped lips.

He spoke softly, "You stole me from my human... Now I, Mario of Nintendo of America Incorporated, curse you forever...!"

I screamed aloud, louder than an eagle of the night, "There must be some way to undo this curse!"

I decided the only way to rid myself from this curse was to beat the game. I ran up to the first gap of the level. I pushed 'A' and Mario just screamed again.

"HO!"

I fell into the hole and Mario lost a life. This is when I noticed my skin began to rot and turn slightly green.

"What on Earth is happening, Mario?" I asked Mario.

"Every life you lose, I will make you rot! Haah haah huah!"

I asked, "How can I beat the game with only screams? I cannot jump gaps by screaming!"

"Fuck you" Mario said quietly.

I screamed.

"H O A H !"

I decided not to beat the game in fear of me rotting! I decided that I was going to do the right thing. I ran out of my room pushing my feeble mother out of my way in the hallway. I ran down the street to the boy's house. Thunder bellowed and rain pitter-pattered on my crying face. Finally, I reached the house. I leaped up to the boy's window and let myself in. The room was dark.

"Boy?!" I cried out. "Boy, are you there?"

I turned on the light switch. As the room lit up, I saw many people dressed in black. They all cried softly.

"Who the flip are you people," I asked with tears running down my chinny-chin-chin.

"We are this boy's family," a woman replied, "I was his mother."

She pointed into the center of the room where a small, white coffin was suspended over a hole. My heart sank.

"Is your boy inside that box?" I asked with an eyebrow raised and a finger on my chin.

"Yes, a crazed person broke into our home, ravaged our son and stole his childhood by killing him."

Everything went slow. I dropped to my knees. I held the GameBoy tightly in my clenched fist. "Could this be my fault?" I asked myself politely.

His mother walked over to me with a big, fat tear in her eye. She told me, "it really means a lot that a stranger would let himself into our home to pay respects to a boy he didn't know. I'm sure you two would've gotten along great." She then pointed to the priest and said, "Please lower our child into the Earth NOW."

The priest did just that. He pulled on a lever with a shiny red ball on it. The coffin started going down!

I shoved the mother from me and I sprinted toward the coffin. I jumped on that coffin and the ropes snapped. I began falling into the Earth with the child inside. I heard the screams from his family echoing above.

I pried open the coffin as we fell and I shoved the GameBoy into his tiny, cold mouth. "Free me of this curse, child!" I screamed at the top of my... head.

I noticed that we weren't hitting the bottom, and that the darkness in this hole reminded me of the dark I saw in the GameBoy. Could this be what I saw before?

From the darkness, a floating, black and white head of Mario appeared. He said to me, "In this hole, you shall fall with the dead body of a child! Huaaah hah..." and then he Gaussian blurred away... . "This is what I get for stealing, I guess," I said as I shrugged.

Suddenly, Mario appeared again. He said, "Wow... It sounds like you learned your lesson. You n-now be free... Bye." He clicked his... mustache and I was back in my room!

I looked over on my bed and the GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition was gone!

My mother opened the door and she said, "My son! My beautiful son! I make you eggs on toast," and she threw it on my bed and left with a smile on her face.

I-I-r... I realized... maybe stealing not okay. I looked to the sky and I said, "Thank you, Mario inside Gameboy.."

Everything would be alright. And though the child remained permanently dead, his mother could always play his GameBoy Advance SP Blue Edition to remember him by.

Thanks... to me.

 

[Tsurubami Senri]

Somebody's response to the Navy Seal Copypasta


I’m here all weekend - come on ya fuckin punk ass swimmer I’ll be waiting on ya - I’ll be waiting on your punk ass - wait matter of fact give me your address I’ll come to wherever you are and give you a chance to make good on your promises since I know you won’t actually come here me Navy SEAL lol what BUDS class were you in bitch? See you’re talking to an Army Ranger - RSC 13-2 - I’ve ACTUALLY been on clandestine missions - I’ve ACTUALLY been in gunfights - and on the 1% chance that you’re ACTUALLY a buds graduate I’ll tell you RQRF in the korangal - we were saving baby seals on a daily basis because they have no fucking idea what to do when bullets start flying the other direction - so no - I’m not worried about you - the USMC is still using gulf war hand me downs so you’re saying your equipment is dated and sporting extensive wear and tear? Annnndddd no need to involve your top secret lies I mean spies whoops - cuzzzzz I just told you and the internet where I live - you can come here or give me your address and I’ll come there - either way


Here was his response to being told it was a copypasta, for your viewing pleasure.


I don’t know what copypasta means - I don’t know what doxxed yourself means - does not knowing these definitions make me a dumbass moron? What’s your address and I’ll come show you what a real SOF guy is capable of - you threaten my life you little stolen valor fuck brick? Navy SEAL give me a goddamn break you fucking retard - if you grow a set and decide you wanna tie asses with me just come knock on my door - I didn’t do a fucking thing to you people but share a video of a cat - period - if you wanna threaten my life over that be prepared for the consequences - I’m not on here looking for trouble if I was then why would I post a video of a cat on a cat video sub? God almighty and I only posted it here because my woman told me to - I’d never heard of this sub - had I known making a cute pun including the cats name would yield such backlash from faggot ass frenchy stolen valor pukes and broke dick hadji wan kenobis id have just not posted it - I thought the members of this sub would enjoy this video - so I shared it - you wanna use it as a platform to threaten my life and wellbeing? I will crush your fucking windpipe you little coward - so either roll up or tell me where I’m rolling to or you just prove you’re a coward that’s all talk

 

[Tsurubami Senri]

I'm a hardcore Shmup addict. From Touhou to CAVE games, I play them all. Recently though, I've gotten into a series known as Len'en, which is like Touhou but darker. When I went to open up Len'en 4, I noticed that the icon had changed from Tsubakura's face to Suzumi's face. Thinking this is a glitch, I decided to open the file without thinking.

At first, the screen was black, much longer than it should have stayed. I thought my game froze- but then I heard a loud scream through my headphones that almost burst my eardrums!!! I instantly took off my headphones and threw them to the ground and when I looked back to the computer screen, I saw that the game started, but there was something off. The shrine road was monochrome and darker than usual, and I could only play as Tsubakura. Thinking that the scream was actually just JynX's shitty mixing, I lowered my volume, put my headphones back on and started playing.

The game played normally, with the only thing different being that the visuals were monochrome and 4 shades darker. However, when I reached the final cell, the screen turned to static and I heard a seductive, eerie whisper in my headphones. I couldn't make out what it said. The screen cut to black, and what appeared on the screen shocked me. What was on my screen was an image of Suzumi stabbing Kuroji, but the wounds were hyper realistic. I could see the skin splitting open and the knife penetrating into Kuroji's abdomen. I ran to the bathroom and vomited, and I was scared to see what would happen next, but curiosity pulled me back to my room. Suzumi and Kuroji were gone and all that was left was the loading screen to the next stage.

The game proceeded as normal once again, but this time, the music was distorted and all the bullets were replaced with knives. I decided to make my way onto the Haze route, and once I reached the end of the cell, I tensed up again. I thought I could mentally prepare for what I would see, but I couldn't. This time, Suzumi was gutting Shion! The art was in JynX's style, but the blood and organs were all gruesomely detailed. I don't know how this happened, but I could swear, I saw Suzumi look at me and smile. I heard the whisper again, but it was clearer this time.-You've...mistake- was all I heard. Whoever made this game was sick, and I wanted to stop, but I just couldn't.

In the next stage, everything was different. The background music was highly distorted and was playing backwards. Was this Len'en music anymore? The road was the shrine road even though I went the Haze route. It had lots of bloodstains and there were no enemies. I waited for what felt like an eternity. The screen cut to black once more, and that's when I heard the blood curdling scream of...Yabusame. I couldn't believe it. Suzumi beheaded Yabusame and cut them up into many pieces and removed all their organs. The whisper came back, but this time, I could understand it completely. "You've made a big mistake, yo ~" was what the voice said. Suzumi was looking directly at me and smiling menacingly, their teeth razor sharp and blood splattered onto it. The screen cut to a closeup of Suzumi's maniacal face, and the detail and realism shocked me so much that I fainted.

When I woke up, I couldn't remember what had happened. I got up from the floor and checked my computer- it had shut off by itself. Turning it on, I saw what had happened. My wallpaper was a picture of all three victims that Suzumi killed, and in the center was a crying Tsubakura. Their eyes were black like ink and they were crying blood. Suzumi loomed behind them like a shadow, smiling that awful smile. I know why they killed all those people now- they wanted to make Tsubakura all alone. I ran into the bathroom once more and started crying, and when I looked in the mirror, I saw Suzumi staring at me. They winked at me and from the mirror, I don't know how, they stroked my face. Then they disappeared.

It was a while before I went back to my room, and when I did, my computer was still on, but everything was normal again...everything except Len'en 4. Tsuba's face was back again, but they were crying that black ink again, and in the game files, Yabusame, Shion, and Kuroji were missing.
I'm writing this down to warn you- if your Len'en 4 is changed to Suzumi.exe, don't click on it! You suffer like I did. I can feel Suzumi breathing down onto my shoulder now, and they won't stop whispering into my ear. Goodbye, everyone.

 

[Burgerasssand]

if you honestly cant imagine anything fun in life except your job, and you need a fun job to have anything worthwhile, youre probably a sad pathetic man. youll never have a fun job because you never step out of your comfort zone. i guarantee ya you were the kid who fantasized about moving to a new school just so youll 'finally' get some friends. but itd never happen because you never take initiative or do anything, your only access to fun of comradery is thru some kinda group or institution that forces you together with people you have to interact with. you dont do anything on your days off, but you complain that you wish you could. you have no hobbies aside from things you can do thru the computer. you were lost after school because nothing made you passionate and all your 'friends' were just acquaintances you were forced to be with.

you dont want fun or freedom, you want a structure that forces you to have fun, otherwise youll never find it yourself

 

[Haffhart]

I saw William Shatner at a grocery store in Los Angeles yesterday. I told him how cool it was to meet him in person, but I didn’t want to be a douche and bother him and ask him for photos or anything.
He said, “Oh, like you’re doing now?” I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but he kept cutting me off and going “huh? huh? huh?” and closing his hand shut in front of my face. I walked away and continued with my shopping, and I heard him chuckle as I walked off. When I came to pay for my stuff up front I saw him trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen Milky Ways in his hands without paying. The girl at the counter was very nice about it and professional, and was like “Sir, you need to pay for those first.” At first he kept pretending to be tired and not hear her, but eventually turned back around and brought them to the counter. When she took one of the bars and started scanning it multiple times, he stopped her and told her to scan them each individually “to prevent any electrical infetterence,” and then turned around and winked at me. I don’t even think that’s a word. After she scanned each bar and put them in a bag and started to say the price, he kept interrupting her by yawning really loudly.