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Copypasta of absurd and over the top replies in any discussion that became a meme of their own. Such as Navy Seals and UwU what’s this copyapsta.


I swiped (I wiped)

    I wiped copypasta

    Its a meme that started from the Batman Arkham Asylum sub where its used whenever you get bamboozled by images with slide button that trick you into thinking its a multiple image post. Alternatively you can also comment “I wiped” as a reference to this joke.

    against my better judgment I put my thumb on my phone screen and moved it in a lateral motion towards the left, only to be bamboozled cause there was indeed no second image as the little 1/2 symbol in the corner indicated and it was indeed a prank at my expense yet I still proceeded to fall for it despite my initial fears warning me 
    Against my own better judgement, I made a lateral motion with my thumb across the image, under the assumption that it would reveal a new image to my perception. However, this was not the case. I was deceived by a false marker in the top right corner that indicated multiple images attached to one post. Unfortunately, this was an artifact of the original image, and not a true indicator of multiple images attached. 
    Upon scrolling to this post, I had originally thought it would be multiple images, due to the presence of a pair of dots at the bottom, and a pair of numbers in the top right corner. Upon viewing this combination of Ul elements, I had wrongly assumed that this post contained multiple images. Unassumingly, I had placed my right thumb upon the screen where this post was located, and proceeded to drag my right thumb from the right of my phone screen to the left. However, as I began to wipe, a mysterious weariness began to loom over me as I realised that this post may not be what it seems. As I continued to drag my right thumb across my screen, to my horror, I saw the post move to the left of my screen and a new post appear from the right. I had originally thought I would be safe from horrible tricks such as this, but I was gravely mistaken. It was too late for me, and I had wiped to far to go back. The original post had gone too far to the left of my screen, and I watched in horror as the post left my screen and made way for a new one. It had happened. I had wiped on a post that I had originally thought contained multiple images, when indeed it was a trick to make me wipe. As an overwhelming amount of shame surged through me, I placed my right thumb on the left side of my phone screen, and prepared to swipe back. I had been bamboozled, and I was too far gone to change my fatal mistake. As I wiped back to the original post, I couldn’t stop thinking of how such a simple trick had completely bamboozled me, betrayed me into a false sense of security, thinking I was safe from posts such as this. As I finally returned to this post, overwhelmed with shame, i decided to enter the comments and place an image of my own to hopefully commend my actions. As I scrolled through the photo roll of my smartphone, I continued to dwell on the shame of my actions. I knew that there was no undoing my mistake, but I could possibly keep a shred of dignity by announcing my mistake. I decided to locate this image of Man, knowing its significance to posts such as these. As I selected this image, I knew that this amount of shame was surreal, and there was no act that could make a person more sorry than wiping on a fake post. As I finalised my comment I thought. Never again. I mustn’t let another post bamboozle me like this, for the sheer amount of shame and trauma it has caused it nothing short of fatal. I will not wipe. No more.

    your D cup Breasts are a putrid display of opulence

      Your D cup breasts are a putrid display of opulence, while my A cups (of which I am NOT insecure about!!) show dignity, nobility, refined and modest way of life. 
      your D cup Breasts are a putrid display of opulence, while my A cups (of Which i am NOT insecure  about!!) show dignity , nobility, a refined and Modest way of Life.

      It originally came from a Twitter post by @salivasisters but the account and Tweet had since been deleted. Its now usually used as a joke for flat chested anime girls being jealous of “bigger” characters. 

      your D cup  Breasts are a putrid display of opulence and will only lead to deficient altitude, while my A cups (of Which i am NOT insecure  about!!) show dignity , air mobility, a sleek form factor and unsurpassed Ma'ken

      THIS SINGLE PLAYER GAME REQUIRES AN INTERNET CONNECTION — why?

        Its an unhinged satirical Steam review for inZOI criticizing the single player game for requiring online connection to play.

        THIS SINGLE PLAYER GAME REQUIRES AN INTERNET CONNECTION — why? Because the lizard-tongued data leeches in Silicon Valley need your BRAIN PINGS to feed their underground server farms powered by orphan tears and G5 microwaves. I clicked “start game” and a black van parked outside. Coincidence? Wake up. Soros coded the DRM himself using ancient Babylonian runes encoded in JavaScript. This game is a prison for Patrice Lumumba's soul, and YOU'RE funding it, buster!

Offline mode? Disabled. Freedom? Revoked. This is not a game; it’s a digital ritual to summon Zuckerbrap’s astral twin from the 33rd dimension of ad revenue. My cat hasn’t blinked since I launched it. The servers are in Antarctica, guarded by glow in the dark CIA penguins.

They said “always online” but they meant “always observed.” The tutorial whispered my social security number backwards. My fridge now connects to the same server as the game. I don’t even HAVE Wi-Fi. The feds implanted routers into my drywall.

Achievements are behavioral conditioning. Every trophy a sigil. Every frame a glyph. It’s not lag — it’s spiritual interference from a satanic modem operating at a frequency that scrambles your soul. I can smell the ones and zeros. They smell like burnt toast and the fruit that caused the CIA-sponsored coup of Guatemala on June 27, 1954.

If you press Alt+F4, the Federal Reserve pings your location. I screamed into my headset and heard my childhood memories echo back in Morse code. THE GAME IS A LOOP. THERE IS NO ENDING.

When I unplugged my Ethernet cable, a raven slammed into my window. Coincidence? Soros. Coincidence? You’re already logged in.

        Yeah. My parents are successful. And they fucking hate me. Good.

          Comment
          byu/Tyzen_Drayke420 from discussion
          indrugscirclejerk
          Yeah. My parents are successful. And they fucking hate me. Good.

They wake up at 6 a.m., eat egg whites, talk about taxes, wear belts, and pretend they’re fulfilled. I wake up at 2 p.m., eat nothing but weed smoke and anime fanservice, and I know God better than either of them ever will.

They look at me like I’m a parasite. They say I’ve “wasted my potential.” Meanwhile, I’ve spiritually transcended on bars more times than they’ve hugged me in a decade.

My dad’s got a career. My mom’s got clients. I’ve got hentai, vape juice, and an unshakable vision of a future where I marry my cousin and start a religion in a travel trailer.

They chase productivity. I chase inner peace through anime cleavage and chemical stillness. They build retirement plans. I build tents in the backyard and cry with purpose.

They’ll never understand me. And I’ll never need them to. Because I’ve seen the truth: Success is fake. Peace is real. And cousin love is eternal

          Ah, Loss. The meme that refuses to die…

            Its a response to the Loss meme that everyone keep bringing up every once in a while and an overdone meme. 

            Ah, Loss. The meme that refuses to die, like a zombie in a poorly pressed suit, wandering across a lawn looking for brains in the house across the street. There is a certain type of humor that ages like wine. Others, like Loss, age like milk left in the midday sun during the summer. And yet, there is an almost religious insistence on kicking this carcass of a meme to make it seem alive, as if it were some kind of transcendental joke, but that is not the reality, Loss is dead.

Let's face it — Loss was never funny. It never had comic timing, it never had an interesting construction, it never had a punchline. It is, at best, a visual curiosity. At worst (and more often), it is the perfect excuse for the pseudo-intellectual of the shitpost to feel part of an elite that “gets the joke”. But the cold hard truth is that it is not funny. It has no content. It does not have even a modicum of charm. There are four panels organized in a generic way, reproduced in a thousand lazy variations, and then someone appears with that air of wisdom from a 2009 forum and asks: “Is this Loss?” as if he had just asked a riddle from Plato.

No, my friend, this is not Loss. This is a lack of critical sense. It is the robotic repetition of an empty format, recycled to exhaustion by those who do not have a shred of creativity.

And the worst part is that the original Loss isn't even a meme. It's a sincere (and extremely misplaced) attempt to address a serious issue in a humorous webcomic. The creator wanted emotion, impact, maybe tears. What he got was an eternity of being remembered for a poorly positioned and unfunny strip, reinterpreted by people who thought that some risks could be the new Shakespeare. The result? A meme that became a joke not because of its content, but because of its inability to be meaningful in itself.

The cult of Loss is almost a sociological study on creative exhaustion. It's as if the internet, in a collective fit of forced nostalgia, decided to keep a dead joke alive out of sheer stubbornness. And each new appearance, each minimalist version, each visual adaptation using chairs, posts, bread or lines of code or even plants from a digital game is like a shovel of lime on the dignity of digital humor. The joke has already been made. It has already been understood. It has already been parodied. It has already been surpassed. And yet, there it is. Reborn in comments, in random images, in Reddit threads, with the subtlety of an elephant doing a tap dance.

You may like shitposts. I like them too. But real shitposts are subversion, they are absurd, they are surprise. Loss is the opposite of that: it is the meme of stagnation. It is the symbol of the joke that has become an obligation. And if you are still posting this in 2025 thinking you are being clever, ironic, or cult — I'm sorry to say, but you are just behind the times. And not in a vintage way. In a tiresome way.

So please, for the sake of humor, good taste and collective digital sanity: let Loss rest. Enough is enough. Bury him once and for all. Put a rose on his tombstone and move on. There's a new meme in town, a fresher laugh waiting to happen. And if you still feel the need to post Loss, maybe the real Loss is the time we waste pretending that it's still funny.