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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.

linkedin is not a professional network, it is a sewer with an instagram filter

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    linkedin is not a professional network, it is a sewer with an instagram filter. a place where people cosplay as future leaders but in reality they cannot even handle their own inbox. it is not networking, it is a reality show for grown up children who play with job titles instead of dolls. and everyone pretends they are sharing inspiration when in fact it is just masturbation for likes. you scroll the feed and it feels like you landed in an amusement park for desperate clowns. they write how grateful they are for new challenges and the crowd claps like they just cured cancer. in reality the only thing they invented is a new way to shove the word synergy into a sentence that makes no sense anyway. everyone pretends to be authentic but it is authenticity on the level of an influencer filming a video about loving nature while standing in front of a palm tree in dubai. and then the comments start, an orgy of mutual ass kissing. great insight tom, so inspirational karen, as if every line is the gospel instead of reheated motivational calendar bullshit. it is a graveyard of souls dressed in suits that already rotted inside. everyone writes like they are preparing for a ted talk but instead of ideas worth spreading they have farts disguised as articles. and the world nods along pretending this matters. the truth is it is just theater for people who sold their identity long ago for a gym card and free coffee from the office machine. and when you think it cannot get worse, there comes the guy posting a vacation selfie with the caption leadership is also about recharging batteries. really? maybe next tell us how the bubbles in your prosecco represent your journey as a manager. this whole rant is not just about linkedin, it is a manifesto of how low some of us are willing to fall and how cheap we are willing to whore ourselves out just to look important in a digital clown parade.

    John iRacing, We Eagerly Await the Dev Blog

      Created by u/ctnhededninymgn, its a copypasta for anyone excited for the dev blogs in iRacing.

      Every single day I wake up at 5:37 AM sharp, not because I set an alarm, but because my body has been biologically hardwired to sense when the newest iRacing development blog might drop. I roll out of bed, slam a monster energy drink, and immediately refresh the forums like a stockbroker watching the NASDAQ crash. My neighbors think I’m unemployed- NO. I’m simply employed by DESTINY, serving as a guardian of digital patch notes.

I’ve stopped eating. Who needs food when the only nourishment I require is word of a new tire model coming to the Skip Barber car. My teeth are permanently clenched shut from the anticipation of seeing the words “laser-scanned” dance across my screen. My roommate sat me down last week to ask why I printed out the entire 2025 season 3 patch notes and pinned them to the fridge. I told him it was art, he told me it was “deeply concerning.”

Every night before bed, I kneel at my shrine -comprised entirely of old Logitech pedals and a photo of Dale Earnhardt Jr.- and I whisper: “Please, John iRacing, deliver unto us the dev blog.” I start levitating and reciting hymns to encourage the iRacing gods to shine upon us all. Then I pass out in my rig, still wearing my gloves, sweating through my Nomex suit, my wheel base twitching like a possessed demon from the ritual I have just performed.

I have not spoken to my family in weeks. My friends stopped inviting me to things. But they do not understand. They will never understand. The only friends I need are the many charts and lists of potential new tracks and cars I’ve speculated are coming. #Soon.

So here I sit. F5. F5. F5. If the dev blog doesn’t drop today, I don’t know what will become of me... but I do know one thing: when it finally comes, I will ascend.

      Nothing. Nothing. You’ll know nothing about us, about them. I’m everywhere. I’m nowhere.

        Its Lila’s monologue in S6 of Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir.

        Nothing. Nothing. You’ll know nothing about us, about them. I’m everywhere. I’m nowhere. I’m a chameleon. Nowhere. You. Won’t. Get. Anywhere.
        nothing. nothing. you’ll know nothing about me, about us, about them. i’m everywhere, i’m nowhere, i’m a chameleon. nowhere. you won’t get anywhere.
        Nothing. Nothing! You'll know nothing about me, about us, about them. I'm everywhere. I'm nowhere! I'm a chameleon. Nowhere! You won't get anywhere
        nothing. NOTHING. you'll know NOTHING about ME, about US, about THEM. i'm everywhere. i'm nowhere. i'm a chameleon. nowhere. you won't get ANYWHERE!

        “Yuri” this, “Yaoi” that, the word that you are looking for is GAY, as in HOMOSEXUAL.

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          byu/Mig_Maluco_G4cha from discussion
          inStonetossingjuice
          "Yuri" this, "Yaoi" that, the word that you are looking for is GAY, as in HOMOSEXUAL.

"Uhm, uhm. I like Yaoi." No, you like GAY. You like MEN KISSING.
"Uhm, I drew some Yuri." No, you drew LESBIANS.
"Uhm, here's my Yuri fanfiction :3" MENTAL ILLNESS.

Embrace the Gay. Do not hide it under FAKE, COMMUNIST, JAPANSHIT titles like Y*ri and Y*oi. Same goes for so-called "Femboys" and their rabid cult of GAYS.

          Tonight is the darkest hour in Premier League history.

            A Newcastle fan had a crashout in a postgame thread on Reddit after losing to Liverpool 2-3.

            Tonight is the darkest hour in Premier League history. Don’t even talk to me about Aguero, or Leicester, or Istanbul - this is the night football died. Down to 10 men because of a bent VAR call, the whole stadium against the corrupt circus that is Liverpool, we fight like lions for 100 fucking minutes… and then a fucking 16-YEAR-OLD called Rio strolls on and rips the heart out of St James’ Park. This is scripted theatre. This is a fucking fix.

Arne Slot - fuck you. You've already wormed your way into the VAR cartel. You’ll be remembered not as Klopp’s successor but as the smug fraud who smiled while refs bent over backwards to hand you three points you didn’t deserve.

Isak - I hope you’re proud. While your team mates were dying on that pitch, you sat sulking in your camp, crying about promises. You could have made the difference, you could have been the hero, but instead you’ll go down as the coward who abandoned us on the darkest night. Your career is cursed now.

Chiesa - irrelevant, spineless, cowardly little prick. You didn’t want to come here, you didn’t want to be part of this fight. Tonight proved why. You’re not built for it. Enjoy rotting away on the bench.

Virgil Van Dijk - the “colossus,” the “Rolls Royce defender.” What a fucking joke. You conned a red card out of the ref, you spent half the night on your arse, and you still needed a 16-year-old to bail you out. Fraud. Cheat. Coward. You’ll never live this performance down.

And Klopp - don’t think you’re free from this. Your shadow is all over tonight. This Liverpool side is your creation: entitled, protected, smug. Your legacy is favouritism, a club that gets decisions gifted on a plate because the league can’t imagine life without them at the top. Fuck your documentaries, fuck your fake grin - this is your stain on football history.

3-2. To them. With the ref, with VAR, with the system all behind them. Tonight, football is dead. The Premier League is dead. What happened at St James’ Park will be remembered as the moment the game sold its soul for good.

Toon Army forever, but fuck, they’ve killed us tonight. They’ve killed the sport we love.