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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.


Once again, another L taken by the dyslexic community.

    Once again, another L taken by the dyslexic community. You know, I've actually dedicated the past 7 years of my life to specifically bullying people with dyslexia over the internet. I have built up a bulky catalogue over the years, storing each persons name, social medias, phone numbers, and occasionally even addresses so I can harass them at any point in time. I spend at least half of my day simply researching which people online have dyslexia, and because of my persistent work towards my cause, I have catalogued a total of 61,637 people (and growing by the second). It has gotten to the point of where I have partially automated the process by having several different bots sort through social media posts 24/7 and if my skillfully selected group of keywords bring in enough matches, that person will be added to the database. I am actually the main owner of the critically acclaimed (17 followers) Twitter account, "Dyslexics Taking L's", and have gained major traction on several tweets, with my most popular tweet reaching 50 likes and 1,285 quote retweets. And I've even put my Reddit community of r/DyslexicHate to good use, and have made my catalogue visible to all 88 members of the community so we can keep the online harassment at maximum efficiency. I have even put several of those people on paid wages to keep things moving more consistently. I have every dyslexic person on my list AUTO-BLOCKED on all platforms and I don't plan for that to change anytime soon either. Mark my words, I will eventually erase dyslexic people off the internet, and hopefully eventually the planet. Most of those internet NORMIES would take this as me being a crazy, insane, or unstable person, but at least I have a cause I'm putting myself towards, and I have the willpower to go all the way through with it.
    
    Oh, and by the way, within the time of me typing this (which wasn't that long, as I am a keyboard wizard who can type at 133WPM and is number 1 ranked in TypeRacer), my catalogue has now grown to 61,899 people.


    You will never be Romanian

      You will never be Romanian. Your country has no EU membership, it has no money, it has no infrastructure. You are a homosexual Balkaner twisted by oligarchs and poverty into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
      
      All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back Europeans mock you. Your parents are disgusted and ashamed of you, your “friends” laugh at your ghoulish economy behind closed doors.
      
      Romanians are utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed Romanians to sniff out Moldovans with incredible efficiency. Even 'Dovans who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to a Romanian. Your famished appearance is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk Romanian to your country, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a look at Chisinau.
      
      You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a weed, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
      
      Eventually it’ll be too much to bear - you’ll buy a car, pick a random EU country, go there, and freeze to death on the street, because nobody wants to employ your kind. Your parents will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll bury you with a headstone made from garbage and plywood, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a Moldovan is buried there. Your body will decay and go back to the dust, and all that will remain of your legacy is a skeleton that is unmistakably Moldovan.
      
      This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.

      I own a gladius for home defence because that’s what the Founders of Rome intended

        Own a Gladius for home defense, since that is what the founders of Rome intended. Four plebeians break into my home. "By Jove!" as I replace my Toga with a Galea and grab my Pila and Gladius. Leave a golf ball sized wound in the first man, he is dead on the spot. Throw my other Pilum at the second man, miss him entirely because he is too far and nail the neighbour's dog. I have to resort to the Onager at the top of the stairs loaded with pots of Greek Fire, "Roma Invicta!" as the Greek Fire burns two men to a crisp, the roaring sound and out of control fire sucking up all the oxygen. Strap my Scutum to my arm and charge the last terrified plebeian. He bleeds out waiting for the police to arrive since Gladius wounds are impossible to stitch up. Just as the founders of Rome intended.

        I really don’t get hookup culture.

          I really don't get hookup culture. Like there is no way that sex is that much better than just jerking off. Expecially if you don't even like the person you are doing it with. There is so much more effort to it too. First you gotta swipe on the dumb app for however long that takes and then you gotta chat up the girl enough so that she doesn't think you will murder her then you have to take your car and drive to her place only too fuck for maybe 30 min. Like why? Does anyone actually enjoy this shit? I mean I am a turbo virgin so I wouldn't know but it just seems so shit to me. Is hookup culture just for people with no hobbies or what?

          Club penguin is kil but smart

            I apologise for my incomplete understanding of the syntax and grammatical rules, and spelling of words, of the English language, as I speak a language that is, in fact, not English, which is most likely evidenced to you, the reader, who is most likely a homo sapiens sapiens, as am I, by the fact that the English I wrote this sentence to you in was syntactically and grammatically incorrect and contained spelling errors, and probably assumed to be Russian as the structure of my sentence corresponds to the stereotypical faux bad Russian attempt at English known to those of our species who speak English.
            
            What was your immediate and precise location when Club Penguin, an internet game designed for children but frequently played by teenagers, young adults and adults of our species for the purpose of taking images of the game in which the penguins these individuals of our species controlled were shown saying things that juxtaposed the context of the game, such as using expletives and/or (but not limited to) making sexist, homophobic and/or racist statements (whether or not those statements actually corresponded to the views of the individuals producing the images, or even those viewing them) sometimes with text overlaid, for the purpose of humour, also known as a meme, was discontinued?
            
            I, personally, was at my place of residence, assumedly a house built with materials such as, and in no particular order, brick, mortar, plaster, copper, iron, glass, wood, plastic and concrete, consuming a processed corn based, savoury snack with a dry, crispy texture and coated with cheese-like flavouring as a fine powder, known as the 'Dorito', when my telecommunications device, in this case either a landline telephone, a hardwired device connected to an external network (usually running underground) for the propose of transferring my voice with minimal latency to places a distance from my home that would otherwise be too far for the recipient to hear, or a mobile telephone, which works on a similar principle to the home phone however uses electromagnetic waves anywhere from 600 to 6000 MHz, depending on one's country of residence and telecommunications service provider, to transmit one's voice, produced a sound, as it is designed to do, to alert me to the fact that there was a person using their own telecommunications device in an effort to contact me.
            
            The individual, whose voice was transmitted to me through the telecommunications device the individual reading this text imagines the aforementioned individual to be speaking to me through (most likely determined by the reader's age, as there has been a close to linear decline in households with landline telephones since approximately 2003), spoke, assumedly in the same language that I was speaking, and said to me, "Club penguin is kil", which the reader is likely to assume was in my native language as it also contains poor grammar, syntax and spelling. This sentence informed me that the internet game known as Club Penguin had been discontinued.
            
            This shocked me, as I enjoyed viewing the memes individuals of my species produced using the game known as Club Penguin. This is evidenced by my inability to say more than a single word in response to the news of the game's demise. Unable to fully articulate the intensity of my feelings or thoughts regarding the shocking news that was just communicated to me through the telecommunications device I was holding, I said a single word that reflected these inner processes and captured the essence of my disbelief that something so important to me had ended: "no".

            “Whats a women?” explained by a gamer.

              You ever play Portal and look at yourself through 2 portals? That's what a woman is. Sometimes they want to become your "partner" (like duo queuing in Fortnite). Often they want to live with you, kind of like bitch wife.
              
              Sometimes they will want to have sex too. That's like a quick time where you have to keep button spamming till you cross the win threshold and then you get a cutscene like in the GTA strip clubs.
              
              The downside is the shit ton of money you'll spend on cosmetics and loot boxes for her, like microtransactions.
              
              Also, sometimes they'll start queing with another guy or will uninstall the game.