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Storytime

Copypasta of a person’s past experience or events that is so absurd it became a meme of its own. Usually untrue stories that tries to circle jerk opinions.

MAGA Paradise

    By u/abefrost, its a parody of the Libertarian Paradise copypasta but changed to MAGA.

    I was drinking a "Bud Light but I Swear We're Not Trans Now" and watching “The Art of the Deal in 30 Seconds” in the front seat of my unmarked SUV when a call came in. It was ICE Chief Smith.
    
    “Bad news, officer. We got a situation.”
    
    “What? Is the mayor trying to put a pride flag on the courthouse again?”
    
    “Worse. Somebody just employed a Mexican.”
    
    The can almost fell out of my hands. “What kind of monster would do something like that? Giving away an American's job to someone who will lower wages, deal drugs, and stuff the state's voting box with Democrat votes? Don't they know that every Mexican here destroys our American traditions and contributes to the Great Replacement? Do we have any leads?”
    
    “Not yet. But mark my words: we’re going to find out who did this and we’re going to take them down. Provided the Mexican is here illegally.”
    
    “Easy, chief,” I said. “If they’re here, we already know they're illegal."
    
    “That’s why you’re the best I got, Lisowski," then under his breath "...even if you are a polack. Just make sure you get them."
    
    “Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m on it.”
    
    Ten minutes later, I was on the scene. It was a normal office building, strangled on all sides by pedestrians. I drove over them and went inside.
    
    “Flock™ Presents ICE!®” I said, flashing my badge and my gun and a small picture of Steven Miller “Nobody move towards me or I will take it as a threat!” They didn’t, but I shot an old woman that blinked anyway. Her eyelid could have been armed.
    
    “Now, which one of you punks is going to tell me who hired the Mexican?” No one spoke up.
    
    “Come on,” I said. “Don’t you all understand that the protection of our borders is the foundation of all American freedom?”
    
    It didn’t seem like they did.
    
    “Seriously, guys. If you don't cooperate with law enforcement, how can you feel safe? What if your dog is the next one to get eaten?" I shot a service dog to reinforce the point. "See, now imagine that's your dog."
    
    These people were stonewalling me. I should have known better than to try and get them to empathize, it's a sin for a reason. But it almost seemed like they didn’t care that an American job was stolen.
    
    I figured I could wait them out. I started talking about the wall. A pregnant lady coughed, and I shot since the lack of cooperation probably meant it was an anchor baby. Just then, a man in glasses made a break for it.
    
    “AMERICA FIRST, SCUMBAG!” I yelled.
    
    Too late. He was already out the front door. I went after him.
    
    “Stop right there!” I yelled as I ran. Ugh. Iran.
    
    He was faster than me because he jumped on a communist-looking bike (is there any other kind) and I only buy American-made shoes. Our country needs higher tariffs because even at 100%, criminals buy low-quality Chinese crap.
    
    I was losing him. “Listen, maybe you can buy a pardon!” I yelled. “A real one! From the President! As you know, it's only corrupt if he doesn't pardon himself for selling them!”
    
    He turned. In his hand was a revolver that the constitution in my Trump Bible said he had every right to own (provided he wasn't trans). He fired at me and missed. I pulled my own gun and fired back. The bullet lodged in a taco truck less than a foot from his head. I shot the truck again, on purpose.
    
    “All right, all right!” the man yelled, throwing down his weapon. “I give up, ICE! I confess: I employed the Mexican.”
    
    “Why’d you do it?” I asked, as I slapped a pair of Mexico Paid for These™ Handcuffs® on the guy.
    
    "He was a white guy named Gary, but he had the guts to wear a sombrero on Cinco de Mayo."
    
    We both knew that counted. I nodded grimly, encouraging him to continue.
    
    "And I was afraid."
    
    “Afraid?”
    
    “Afraid America would become economically self-sufficient for all heritage Americans,” he said. “I’m a DEI antifa globalist.”
    
    I wanted to coldcock the guy. Years ago, a DEI antifa globalist killed my partner. Instead, I shook my head.
    
    “Let this be a message to all your socialist friends out on the street,” I said. ““No matter how many elections you steal, no matter how many jobs you give to foreigners, and no matter how many pronouns you invent, you’ll never take away the dream of a great American nation.”
    
    He nodded, because he knew I was right.
    
    Then I shot him. 

    Shrimp saved my life

      AKA the shrimp copypasta was a greentext story from 4chan about how Anon’s life was changed after rearing shrimps.

      Shrimp saved my life
      >be depressed, suicidal xanax- addicted incel
      >one day I go to my /aq/fag uncle's house for some shit >he has pet shrimp, never seen anything like it before
      >he offers to get me some
      >throw them in a barely cycled tank with some shitty rock
      >several shrimp die
      >realize that I killed them with my apathy >realize I need to take responsibility for once in my life
      >do research, learn about water parameters and
      so on
      >eventually I have a beautiful planted tank with no more deaths
      >notice a female shrimp carrying eggs
      >haven't felt this excited about anything in almost a decade
      >the eggs disappear and I once again think I fucked up
      >a few days later I see a tiny transparent baby shrimp
      >I suddenly know how the shepherds felt as they gazed upon the newborn Christ
      >by this point I live and breathe shrimp
      >all my spare time is spent on shrimp research and watching shrimp videos
      >I spend most of the money I had saved from my last job on shrimp products
      >quit the Xanax to support shrimp spending
      >start putting effort into college in hope of getting a good job for my shrimp
      >grades improve, no longer facing the prospect of dropping out
      >relationship with parents improves since I am finally passionate about something and applying myself
      >I see genuine happiness in their eyes when I talk excitedly about my shrimp
      >for my birthday my mom makes me a shrimp cake
      >it even has fondant legs and little chocolate eggs >cry like a little bitch when I see it
      >mom hugs me and tells me she's always been proud of me
      >college dorm neighbours demand to see my shrimp
      >shit they're gonna think I'm autistic
      >they actually think my shrimp are really cool >they start inviting me to their social events >start interacting with girls, get told by girls for the first time in my life that I'm fun and smart
      >I think my shrimp would be proud of me if they knew
      We're gonna make it bros. Even if you can't do it for yourself, do it for the animals that depend on you.

      Day 74 of no fap challenge

        no fap challenge

        Originated as a shitpost from 4chan (primarily on /fit and /v ) around 2017–2018, before spreading across Reddit and Twitter within nofap groups.

        Day 74 of no fap
        
        As I exited my vehicle to walk into work I caught scent of a female in heat 73.35 meters upwind. Because of the fog I couldn’t see her yet but judging by the scent she was mid twenties, and healthy. My ultra attunated hearing was able to pick up her gait, which put her at about 5’6”. My mind, free of the constraints of porn and indecent imagery, was able to calculate her weight based on the ripple in the testosterone continuum produced by her footsteps as she walked away from me.
        
        Being that I was 10 minutes early for work, I made chase and followed her through the fog still without visual contact. I was like a pilot navigating the white abyss by instrument alone. I was trailing her about 130m behind when I sensed her phone vibrate in her purse through the pavement. Holding my ear to the ground I was able to faintly pick up on the conversation she was having with beta BF. Based on the annoyed tone in her voice I knew now was the time to strike.
        
        I readied my legs and concentrated all of my Testo-chakras into my Vastus Medialus muscles as I assumed a sprinters starting stance. I exploded forward in a cataclysm of sex hormone fueled rage. Exactly 2.54 nanoseconds later I began to phase through time and space as I meshed with the testosterone continuum. As I phased through the helpless female target I nutted directly into both of her Fallopian tubes, destroying her previously unbroken hymen and causing her to orgasm INSTANTLY. As I began to slow down 33.6 light years later, I realized that while she would have wanted to thank me for giving her the gift of my superior seed that she was already dead and gone having raised my CHAD progeny to repopulate the earth.
        
        As I float into the the celestial abyss of the greater Crab Nebula I am not filled with regret for having left my world, but rather happiness for having left it a better place.
        
        You’re welcome gentlemen 

        I have this anti-sodomy device that I “wear” at all times, especially in the city. It’s a telescoping steel cylinder with a silicone “faux-sphincter”

          This is scary, for sure, for sure, especially if you didn't grow up like this. But when you grow up where I grew up, you learn to defend yourself.
          
          It's scary to admit, but yes, I've had to ward off robber, muggers, and many would be sexual assaulters and it's in the shaky aftermath of times like those where I appreciate all the time and effort I've put into my self-defense preparations.
          
          You see, I have this anti-sodomy device that I "wear" at all times, especially in the city. It's a telescoping steel cylinder with a silicone "faux-sphincter", and an inviting one at that. The idea is simple. When I'm accosted by a particularly ravenous sort, I preemptively pull down my trousers (or simply unzip the butt flap as is the case on Saturday nights) and present myself to them.
          
          This is to "cut to the chase", so to speak, and avoid any punches or cross chops to my face. In the dim light of the city night, that "faux-sphincter" looks just like a real one, and an inviting one at that. Here's where my training pays off. There's a brief moment of discomfort as the sexual assaulter, or I guess you can call them a rapist, ram jams their beefy beef into my anti-sodomy device. They think they've pulled one over on me, but that's where they're wrong.
          
          You see the telescoping steel cylinder is driven back, forcefully, acting as a firing pin, until it collides with an explosive charge very much like a shotgun shell. That silicone "faux-sphincter" becomes the projectile, and with the amount of zesto peppo I pack in my shotgun ass, that rapist's dick is blown clean off, often resulting in enough blood loss to kill them as a dick wound like that is almost always impossible, for even the most skilled surgeons, to close up properly (I've seen them try).
          
          The only penetration I truly suffer is that of a hot, smoking gun barrel, and I rather like that feeling if that's not too deviant to admit. 

          Do NOT face Allah alone when Astral projecting

            The original ‘Do NOT Allah face alone when Astral projecting’ was first posted on Reddit’s r/BewitchTheTaliban and then reposted to the copypasta subreddit. This was during the height of Valorant’s popularity with its newest agent Astra having the ability to go into Astral form and during Covid lockdown so it became a meme pretty quickly.

            Today while astral projecting I summoned allah to try and weaken him so our hexing spells would work better.
            
            He is so fucking powerful. I'm not at a power level to do this alone. I barely escaped with my life and I'm spiritually injured to a great amount, but I think I'll make it.
            
            I can't imagine what he would do to a new, unsuspecting witch. I'm scared that I will have to face him again soon if I ever want to continue astral projecting. I'm currently burning healing incense and drawing spiritual energy from my crystals to try and heal as quickly as possible.
            
            Please be safe everyone. Allah is much stronger than I first imagined and we will have to do this together if we want to slay a god.

            Do NOT face Mitch McConnell alone when Astral projecting

            Do NOT face Mitch McConnell alone when Astral projecting
            
            Today while astral projecting I summoned Mitch McConnell to try and weaken him so our hexing spells would work better.
            
            He is so fucking powerful. I'm not at a power level to do this alone. I barely escaped with my life and I'm spiritually injured to a great amount, but I think I'll make it.
            
            I can't imagine what he would do to a new, unsuspecting witch. I'm scared that I will have to face him again soon if I ever want to continue astral projecting. I'm currently burning healing incense and drawing spiritual energy from my crystals to try and heal as quickly as possible.
            
            Please be safe everyone. Mitch McConnell is much stronger than I first imagined and we will have to do this together if we want to slay Mitch McConnell.

            Blowfly girl

              The actual origin of the Blowfly Girl copypasta dates back to 2005 from the author (“Deborah” / Blowfly Girl) who wrote and posted her infamous “Maggot Story” on her GeoCities page. When her page was terminated by Yahoo/GeoCities due to its graphic nature, she hopped onto different blogging sites and eventually settled on Blogger where she remained active till 2017.

              After Geocities shutdown in 2009, her infamous story get reposted in sites like Reddit, Tumblr and 4chan in “What is the most disturbing thing you’ve ever read?” threads. While many assume that this is just a creative writing, the sheer volume of her blog entries (spanning several years from 2009 into the early 2010s with consistent, highly specific entries, including a “Dead Deer” sequel) led many online sleuths to believe the author was documenting a genuine, extreme paraphilia.

              Sunday was warm and sunny, just how I always fantasized it would be when I finally went through with it. I stared walking to the dumpster again, I think about 2pm, and I was really excited and nervous. I felt butterflies in my tummy, just anticipating what I was about to do.
              
              The dumpster is in the alley behind a restaurant near my house. It gets emptied on Tuesdays, so by Sunday it's pretty stinky and there are flies buzzing around. Which means there are things rotting inside there and that's just perfect for me. A few times in the past I climbed into that dumpster and masturbated. Nothing too intense. Most I'd ever done was take off my pants and hump against the dirty garbage bags. And one time I laid there with my legs spread, watching the flies land on me.
              
              So anyway, I walked down the alley to the dumpster, and as usual I made sure nobody was around, just to be extra careful. You have to go behind a tall wooden fence to even see the dumpster, and the restaurant is closed on Sunday anyway, so I knew I wouldn't be noticed. But this time there's no way I want to be disturbed. I climbed up and over the side and onto my hands and knees into the mass of plastic garbage bags and other miscellaneous rubbish. The bags felt warm from the sun. The smell in there was extremely foul, much worse than usual, and I knew it was because of my rotting meat. I sat and tried to get myself to relax for a few minutes. There was no reason to hurry. When I was ready, I calmly took off my sandals, my jeans, and my panties. Both pairs. I was wearing two pairs of tight panties with a bunch of my panty liners in the crotch, which keeps anything in my vagina from coming out when I move around. But I was going "all the way" this time, so I went ahead and got completely naked. That was a weird feeling, being totally nude inside the dumpster. It seemed very erotic to me. The sun felt warm on my skin, especially my boobs, which pretty much never see the sun.
              
              I took a pair of rubber kitchen gloves out of my pants pocket and put them on. There was no way I could bring myself to actually touch a maggot with my bare hands. Lying with my back against the side of the dumpster, I fingered my pussy. I was really wet already. I knew I would be. The sensation of the rubber glove against my clit felt unusual, and I kind of liked it. I did that for a little while, just thinking about what I was about to do, while staring at the smaller garbage bag in the far corner of the dumpster where I'd left it yesterday. I still felt the butterflies in my tummy. I kept thinking to myself that I can't wimp out, that I had to go through with this. I wished for a moment that someone else was there to force me to do it, but decided that it was somehow much more sick and depraved to do it to myself willingly. And I thought, yeah, that's me. That's what I want. I deserve this. And so I knew it was time to do it
              
              I got back on my hands and knees and crawled to the other side of the dumpster. I sat down next to my garbage bag, gently picked it up and placed it in front of me. The terrible smell was already stronger. Carefully, I tore the bag open. And there they were. There had to be thousands of maggots, kind of beige-yellow with little black spots on them, all writhing in a large mass. I couldn't even see the rotting meat underneath them. Dozens more maggots clung to the inside of the black plastic, which was coated with a thick light-brown slime. It was such a repulsive sight I thought I was going to throw up right there. But I didn't. I took a few minutes to get control of myself, fingering my clit while staring at the maggots, trying to work up the courage to continue.
              
              I scooped up some of the slime on my gloved finger and brought it to my nose. I knew what it was from the reading I'd done before. It was digestive juices from the maggots, full of bacteria. And it smelled just horrible. I thought to myself, that's what I'm going to smell like. That's the stench that's going to come from my vagina. I want that, I thought, spreading my legs wide apart. I dragged my slimy finger between my pussy lips. My clit felt like a hard little pebble beneath the slime. I didn't want to cum right then, though, and I was still right on the edge of gagging, too. But I knew there was no turning back now, so I let my fingers lightly touch the top of the maggot mass. The maggots felt like nothing I'd experienced before. They seemed to have such energy, totally different from picking up an earthworm or something. And they felt so alive. I was fascinated and nauseated at the same time. Sinking my fingers into the mass, I felt the solid meat beneath. Gently breaking it apart, I could see that the meat had turned gray except for the very center which was still pink, and that the maggots had penetrated into it but not too deeply yet. There was still plenty of food for my filthy little babies. I broke off a small chunk of meat that was covered on one side with maggots and held it for a moment while I fought back another urge to vomit. It was finally time, I thought. I leaned forward, and holding my pussy lips apart with one hand, I gritted my teeth and pushed the maggot-covered chunk of meat into my vagina. And then, totally without expecting it, I had an orgasm. A quick, sharp one that only made me want more.
              
              And more was coming. I broke off another small chunk of meat, along with another part of the maggot mass and pushed it inside me. This one had more maggots on it, and I stopped for a moment to see if I could feel them inside me. I wasn't sure I could, but it didn't matter. I wanted them all. I needed to take them all inside me. With that thought, I went sort of wild. I started pushing bigger chunks of meat and maggots, and even handfuls of just maggots into me, over and over. I was practically hyperventilating, too. I wasn't thinking at all about the noise I must have been making. But now I could definitely feel the maggots squirming inside my vagina. Just the idea of it made me cum again.
              
              Finally, once I had crammed all of the rotten meat, and all of the maggots I could inside me, I felt so filthy, so disgusting, like I'd turned myself into some low, depraved sort of beast. And that made me so incredibly hot, together with the constant movement of the maggots inside me. But it was time to go. Holding my hand over my crotch, I slowly crawled back to my clothes and managed to get dressed again without anything coming out. I put the gloves back into my pocket and climbed out of the dumpster. And right then I could hold back the revulsion of what I'd just done no longer. Holding myself up against the side of the dumpster, I threw up. Ever vomited while you were horny? It's weird.
              
              Walking home down the alley, I felt like I was in a daze. I kept asking myself how I could have done this to myself, but then asking why I'd waited so long. I had to walk slowly to make sure nothing got squeezed out of my vagina, but also to keep from cumming again. I found myself amazed at the whole thing, that I'd stuffed the most intimate part of myself with these things that were too disgusting to even touch without gloves. And that I was totally getting off on it.
              
              Once I was home, I locked myself in my bedroom, took off my clothes, except for my double-panties, and got into bed. I closed my eyes and just let myself feel the maggots squirming inside me. For a while I tried to watch TV, but I could really pay attention to it. The maggots were too wonderfully distracting. I skipped dinner. Later on, when I really had to pee, I did it by taking down my panties and holding my hand over my crotch, wearing the rubber gloves, of course.
              
              The next morning I called off of work after being awake most of the night. I mainly stayed naked in my bed all day masturbating, barely getting up for anything. I wanted to do nothing but let my nauseating little babies grow inside my pussy. Pretty early, though, I realized the smell was getting really horrible. I opened the window. I also wet a bath towel and stuffed it under my bedroom door. I didn't want my parents to get suspicious.
              
              A little later on I realized that I didn't need the panties to hold the maggots and the meat inside me. The mass pretty much stayed in place as long as I laid kind of still. I thought hey, I guess that means I'm infested, which made me cum again. I was always right on the edge of orgasm, and it didn't take much to go over the edge. I also noticed that the maggots seemed to be more active if I kept my legs apart and realized that they probably needed to breathe. So that's how I stayed a lot of the time. I did get up and read my email and posted an update on my web page but I couldn't seem to think clearly enough to write much. Then I had to pee again, but I just didn't want to get up. So I just peed in the bed. It made me cum. I just wanted to keep feeling the maggots moving. And they were. They seemed even stronger, in anything. I was totally in heaven with it. I didn't eat at all, either.
              
              I heard my parents come home from work. During the evening my mom said hello through the door and wondered why I was staying in my room like a hermit. I said I was reading a novel all the way through at once, which I actually do sometimes. She left me alone. I hoped she didn't smell anything. I surfed the Web for a while that night and looked at porn. I came a few more times. I decided to go ahead and take a shit in my bed, right where I was. That just made me more turned on and I ended up smearing some of my shit over my thighs and my pussy and cumming again. I noticed that the maggots started coming out a bit. Maybe they liked the shit. A couple tmes one would creep up on my belly. I'd just flick it back down between my legs.
              
              I was getting tired at that point. It really was time to sleep and my vagina was throbbing and kind of sore from all of the attention. But I was most worried about making sure my maggots could breathe while I was sleeping. Somehow, I managed to find the energy to place a chair on either side of my bed and use sheets to tie my ankles to them. That would keep my legs apart during the night. I pulled the blankets over myself and dozed off lying in my piss and shit.
              
              For the most part I slept through the night, but I kept waking up sweating, with my vagina throbbing worse. I knew I was getting a bad infection from this, but I didn't care. I was not thinking right. I could also feel maggots crawling all over me. I guess I decided I liked that and I'd play with my clit until I came again. I don't know if I realized at the time that I wasn't wearing the rubber gloves anymore. I'd fall back to sleep and wake up again later with little phrases running through my head. Other girls have babies but I give birth to decay and filth, I'd keep thinking to myself. Or I'd say I'm probably ruining my womb and I don't care, I want to be ruined. I know I must have been hallucinating from the infection. I was hoping the maggots had given up on the rotten meat and were eating my vagina instead. My fingers were buried inside my vagina, with my fingertips against part of the meat. Whenever I pressed on it, the maggots would squirm faster and I'd climax again. I could do it over and over and keep cumming.
              
              Finally it was Tuesday morning and sunlight made me wake up. I knew I was really, really sick at that point. I felt weak and dizzy, I knew I had a fever, and now my whole lower belly was sore and throbbing. Despite all that I was still horny and I was still right on the edge of cumming. And then for some reason, all I wanted to do was see my maggots.
              
              I pulled the blankets aside and saw that I really did have maggots crawling all over my body. I was so whacked out I loved it. But I also saw that I had a rash spreading over my tummy and my thighs, and I was soaked with sweat. And then suddenly I needed to see what it looked like between my legs. I sat up a little, picked up the hand mirror I have on the table next to my bed, and held it between my thighs.
              
              My pussy was totally gaped wide open. I'd never seen it like that before. It reminded me of a mouth in a sick, gagging expression. My inner lips were swollen and dark purple, almost black, while my outer lips were cherry red and I was losing a layer of dead skin, like a sunburn. A stream of the light brown slime was oozing from inside my vagina and down my butt crack onto the shitty mattress. Although I could still feel a large mass of maggots and rotten meat inside me, there were maggots everywhere between my legs. Hundreds of them.
              
              And then I saw my fingers on my pussy. They plunged deep into my vagina and dragged out a wad of slime and maggots, which I pressed hard against my clit. I remember having a huge orgasm right then, and I must have passed out. I think I was sobbing too, but I'm not sure.
              
              That's all I remember until I woke up in the hospital.