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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.

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.

    Friends-DON’T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!

      Its a classic copypasta dating back to May 2004 on the comedy website CraigslistsGreatestHits.com (and was subsequently cross-posted as “Craigslist Gold”). “There! America On-line now has complete Usenet access! said by some idiot system tech.” is a direct reference to the infamous “Eternal September” of 1993, when AOL opened up Usenet newsgroups to the mainstream public, flooding the old internet with a wave of endless newbies. The author was a heavy user of early-2000s forums.

      Friends-DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
      
      Before shaving your ass hair, READ THIS
      
      STOP! Before you do, read this. You may change your mind.
      
      I have recently made a mistake in my life, and I offer my story to all though tasteless, that you may learn from my error. It all started, as many things do, with me having trouble pooping. No, I was not constipated; this was not a regularity problem but a matter of technique. It seems my ass-hair had grown to such a length that tiny grogans were constantly getting tied up in the matted jungle between my asscheeks. It led to much frustration, with me KNOWING that I still had something to drop, but unable to shake the tenacious turd loose from its butthair dwelling.
      
      Eventually I would have to do two things: either reach down with somepaper and try to pinch off the lingering loaf (which required careful precision to avoid smearing the creature all over my rear, especially since I had no way of seeing what I was doing) or just go for broke, start wiping, and hope that I could remove all the leftover fecal matter before the toilet paper reached its Can't-Be-Flushed threshold. I was contemplating this problem, when I had what seemed at the time to be a bright idea. "Hey, this is my butt and my butt-hair, right? So why don't I just eliminate all the hair, and then my grogans will flow out like beer from a keg!" I said to myself. It is a statement that will go down in history with a lot of other regretted statements. "How many Indians could there be?" said by General Custer. "Looks like a good day for a drive!" by JFK. "There! America On-line now has complete Usenet access!" by some idiot system tech. Such was my anal shaving idea.
      
      I performed the operation that night, with a cheap disposable razor and a towel to sit on. Starting from the bottom, and shaving from the crack to the cheeks, I began the arduous process of ridding my ass of hair. Occasionally, I would have to clean the razor of accumulated hair, which I did by wiping it on the towel. Slowly, my twin mounds and the between-ravine began to resemble the hairless cheeks of a newborn babe. Finally, I wiped the razor one last time, and surveyed my work. The towel was covered with a pile of hair. My ass was smooth as ivory. I smiled, satisfied, thinking my troubles were over.
      
      Little did I know. I now have a great respect for anal-hair. Like everything in this world God created, it has its mighty purpose in existence. It was only after I had removed it that I started to learn how much I had been taking it for granted. For one, it provides friction. I learned this the next day, when I walked out into the sun heading for class. After climbing two flights of stairs and starting to sweat, I started to notice something unpleasant. The sweat was accumulating in my crack, and was causing the unpleasant sensation of my two asscheeks sliding past each other with every step. I thought about going to the bathroom and wiping it off, but had to get to class. Eventually, I thought, it would dry. Unfortunately, it did dry, but only after mingling with the microscopic poop -molecules lingering around my brown starfish. When I stood up after class, my cheeks were stuck together with a slimy sticky poop/sweat combination. As I made my way back to my dorm, it started to itch. God-DAMN, did it itch! Felt like a swarm of ants was making its way up and down my crack. Fighting to keep from jamming my hand down there and scratching away, I rushed back to the dorm. Unfortunately, this exertion caused me to sweat, and when I finally reached my room, my cheeks were sliding back and forth against each other like a pair of horny cane-toads. I quickly dropped my pants, and attempted to dry my ass off by sticking it in front of a fan and spreading my cheeks.
      
      As I pulled the two mounds of flesh apart, a horrible stench burst free and filled the room. Every dog within a 4 block radius started to howl. I had it worst of all, as the ripe aroma of festering poop/sweat went into the fan and blew back into my face. I fought to keep from heaving. And as I sat there, fighting vomit, my ass cheeks spread and dripping, with the concentrated aroma of my body odor mixed with the tangy smell of my own poop blowing right into my face, I had only one thought: "It will be like this until the hair grows back. Weeks." Later on, trying to deal as best I could, wiping my ass at every opportunity, I discovered another wonderful use for ass-hair - ventilation. I attempted to launch a fart, only to have it get stuck between my asscheeks.
      
      Apparently, with no hair, the two pink twins can get vacuum sealed together, and the result was a frustrating fart that slid up and down between my cheeks like a lost gerbil. As if that wasn't enough, I am now enduring further torture. As anyone who has ever shaved anything knows, when hair is first growing in, it comes in as stubble. Imagine your ass having the texture of a brillo pad.
      
      Well, that is what I am dealing with now. It is a hellish torture, and there are many times when I just look out the window and contemplate why I shouldn't just jump out and get it all over with in one fleshy splat, rather than endure this constant agony.
      
      Friends-DON'T SHAVE YOUR ASS-HAIR!
      

      Wake up at 8 PM the night before so I’m up before the enemy.

        Wake up at 8 PM the night before so I’m up before the enemy.
        
        Look at myself in the mirror, punch the mirror, scrape a shard of broken glass across my face to shave. Lubricate with motor oil. Once.
        
        Turn the shower all the way to cold and climb in. Scrub my junk with steel wool.
        
        Make my bed. Wife is still in it. Doesn’t matter, make the bed anyway.
        
        Get in the truck to go to work. AC is for weenies. Drink my own sweat for hydration.
        
        Arrive at the steel mill. Punch in. Guy says I don’t work there and was never hired. He’s been saying that dice my first day on the job. I was seven years old. Doesn’t matter, it’s about the grind, not the money. Put in a light day - 46 hours.
        
        Drive home. Eat a bottle of Guinness for dinner. Crunchy. Spit out the cap when I’m done.
        
        Lay down to sleep at 7:45 PM.
        
        Repeat. 

        I remember my friends and I sitting in the computer lab at school right when RuneScape really started blowing up.

          I remember my friends and I sitting in the computer lab at school right when RuneScape really started blowing up.
          
          My friend was especially into it, and would spend each and every day telling me little bits of trivia about something I could not care less about. Time and time again, I told him I didn’t care. Finally, I had to sit him down and tell him that I recently discovered the Mr. Hands video, and that was far more important to me than any silly game.
          
          He stopped playing RuneScape within a couple years but over two decades later, guess who is still watching furry porn? That’s right, me. 

          Chef Boyardee beefaroni

            Chef Boyardee beefaroni. One summer, because I was hella bored, I bought some chef Boyardee beefaroni and put it in my friend's mailbox as a prank. He didn't find it but his parents did, and they asked their neighbors who did it. He suspected me at first, but I managed to get him off of my tail. Now our neighborhoods were fairly close to eachother, so I could be over there in a 50 minute walk. Every night, I walked up to their neighborhood (walking anywhere at 2:am is creepy as hell but the Boyardee bandit does not stop for demons) and put a can of beefaroni inside their mailbox. After about a month, they call the police to find out who's putting beefaroni in their mailbox. Luckily the police really didn't care that much and just told them to get a camera which they eventually did. Meanwhile my friend is telling me all of this from his perspective, right, so I usually know what they do before I strike. So I start covering my face, and pretend to hunch over. I have no idea where this camera is, so I can never be too careful. They call the cops again and give them a profile, and now the cops are looking for a crippled beefaroni bandit. After a solid 3 months of this shit, one of the baggers at the store gets word somehow, and starts getting suspicious because he sees me buying tons of beefaroni. He confronts me, I tell him the truth, and I shit you not he starts helping me beefaroni my friend's house. We're putting it all over hiding it in the lawns, porch, fence, you name it. Halloween rolls around, and I dress up as chef Boyardee. I go to my friends house and say "your daily subscription to Chef Boyardee beefaroni has ended. Would you like to renew?". I hear laughter in the background, and it's the store clerk. Turns out he recently started dating best friend's sister, and that's how he heard. Truth be told, I don't think I've ever been punched harder than when my friend found out. Good times. We still laugh about it from time to time.
            
            TLDR. Bought and hid chef Boyardee beefaroni for nearly half a year around my best friend's house. The Beefaroni bandit strikes again! 

            4chan IHOP pancake copypasta

              "Can I have the fruit pancakes please?"
              >"The what? There's nothing on the menu called "fruit pancakes". "Th-the fresh fruit pancakes." >"Huh..."
              "Th-this one..." [points to menu] 
              >"Say it."
              "What?"
              >"Say. It."
              "I'd like a... r-....rooty t-tooty...."
              >"Say it like you mean it."
              [starting to cry] "I-I want a r-r-rooty t-tooty f-f-....f- fresh n... n fruity...."
              
              Why do dining establishments like to humiliate their customers like this?