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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.

“I’ve never been a fan of Internet Explorer”

    The Big Bang Theory is an American sitcom about a bunch of geeks and a ton of nerd references.

    Its a copypasta joke that the sitcom Big Bang Theory is actually unfunny and people would only laugh because it has laugh track. Its unclear where it originally came from but the earliest dates back in 2018 from Reddit.

    "I've never been a fan of Internet Explorer"

Crowd laughs nervously and a few grunts are heard from the back seats as people edge closer to hear the punchline.

"Why not? Don't you like the internet?"

The crowd suddenly stands up, aware that they are about to receive what they came for. People slowly edge closer to the set as Sheldon prepares for his next line. Sweat is clearly visible on his brow and his mouth is quivering in anticipation as he readies himself for what is about to happen.

"I just prefer Firefox because, like the fox, I am cunning and nimble."

The crowd suddenly surges forward as the words escape Sheldon's mouth. They are so powerful, they almost shake the very foundations of the CBS studios. He watches as, in what he perceives as slow motion, the crowd moves toward his fragile body. He has been preparing for this moment his whole life. This is his moment. This is his Emmy. This is his Golden Globe. This is even his Oscar. The crowd converges around him so quickly they ignore the trampled cries of Leonard and Penny, who now lie shaking on the floor, their bones crushed by the sheer mass of the crowd. Sheldon stares back at the eyes around him. What he sees are no longer people. What he sees is the human psyche stripped down to its core. Their lives, what they were before this moment has been forgotten. Ravenous. Hungry. They want one thing from him. Sheldon closes his eyes, clears his mind and relaxes his body. What happens next depends completely on the next few seconds. The time between this and what he mutters next feels like an eternity. Slowly, he opens his eyes. He looks at Leonard, then at Penny, both lying lifeless on the floor. Without a second thought, he says with resounding conviction...

"BAZINGA"

In a split second, the crowd pounces on his ready and waiting body. Man, woman, child all at once. Sheldon cries out in complete ecstasy as they consume his flesh. He stops suddenly, as he drifts into eternal slumber. Peace at last.

    Bob l’eponge

      i grew up watching cartoons in french and i remember trying to make friends in school asking everyone "yall watch bob l'eponge" omg they bullied me so hard

      I banned jarlic from our home, and my wife keeps finding workarounds.

        I banned jarlic from our home, and my wife keeps finding workarounds.
        byu/FeedTheADHD inCookingCircleJerk
        I banned jarlic from our home, and my wife keeps finding workarounds. 

I tried to be thoughtful. I handed my wife a contract forbidding preminced jarlic. She smiled when she signed it - which I took to mean that she thinks I asked her politely, and she was going to respect my wishes. "Fine by me. No more jarlic," she said as she put pen to paper. I made copies of the document, locked the original in my safe and went to bed happy.

The next day, she comes home with groceries, and I do my routine inspection. At the top of the bag, prominently displayed, is a Ziploc bag of preminced garlic. "What the hell is this?" "Baglic," she says. Baglic. "Just following the rules."

I amend the contract. "No preminced garlic inside of any container." She signs it again, smiling. Her smile is no longer comforting. The next day she comes home with one bag of groceries, and one closed fist. She sets the bag down on the counter, locks eyes with me, and then dumps a fistful of minced garlic onto the countertop. "Handlic."

My printer is running out of ink and I'm running out of patience. "No preminced garlic anywhere on our property." She signs it again, smiling bigger than ever. I cannot even fathom how she's going to spin this one.

The next day, she walks in holding nothing but a jar of minced garlic. I've got her dead to rights now. I'm waving the document around and explaining to her that she violated the contract. She walks over to the window and lifts the shade. There's a table in our front yard, an acoustic guitar leaned against it, and a man with face tattoos chopping garlic gloves by hand and lifting it into a jar with a bench scraper. "Honey, this isn't pre-minced garlic, this is Post-minced garlic. Get fucked."

I hate my fucking life.

        You are playing Mario Kart World.

          source

          Wake up babe, new Mario Kart World copypasta just dropped by u/SuperPapernick.

          You are playing Mario Kart World.

The race was hard fought, but you made it to first place in the final lap. The race is almost over and your lead is commanding. You see a blue shell approaching, but you are not worried. "I have a Super Horn, I'm safe" you think to yourself as you watch a ghost rip it from your hands and laugh in your face. The finish line is in sight. You get hit by the blue shell. Followed by a red shell. And another red shell. And another red shell. You finish 15th.

You are playing Mario Kart World.

Finally, after 11 attempts trying to 3-star Heart Rally at 150 cc, you maintained a lead through the whole race, at every checkpoint. It is the final lap. You drove like a pro using Bowser, the fastest character in the game, driving the fastest car available with 20 coins. All your drift and jump boosts were optimal, your racing line immaculate. You took every shortcut. You can see the finish line approaching. "Finally, my practice, perseverance and skilled driving payed off" you think to yourself as you helplessly watch a tiny AI controlled baby, driving a motorized boom box, overtake you on the final straight despite the stat discrepancy and your top speed. You'll have to try again, you think, as you hold in a scream of frustration.

You are playing Mario Kart World.

The race begins, you intentionally do not boost-start. You purposely hang back in 24th place, rerolling items until you get a golden mushroom and a bullet bill. You don't touch the R-button once, don't drift, pull off no tricks and drive like a 3-year old who has never played Mario Kart. You stay in the back of the race deliberately. During the second half of the final lap, you finally unload your items and effortlessly cut through the competition. You finish in first place seconds ahead of the runner up. They stood no chance. You smile a fake smile and tell yourself "I really fought hard for that win, what an accomplishmant it was! A true test of skill!"

You just played Mario Kart World.

          My wife was left alone for 3 weeks and I wish she’d just cheated instead. Am I Under Reacting?

            My wife was left alone for 3 weeks and I wish she’d just cheated instead. Am I Under Reacting?
            byu/Moriloqui instories

            Its a rewrite of the original ‘My husband is a human gas chamber‘ story that has been gender swapped and rewritten using presumably AI.

            My wife was left alone for 3 weeks and I wish she’d just cheated instead.

Three weeks ago, I left for a work trip to Germany. My wife didn’t want to come. “I’ll hang back, water the plants, binge some Netflix,” she said. She’s 39. I thought, “Okay, she’s a grown adult. She’ll be fine.”

She was not fine.

Day 2, she tries to make sourdough from scratch using a YouTube video and what she thought was yeast but turned out to be Epsom salt. The result: a rock-hard bread grenade that cracked our marble counter. She named it “Crumbzilla” and displayed it like a trophy.

Then, she decided to go “all raw vegan” for some reason and ordered 19 pounds of produce from a sketchy organic site. Half of it arrived moldy. The other half, she juiced. Exclusively. For a week. Just juice. No solids. She got so dizzy she mistook the laundry hamper for the fridge and put all our frozen meals in it. They’ve since liquefied.

To survive, she pivoted to eating Pop-Tarts and spoonfuls of peanut butter. Her justification: “Balance.”

Meanwhile, she stopped wearing actual clothes. Just bathrobes. The same one, every day. By week two it was 70% robe, 30% soup stains. The dog refused to cuddle her.

Last night, I land, exhausted, and I’m greeted by a living room that smells like fermented ginger and regret. She runs to hug me—robe flapping open, holding a jar of pickles in one hand and a half-knitted scarf in the other. Apparently, she took up knitting to “relax her stomach.”

This morning, I wake up to her whispering “I think I’m a kombucha now” and burping in her sleep. The dog has moved his bed into the bathroom and won’t make eye contact with either of us.

I grabbed my keys and said I was going out for coffee. The dog followed. He needed air. I needed therapy.

So here I am at a café with a silent, traumatized schnauzer, drinking espresso like it’s holy water. The barista asked if I wanted oat milk. I said no, because my trauma already comes in liquid form.

Hope your morning’s less... fermented.

EDIT: To those raising eyebrows in the comments—hey, fair enough. Humor’s subjective. It’s a story. No kombucha was harmed, no souls were actually fermented, and yes, the dog is emotionally recovering with the help of peanut butter and a weighted blanket. The relationship is fine. The only thing that truly suffered was the fish’s dignity.

This isn’t a manifesto. It’s satire. If you made it all the way to the part about vegan hotdog shakes and still thought this was a cry for help instead of a comedy-horror spiral, then I truly admire your commitment to missing the point.

To everyone else who laughed, side-eyed their own bathrobe, and gave their pets a reassuring pat—thank you. You're the reason the fish hasn’t completely given up. Yet.

            Smogon has brainrotted me

              Smogon copypasta
              source

              Smogon is a competitive Pokémon community dedicated to analyzing and ranking Pokémon and their competitive viability. The pasta first appeared as a comment in the r/Stunfisk sub in 2025.

              Smogon has brainrotted me. When I was having a conversation with my friend, they happened to mention how they were trying to make a good first impression for their application. First. Impression. No way! Endorphins were rushing to my brain as I began to shake with giddiness. Obviously, they made a reference to Lokix! I couldn't contain it! "252+ Atk Choice Band Lokix Tera Bug Lokix First Impression!" I screamed louder than a Choice Specs Exploud using Boomburst. My friend looked at me with a shocked expression on their face and asked if anyone was being Toxic to me recently. Absolutely disgusting! That was clearly a reference to Regenerator Toxapex or Poison Heal Gliscor or Pecharunt spamming the move Toxic! This chicanery could not continue! Glaring like a Serperior, I yelled "DEATH TO BIG STALL!" so loudly that everyone in the library started to use moves like "Mean Look" and "Pursuit". My friend seemed to U-turn out of there like a Leftovers Scizor would, which was rather unusual as I was clearly wearing a Rocky Helmet (I had dumped a tub of Rocky Road Ice Cream on my head, because it seemed to make people not want to make contact with me).

A week later, my friend told me how they were getting addicted to gay porn and were wondering if I could lend a Helping Hand to stop their addiction. Now, their Body Slam, even with STAB and Helping Hand, couldn't one-shot the prehistoric Entei, so I instead dumped a salt shaker over their head. That way, the Purifying Salt would prevent them from being statused if Gay Porn used Burning Bulwark. Immediately, my friend started Koffing and Weezing, and while Koffing out the salt, said they couldn't believe I was homophobic and felt like I "sucker punched" and betrayed them. Wait. Did I really look like Ferrothorn? That couldn't be! Ferrothorn can't even learn Sucker Punch! At the moment, I was wearing my Dusknoir costume (I like to wear it in public because my Pressure ability makes people switch out when they see me), so I grabbed some ice out of the freezer and Ice Punched them, because their Berserk was kicking in (they must have been a Moltres-Galar in a trench coat). They then tried to Emergency Exit and call the police, which promptly arrived on the scene, wearing Covert Cloaks and Safety Goggles. Obviously, that was illegal! One Pokemon can't hold two items! I yelled "Zekrom Kick!" and launched myself at the police, but they outsped and used a Steel-type version of Bullet Seed on me! That was so illegal! They were clearly using theorymon moves!

Luckily, despite my frail bulk, I was holding a Focus Sash under my belt, and was able to tank the hit! For some reason, though, I could see my body on the ground and float around, and the police were murmuring that they had "killed them." Had I terastallized into a Ghost type without knowing? I Levitated off to the nearby VGC tournament, where I am currently typing this. If anyone knows how to change my Tera Type, let me know!