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.
Elon Musk saw this in one of the slack channels
https://i.kym-cdn.com/entries/icons/original/000/031/634/guy-fired-over-meme-job-work-post-facebook-cody-hidalgo-fb.png
And he replied to it with a giant wall of text basically saying that he's 44 billion dollars in debt, made a bunch of sacrifices, and the employees are the ones making money.
But that's not all.
Elon Musk now has been going into bathrooms now and if he see's someone sitting in on the stalls, he pops his head over to talk to them about their projects in order to make sure they aren't pooping longer than necessary and stealing company time.
The meme seems to really gotten under his skin.
after Elon started doing it he bragged to mark zuckerburg about it, but then mark sent him this meme
https://i.imgflip.com/77us2q.jpg
context
In the early days of facebook Mark Zuckerburg would wander into the company bathrooms and if he noticed someone sitting down in the stalls he would pop his head over and try to talk to them about their projects. Or if he was taking a poop he would host an emergency meeting and he would tell them to come over and pop their head over the stall to talk it out.
Everyone just went along with it because it was either YOLO SILICON VALLEY LMAO or they were just too intimidated.
That all stopped when Michael Moritz, legendary silicon valley investor, and one of Facebook biggest early investors and shareholders, was at the campus doing research for leading a 2nd round of funding. He was doing diligence all day and at one point had to poop and that's when Zuckerburg popped his head over with a smile to ask how's the diligence coming along.
Michael Moritz, not one to mince words, was apoplectic. 'GET THE FUCK OUT HERE YOU IDiiOT LIZARD LOOKING FUCKER.' Mark Zuckerburg nervously tried to laugh it off and persisted, because he really loved intimate poop conversations 'Aw c'mon Michael, it's silicon valley'. Zuckerburg then withdrew after Moritz flung his cellphone into his eye socket.
30 minutes later, Mark was in a very import meeting (where he banned questions about his black eye) when Moritz walked into the conference room. 'Everyone except Mark Zuckerburg, OUT'. As intimidated as they were of Zuckerburg, at the time Moritz was the bigger deal, and they all scurried out of the room.
Zuckerburg, however, is not one to be intimated by anyone. Not the Winkewoz twins, not Eduardo Savarn, not Peter Thiel, and not one of his biggest shareholder Michael Moritz. Zuckerburg passionately defended his practice, but Michael Moritz was having none of that. Moritz told him that it was a ticking PR and HR nightmare, and threatened to pull out of leading the 2nd round of funding if Mark continued, which would have been a catastrophe for the company.
Zuckerburg pretended to arbitrate 'Ok fine, but you need to give me a good reason, because if it were normal, there would be no problem'.
Moritz was flabberghasted at this response. Was this a serious question? He answered with the most obvious answer 'Because.... it's not FUCKING NORMAL'.
Unknown to Moritz, Zuckerburg had guessed a conversation like this would happen as soon as he was kicked out of the toilet stall, and began formulating a strategy to counter Moritz demands. Zuckerburg knew that Moritz would have all the leverage, but Zuckerburg was a master strategist.
Zuckerburg went for the pounce. 'Okay, I'll lets write out an agreement, in writing I'll rescind the policy because it's not normal'. Moritz was dumbfounded, but he was used to being dumbfounded by eccentric tech founders, afterall he was also an early investor in Apple, and he still found Zuckerburg tame compared to Steve Jobs. Moritz had a long day of work so they signed the agreement so that he could go back to doing his due diligence.
When Moritz left, a broad grin spread across Zuckerburg's face. " 'Not Normal' eh? " Zuckerburg said with a menacing laugh. Ever since then, Mark Zuckerburg has been on a life-long crusade to normalize poop conversations.
He had a checklist of what he needed to accomplish in order to realize this. His advisors would tell him it's impossible, but one by one Zuckerburg checked off the list. From normalizing smart phone use on the toilet (actually a collaboration between Mark Zuckerburg and Steve Jobs), to trusting Mark with their private photos, to normalizing people giving up their internet browsing privacy.
In 2015, Zuckerburg knew he would hit a wall, having people watch you while you poop was still too much of a leap. That's when Zuckerburg decided to buy Occulus, and eventually shift his company towards virtual reality. If he could coax people into having life-like conversations while they were pooping in a virtual reality, then doing it in the real world wouldn't be too big of a leap.
Do you read facebook or instagram while you're pooping? Ever consider what urges you to do that? It's not your personal preference, it's by Mark Zuckerburg's design.
Zuckerburg only has 3 more boxes to check off before poop conversations are normalized.
Mark Zuckerburg wants to watch you poop.
Are you going to let him?
https://i.imgur.com/KVq4mMF.jpg
EDIT, UPDATE
I just got this in my DM.
I am a ex Facebook worker. Everything you said rings true. I speak to you at the risk of consequences for breaking my NDA. When I was at Facebook I was involved in a program called Project PooPal. Mark Zuckerburg was planning on Meta entering the exploding tele-therapy space, but targeting people who are not ready to talk to an actual person. You talk to a virtual reality therapist who responds with what is described as the greatest AI (though whatever you tell it, it only responds with 'wow, tell me more'). The thing is, the virtual reality assistant has a striking resemblance to Mark Zuckerburg himself. But the most damning aspect is that it's supposed to used only when you're pooping. This feature is described as optional, though uses the most advanced AI for your phone camera to check if you're actually on a toilet, and if not, says 'It looks like you're not pooping. Please start pooping and try again'. I always wondered what is the purpose and origin of the project. Now I know.
All these fucking cows around, as you do get at the cattle fairs. And then this one cow got this trapped wind, like--there's a technical name for it, but I don't know what the fuck it is. Anyways, this cow starts expanding like a mad thing, starts really ballooning up, and that's really dangerous, because they can die like that. And nobody knew what to do, til this short, tiny fella popped up. He was just passing by, like. And he takes out a fucking screwdriver and jumps into the pen, and everybody's going, "Oh fuck, no," like. And the short fella starts stabbing big fucking holes in the side of this cow, like. And we all thought he was mental, going stabbing a cow, like. But then the cow started deflating back to normal, because that's what you're supposed to do with a cow with trapped wind--stab the fucker. So everybody gave this short fella a round of applause, for being so on the ball, like. But then he starts giving us his whole life story about what an expert he is on fucking cows. And he says this gas that's coming out of the cow, it's the exact same gas as the gas in your oven back home. And everybody said, "Fuck off, is it the same." But the short fella said, "It is! Watch." And he lights the fucking gas, like! So there's this stream of fucking fire shooting out of this cow! And we were so impressed, like, and we gave him another round of applause. But the gas must have backed up inside or something, because the cow fucking exploded.
Best day of me fucking life, that cow exploding.
Last Tuesday, at about 9:30PM, I got a phone call from the local PD. My son was one of four teenage boys in a vehicle that was pulled over for suspiciously obeying all traffic laws. The police did a routine search of the vehicle, and while they did not find any drugs, alcohol, or weapons, they did find a paper grocery bag containing a Purator and over a dozen paladin minions. My son admitted that it was all his. They made him stomp on the cards and fling them off into the woods, gave him a warning, and called me.
While I am grateful that they didn't cite him for braindead gameplay in a school zone, which they easily could have, I have to admit that I feel like I am responsible for this in some way. As a father, one likes to imagine that his kids are somehow better than those other kids that you hear about messing with mana cheating and crap, but that is not always the case. There were warning signs with my son, and not only did I miss them, I dismissed them.
In all honesty, he has probably been netdecking since he was 12. I remember one time I lent him my credit card for the all-night pack opening he was participating in at his dirty friend's fireside gathering over in the shantytown across the railroad tracks, and they were all playing pirate warrior.
"But Dad! It's free wins! There's no other way to win!"
How could I say no? He would be ridiculed and that damage to his ego just was not worth it to me at the time. I let him stay.
Fast-forward a couple of years, and I catch him sneaking a pair of Disco Mauls into the house. When I confronted him about it, he was ready with his excuses: "It's for mech paladin, I promise." "You really need them for the burst damage." "Lots of people play pally”, etc.
I let it go.
But then other things started happening: his grades started falling, his vocabulary shrank, he started wearing a silver hand and calling 1/1 minions "dude," he lost interest in girls and hygiene. He stopped watching MarkMcKz, started the World of Warcraft free trial to get the level 20 Liadrin skin, and I swear to God that I once heard the voice of The Countess coming from his room. One of his friends even told me that he told a joke about "The Cooking of Stratholme" at school.
I ignored all of this, but I justified it at the time because Reddit is killing Third-Party Applications (And Itself). I had to keep up with the John Oliver pictures.
One night, however, I caught him red-handed. I walked into his room and saw that he was playing Mech Paladin, but something was off. He was holding a Sanguine Soldier and a Sinful Sous Chef, it was blindingly bad. I reprimanded him.
"Did I raise a moron? You'll mess up your radar detector draws, let me fix it."
He just grumbled. I walked over to do it for him, and he attacked me. He hit me in the jaw, and then started pounding me in the face when I was on the ground. I managed to subdue him with some secret ninja moves I learned in my special forces days and found, to my horror, that he was not even playing Mech Pally; he was playing Pure! I zip-tied him to his bed and ransacked his room looking for his account password. He laughed maniacally, and said I would never guess it. I looked him dead in the eyes and said: "You have brought dishonor on our family. You will not move from this spot until you tell me what it is." He stared back and did not say a word. I punched him in his stupid face and ransacked the house looking for it. I found it hours later scribbled on the inside of a notebook with pictures of the Horn of the Windlord plastered all over it. I dusted his Paladin collection right there, went up to my son's room brandishing the empty card manager, and said, "Never again." I left him tied up there for three days to prove my point.
Six months passed without further incident. He straightened up, quit checking HSReplay, all that shit. I thought I had done my job, but no. I just gave him more of an incentive to hide his habits.
Then this happened, and the proof is incontrovertible: my son is a racist. And now I am at this crossroads: is my son a racist despite me, or because of me? Did I give him my credit card too early? Was that diamond "Rin, Orchestrator of Doom" on his 6th birthday really for him, or for me? Am I to blame for all of this?
No. It's all his fault. All hail control warrior, my son can die in a ditch.
It happened in science class. The cheerleaders had just gotten back from practice and I was sitting directly behind the girl I had a crush on. Her bag was placed behind her and I saw where the bag wasn't fully zipped up and a pair of her panties were sprouting out the side. When I'm horny I barely think straight.. the lights were off and we were watching a science documentary on the projector so I thought I'd be able to get them without anyone seeing, I took them out slowly and kept an eye out. I thought I was successful.. I did many ungodly things with those panties.
By 3rd period at school the next day, all of the guys were calling me "panty boy" and I of course already knew what that was about.. the nickname stuck for the rest of the year and I'm still called it occasionally, mostly by friends. Me and that girl were kind of friends before and I was trying to build up the courage to ask her out prior, but I knew that was no longer possible. She never said anything about it, but she avoided me at all costs.. a lot of the guys would tease her for what I did, there were times I thought that I should stand up for her, but I was too much of a coward and didn't want to look "uncool" besides, how could the guy that did the pervy act be the good guy in the situation? So I just left it alone. What had happened was very humiliating for me, but I'm sure that what I felt was only half of what she must have felt..
I'm going to be a junior this year and I still can't stop thinking about it.. I feel disgusting for being such a little perv. I'm really contemplating reaching out to her and apologizing. Is that a good idea? or should I just leave it in the past?
So the other day, me and my homie were out and about, just vibin' and chattin', when I suddenly got hit with a stroke of genius. I was like, "Bro, I dare you to moan like a loli in these public bathrooms for 20 dollars." (NO HOMO)
Now, my friend was like, "Bruh, what kinda wild shit are you on? You think I'm a bitch, huh? Ain't nobody tryna hear me hollerin' like an anime girl in here." But I was like, "Nah, you ain't a bitch but you're close enough."
So we head into the bathrooms, and I start spinnin' this elaborate tale about "hentai basics"
My friend was skeptical at first, but I kept ratcheting up the tension and adding all these extra details about how lolis were known as sluts for saying uwu and those kinds of shit...
Next thing you know, my boy is sweating bullets, eyes wide as saucers, and I can tell he's about to lose it.
I hit him with the classic, "what's wrong, are you scared? You ain't gotta do it if you don't want to," but he wasn't backing down.
He takes a deep breath, looks himself dead in the mirror of the boys' bathroom and lets out the most ear-piercing, high pitched moans you could ever imagine.
People start banging on the doors, laughing while others are shouting... security's called, chaos is everywhere.
And me? I'm just standing outside the bathroom door, laughing my ass off and filming the whole thing for my cringe collection.
My friend comes stumbling out a few minutes later, looking like he just survived a near-death experience, and I'm like, "Bro, you just made my day. That shit was hilarious, take your 20 dollars."
Needless to say, we got the fuck outta there real quick before anyone could figure out what the heck was going on.
But man, I'll never forget the look on my friend's face when he let out those loli moans. It's such a classic.
Literalmente todos os velhos, velhas, crianças, e adolescentes vagabundos na calçada tavam olhando pra mim de boca aberta como se eu tivesse acabado de matar um muleque. Não tou exagerando nem nada quando digo que teve umas 100 pessoas que estavam parando o que tavam fazendo só pra ficarem olhando pra mim. Os olhos julgamentais desse povinho me deu uma sensação de mal estar.
Não é Porto Alegre a cidade sem conservadorismo, e sem vergonha? Não é Porto Alegre supostamente uma metrópole? Esse é o melhor que nós brasileiros podemos fazer?
É merda desse tipo que me faz querer fugir desse sul e ir para algum canto tipo Rio de Janeiro ou Recife. Fale o que quiser desses locais, mas certeza que me sentiria mais em casa do que essa bosta de canto
Minha namorada começou a chorar quando cheguei em casa. Os filhos dela tão tudo horrorizadas. Minha vó acabou de ter um ataque fulminante, e até agora quem me aceita de verdade é a vizinha do condominio que visito a cama dela todo dia
O Rio Grande do Sul não é um local seguro para homens calvos de meia-idade que querem se sentir livres ao caminhar. Por que o povo não aceita a gente usar sutiã esportivo e shortinho?
