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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.


How Do I tell my girlfriend I’m not cheating, I’m just hopelessly addicted to PokeRogue

    Source
    Me and My girlfriend had a heated argument last night after she confronted me about what she considered “fishy behavior” and suspects I’m cheating, which has upset me because I pride myself on not being a cheater, in both relationships and Nuzlockes.

It started when she noticed I put her on do not disturb late one night when I told her I was asleep, but really I was fighting E-max Eternatus and really had to dial in since I didn’t have any fairy types on my team (rookie mistake I know)

Then She noticed I was on Snapchat at 4 A.M. one night after I told her I was asleep and figured I was snapping another girl, but really I was showing my buddy Bobby Pickles that I finally got Max IVs on my Beedrill.

Then the other day when I was leaving her house she saw me check my phone and smile immediately after getting in my car and again assumed adultery but really the gacha had just changed and I went to check and was smiling cause Zacian was on the legendary gacha and Zacian is dope.

It all culminated yesterday when I wouldn’t let her see what I was doing on my phone cause I was playing PR, and she flipped out on me.

I haven’t told her cause she doesn’t like when I play Pokemon ever since she was watching me play infinite fusion and noticed I had nicknamed my lopunny/gardevior fusion after my ex. (I’m not still into my ex or anything cause she’s pretty gross, but when we were dating I named my Lopunny after her in a platinum Cagelocke and the mon ended up clutching up against Flints infernape, so I still do it every run for good luck). I explained this to my girlfriend at the time but she didn’t care, and when I fused the lopunny with a snorlax and showed her to make her feel better she just got more angry and made me switch to Tem Tem for a year.

I’m really hurt and torn over this and I don’t know how to fix things. I obviously don’t want to lose my girlfriend but I don’t want to tell her truth because I’m afraid she will make me switch to Tem Tem again and Tem Tem is the actual worst.

If anyone has had a similar problem I would really appreciate some advice as I’m really messed up about this and I don’t think I’ll be able to get my endless run off the ground with all this terrible stress going on in my life.

    100% true story. I met Anish in St. Louis.

      Started by u/wildcard174, its a wholesome story on Anish Giri a professional chess player which became a copypasta and later to other shitpost versions.

      Original story

      100% true story. I met Anish in St. Louis. I was walking and carrying my 1-year-old daughter in the Central West End, just down the street from the St. Louis Chess Club/Hall of Fame, and he walked by. I didn't say anything, I didn't want to bother him.

A moment later I noticed one of my daughter's pink shoes had come off. I turned around and Anish Giri was twenty feet away, bent over, picking up the shoe. He handed it to me and said, "Here you go!" And I said, "Thanks!" And that was it, lol. Nice guy.

      Shitpost version

      100% true story. I met Anish in St. Louis. I was walking and carrying my 1-year-old daughter in the Central West End, just down the street from the St. Louis Chess Club/Hall of Fame, and he walked by. I said how cool it was to meet him in person, but I didn’t want to bother him or anything. He said, "Oh, like you're doing right now?" I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but he kept cutting me off and going “huh? huh? huh?” and closing his hand shut in front of my face. I could feel my face going red from being embarrassed by the Snarkmaster himself, and looked down at the ground in shame.

That's when I noticed one of my daughter's pink shoes had come off and was lying on the ground. I'm not sure if it fell off on its own, or if Anish ripped it off while I was distracted. I reached down to pick it up and put it back on. Suddenly, Anish's hand rapidly shot forward from outside my field of vision to grab it before me, with the well-practiced swiftness I assume could only come from taking the handshake as quickly as possible whenever an opponent offers a draw. "Finders keepers," he taunted, wearing his trademark smug boyish grin. "What do you even want that for??" I demanded. "Alireza isn't the only one who knows about fashion, honey," Giri said as he tore off one of his Crocs shoes. He made a show of attempting to put the tiny pink baby shoe on his foot, but it obviously didn't fit. Shrugging, he ran off with one bare foot, one shoed foot, and two mismatched shoes in hand, leaving me dumbstruck in the sunny St. Louis street.
      100% true story. I went to Papa John's with Anish "1/2-1/2" Giri. He refused to wait for the waiter to take our order and asked to speak with the manager, where, upon their arrival, he promptly ordered three large pizzas and said, "If you don't bake these yourself I will personally roast your fine establishment with several snide tweets." In just 10 minutes, his pizzas arrived. He turned to me and said, "this is why I'm the Twitter GOAT," before rolling each one into a long tube. He then held each pizza-tube up like a funnel, and squeezed the cheese and sauce into his mouth.

Once he sucked out all the drippings, he unrolled the desiccated pizza bread-tube onto my plate and confidently announced, patting his tummy, "This one's on me, kid." He strutted past the counter, refusing to pay for the pizza because "Hans Niemann said GMs shouldn't have to pay."

      They are hiding cheese types from us.

        Source
        I was at a Mexican restaurant and the waiter put a cheese dip with some chips on the table next to us that a family was sitting at. I asked the waiter "What type of dip is that?" and he responded "Not your cheese." Like I knew this wasn't my cheese but I still wanted to know what kind of dip it is so I responded " I know that, but I still want to know what it's called. What's the name of this dip?" He looked me dead in the eyes and told me "Not your cheese." I didn't think he got the question. So I asked he again sternly. "I KNOW that, but what is this cheese called?!" His face turned to confusion and he broke eye contact with me. He then responded harshly "Not your cheese!" I grabbed him him by the collar "WHAT TYPE OF CHEESE IS THAT!!!" A waitress across the room responded to me "Queso!".

Be safe out there guys. They are hiding the truth from us.

        I saw Aaron Paul at an unemployment office in Los Angeles

          Started from a comment on Reddit parodying the “Flying Lotus at a grocery store in LA” story but changed to fit the Xbox One: Aaron Paul ad.

          I saw Aaron Paul at an unemployment office in Los Angeles yesterday. I noticed him but didn’t want to bother him. He obviously saw me because he came up to me. He said, “Please let me give you an autograph, yo, bitch. Please respond.” I was taken aback, and all I could say was “Huh?” but he kept cutting me off and going “Please respond. Please respond. Xbox, please respond. Bitch.” and closing his hand shut in front of my face. I walked away and continued with my day, and I heard him crying as I walked off. When I came to apply up front I saw him trying to walk out the doors with like fifteen job applications in his hands without paying. The girl at the counter was very nice about it and professional, and was like “Sir, you need to pay for those first.” At first he kept pretending to be busy and read scripts, but eventually turned back around and brought them to the counter. When she took one of the forms and started scanning it multiple times, he stopped her and told her to scan them each individually because “I just wish I had more time to play,” and then turned around and cried at me. I don’t even think that’s a career. After she scanned each form and put them in a bag and started to say the price, he kept interrupting her by saying “Xbox turn on” really loudly.

          I, a real life Human Boy, wore a golden Christian Cross

            I, a real life Human Boy, wore a golden Christian Cross pendant to American Public School and was forced to wear crown of thorns and whipped through the American Public School hallways while teachers chanted Satanism prayers at me and students throwed human feces at me. Then the American Public School Administrator throwed me into public street gutter and said I was suspended for 6 days 6 hours 6 minutes for spreading lies of White Christ. I spoke to 7 other Straight White Male Christian students in Church who had same punishment for wearing golden Christian Cross to American Public Schools! We are being murdered by Satanists!

            Catboy Baseball

              Catboys copypasta 
              "Yo, are these catboys straight?" I mutter to my buddy while uncomfortably adjusting my position on the bench.

"No, of course not." my buddy, Josh, responds with out looking at me, a confused sneer frozen on his face as he watches the baseball team full of catboys roll around on the grass and pounce on each other before bumbling the ball back to the skinny, scared pitcher. He hisses as he picks up the ball as if it's the first time he's had to throw one even though this game has been going on for 3 hours already.

"I don't know." I squirm, "I mean, I... well. I mean I think they could... they could be straight, ya know?"

"Definitely not, man. They're pouncing on each other and hugging each other and licking each other. These dudes are super gay." Josh throws his head back and looks up to the darkening sky. "I was supposed to leave 20 minutes ago."

He has some obligation with his girlfriend no doubt. "Well, ya know. Cats are gay. So maybe you're confusing these catboys with real cats when in fact they're only catboys."

"Nope."

Our batter who's up at the plate backs off and sighs heavily. He slings his bat over his shoulder and calls over to us. "Guys. We just gotta call it. We gotta forfeit."

The pitcher's mound turns into a catboy pile as all the catboys do that thing where cats arch their backs and rub against each other. Some how from this writhing purr pile, the ball launches towards our unprepared batter for another strike, his third. In resigned disbelief, he trudges back to the dugout and sits down on the bench.

"I can't believe it." the out-batter says.

Josh on the bench throws his hat to the ground. "We can't quit, dammit! We can't lose to these fucking catboys!" There's a quaver in his frustrated voice. I think he doesn't understand why exactly he's so upset to be losing to the catboys. Neither do I. I can't understand my feelings towards the catboys either.

Head in his hands, shaking his head, he continues, "These fucking catboys..."

I clear my throat to get his attention and then grab his shoulder. "Yeah, these fucking catboys. Look. The catboys are fucking."

At the pitcher's mound, the purr pile has turned into a fuck pile. The catboys have stripped themselves of their little baseball uniforms and all their lithe, pallid bodies are writhing and grinding together. The meows and hisses and screeches are almost unbearable. Almost...

One of our teammates stands up and walks right on past, present, and future by us, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Jesse? No, man. Don't do it. If they fuck long enough, that's gotta be a forfeit. We can still win this thing."

"S-sorry..." Jesse says. He makes a sound like he was going to say something else, like he was about to justify what he's about to do, but no. He simply strips naked and hops in the cat pile to a chorus of cheerful meows. They welcome him greedily.

I'm drenched in sweat, heart pounding. I feel like I have a fluffy tail curled up in my getting-tighter-by-the-moment pants.

"Josh, I uhh..." I don't want to let him down. I don't want to let the team down, but... It's a fur fuck pile.

Josh sighs, "Just fucking go fuck with the catboys... I'll be there in a minute... I just gotta call my girlfriend and tell her I'll be late..." he says while untying his cleats.

I'm relieved and ashamed, but excited as I hurriedly wrench loose my sweaty uniform. As I stumble in a lustful stupor, practicing my own meow, I hear Josh muttering to himself.

"These fucking catboys got us again."
              the catboys i signed for my all-catboy baseball team dont know what baseball is and theyre actively loudly sobbing whenever they miss a swing and whenever they dive to catch a ball it bonks them on the head and they go "uweh" and our pitcher closes his eyes whenever he throws because hes scared and we're beating every other team in the league