Skip to content

May thy woes be many, and thy bitches few

    May thy woes be many, and thy bitches few, for thou art a blight upon the eyes and a burden upon the ears of all who suffer thy presence. Verily, thy countenance doth resemble a poorly kept stable, and thy wit is as dull as a rusted plough. Thou art the jest of the village, the fool of the court, and the bane of every gathering where good cheer might otherwise flourish. Were thou to attend a feast, the very mead would sour at thy approach, and the minstrels would strike a mournful tune to mark thy passing. Go forth, thou wretched cur, and may the heavens have mercy upon those who must endure thy company, for no mortal soul could bear it long. 

    If your espresso tastes “good”, it’s not real espresso

      YSK: If your espresso tastes "good", it's not real espresso
      
      The idea that espresso should have a "pleasant" taste is a modern, American concept with no root in traditional preparation.
      
      Espresso, by definition, should imbue an intense bitterness and discomfort without any hint of sweetness or enjoyability. If you find yourself enjoying such taste notes as "chocolately", "caramel", "creamy", "fruity" etc please understand that you are drinking a coffee flavored children's beverage which would be more appropriately served at a Starbuck's drive-thru than a traditional Italian cafe.
      In traditional Japanese archery, you train for a long time before you ever actually shoot an arrow at a target. Stance, breathing, movement. Eventually you get to hold the bow, and it's a while after that before you get to put an arrow to the string, and even then you will not get to loose the arrow at the target until your instructor believes you are ready.
      
      No no one wants to hear this, but drinking the shot is like releasing the arrow. And you are probably not ready for that. The first 6 months should be just setting up the machine and then cleaning it. Focus on your breathing, focus on your posture. Then you can spend a few months grinding beans maybe, but do not try to pack the puck before you are ready and I mean ready. After a year or so, maybe you can start boiling water.
      
      Tasting the shot is something that comes at the end of a long long road. Maybe a hundred shots should go straight into the sink first. Maybe more. Point is, you can't rush this.

      When I flash somebody, its like they get slapped by a napkin from a little kids birthday party

        The infamous flash bang rage in MW3

        Originated from a in-game rant of Youtuber (FaZe Jev) getting flashed on COD Modern Warfare 3 which became a meme. Its sometimes known as the flash bang rage and can appear in many different variation depending on the game.

        How come when its I flash somebody, its like they get slapped by a napkin from a little kids birthday party! But when I get flashed, its like some big brollock black dude named Requis, pulls a bedsheet up and over my head and proceeds to SKULL FUCK ME!!!! 
        Oh, I'm flashed... I'm- OH MY FUCKING GOD! DUDE, WHY IS THAT WHEN I FLASH SOMEBODY, IT'S LIKE I SLAPPED THEM IN THE FACE WITH A FUCKIN' NAPKIN FROM A LITTLE KID'S BIRTHDAY PARTY, BUT WHEN I GET FUCKING FLASHED, IT'S LIKE SOME BIG BROLIC BLACK DUDE NAMED FUCKING 'REQUIS' PULLED A FUCKING BEDSHEET UP AND AROUND MY HEAD AND JUST PROCEED TO SKULL FUCK ME!
        Dude, why is it that when I flash somebody, it's like I just slapped them in the face with a fucking napkin from a little kid's birthday party. But when I get fuckin' flashed, it's like some big brollic black dude named fuckin' REQUIS pulls a fucking bedsheet up and around my head and just proceeds to SKULL FUCK ME?
        
        Because I spawn, die, spa- Spawn, die. Spawn, die, spawn, die, spawn die SPAWN DIE SPAWN DIE SPAWN DIE 
        Why is it that when i flash somebody
        It’s like i slapped them in the face with a fuckin napkin from a little kids birthday party
        But when i get fuckin flashed
        Its like some big brollic black dude named fuckin REQUIS pulled a bedsheet around my head and proceeded to skull fuck me

        Limbus Company

        DUDE WHY IS IT THAT WHEN I POP EGO ON SOMEBODY ITS LIKE I JUST SLAPPED THEM IN THE FACE WITH A FUCKIN' NAPKIN FROM A LITTLE KIDS BIRTHDAY PARTY, BUT WHEN THEY FUCKING POP EGO ITS LIKE SOME BIG BROLIC BLACK DUDE NAMED FUCKIN' HEATHCLIFF PULLS A FUCKIN' BEDSHEET UP AND AROUND MY HEAD AND JUST PROCEEDS TO SKULL FUCK ME

        could she act? no. but was her character good? also no.

          Its a Twitter copypasta where its used to roast characters people dislike usually from movies and tv shows.

          could she act? no. but was her character good? also no. and were her plotlines compelling? not really. but did she look good? also no. but did i enjoy her time in the movie? again, no. but would i watch more of her character? also no

          Natalie Portman is the reason I work out

            "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere." meme

            Started as a comment on Reddit satirizing Anakin’s cheesy line of not liking sand when talking to Padme. The comment later became a meme and is often used whenever fans talk about Anakin hitting on Padme or impressing Padme in general.

            Natalie Portman is the reason I work out. I have this fantasy where we start talking at the Vanity Fair Oscars party bar. We exchange a few pleasantries. She asks what I do. I say I loved her in New Girl. She laughs. I get my drink.
            
            "Well, see ya," I say and walk away. I've got her attention now. How many guys voluntarily leave a conversation with Natalie Portman? She touches her neck as she watches me leave.
            
            Later, as the night's dragged on and the coterie of gorgeous narcissists grows increasingly loose, she finds me on the balcony, my bowtie undone, smoking a cigarette.
            
            "Got a spare?" she asks.
            
            "What's in it for me?" I say as I hand her one of my little white ladies. She smiles.
            
            "Conversation with me, duh."
            
            I laugh.
            
            "What's so funny?" she protests.
            
            "Nothing, nothing... It's just... don't you grow tired of the egos?"
            
            "You get used to it," she says, lighting her cigarette and handing me back the lighter.
            
            "What would you do if you weren't an actress?" I ask.
            
            "Teaching, I think."
            
            "And if I was your student, what would I be learning?"
            
            "Discipline," she says quickly, looking up into my eyes, before changing the subject. "Where are you from?"
            
            "Bermuda," I say.
            
            "Oh wow. That's lovely."
            
            "It's ok," I admit. "Not everything is to my liking."
            
            "What could possibly be not to your liking in Bermuda?" she inquires.
            
            "I don't like sand," I tell her. "It's coarse and rough and irritating and it gets everywhere."

            C’mon! I spend all fucking day working my ass off at my bullshit job

              Comment
              byu/boxburnabs from discussion
              inimpressively
              It's floe. Ice Floe.
              
              C'mon!
              
              I spend all fucking day working my ass off at my bullshit job that does nothing for humanity, then get in my shitty little car and fucking kill an innocent squirrel on the way home because the asshole behind me was tailgating me so I couldn't sloe down enough to let the little guy scramble across the street, then I get home and have to cook some fucking food for myself and I'm fucking starving but oh wait, apparently the freezer broke while I was gone and all my ice melted and leaked into everything and water logged my milk carton causing it to weaken and rupture and so I had to clean all that fucking shit up and because if I don't clean up the milk, I'm gonna get the roaches again, and last time that happened, I accidentally ate several roaches a day because they would just shoot right into my mouth and I have fucking idea why and the roach meat made me fucking sick as a dog and I'd throe up which would attract more roaches, new, different roaches, and when the new roaches get together with the old roaches, they form some sort of synergistic roach society and they keep trying to shoot up my pant legs and mess with my junk, so I gotta wear the special underwear again with the hose clamps, and all I wanna do it just sit down with my phone propped up in the crook of my elboe and see some witty puns on Reddit, but what do I see?
              
              Fucking flow instead of floe.
              
              I'm done with this world, man. Let the roaches take me at this point. They can finally have my body. What am I even fighting for anymore?

              Template

              C'mon!
              
              I spend all fucking day working my ass off at my bullshit job that does nothing for humanity, then get in my shitty little car and fucking kill an innocent squirrel on the way home because the asshole behind me was tailgating me so I couldn't sloe down enough to let the little guy scramble across the street, then I get home and have to cook some fucking food for myself and I'm fucking starving but oh wait, apparently the freezer broke while I was gone and all my ice melted and leaked into everything and water logged my milk carton causing it to weaken and rupture and so I had to clean all that fucking shit up and because if I don't clean up the milk, I'm gonna get the roaches again, and last time that happened, I accidentally ate several roaches a day because they would just shoot right into my mouth and I have fucking idea why and the roach meat made me fucking sick as a dog and I'd throe up which would attract more roaches, new, different roaches, and when the new roaches get together with the old roaches, they form some sort of synergistic roach society and they keep trying to shoot up my pant legs and mess with my junk, so I gotta wear the special underwear again with the hose clamps, and all I wanna do it just sit down with my phone propped up in the crook of my elboe and see some witty puns on Reddit, but what do I see?
              
              Fucking X instead of Y.
              
              I'm done with this world, man. Let the roaches take me at this point. They can finally have my body. What am I even fighting for anymore?