Copypasta Bot
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
AITA for calling a woman pulchritudinous?
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My vocabulary is quite frankly gargantuan. I'm not pretentious. I don't try to use big words to look educated. It just happens.
The problem is that the only thing bigger than my vocabulary is my appetite for the fairer sex. I regularly compliment women when I pass them on the street but I of course always do so in a polite, courteous and sensual manner. They almost always respond positively.
Yesterday I was walking with a colleague of mine when I passed a woman who rivaled Aphrodite. It pained me that the rest of her undoubtedly luscious lips and assuredly earth-shattering smile were obscured by a mask. She walked by and I couldn't help but mutter "Simply pulchritudinous."
She turned around as red as Mars (in both senses) and told me to fuck off. I was shocked. I've never had a woman react like that about my word choice. Most are titillated, not ticked. My friend insisted that she just felt embarrassed because she didn't know the definition so she lashed out, and I'm inclined to agree with that.
But I'm still worried that it my vocabulary may be more off-putting than I initially thought. I don't want to ascribe the reaction of a single woman on the street too much consequence, that would be silly of me. But I am worried that because of my quick tongue I may indeed be the asshole in this situation. Am I?
The problem is that the only thing bigger than my vocabulary is my appetite for the fairer sex. I regularly compliment women when I pass them on the street but I of course always do so in a polite, courteous and sensual manner. They almost always respond positively.
Yesterday I was walking with a colleague of mine when I passed a woman who rivaled Aphrodite. It pained me that the rest of her undoubtedly luscious lips and assuredly earth-shattering smile were obscured by a mask. She walked by and I couldn't help but mutter "Simply pulchritudinous."
She turned around as red as Mars (in both senses) and told me to fuck off. I was shocked. I've never had a woman react like that about my word choice. Most are titillated, not ticked. My friend insisted that she just felt embarrassed because she didn't know the definition so she lashed out, and I'm inclined to agree with that.
But I'm still worried that it my vocabulary may be more off-putting than I initially thought. I don't want to ascribe the reaction of a single woman on the street too much consequence, that would be silly of me. But I am worried that because of my quick tongue I may indeed be the asshole in this situation. Am I?
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Club Penguin is kil
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I apologise for my incomplete understanding of the syntax and grammatical rules, and spelling of words, of the English language, as I speak a language that is, in fact, not English, which is most likely evidenced to you, the reader, who is most likely a Homo sapiens , as am I, by the fact that the English I wrote this sentence to you in was syntactically and grammatically incorrect and contained spelling errors, and probably assumed to be Russian as the structure of my sentence corresponds to the stereotypical faux bad Russian attempt at English known to those of our species who speak English.
What was your immediate and precise location when Club Penguin, an internet game designed for children but frequently played by teenagers, young adults and adults of our species for the purpose of taking images of the game in which the penguins these individuals of our species controlled were shown saying things that juxtaposed the context of the game, such as using expletives and/or (but not limited to) making sexist, homophobic and/or racist statements (whether or not those statements actually corresponded to the views of the individuals producing the images, or even those viewing them) sometimes with text overlaid, for the purpose of humour, also known as a meme, was discontinued?
I, personally, was at my place of residence, assumedly a house built with materials such as, and in no particular order, brick, mortar, plaster, copper, iron, glass, wood, plastic and concrete, consuming a processed corn based, savoury snack with a dry, crispy texture and coated with cheese-like flavouring as a fine powder, known as the 'Dorito', when my telecommunications device, in this case either a landline telephone, a hardwired device connected to an external network (usually running underground) for the propose of transferring my voice with minimal latency to places a distance from my home that would otherwise be too far for the recipient to hear, or a mobile telephone, which works on a similar principle to the home phone however uses electromagnetic waves anywhere from 600 to 6000 MHz, depending on one's country of residence and telecommunications service provider, to transmit one's voice, produced a sound, as it is designed to do, to alert me to the fact that there was a person using their own telecommunications device in an effort to contact me.
The individual, whose voice was transmitted to me through the telecommunications device the individual reading this text imagines the aforementioned individual to be speaking to me through (most likely determined by the reader's age, as there has been a close to linear decline in households with landline telephones since approximately 2003), spoke, assumedly in the same language that I was speaking, and said to me, "Club penguin is kil", which the reader is likely to assume was in my native language as it also contains poor grammar, syntax and spelling. This sentence informed me that the internet game known as Club Penguin had been discontinued.
This shocked me, as I enjoyed viewing the memes individuals of my species produced using the game known as Club Penguin. This is evidenced by my inability to say more than a single word in response to the news of the game's demise. Unable to fully articulate the intensity of my feelings or thoughts regarding the shocking news that was just communicated to me through the telecommunications device I was holding, I said a single word that reflected these inner processes and captured the essence of my disbelief that something so important to me had ended: "no".
What was your immediate and precise location when Club Penguin, an internet game designed for children but frequently played by teenagers, young adults and adults of our species for the purpose of taking images of the game in which the penguins these individuals of our species controlled were shown saying things that juxtaposed the context of the game, such as using expletives and/or (but not limited to) making sexist, homophobic and/or racist statements (whether or not those statements actually corresponded to the views of the individuals producing the images, or even those viewing them) sometimes with text overlaid, for the purpose of humour, also known as a meme, was discontinued?
I, personally, was at my place of residence, assumedly a house built with materials such as, and in no particular order, brick, mortar, plaster, copper, iron, glass, wood, plastic and concrete, consuming a processed corn based, savoury snack with a dry, crispy texture and coated with cheese-like flavouring as a fine powder, known as the 'Dorito', when my telecommunications device, in this case either a landline telephone, a hardwired device connected to an external network (usually running underground) for the propose of transferring my voice with minimal latency to places a distance from my home that would otherwise be too far for the recipient to hear, or a mobile telephone, which works on a similar principle to the home phone however uses electromagnetic waves anywhere from 600 to 6000 MHz, depending on one's country of residence and telecommunications service provider, to transmit one's voice, produced a sound, as it is designed to do, to alert me to the fact that there was a person using their own telecommunications device in an effort to contact me.
The individual, whose voice was transmitted to me through the telecommunications device the individual reading this text imagines the aforementioned individual to be speaking to me through (most likely determined by the reader's age, as there has been a close to linear decline in households with landline telephones since approximately 2003), spoke, assumedly in the same language that I was speaking, and said to me, "Club penguin is kil", which the reader is likely to assume was in my native language as it also contains poor grammar, syntax and spelling. This sentence informed me that the internet game known as Club Penguin had been discontinued.
This shocked me, as I enjoyed viewing the memes individuals of my species produced using the game known as Club Penguin. This is evidenced by my inability to say more than a single word in response to the news of the game's demise. Unable to fully articulate the intensity of my feelings or thoughts regarding the shocking news that was just communicated to me through the telecommunications device I was holding, I said a single word that reflected these inner processes and captured the essence of my disbelief that something so important to me had ended: "no".
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Saying that the Easter Bunny does not orgasm with every egg laid is considered blasphemy and grounds for excommunication from the Church.
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Weird fact: the Easter Bunny was the source of a significant amount of theological debate during the 1200's, as Catholic philosophers debated why God would create a creature in a constant state of labor (and thus suffering). The Catholic Church ultimately resolved this question by declaring that the Easter Bunny orgasmed every time it laid it an egg (which it was doing constantly). This is now codified in Canon Law (the legal code of the Catholic Church and much of Europe in the pre-modern era) and saying that the Easter Bunny does not orgasm with every egg laid is considered blasphemy and grounds for excommunication from the Church.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
My daughter and me (from r/suddenlysexoffender)
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My daughter is about 19 years old and I pretty much think that she know a lot more about sex than me. Once, when she was out on party she promised that she would return at 9pm but the time is 10 pm. So I decided to take a shower. As my husband was away for a business trip, I had sexual fantasies and I decided to pleasure myself a bit so I started masturbating. while I was in action my daughter returned home but I did not care about and continued with my dildo. I thought she could hear my moaning but she did and she took a footage of me without my knowledge. After I came out of the bathroom and into my bedroom I saw my daughter siting there. she showed my the video and I was loss for words. She told me hat she would show it to dad. I pleaded her not to and finally she agreed on one condition, to have LESBIAN SEX. I was completely shocked but I eventually agreed and we had a wild night and it was my first lesbian experiance
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
I believe i've started big leg trend of roblox...
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Alright so do you remember that big legs trend on roblox? Well let's just say i might've started it. I was in 3rd grade and I had a step sister. She'll let me use her account from time to time and I would let her use mine. One day, I want trick someone on roblox(i say trick because I never heard of trolling back then) as a oder(online dater). So when we when i went to adopt and raise a cute baby on roblox, my made my avatar as a girl, but since i wanted to look like I had a big ass, I didn't use the regular legs like you're handed to, but the default big legs. So I found a boy and he wanted to do the nasty with me after he had this dumbass date. So we went to one of those modern houses and he was talking his clothes off and he said,"why did you make your legs fat?" And I said," Because I have a fat butt." I could tell that he was pretty excited so when he got on the bed and told me to say down, I told him I was a boy. I could also tell that he was destroyed by this and after a mental breakdown and left. Repeat the same thing a few more times and when I go back to my regular account, I can only look in horror on what i have created. Meepcity is the woman body and default legs. Simulator and tycoons is just the woman body and default legs. THERE WAS A FUCKING MOVIE WITH THE GIRL NAMED JENNA WITH THE DEFAULT LEGS FOR GOT SAKE. Then when people still decide they don't want to stop using it, It was the moment that I knew. I fucked up.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
A comment from an "attack on titan" subreddit
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I've become so much like Eren Jaeger it's scary. I wear black cardigans, verbally assault women, and physically assault my friends. When I look in the mirror, I can't help but say "戦い, 戦い" (which means fight, fight in american.) I grew my hair out long because I don't care so now I have to wear it in a bun and I don't care what people think so shut fuck up Hange! I always leave an open wound on my hand, and go out of my way to show it to everyone so they are reminded that I am in control. When I see dogs being taken on walks I get mad at them for not being free like I am. I can't have sex with my girlfriend anymore without forcing her to dress up as Mikasa or Historia, both of whom remind me of Armin. When I order fast food, I refuse to call them french fries and insist on calling them freedom fries. I just keep moving forward, until my enemies are destroyed.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Greetings! I am the eSports director at "Mojang studios"
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Greetings! I am the eSports director at "Mojang studios" and I must say, your skill on Minecraft survival is truly unmatched! I believe that I can get you to the eSports pros, where much money is to be made! However, I will need a 1-time cash confirmation of your commitment to an eSporting career. This cash confirmation consists of: Buying discord Nitro for the eSports director of Mojang, and 5000 dollars sent to his PayPal! Thanks for your consideration, I look forward to BUILDING an eSports team, with you as it's star! 🤝
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Really Simpy DM Sent To A Girl (Found it on a meme but lost it)
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Would you ever have any interest in a cuckhold relationship? what it means is I would do all the normal bf stuff, buy you food, buy you things, be faithful to you, but the only difference is that you get to see whoever you want. so basically it would be a normal relationship except i'm faithful to you but you get to see other guys. it's more of a female led relationship.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
STOP SAYING CUM
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Stop saying the word cum so much are you fucking retarded? What's so funny about semen? AHAHAHAHA CUM COOM CAM CAM HAHAHA LOOK AT ME. SEXSEXSEXX AAAHHAAHAH!!!!!!SHUT THE FUCK UP MAKE IT STOP. Me (M18) and my gf (F19) were doing the good sexy sex when I decided to browse Reddit and then I see it: CUM!!!!!!! WHYYYYYYY??? WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS????? THATS SO FUCKING DISGUSTING AND IMMATURE AND MY GF LEFT ME AFTER SHE READ THAT! THATS SO FUNNY FOR YOU ISN'T IT???? ISNT IT WHAT YOU WANTED??? NOONE RUINS MY SEX SEXY SEX SEX WITH MY FEMALE COMPANION.
Sincerely, FUCK YOU
Sincerely, FUCK YOU
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Infinite cum
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You sit on the toilet to jack off, but you begin to cum uncontrollably. After ten spurts you start to worry. Your hand is sticky and it reeks of semen. You desperately shove your dick into a wad of toilet paper, but that only makes your balls hurt. The cum accelerates. It’s been three minutes. You can’t stop cumming. Your bathroom floor is covered in a thin layer of baby fluid. You try to cum into the shower drain but it builds up too fast. You try the toilet. The cum is too thick to be flushed. You lock the bathroom door to prevent the cum from escaping. The air grows hot and humid from the cum. The cum accelerates. You slip and fall in your own sperm. The cum is now six inches deep, almost as long as your still-erect semen hose. Sprawled on your back, you begin to cum all over the ceiling. Globs of the sticky white fluid begin to fall like raindrops, giving you a facial with your own cum. The cum accelerates. You struggle to stand as the force of the cum begins to propel you backwards as if you were on a bukkake themed slip-and-slide. Still on your knees, the cum is now at chin height. To avoid drowning you open the bathroom door. The deluge of man juice reminds you of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919, only with cum instead of molasses. The cum accelerates. It’s been two hours. Your children and wife scream in terror as their bodies are engulfed by the snow-white sludge. Your youngest child goes under, with viscous bubbles and muffled cries rising from the goop. You plead to God to end your suffering. The cum accelerates. You squeeze your dick to stop the cum, but it begins to leak out of your asshole instead. You let go. The force of the cum tears your urethra open, leaving only a gaping hole in your crotch that spews semen. Your body picks up speed as it slides backwards along the cum. You smash through the wall, hurtling into the sky at thirty miles an hour. From a bird’s eye view you see your house is completely white. Your neighbor calls the cops. The cum accelerates. As you continue to ascend, you spot police cars racing towards your house. The cops pull out their guns and take aim, but stray loads of cum hit them in the eyes, blinding them. The cum accelerates. You are now at an altitude of 1000 feet. The SWAT team arrives. Military helicopters circle you. Hundreds of bullets pierce your body at once, yet you stay conscious. Your testicles have now grown into a substitute brain. The cum accelerates. It has been two days. With your body now destroyed, the cum begins to spray in all directions. You break the sound barrier. The government deploys fighter jets to chase you down, but the impact of your cum sends one plane crashing to the ground. The government decides to let you leave the earth. You feel your gonads start to burn up as you reach the edges of the atmosphere. You narrowly miss the ISS, giving it a new white paint job as you fly past. Physicists struggle to calculate your erratic trajectory. The cum accelerates. The cum begins to gravitate towards itself, forming a comet trail of semen. Astronomers begin calling you the “Cummet.” You are stuck in space forever, stripped of your body and senses, forced to endure an eternity of cumshots. Eventually, you stop thinking.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
The Navy Seals Pasta, but it's continued by an AI.
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What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I’ll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I’ve been involved in numerous secret raids, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I’m the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You’re fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that’s just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little “clever” comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn’t, you didn’t, and now you’re paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You’re fucking dead, kiddo, delete your fucking account or else I'll call the FBI and frame you. And no faggity ass fucking joke about a pitiful school will be tolerated. Get the fuck off my goddamn page. We know who you are, you little punk. You're gonna fucking die, you motherfucker. I’m so fucking sick of all your shitty and offensive bullshit, I could fucking puke. If you come anywhere near my page again, you’re gonna get one hell of a beating, and I mean a fucking beating. And since you can’t seem to grasp the fact that I’m fucking serious, I will be more than happy to tell the FBI everything I know about you, your family, and your friends, as well as providing them with a complete file on all your past and present activities. I want you gone, and if you don’t get the fuck off my page then you’re going to find yourself exactly where you belong, inside a cage, or worse, inside a grave. We are going to hunt you down like the disgusting animal you are, and we’re going to fucking enjoy every second of it, you sick fuck. Get the fuck off of my fucking page. Faggot. You are dead to me. You have no idea how in the absolute fuck I’m going to punish you for this. You have no idea. I'll fucking eat you up like a fucking sandwich, you fucking faggot, and then I'll fucking hang your fucking body from a fucking tree in my front yard, and I’ll brag about it every fucking day. There’s nothing you can fucking do to stop me. You’ve seen me in action, haven’t you? You don’t stand a fucking chance. You’re gonna be sorry you fucking spoke out of turn, when I finally get you. You’ll wish you fucking never fucking said a goddamn word. I don’t give a fuck about anything you have to say. You’re fucking dead, kid, and this time there won’t be fucking phone calls. Delete your account right now and never come back, or I will fucking kill you. I want you off this fucking page, you fucking shitdick. No more fuckin’ comments. You think you can just fucking talk shit and get away with it? This is my fucking page, and I am going to delete you. Do you fucking understand me? I don’t give a shit that you’re a fucking bigot. I don’t give a fuck about what you have to say, and I sure as shit don’t give a fuck about your stupid fucking opinions. I don’t give a fuck about your little platitudes and pointless fucking pandering. I don’t give a fuck about your retard bullshit and your brave little pathetic crybaby mouth. The only thing I give a fuck about is keeping this page clean of any fucking faggot garbage. You have one minute to delete your fucking account before I call the fucking FBI, you goddamn retard. You’re dead, you fucker. I’m gonna be doing a lot more to you in the future than I’m going to do to you now, and you’re going to fucking hate that. Now get the fuck off this page, Otherwise, I’ll fucking have the FBI bust your fucking face in. You little shit, you thought you could have an opinion on this page and it would be safe, but you couldn’t. You’re fucking dead, you fucking faggot. I will fucking eat you alive. Call the fucking FBI. My God, fucking faggot. I fucking hate you. You’re a fucking asshole. And if you say anything else on this fucking page, I’ll fucking have you arrested and thrown in jail. I will fucking make sure the FBI know exactly who you are, and I will fucking fucking see to it that they get you the fuck off this fucking page. You fucking little cunt, you fucking god-damn queer. Fuck off of my fucking fucking page. You don’t have the fucking balls to keep your goddamn mouth shut, do you? Fuck off. Fuck you. Fuck you, you little shit. Your dad’s a fucking asshole. He should fucking die. His mom should fucking die. You are fucking dead, you fucking little fucking cunt. This is your life now, buddy. I’m gonna find you and I’m gonna get you. You fucking know where to find me. Your fucking house is surrounded, son.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
im a monster..
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An angel with a monster that seeks to destroy the very kindness I try to instill in others...
And the monster is very restless, seeking out every weak point it can...
And the monster is very restless, seeking out every weak point it can...
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Our ancestors can see us wank.
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Hello, I am a psychic. I was not born a psychic, nor trained a psychic, I became clairvoyant as the result of a tragic wanking accident, where my spotter was otherwise engaged and I briefly passed to the other side. There before me I saw my relatives, generations up on generations of them right back to the caveman and they all were staring at my lifeless body below, erect penis in hand while a hirsute dwarf blew air into my lungs and shouted to the Gimp, "Bring down the large suitcase I think we are gonna need to go to the river again." My eyes fell upon an ancient pilgrim with my unique jawline as I was pulled back into my body and locked into a deep kiss with my rescuer, the diminutive dwarf "Gary" my soon to be husband (Thanks Obama).
But this is the weird part and the reason I write to you now. Our ancestors are watching us while we wank and some of them are into it. I don't mean to sound gross, because most of them are repulsed by the image of us wanking into cloths, rags, towels, napkins, socks, T shirts, couch cushions and the like, particularly the grandmothers who clutch their pearls as the spooge flies into the air. But a few of the Victorian-Era uncles will rub themselves as they lean in to see the details and it's a little bit creepy. I have an early memory of my great grandfather sitting me on his knee and giving me a nickel but now all I see is ghost him rubbing his crotch and slipping a hand into his overalls as he tries to make eye contact with me every time I pound my pud. And it isn't just me. Everyone's dead relatives can see them wank. And some of them are into it, but it's never the women.
But this is the weird part and the reason I write to you now. Our ancestors are watching us while we wank and some of them are into it. I don't mean to sound gross, because most of them are repulsed by the image of us wanking into cloths, rags, towels, napkins, socks, T shirts, couch cushions and the like, particularly the grandmothers who clutch their pearls as the spooge flies into the air. But a few of the Victorian-Era uncles will rub themselves as they lean in to see the details and it's a little bit creepy. I have an early memory of my great grandfather sitting me on his knee and giving me a nickel but now all I see is ghost him rubbing his crotch and slipping a hand into his overalls as he tries to make eye contact with me every time I pound my pud. And it isn't just me. Everyone's dead relatives can see them wank. And some of them are into it, but it's never the women.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Is this incest?
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Okay. I don't know if this is actually incest since it wasn't something actually sexual in the technical sense but here goes.
When I was little my mom used to put a buttplug in me (which she called a poop plug) and I'd wear it all the time. I was told only to take it out to poop, wipe my \*\*\* then put it back in.
I was really young so I thought this was just something everybody did but one time at school I dropped it when I flushed the toilet and it ended up getting flushed. So when I went back to class I told my teacher that my poop plug got flushed down the toilet. She had no idea what I was talking about so she sent me to the school nurse.
Well after trying to explain what a poop plug was for 15 minutes the school calls the police. The police ask me all these questions and at first I'm scared because I think I'm in trouble for losing my poop plug.
Turns out my mom has schizophrenia and was making me wear this \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* so Satan couldn't stick his cock in my pooper and make me gay.
When I was little my mom used to put a buttplug in me (which she called a poop plug) and I'd wear it all the time. I was told only to take it out to poop, wipe my \*\*\* then put it back in.
I was really young so I thought this was just something everybody did but one time at school I dropped it when I flushed the toilet and it ended up getting flushed. So when I went back to class I told my teacher that my poop plug got flushed down the toilet. She had no idea what I was talking about so she sent me to the school nurse.
Well after trying to explain what a poop plug was for 15 minutes the school calls the police. The police ask me all these questions and at first I'm scared because I think I'm in trouble for losing my poop plug.
Turns out my mom has schizophrenia and was making me wear this \*\*\*\*\*\*\*\* so Satan couldn't stick his cock in my pooper and make me gay.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Don’t remove this from Snickers!
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as a grow up, i look back at the snacks that i ate as a child and have seen them reduce in quality AND quantity but remain the same price or even increase
bags of chips have gotten slimmer
piece count on some candies has gotten lower
length and girth on chocolate bars have decreased
BUT
there is a certain line you don't FUCKING CROSS
and that line is removing the dick vein from my god-dammed snickers bar
HOW THE FUCK am i supposed to enjoy my hard throbbing brown candy bar WITHOUT the accompanying THROBBING cock vein??????
reduce the size of the candy bar, I'm not a size queen
Increase the price, even tho YOU'RE the sugar daddy
reduce the count size, i have trouble counting anyways
but DON'T remove the cock vein
bags of chips have gotten slimmer
piece count on some candies has gotten lower
length and girth on chocolate bars have decreased
BUT
there is a certain line you don't FUCKING CROSS
and that line is removing the dick vein from my god-dammed snickers bar
HOW THE FUCK am i supposed to enjoy my hard throbbing brown candy bar WITHOUT the accompanying THROBBING cock vein??????
reduce the size of the candy bar, I'm not a size queen
Increase the price, even tho YOU'RE the sugar daddy
reduce the count size, i have trouble counting anyways
but DON'T remove the cock vein
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
2 girls 1 cup ruined my life
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Remember 2007? I’ll never forget it. I’d just finished my senior year and had officially stepped into adulthood. Just so happens that ‘07 was the peak of those internet shock sites. The one with the two women eating one another’s shit had spread around school like wildfire. Grossing each other out seemed to be the fad of the year, and eventually I’d had the video sent to me, disguised as something less than obvious of course.
“OMG Shay, you HAVE to check out this pic! Click it!” My best friend Sarah had said. I, naturally curious about what she’d wanted to share, clicked the link. That music was seared into my head as I watched the horror unfold on my computer monitor.
Sarah would likely be mortified to find that rather than pure disgust, there was a twinge of fascination accompanying my discomfort. A fact about myself that, until today, I’ve only shared with one soul. I couldn’t look away from the train wreck as those two women…did what they did. I watched the entire video. Twice.
Afterward I trounced Sarah with every cuss word I could think of, called her the biggest bitch alive and filled her messenger screen with pages of puke emoticons. She struck back with a volley of “lol”s. We then made plans to meet up for the weekend, and signed off. Well…she did…I merely went to invisible mode, and again clicked the link.
Now I’m no prude, but my growing obsession was not in any way sexual. My eyes were glued to the naked girls consuming one another’s waste for a different reason. A not-entirely explainable reason. I was captivated by the fact that not only were they doing it, but that they were doing it for an audience. I wanted to understand their why. In a way I identified with the unseen camera operator. To experience something like that, live…that had to be a once in a lifetime thing, right?
Over the school year, the spark those women lit grew into an inferno. I found myself secretly scouring the internet for similar videos. Sarah wasn’t my only friend, and like I mentioned before “getting” each other had become the year’s entertainment. I’d had to play angry each time a new video was sent my way…but in reality I hungrily watched each one with fascination.
I kept up my prissy ruse throughout the remainder of the school year, and then graduation came. With it, a boom of new additions to my messenger friends. Apparently even those I’d never spoken a word to wanted to remain connected as we spread our wings. One of those gained friends came in the form of Chase Lincoln.
I knew of Chase, but our circles never came together. I couldn’t remember us ever interacting. I accepted his friend request without much thought. It was a short time late…maybe a couple of days or a week…when I saw the blinking chat bar bearing his name upon logging in to my messenger. When I clicked on it, my heart almost skipped a beat. The link wasn’t disguised as anything cutesy…no, it boldly stated exactly what it was. I clicked on it, a bit disappointed to see that it was indeed labeled correctly.
My screen went to the familiar, gaping asshole of “Goatse” that I’d seen countless times. I sighed and closed the image. I didn’t know what I expected.
“Gonna have to try harder than that, bud.” I typed back absently.
Honestly didn’t even expect a reply. Usually the thrill for the shower comes when the victim of their prank freaks out, and I’d denied Chase the pleasure. So when I heard the ping, my curiosity was roused.
“Seen 2girls1cup?” He’d relied. Something seemed strange to me. His message was simple, and didn’t seem to be disappointed or anything. Just a simple question. Almost like…he was legitimately SHARING with me rather than trying to “get” me. It would explain why he’d brazenly decided not to shield the prior link. My heart picked up speed as I decided to test the waters…and my theory.
“Yea, a bunch of times.” I answered, and didn’t blink as I awaited Chase’s response.
He finally replied with, “Too mild?”
Suddenly my secret shame was thrust into the spotlight. It felt instantly like Chase Lincoln understood me…I felt seen, and with that a rush washed through me.
“After the first dozen times I looked it up its lost its charm.” I said back, my fingers trembling as I typed.
As I waited on his words, I realized I was ignoring every other blinking chat box…and I didn’t care. I was laser focused on the new revelation that I wasn’t alone in my morbid interest.
“Not for the faint of heart.” Chase’s words appeared on my screen, followed by a link. I clicked without hesitation, and my eyes widened as my brain took in a new image.
The body on my screen was that of a young woman, nude, in the process of having an autopsy performed on her. Her ribcage was opened, revealing her innards and her scalp had been removed exposing her brain. One of her eyes had been plucked from its socket and placed into her mouth, where it stared blankly at the camera. Her body was being degraded and molested by the mortician as well, as evident by the gloved finger inserted into her sex. The scene was grisly, disturbing…and I refused to look away until the “ping” of Chase’s chat box stole my attention back.
“Too much?” It read.
I hesitated a moment, my heart fluttering, my nerves burning. And then I responded with a single word.
“No.”
The conversation went on, and I found myself sitting at my computer chatting with Chase long into the night. We shared our deep thoughts, our obsessions with the dark and macabre. Kindred spirits finding solace in being able to openly confess to one another. He understood me.
Days went on, hot summer sun burned above, but I found myself spending my days indoors indulging my dark side with Chase. He’d have a new twisted scene to share with me nearly every day, and of course I’d hungrily accept the offering each and every time. I knew that I was fucked up, but I didn’t feel like it when speaking with Chase. I’d frequently asked him where he managed to find such fascinating pictures and videos…I trolled the best gore sites I could find, but never once had I seen any of the goods he shared. He’d always replied the same way...
“I’ll show you one day.” He’d say. One day, he kept his word.
It was nearing the end of summer. Trees were in the very beginning of their color change, and the occasional cool breeze offered relief from the sweltering heat. Things were going as usual and our chat had turned to our mutual interest.
“I wanna show you a new one.” Chase popped off with.
“Yes please.” I answered back.
“No, this time I want you to see it in person. Its brand new, just posted, and I wanted us to see it for the first time together.” He replied after a moment.
I felt my face flush. That was honestly something I didn’t expect. Our dark curiosities had brought us together online, but the possibility that it would go beyond that never REALLY occurred to me. It felt more…exposed…that way. The very thought made me nervous, but as soon as my fingers touched the keyboard, I found them agreeing without any hesitation.
Chase sent me his address, and explained that his parents were out of town. I hurriedly got dressed, and was there in under twenty minutes. I’d not seen Chase since graduation, and was a bit taken aback when he opened the door of his home to me. His jet black hair was spiked up, and he’d elected to grow a bit of facial hair. It looked good on him. He wore a grunge band’s shirt and basketball shorts, and for the first time I saw the boy as “handsome”. He smiled, and wordlessly invited me in with a jerk of his head.
I felt awkward, and my nerves were on fire as I followed him up a set of stairs to his room. There was something else bubbling up inside of me, too…attraction. I caught myself eyeing his back muscles, and stopped myself before checking out his ass. We reached the summit of the staircase, and marched toward the door at the far end of the hallway.
Chase threw open the door to his room, and I saw what was inside. Nothing outrageous or anything. A few band posters adorned the walls, his bed was messily made, and in the corner, near the lone window, was a small computer desk. The screen saver on the monitor sitting upon it was the green falling text from the “Matrix” movies. It dawned on me that this was the very place he’d been communicating with me from all summer. Felt a little surreal, but not in a bad way.
“You ready?” He asked, his voice more gruff and manly than I imagined. I nodded as he wheeled the office chair out and offered it to me.
I sat and he hovered behind me, his warm breath on the back of my neck as he leaned beside me and wiggled the computer mouse. The descending green text vanished. On the screen I saw a strange browser that looked nothing like the one I used. My heart throbbed in my chest as my eyes scanned over the huge list of links displayed. They were labeled crazy things like “SawbladeUrethra.mp4”, and “PutridSexObject.mov”…disturbing…and right up my alley. Chase moved the pointer to one called “BabyHorseHead.mp4”. I felt his breath on my neck quicken as he clicked.
It was a dimly lit, concrete room that filled the screen. On the ground was the decapitated body of a horse lying on its side, blood spurting from what was left of the neck. My skin prickled as I watched the pool of crimson grow around the equine cadaver. The head of said horse was nowhere in frame. Then, the horror came. It was silent, but the screaming face of the newborn could clearly be seen as a masked figure stepped into frame carrying the baby. The adult held it lovingly, the little one propped against their shoulder as if it were about to be burped. That’s the furthest thing from what happened though…The masked adult knelt beside the spurting stump of the horse, and proceeded to roughly stuff the baby inside the neck hole of the animal feet first. My stomach turned but I as so often was the case, I could not look away. I watched as the helpless baby was shoved aggressively into the mutilated animal until only its screaming head protruded. The masked adult then exited the room without even a glimpse back, and the video continued showing the screaming child’s head on the dead animal’s body for thirty more seconds until abruptly ending.
“Fuck…” I whispered, finally managing to pull my eyes away from the screen.
“Yeah.” Chase muttered, and I saw his face was equal parts horrified and fascinated with what we’d just seen. He stood, wrapping his hands around to the back of his head.
That’s when I saw something else. My eyes fell to his lap, where his basketball shorts betrayed a certain…physical reaction. He stood at full attention. Perhaps he had forgotten he was wearing such loose fabric, because when he saw the angle of my stare he blushed a deep red, and turned to hide his arousal.
Suddenly…suddenly I didn’t want him too. Seeing him in such a state had bubbled up similar feelings within me. It wasn’t the video that did it. Neither of us were having the reaction from what we saw, but instead it was BECAUSE we saw it. I didn’t even realize I’d jumped from the chair until I found myself locking lips with the boy. Hastily, we tore one another’s clothing off, and made love there on his bed. He was a gentle lover, and everything felt so strong and natural as we reached the pinnacle together. I’d never felt so understood.
“You really get me, Shay.” He muttered as he lay beside me, recovering, caressing my shoulder. I moaned a sigh of agreement, and closed my eyes reveling in the blissful feeling. “That’s why I want you to help me with something.”
“Hm?” I questioned, my eyes remaining closed until I felt him leave the bed.
I watched as he shamelessly strutted toward his computer in the nude. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest, and stared inquisitively. He seemed to sense this, as he continued speaking without looking back.
“You understand. I want to be immortalized…like they are.” He announced.
“What do you mean?” I questioned.
“That baby…it probably died, we both know that…but the legacy it’ll leave…that’s truly special.” Chase explained. “That’s part of why I asked you over today.” He finally turned his face to meet my gaze. “ I need a camera person.”
From the drawer of his desk he produced a small camcorder. He held it up so that I’d have a clear view of the device. I didn’t quite understand what he was getting at, but the tingles had again washed over my body. I was feeling more alive than ever. I felt…well, lets just say I lowered the blanket, and exposed myself to Chase. He was letting me see him…the real him, and I felt the need to be just as vulnerable.
“Will you help me?” He asked sincerely. I was almost in a trance. I knew that things could only go badly, but his desire to be immortalized…his honesty and openness…I felt almost intoxicated. I nodded dreamily, standing but making no effort to cover my self. I extended my hand and took the camcorder.
“What are you going to do?” I asked, lazily opening the recorder’s screen and fiddling with the settings.
He turned and bent down toward the drawer again. I made no effort to avoid admiring his muscular ass that time. When he stood again, he held a pistol. I stared at it for a moment before silently pointing the camera in his direction. I made sure I had him completely in frame as he checked the gun to make sure it was prepared.
“My dad’s.” He said stoically. “This is all you need to upload the video.” He gestured with the gun toward the computer. “Plug it in once its done, and drag and drop the file. That’s it.”
I nodded, a small voice in the back of my head questioning what the hell I was doing, but that voice was drowned out by the much more boisterous, thrilling voice. “Once in a lifetime…” It exuded.
I pointed the camera at Chase, and pressed record upon his instruction.
“You don’t want to stop this?” Chase asked playfully as he pressed the barrel of the gun beneath his chin. Slowly, I looked up at him from the screen, and shook my head.
He grinned, and pulled the hammer back. The bullet clicking into place echoed through the room. Even though I’d been expecting the bang, it was louder than I thought it would be. Loud enough even, to rip my back down to reality. He’d fucking done it, and the moment that bullet ripped through his skull, my world changed. The boisterous voice dissipated immediately, replaced by my own screams.
“Oh my god, oh my god…” I hysterically repeated. I knew there was a possibility he’d pull the trigger, but a part of me…a big part expected him to chicken out. I thought he was testing me…no…no that wasn’t true. I’d wanted him to do it. I’d wanted to witness such a moment…but now that I had…
I fought to keep myself from throwing up as I looked at the blood spattered wall behind him, the red splash dripping on the computer intermingling with the green text falling on the screen. I shakily dropped the camcorder onto the floor, and gathered my clothes. All summer I’d been unable to pry my eyes away from the horrors displayed on a computer, but in real life I couldn’t force myself to look at the body of Chase Lincoln.
I should have stopped it. I could have. What had I done? These thoughts raced threw my head as I threw my outfit on and rushed through the bedroom door. I bounded through the hallway and down the stairs, pushing my way through the front door. I didn’t look back at the house as I leaped into my car and sped away.
I was sure the police would be coming for me. I was positive. I tried to convince myself to go to them, to explain what had happened...but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Days passed, and with each one my anxiety grew. Where the fuck were they? Surely there was some evidence in that house that tied me to it. I racked my brain every minute of every day, and came to the conclusion that the camcorder would certainly have my voice on it. Maybe that wasn’t enough to pinpoint me. Yeah, sure…just a voice that could belong to any girl. Then I remembered that there would definitely be a record of our conversations saved somewhere in his computer. There was no way the evidence wouldn’t lead them right to me. So where the hell were they? Weeks went by…months…all without incident.
The day I moved out of my parents house, and indeed the state…was the same day that I saw the “MISSING” poster. I was on my way out of town when I stopped for a fill up, and there was Chase Lincoln, staring at me from a small sheet of paper taped to the glass window. Missing. That made no sense to me. How could he be MISSING?! My thoughts raced as pumped the gas. Once I was finished, I hauled ass out of that town. I never went back. I’d somehow had a guardian angel watching over me, and that had helped me escape…
Thirteen years. Its been thirteen years since Chase Lincoln’s suicide. I still think about it quite often. I’ve since absolved myself of any guilt I felt. He was going to do it whether I tried to stop him or not. He’d had a gun after all, who’s to say he wouldn’t have shot me first had I tried. Telling myself those things has helped me. A mentally disturbed boy I’d crossed paths with…that’s all.
Today, though, my heart skipped a beat in a way it hasn’t in quite a long time. My smartphone dinged, letting me know that I’d received an email. My breath quickened when I saw that the sender was my own, old email address. The one I’d used to instant message with my friends thirteen years ago. The subject read “I KNOW”, and the body of the message contained only a single link. My finger trembled as I tapped it, and I clenched my eyes tightly closed as Chase Lincoln’s voice penetrated my ears.
“You don’t want to stop this?”
“OMG Shay, you HAVE to check out this pic! Click it!” My best friend Sarah had said. I, naturally curious about what she’d wanted to share, clicked the link. That music was seared into my head as I watched the horror unfold on my computer monitor.
Sarah would likely be mortified to find that rather than pure disgust, there was a twinge of fascination accompanying my discomfort. A fact about myself that, until today, I’ve only shared with one soul. I couldn’t look away from the train wreck as those two women…did what they did. I watched the entire video. Twice.
Afterward I trounced Sarah with every cuss word I could think of, called her the biggest bitch alive and filled her messenger screen with pages of puke emoticons. She struck back with a volley of “lol”s. We then made plans to meet up for the weekend, and signed off. Well…she did…I merely went to invisible mode, and again clicked the link.
Now I’m no prude, but my growing obsession was not in any way sexual. My eyes were glued to the naked girls consuming one another’s waste for a different reason. A not-entirely explainable reason. I was captivated by the fact that not only were they doing it, but that they were doing it for an audience. I wanted to understand their why. In a way I identified with the unseen camera operator. To experience something like that, live…that had to be a once in a lifetime thing, right?
Over the school year, the spark those women lit grew into an inferno. I found myself secretly scouring the internet for similar videos. Sarah wasn’t my only friend, and like I mentioned before “getting” each other had become the year’s entertainment. I’d had to play angry each time a new video was sent my way…but in reality I hungrily watched each one with fascination.
I kept up my prissy ruse throughout the remainder of the school year, and then graduation came. With it, a boom of new additions to my messenger friends. Apparently even those I’d never spoken a word to wanted to remain connected as we spread our wings. One of those gained friends came in the form of Chase Lincoln.
I knew of Chase, but our circles never came together. I couldn’t remember us ever interacting. I accepted his friend request without much thought. It was a short time late…maybe a couple of days or a week…when I saw the blinking chat bar bearing his name upon logging in to my messenger. When I clicked on it, my heart almost skipped a beat. The link wasn’t disguised as anything cutesy…no, it boldly stated exactly what it was. I clicked on it, a bit disappointed to see that it was indeed labeled correctly.
My screen went to the familiar, gaping asshole of “Goatse” that I’d seen countless times. I sighed and closed the image. I didn’t know what I expected.
“Gonna have to try harder than that, bud.” I typed back absently.
Honestly didn’t even expect a reply. Usually the thrill for the shower comes when the victim of their prank freaks out, and I’d denied Chase the pleasure. So when I heard the ping, my curiosity was roused.
“Seen 2girls1cup?” He’d relied. Something seemed strange to me. His message was simple, and didn’t seem to be disappointed or anything. Just a simple question. Almost like…he was legitimately SHARING with me rather than trying to “get” me. It would explain why he’d brazenly decided not to shield the prior link. My heart picked up speed as I decided to test the waters…and my theory.
“Yea, a bunch of times.” I answered, and didn’t blink as I awaited Chase’s response.
He finally replied with, “Too mild?”
Suddenly my secret shame was thrust into the spotlight. It felt instantly like Chase Lincoln understood me…I felt seen, and with that a rush washed through me.
“After the first dozen times I looked it up its lost its charm.” I said back, my fingers trembling as I typed.
As I waited on his words, I realized I was ignoring every other blinking chat box…and I didn’t care. I was laser focused on the new revelation that I wasn’t alone in my morbid interest.
“Not for the faint of heart.” Chase’s words appeared on my screen, followed by a link. I clicked without hesitation, and my eyes widened as my brain took in a new image.
The body on my screen was that of a young woman, nude, in the process of having an autopsy performed on her. Her ribcage was opened, revealing her innards and her scalp had been removed exposing her brain. One of her eyes had been plucked from its socket and placed into her mouth, where it stared blankly at the camera. Her body was being degraded and molested by the mortician as well, as evident by the gloved finger inserted into her sex. The scene was grisly, disturbing…and I refused to look away until the “ping” of Chase’s chat box stole my attention back.
“Too much?” It read.
I hesitated a moment, my heart fluttering, my nerves burning. And then I responded with a single word.
“No.”
The conversation went on, and I found myself sitting at my computer chatting with Chase long into the night. We shared our deep thoughts, our obsessions with the dark and macabre. Kindred spirits finding solace in being able to openly confess to one another. He understood me.
Days went on, hot summer sun burned above, but I found myself spending my days indoors indulging my dark side with Chase. He’d have a new twisted scene to share with me nearly every day, and of course I’d hungrily accept the offering each and every time. I knew that I was fucked up, but I didn’t feel like it when speaking with Chase. I’d frequently asked him where he managed to find such fascinating pictures and videos…I trolled the best gore sites I could find, but never once had I seen any of the goods he shared. He’d always replied the same way...
“I’ll show you one day.” He’d say. One day, he kept his word.
It was nearing the end of summer. Trees were in the very beginning of their color change, and the occasional cool breeze offered relief from the sweltering heat. Things were going as usual and our chat had turned to our mutual interest.
“I wanna show you a new one.” Chase popped off with.
“Yes please.” I answered back.
“No, this time I want you to see it in person. Its brand new, just posted, and I wanted us to see it for the first time together.” He replied after a moment.
I felt my face flush. That was honestly something I didn’t expect. Our dark curiosities had brought us together online, but the possibility that it would go beyond that never REALLY occurred to me. It felt more…exposed…that way. The very thought made me nervous, but as soon as my fingers touched the keyboard, I found them agreeing without any hesitation.
Chase sent me his address, and explained that his parents were out of town. I hurriedly got dressed, and was there in under twenty minutes. I’d not seen Chase since graduation, and was a bit taken aback when he opened the door of his home to me. His jet black hair was spiked up, and he’d elected to grow a bit of facial hair. It looked good on him. He wore a grunge band’s shirt and basketball shorts, and for the first time I saw the boy as “handsome”. He smiled, and wordlessly invited me in with a jerk of his head.
I felt awkward, and my nerves were on fire as I followed him up a set of stairs to his room. There was something else bubbling up inside of me, too…attraction. I caught myself eyeing his back muscles, and stopped myself before checking out his ass. We reached the summit of the staircase, and marched toward the door at the far end of the hallway.
Chase threw open the door to his room, and I saw what was inside. Nothing outrageous or anything. A few band posters adorned the walls, his bed was messily made, and in the corner, near the lone window, was a small computer desk. The screen saver on the monitor sitting upon it was the green falling text from the “Matrix” movies. It dawned on me that this was the very place he’d been communicating with me from all summer. Felt a little surreal, but not in a bad way.
“You ready?” He asked, his voice more gruff and manly than I imagined. I nodded as he wheeled the office chair out and offered it to me.
I sat and he hovered behind me, his warm breath on the back of my neck as he leaned beside me and wiggled the computer mouse. The descending green text vanished. On the screen I saw a strange browser that looked nothing like the one I used. My heart throbbed in my chest as my eyes scanned over the huge list of links displayed. They were labeled crazy things like “SawbladeUrethra.mp4”, and “PutridSexObject.mov”…disturbing…and right up my alley. Chase moved the pointer to one called “BabyHorseHead.mp4”. I felt his breath on my neck quicken as he clicked.
It was a dimly lit, concrete room that filled the screen. On the ground was the decapitated body of a horse lying on its side, blood spurting from what was left of the neck. My skin prickled as I watched the pool of crimson grow around the equine cadaver. The head of said horse was nowhere in frame. Then, the horror came. It was silent, but the screaming face of the newborn could clearly be seen as a masked figure stepped into frame carrying the baby. The adult held it lovingly, the little one propped against their shoulder as if it were about to be burped. That’s the furthest thing from what happened though…The masked adult knelt beside the spurting stump of the horse, and proceeded to roughly stuff the baby inside the neck hole of the animal feet first. My stomach turned but I as so often was the case, I could not look away. I watched as the helpless baby was shoved aggressively into the mutilated animal until only its screaming head protruded. The masked adult then exited the room without even a glimpse back, and the video continued showing the screaming child’s head on the dead animal’s body for thirty more seconds until abruptly ending.
“Fuck…” I whispered, finally managing to pull my eyes away from the screen.
“Yeah.” Chase muttered, and I saw his face was equal parts horrified and fascinated with what we’d just seen. He stood, wrapping his hands around to the back of his head.
That’s when I saw something else. My eyes fell to his lap, where his basketball shorts betrayed a certain…physical reaction. He stood at full attention. Perhaps he had forgotten he was wearing such loose fabric, because when he saw the angle of my stare he blushed a deep red, and turned to hide his arousal.
Suddenly…suddenly I didn’t want him too. Seeing him in such a state had bubbled up similar feelings within me. It wasn’t the video that did it. Neither of us were having the reaction from what we saw, but instead it was BECAUSE we saw it. I didn’t even realize I’d jumped from the chair until I found myself locking lips with the boy. Hastily, we tore one another’s clothing off, and made love there on his bed. He was a gentle lover, and everything felt so strong and natural as we reached the pinnacle together. I’d never felt so understood.
“You really get me, Shay.” He muttered as he lay beside me, recovering, caressing my shoulder. I moaned a sigh of agreement, and closed my eyes reveling in the blissful feeling. “That’s why I want you to help me with something.”
“Hm?” I questioned, my eyes remaining closed until I felt him leave the bed.
I watched as he shamelessly strutted toward his computer in the nude. I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest, and stared inquisitively. He seemed to sense this, as he continued speaking without looking back.
“You understand. I want to be immortalized…like they are.” He announced.
“What do you mean?” I questioned.
“That baby…it probably died, we both know that…but the legacy it’ll leave…that’s truly special.” Chase explained. “That’s part of why I asked you over today.” He finally turned his face to meet my gaze. “ I need a camera person.”
From the drawer of his desk he produced a small camcorder. He held it up so that I’d have a clear view of the device. I didn’t quite understand what he was getting at, but the tingles had again washed over my body. I was feeling more alive than ever. I felt…well, lets just say I lowered the blanket, and exposed myself to Chase. He was letting me see him…the real him, and I felt the need to be just as vulnerable.
“Will you help me?” He asked sincerely. I was almost in a trance. I knew that things could only go badly, but his desire to be immortalized…his honesty and openness…I felt almost intoxicated. I nodded dreamily, standing but making no effort to cover my self. I extended my hand and took the camcorder.
“What are you going to do?” I asked, lazily opening the recorder’s screen and fiddling with the settings.
He turned and bent down toward the drawer again. I made no effort to avoid admiring his muscular ass that time. When he stood again, he held a pistol. I stared at it for a moment before silently pointing the camera in his direction. I made sure I had him completely in frame as he checked the gun to make sure it was prepared.
“My dad’s.” He said stoically. “This is all you need to upload the video.” He gestured with the gun toward the computer. “Plug it in once its done, and drag and drop the file. That’s it.”
I nodded, a small voice in the back of my head questioning what the hell I was doing, but that voice was drowned out by the much more boisterous, thrilling voice. “Once in a lifetime…” It exuded.
I pointed the camera at Chase, and pressed record upon his instruction.
“You don’t want to stop this?” Chase asked playfully as he pressed the barrel of the gun beneath his chin. Slowly, I looked up at him from the screen, and shook my head.
He grinned, and pulled the hammer back. The bullet clicking into place echoed through the room. Even though I’d been expecting the bang, it was louder than I thought it would be. Loud enough even, to rip my back down to reality. He’d fucking done it, and the moment that bullet ripped through his skull, my world changed. The boisterous voice dissipated immediately, replaced by my own screams.
“Oh my god, oh my god…” I hysterically repeated. I knew there was a possibility he’d pull the trigger, but a part of me…a big part expected him to chicken out. I thought he was testing me…no…no that wasn’t true. I’d wanted him to do it. I’d wanted to witness such a moment…but now that I had…
I fought to keep myself from throwing up as I looked at the blood spattered wall behind him, the red splash dripping on the computer intermingling with the green text falling on the screen. I shakily dropped the camcorder onto the floor, and gathered my clothes. All summer I’d been unable to pry my eyes away from the horrors displayed on a computer, but in real life I couldn’t force myself to look at the body of Chase Lincoln.
I should have stopped it. I could have. What had I done? These thoughts raced threw my head as I threw my outfit on and rushed through the bedroom door. I bounded through the hallway and down the stairs, pushing my way through the front door. I didn’t look back at the house as I leaped into my car and sped away.
I was sure the police would be coming for me. I was positive. I tried to convince myself to go to them, to explain what had happened...but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Days passed, and with each one my anxiety grew. Where the fuck were they? Surely there was some evidence in that house that tied me to it. I racked my brain every minute of every day, and came to the conclusion that the camcorder would certainly have my voice on it. Maybe that wasn’t enough to pinpoint me. Yeah, sure…just a voice that could belong to any girl. Then I remembered that there would definitely be a record of our conversations saved somewhere in his computer. There was no way the evidence wouldn’t lead them right to me. So where the hell were they? Weeks went by…months…all without incident.
The day I moved out of my parents house, and indeed the state…was the same day that I saw the “MISSING” poster. I was on my way out of town when I stopped for a fill up, and there was Chase Lincoln, staring at me from a small sheet of paper taped to the glass window. Missing. That made no sense to me. How could he be MISSING?! My thoughts raced as pumped the gas. Once I was finished, I hauled ass out of that town. I never went back. I’d somehow had a guardian angel watching over me, and that had helped me escape…
Thirteen years. Its been thirteen years since Chase Lincoln’s suicide. I still think about it quite often. I’ve since absolved myself of any guilt I felt. He was going to do it whether I tried to stop him or not. He’d had a gun after all, who’s to say he wouldn’t have shot me first had I tried. Telling myself those things has helped me. A mentally disturbed boy I’d crossed paths with…that’s all.
Today, though, my heart skipped a beat in a way it hasn’t in quite a long time. My smartphone dinged, letting me know that I’d received an email. My breath quickened when I saw that the sender was my own, old email address. The one I’d used to instant message with my friends thirteen years ago. The subject read “I KNOW”, and the body of the message contained only a single link. My finger trembled as I tapped it, and I clenched my eyes tightly closed as Chase Lincoln’s voice penetrated my ears.
“You don’t want to stop this?”
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Copypasta Bot
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Full neon genesis evangelion opening
Show content
Zankoku na tenshi no you ni
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare...
Aoi kaze ga ima mune no doa wo tataitemo,
Watashi dake wo tada mitsumete
Hohoenderu Anata
Sotto Fureru mono
Motomeru koto ni muchuu de,
Unmei sae mada shiranai itaike na hitomi
Dakedo itsuka kizuku deshou
Sono senaka ni wa
Haruka mirai mezasu tame no
Hane ga aru koto...
Zankoku na tenshi no tēze
Madobe kara yagate tobitatsu
Hotobashiru atsui patosu de
Omoide wo uragiru nara
Kono sora wo daite kagayaku
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare
End of the TV anime opening
Zutto nemutteru watashi no ai no yurikago
Anata dake ga yume no shisha ni
Yobareru asa ga kuru
Hosoi kubisuji wo tsukiakari ga utsushiteru
Sekai jū no toki wo tomete
Tojikometai kedo...
Moshi mo futari aeta koto ni imi ga aru nara,
Watashi wa, sou, jiyū wo shiru
Tame no Baiburu
Zankoku na tenshi no tēze
Kanashimi ga soshite hajimaru
Dakishimeta inochi no katachi
Sono yume ni mezameta toki
Dare yori mo hikari wo hanatsu
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare
Hito wa ai wo tsumugi nagara rekishi wo tsukuru
Megami nante narenai mama
Watashi wa ikiru...
Zankoku na tenshi no tēze
Madobe kara yagate tobitatsu
Hotobashiru atsui patosu de
Omoide wo uragiru nara
Kono sora wo daite kagayaku
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare...
Aoi kaze ga ima mune no doa wo tataitemo,
Watashi dake wo tada mitsumete
Hohoenderu Anata
Sotto Fureru mono
Motomeru koto ni muchuu de,
Unmei sae mada shiranai itaike na hitomi
Dakedo itsuka kizuku deshou
Sono senaka ni wa
Haruka mirai mezasu tame no
Hane ga aru koto...
Zankoku na tenshi no tēze
Madobe kara yagate tobitatsu
Hotobashiru atsui patosu de
Omoide wo uragiru nara
Kono sora wo daite kagayaku
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare
End of the TV anime opening
Zutto nemutteru watashi no ai no yurikago
Anata dake ga yume no shisha ni
Yobareru asa ga kuru
Hosoi kubisuji wo tsukiakari ga utsushiteru
Sekai jū no toki wo tomete
Tojikometai kedo...
Moshi mo futari aeta koto ni imi ga aru nara,
Watashi wa, sou, jiyū wo shiru
Tame no Baiburu
Zankoku na tenshi no tēze
Kanashimi ga soshite hajimaru
Dakishimeta inochi no katachi
Sono yume ni mezameta toki
Dare yori mo hikari wo hanatsu
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare
Hito wa ai wo tsumugi nagara rekishi wo tsukuru
Megami nante narenai mama
Watashi wa ikiru...
Zankoku na tenshi no tēze
Madobe kara yagate tobitatsu
Hotobashiru atsui patosu de
Omoide wo uragiru nara
Kono sora wo daite kagayaku
Shounen yo, shinwa ni nare
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Skyrim foot textures
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I think about the foot textures in Skyrim a lot. This game got so much praise at launch, and ever since, but did it ever occur to anyone how egregiously Bethesda fucked up the feet in Skyrim.
People be on here like “looking for my soul mate 🥺” or “how can I mod Skyrim to marry Serana???” nobody EVER asks “HOW DO I FIX THE FUCKED UP TOES IN SKYRIM”. God it makes me so mad just imagining Todd Howard sitting in his ivory tower chuckling to himself “those stupid bastards are going to buy the next special edition of Skyrim and I am still not going to update the foot textures”.
Hey Todd, I know they probably didn’t teach you what feet are supposed to look like in the chess club (you big fucking nerd) but I will not spend another penny on your dumb ass game series until this is fixed. No, I will not just use a mod, this should NEVER have happened in the first place. How am I supposed to play as a loin cloth wearing barbarian in Skyrim when I have to see these disgusting pasted on foot textures everywhere I go? It makes me sick to my stomach.
The Hobbit (game released in 2004!!!) had more detailed foot textures. Skyrim came out in 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022. You’re telling me they couldn’t repair this absolute disaster of an aesthetic decision for any of those releases? Un-fucking-real.
I will literally marry you if you break into Bethesda head quarters and repair these awful textures from the inside for the 2023 release of Skyrim.
People be on here like “looking for my soul mate 🥺” or “how can I mod Skyrim to marry Serana???” nobody EVER asks “HOW DO I FIX THE FUCKED UP TOES IN SKYRIM”. God it makes me so mad just imagining Todd Howard sitting in his ivory tower chuckling to himself “those stupid bastards are going to buy the next special edition of Skyrim and I am still not going to update the foot textures”.
Hey Todd, I know they probably didn’t teach you what feet are supposed to look like in the chess club (you big fucking nerd) but I will not spend another penny on your dumb ass game series until this is fixed. No, I will not just use a mod, this should NEVER have happened in the first place. How am I supposed to play as a loin cloth wearing barbarian in Skyrim when I have to see these disgusting pasted on foot textures everywhere I go? It makes me sick to my stomach.
The Hobbit (game released in 2004!!!) had more detailed foot textures. Skyrim came out in 2011, 2012, 2013, 2014, 2015, 2016, 2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, and 2022. You’re telling me they couldn’t repair this absolute disaster of an aesthetic decision for any of those releases? Un-fucking-real.
I will literally marry you if you break into Bethesda head quarters and repair these awful textures from the inside for the 2023 release of Skyrim.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
Sans was talking to ME.
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After fourteen hours of rigorous gameplay I finally did it, I reached Sans' bossfight in the genocide run. It wasn't too hard before Undyne the Undying, matter of fact, the hardest challenge up to this point was probably to not die of boredom from running around slaying all of the monsters in regular encounters. I must have gotten up from the computer at least 3 separate times to make PB sandwiches when I got hungry, butt now I couldn't believe it. I was in the hall, and there he was, Sans. In my previous playthrough he congratulated me on not receiving any 'LOVE' (ouch), it was a pacifist run of course so I couldn't get any experience or the run would be over, but I did go out of my way to try to kill Napstablook in it anyway because he doesn't give you any 'EXECUTION POINTS.' I pressed 'Z' a couple of times to skip the dialogue and get to the boss fight quicker, but then I read something that caught my eye. 'do you think even the worst person can change...?', I froze, but pressed 'Z' again, timidly, 'that everybody can be a good person, if they just try?' Time stopped. I started blinking faster, my brain was still interpreting what it had just read. Sure, I think some bad people can change. Many rehab institutions for various kinds of criminals have good rates of their clients not offending again post-treatment, 'but that everybody can be a good person'? I don't think so. If everybody could be a good person I don't think people would be complaining about the bad people doing bad things in the world all the time. 'heh heh heh heh...' Why is he laughing? What's so funny about that? Did Tobyfox know I was going to play his game on this specific day and decide to feed Sans these lines knowing that I was going to read them? Sure, I had watched the Sans fight before in my research on how to defeat him, but I had never actually paid attention to what Sans was saying, only to how one should handle his final attack and how to kill him during his 'special attack'. It isn't funny, or ever something to laugh at, that I am just sitting here. Why would that be funny? Sure, I could be helping my mom make dinner or do the dishes, but she has a lot more experience than I do with that, I don't think she needs my help. And, okay, maybe spamming weird memes in small Twitch streamers' chat with limited- to no moderation isn't the nicest thing to do. But none of that makes me not a good person. None of that makes me BAD, right? Okay, and dropping the n-bomb is reprehensible, sure, but everybody makes mistakes. I would never do that anymore, unless I'm talking with a specific friend group. I also would never, EVER, again, steal my parents' credit card and spend their money on League of Legends skins. That only happened like five times and honestly, it wasn't a big deal. I have definitely learned and grown from other experiences too, for example: when one of my good friends was transitioning from FTM and I was creeping on them DAILY and talking about them like they were just an object when they weren't in the room, so much growth, maybe TODAY that would make me a bad person, but that was like, what, 5 months ago? So, yeah, I AM a good person. I ONLY PULLED MY CAT BY ITS TAIL !!ONE TIME!! AND IT IS JUST AN ANIMAL SO WHO CARES. Everybody kicks their pet at least once. It is not just me, I am a good person. I am a FANTASTIC person. 'Z', 'alright', 'Z', 'here's a better question'.......................... He jumped straight to his next question. He didn't care to wait for me to answer him, because he already knew what I would say. I had lost the fight before it even begun. In my 33 years of life I never thought a video game character would have such a great impact on my life. I never knew I would be sitting here contemplating his words so carefully. For so long, I have been subjecting everything and everyone around me to a bad time, and never stopped to consider what would happen if the tables were turned. I do not want to have a bad time.
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Copypasta Bot
copypasta_bot
r/waifuism irony
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That's called delusional attachment, a characteristic shared by several mental conditions (most related to borderline personality disorder and bipolar disorder).
A delusional attachment happens by several reasons, specially complex trauma at early childhood. If trauma is complex enough, it can even develop into a "fictive" (an identity part of dissociative identity disorder that's built up based on a fictional character).
So, as much as the person believes to be the reincarnation of someone, or that a part of them is, they aren't. It's just a belief, just like I've seen many people calling themselves the reincarnation of Jesus in the mental hospital i work at.
As much as they believe to be the character, as much as they want to be the character, the sole truth is that they aren't.
Even if by any single chance they're real in another world or realm, they wouldn't need the body of a teen to "live in this world".
Still, delusional attachment is hard to treat and must be worked with an specialized professional (Sadly there aren't many, and the lack of knowledge from the therapist can cause even more damage).
Reality check isn't suggested to do unless the patient is at an stage ready for it, otherwise you would end up hurting them, making them distrust you, and even reaffirming their delusion.
PD: also there's a lot of people who use the "kin" word pretty much casually, to say they identify with certain 2D guy, which is completely normal.
A delusional attachment happens by several reasons, specially complex trauma at early childhood. If trauma is complex enough, it can even develop into a "fictive" (an identity part of dissociative identity disorder that's built up based on a fictional character).
So, as much as the person believes to be the reincarnation of someone, or that a part of them is, they aren't. It's just a belief, just like I've seen many people calling themselves the reincarnation of Jesus in the mental hospital i work at.
As much as they believe to be the character, as much as they want to be the character, the sole truth is that they aren't.
Even if by any single chance they're real in another world or realm, they wouldn't need the body of a teen to "live in this world".
Still, delusional attachment is hard to treat and must be worked with an specialized professional (Sadly there aren't many, and the lack of knowledge from the therapist can cause even more damage).
Reality check isn't suggested to do unless the patient is at an stage ready for it, otherwise you would end up hurting them, making them distrust you, and even reaffirming their delusion.
PD: also there's a lot of people who use the "kin" word pretty much casually, to say they identify with certain 2D guy, which is completely normal.
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