One morning before school I was feeling kinda sick. Like diarrhea sick. My mom said, "Here, take an extra pair of underwear." Not thinking what kind of underwear she handed me, I shoved them in my backpack. At school I did the unthinkable, I went in my pants. I ran to the bathroom with my bag so I could use the extra pair my mom sent me. When I tried to put on the underwear, I realized my mom gave me one of my little sisters bedwetter diapers. And I had already thrown MY underwear away! Then at PE I was doing jumping-jacks with my sisters "underwear" on. I was also wearing baggy jeans. They fell down and revealed my sisters undies. Lucky me, I was helping my teacher do them in the middle of everyone, so they ALL saw me! I got so scared that I wet, and let out another flow of poo again!
Name:
VIPPER2006-02-28 19:25
Mongler's Soliloquy
To /b/, or not to /b/-- That is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to mongle
The traps and phalli of outrageous postings
Or to take arms against a sea of furries
And by opposing end them. To FYAD, to GTFO--
No more-- and by GTFO to say we end
The heartache, and the thousand unnatural shocks
That flesh is heir to. 'Tis a cock
Devoutly to be mongled. To FYAD, to GTFO--
To GTFO--Perchance to show tits: ay, there's the rub,
For in that TITS or GTFO of Camwhores what tits may come
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause to fap. There's the respect
That make calamity of too long stickies.
For who would bear the whips and scorns of Anonymous,
Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud Moot's contumely
The pangs of poorly chosen stickies, the mod's delay,
The insolence of tripfags, and the spurns
That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,
When WT Snacks himself might his quietus make
With a bare Bopkin? Who would fardels pedobear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary loli,
But that the dread of something after refresh,
The undiscovered fad, from whose bourn
No /b/tard returns, puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than fly to other forums that we know not of?
Thus Bridget doth make faggots of us all,
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is stickied o'er with pale cast of thought,
And enterprise of great pitch and moment
With this regard their currents turn awryyyyyyyyyyy
And lose the name of DONATE TO 4CHAN. -- Soft you now,
The fair Cockmongler! --Nymph, in thy orifices
Be all my posts remembered.
-then the thread died, and there was much rejoicing.
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If Google is the brain of the internet, then /b/ is certainly the large intestine. Information, having been digested of useful content into the rest of the body, is waste left to congeal in /b/. It clumps together, sticky and festering and green, ready to explode in a heaving diuretic shit into the mouths of whoever wants it. WE want it, of course. We are the limbless corprophagics eeling about on the filthy floor, burying our faces into the holy defecation of our blind idiot god, letting it suffocate us in its putrification. It turns us on so much, our cocks stiffen as we revel in the shit, and we scrape them against that decrepid floor, but we can't get off, can we? We keep trying to fuck the floor, and slurp the sliming turds into our throats, but it doesn't work, and we just crawl around looking for the next big kick - the next thing that's supposed to let us fill that feces stained floor with our semen and our blood and our sweat and our vomit. I like kittens.
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EARTH'S LAST CITY, OLYMPUS, ROSE FROM THE ASHES OF A GLOBAL WAR ON THE BACKS OF BIOROIDS, ARTIFICIAL CLONES WHO MAKE UP HALF THE CITY'S POPULATION. UNDER THE STRICT GUIDANCE OF A SUPERCOMPUTER, HUMANITY'S LAST SURVIVORS ENJOY AN IDYLLIC PEACE, BUT ONLY ON THE SURFACE... HUMAN TERRORISTS WITHIN THE MILITARY SEEK A RETURN TO POWER AND CLASH WITH THE GOVERNMENT'S ES.W.A.T. FORCES LED BY THE LEGENDARY SOLDIER, DEUNAN KNUTE AND HER BOYFRIEND WHO IS 75% MACHINE.
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Ever get the feeling you are going nowhere in life, and really dont want to bother? The last 4 years I have been in a constant state of depression. I dont know if i can call it that, it is more of a state of constant thinking. I cant really be happy with anything because it is so temporary.
I really want to die, but cant figure out why I havent killed myself yet. Nothing is entertaining. Video games for a large part have become pointless distractions, my work is boring and pathetic as myself. I am 5'5" and 100 pounds, very skinny. I am too self concious to wear anything besides drab colored clothes, because I really dislike looking in a way that could draw any attention to myself. Conversations with people in person are horrible for me. I am a fine conversationalist and can keep people occupied indefinately with shitty idle arguements and ideas leading nowhere.
I just dont see the point in any of this, why exist?
Is our only point in life to reproduce then die? I feel it is, and I cant shake this feeling during every instant of every day. We are cursed with this state of non-existence and it is a tragedy that everything that we are ceases with our death. I personally dont want to adapt to cicumstances and become a different person. I like who I am, A broody depressed 17 year old. Every single day I dont want to wake up, I sleep 14 hours and I would sleep the entire day if I wasnt forced to go to school. Does anyone else feel like this? I am absurdly bored with everything, and would like another distraction...I spend most of the day online. I need to live a little. I do not know what to do. I know that in a few years this will pass and I will not give a shit but I feel bad.
Name:
VIPPER2006-02-28 19:25
While browsing through the manga and sci-fi books at Barnes & Noble came upon a hot chick reading and anime magazine. Naturally, this was relevant to my interests, so I kept my eye on her from the end of the aisle. Then the craziest thing happened... While reading her magazine I heard her mutter, "Heh heh, don't cry bosnian kid."
Of course I was shocked... I wanted to say something but I didn't know what to say. I could have misunderstood her, plus I wasn't sure if I wanted her to know I come to /b/ since I like to remain Anonymous. Well, I had an idea, so I got a little closer to her and picked up the same mag she was looking at (Animerica), and said loud enough so that she could hear, "I see what you did there." She immediately looked at me with a puzzled look on her face. I was SO embarrassed I was about to leave, when she said, "O RLY?" I looked at her and said, "YA RLY. In soviet Russia, we do our shopping on Caturday." She says, "Really? Hope you got 10 BUX." I laughed and said, "How do you know about this? There's no girls on the interbutt!" She said, "Don't cry bosnian kid, chicks dig /b/-tards too!" Then we both laughed.
We talked about other things for a bit, I asked her what was her other favorite part of 4-chan besides /b/ and she told me she was into /e/ and u/, with a little /h/ now and then! I was thinking how this was too good to be true! I asked if she wanted to sit and get some coffee at the StarBUX in the store and she said, "As long as it's not bubble coffee. It is made of ass and poo." I LOL'd which made a few heads turn. She asked if I was an elitist tripcode faggot, and I said, "NO U?" Hehehe. We talked about other things too, I said "Sauce please" and we exchanged e-mail and our #'s and stuff. I asked her what she was doing this weekend, and she told me that after Raptor Jesus church tomorrow we could get together for lunch. I was shocked and said, "You just made me one happy weeaboo!" We laughed. On the way out she looked back at me, winked and said, "Call me! You gonna get raped!" To which I replied, "FOR THE HORDE!"
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I came home from a rather different day at work. I'm a guidance counselor at a highschool, and I usually spend the day doing lame college applications work and acting as a bloody gopher for all the older counselers, but today the Vice principal asked me to talk to two girls who were having issues.
Of course, that's the school psychiatrist's job, so I asked why I had to talk to them.
Apparently, both of them had just come from South Africa, and they retained quite a bit of their racist attitudes. Bringing them to see the black psychiatrist would be more counterproductive than useful, and since all the older guidance counselers actually had something important to do (doubtfully, but chances are more important than what I was doing) I was to sit with them and explain a few things.
The older sister had apparently slapped a black student who had made a comment on her hair, and the younger one took that as a sign to attack the student. Apparently, she hit him in the face with a textbook several times before slamming his head into a wall.
As a proffessional, I had to nod solemnly as the VP explained what had happened. But secretly, you all have to admit that that's kind of cool.
When they came into my office (desk, really), they were calm, composed, almost aloof. And hot.
Like, swedish super model hot. Now, this may be a bad way to be thinking as a proffesional, but it's just the facts. And I'm pretty sure the older one is of age. ^_^
I started by asking them to tell me their side of the story. The older one started chattering away, about how how the "mooka" (their version of saying bix nood) had said something or other, and something or what not, and bla bla bla, and all I could think about is why the younger one had bigger tits than the older one. She was definitely a D cup. And not modest about them at all, judging by the shirt she was wearing. While B girl kept chattering like a fucking monkey, D just sat silent, staring at me. I changed the subject to asking them about their old school, what they liked, how they liked America, and other chit-chat stuff, in order to be more friendly with them before I started to preach. In the back of my mind, I had the thought that I was probably feeling the same kind of emotions right then that a Date rapist does as he "gets to know" his victim. I dismissed such thoughts.
After about half an hour, I then started to tell them the old aphorisms of violence is wrong and acceptance and that stuff, but B just began to argue, explaining that their parents would say the same things and not mean a single word, and that I myself probably didn't wholly believe in what I was preaching.
Rather than admit anything, I tried to explain that there were just some things you can and can't do. Like fucking up some kid so the janitors had to quickly wash the blood off a wall. Then D actually said something other than a short response to my questions. "Why are we here?"
"BECAUSE YOU TRIED TO KILL A KID, YOU SEXY SADO BITCH!"
...was what I would have liked to have said. But I calmly explained that America was different from South Africa, and that they would have to learn to be more tolerant and less violent. I then scheduled them to see me next week for another chat, since I felt that there were some issues to be resolved.
Oh, /B/, what should I do?
Name:
VIPPER2006-02-28 19:27
I am gonna stop now. My copypasta folder has over 1000 entries so, wel, it was nice fighting yo
Name:
VIPPER2006-02-28 19:30
No I am not holding a grudge here but I tried
playing the Mr. Nice Guy stuff and I trusted
everyone, I let people borrow money from me,
I told almost anyone personal information to
show I wanted friends.
I was backstabbed as a Ki Teacher, I was used
as a lender of money, I was stolen from as giving
friends things to borrow.
I have very few friends I can trust. And I can even
list the ones I do trust with all my soul that have
never failed me:
God
Jesus Christ
Gabriel
Michael
Chris Valdez
Joshua Wilson
Joshua McCollough
Kenneth Collins
Katelina
Sonic
Knuckles
Bunny
Kai Koro
And yes I have many more that I cannot list right
now, but let me tell you right now there have been
many traitors also and for their sake and safety, and
in case this journal ever got into the wrong hands of
one that uses a personal auto-biographical journal
to accuse me, I will not mention them.
It can be difficult to tell sometimes if a lobster is actually DOA (Dead On Arrival), or just sluggish after the long trip from Boston. One good test is to touch the lobster’s eye and watch for movement (gross, but true). If there are no signs of life, don’t give up yet! You may have heard otherwise, but we know that a lobster does not have to be alive at the moment you are cooking it in order to still be good. It is more a matter of the temperature at which the lobster has been kept, and the length of time that has passed, that determines whether it is still good. So how are you to know what to do?
Name:
VIPPER2006-11-13 17:45
Last night, I had trouble sleeping. Something was bothering me, but I just couldn't pin down what it was. After some struggle, I finally gave in to fatigue and fell asleep.
In a dream, I saw a girl walking uphill and away from me. She wore a short pleated skirt, a red shirt with a white collar, and a hat (sorta like the kind you might see in a barbershop quartet). I ran up to her without thinking, saying, "Tsukishima! Tsukishimaaa!" She turned around for a moment to give me a friendly glance, and I felt like it was okay to walk along with her.
It was a warm and breezy day. She seemed to have a lot on her mind. I was thinking of saying what a nice day it was, but she spoke first: "Do you think I'm too old to be watching anime?"
I wanted to tell her: "Of course you're not too old!" But she looked at me so earnestly, and I suddenly felt like it would have been unjust to dismiss her concern with anything less than a well-considered opinion. So I said, "At the top of this hill, there's a temple with a statue of Kannon that's supposed to be able to answer all questions. Why don't we try a visit?"
When we got to the top, there was courtyard and garden with a small temple in the middle. We took off our shoes and entered the sanctuary, but instead of the statue of the goddess, there was a very overweight cat sitting on the platform.
"What? Where's the goddess?" I said. "What is this fat-ass cat doing here?"
"Shh!" Tsukishima gave me a pinch. "Don't be disrespectful!"
The cat said, "Yes, the goddess is without form. Now ask your question. I'm busy, as you can see."
"I'm too nervous," Tsukishima whispered to me. "You'd better ask the question."
I cleared my throat and spoke to the cat: "It seems to me that nothing lasts forever. People grow old and die. The things we love (even anime) seem to lose their luster and decay with time. But is there a beauty which never fades? Is it really possible to treasure something forever?"
The cat didn't appear to be taking me seriously at all. He spent the whole time licking his paws. Finally, he said, "I'm just a cat. How am I supposed to know anything about those things?" Pointing to an altar at the side of the platform, he said, "Offer some incense to the goddess, and maybe she will enlighten you."
Tsukishima and I approached the altar and looked for some incense sticks, but all we found was a box of Pocky. There was also a censer and a box of matches, so we just shrugged and started lighting the Pocky sticks. This didn't take very long, because the flames ate up each stick with a sudden hiss like a bottle rocket might make.
"That went pretty quick," said the cat. "I guess the offering was acceptable. Well, I better be going now."
"Where are you going?" asked Tsukishima.
"Wherever you are, of course."
So the cat trotted out of the temple, and we followed. We followed him out of the courtyard and onto a stone path. After a while, we lost track of where we were. We weren't even sure whether we were on the hill anymore. To be honest, we were so busy keeping up with the cat that we didn't pay any attention to where we were or where we were going.
We began to jog at a fairly fast pace, so I took hold of Tsukishima's hand, and that seemed to make the both of us feel more secure and connected. But I still felt like looking in her direction every now and then, just to make sure she was still with me. Each time I looked, her appearance didn't really change, but she somehow seemed more and more beautiful.
As we ran, I kept looking at her more often, but her eyes were always on the cat. Our steps felt lighter and lighter, until I suddenly looked at our feet and found we were running on air, high above the city. I was so surprised that I let go of her hand. The cat was nowhere to be seen, and Tsukishima only smiled back at me. She looked the same as before, except she had cat ears and whiskers, and she raised her hand in a gesture of blessing just like some of the images of Kannon that I'd seen before.
That was when I woke up from the dream. Later in the day, I watched some anime. I also had some Pocky. I don't know why it tasted so good.
I hope you are still reading this. You got yourself out of a bad situation, but you must think this is funny. When you die, you are going to BE THAT RESTARTED BOY and SUFFER the way he suffered, you SOCIOPATH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I hope you are still reading this. You got yourself out of a bad situation, but you must think this is funny. When you die, you are going to BE THAT RESTARTED BOY and SUFFER the way he suffered, you SOCIOPATH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
What the... THAT ISN'T EVEN A REAL STORY! If you're going to make a meme about Pokémon please for internet's sake don't use it for PR0N. What you say?! Don't call me a new-"fag." The anonymous nature of 4-chan has potential to be better than this... If you're going to talk ABOUT PR0N, then why don't you just center it AROUND PR0N?! The way you USE 4-chan could be better, and I'm hardly surprised Serebii's had enough of you. Lolcats is the best example of GOOD use of 4-chan. Do more of that and it [could] be a better place.
What happened? Well, I was biking down to the convenience store for some Worcestershire sauce because I was gonna make hamburgers. When I got to the intersection, some old dumbass who was probably a drunk plowed into me. Last thing I remember was my head hitting a wall and splitting open. It was the worst thing I've ever felt.
A second later, I was in this shitty apartment with a black ball at the end. I had to sit there for a while just to get my composure. That was when >>1 began to "scan" in. It's hard to describe but it was like his body was being printed out in 3D. I dunno how he died, but when he came in, his cock was out and there were bruises on his neck.
So, it turns out we've been brought back from death to hunt aliens that will destroy our world. But the thing is, I don't think they brought >>1 back all the way. He talks to himself when we go on missions, and cries for no reason. He didn't know how to use the guns and had to be shown, and he forgot several times. I bet that black sphere gave him fuckin' brain damage when it brought him back. I worry he's gonna turn his gun on us one day.
Anyway, I'm asking you to be nice to >>1. We already took heavy losses on the last mission, and his mind can't take much more strain.
Peace.
Name:
VIPPER2011-05-01 1:35
cool story bro
Name:
VIPPER2011-05-01 4:25
Do you have CONTEMPT
for the ROYAL WEDDING?
If so, congratulations! You’ve got some self-respect and intelligence, and hopefully some class consciousness!
Or are you CELEBRATING?
If so, you are a MORON.
Do you think the billionaire parasites give a damn about you and your family?
Do you think and act as if you actually know these rich scum?
As if they’re members of your own family? As if you “hope the day goes well for them”?
If so, stop doing and thinking what ‘Sir’ says!
Turn off your TV! Right now! See whether you can!
If you’ve got a Union Jack, burn it! Think for yourself!
“Britain” is a “brand”, like Coca-Cola.
Forget about celebrities of all kinds! You DON’T know them!
They have nothing but CONTEMPT for people like us.
You should have CONTEMPT for them too.
Stop thinking the money-grabbing blood-drenched ruling class and its paid puppets speak for the whole of society.
Stop thinking moneylenders “help” you by “giving” you money!
Stop thinking the ruling class who are making your life worse and worse every day have your best interests in mind, and are concerned to “look after” you.
The reality is: it will soon be REVOLUTION or FAMINE.
Every word a politician (or anyone else on the TV) says is a LIE.
So is every word said by an employer, manager, or other hierarchical authority or ‘professional’, or landlord, etc.
They think you’re SCUM!
Thinking what ‘Sir’ tells you to think is a DISEASE!
Turn off your TV before it’s too late!
Name:
VIPPER2011-05-23 21:58
Hai
Name:
VIPPER2011-05-24 0:59
thx op i came so hard my dick split open and wasps flew out and stung my mom 9/11