Paste things without contexts

If someone Asks though you must explain. Though you may reply with a truth or lie and they get to try to figure it out.

WHAT THE FUCK RICHARD?!?!

Death is an illusion and so are pants

What?

"Good. And Ed I wanted to tell you one thing… No more reading any fanfiction on vampires."
"Why, it is good." I complained.
"Because most of that stuff is not true and also you are a real vampire so why do you need it."
"I don't know… but can I read twilight still."
"I really don't care, just meet me downtown in an hour."
"Fine, I will." I sighed as I watched him walk out the door. Maybe I should start getting ready now. But I do have a whole hour and I guess I do have some time to kill, I think as I walk over to my computer sit down at my desk and start reading a bit more fanfiction.

"Lysander Dumont," Rosalind announced to the crowd, "will be dueling against Ronan Carinter." Lysander gave a small gasp. Ronan was easily a head taller than him and likely in his twenties already. He desperately searched the crowds for Ayla, his eyes pleading her to stop this madness. She looked worried, stood huddled close to Carrie and to Adalia, but made no move to stop the duel. He forced himself to trudge into the arena, where Ronan stared at him from across the yards of sand between them, which was both too much for him to sprint across and too little for him to have time to devise a plan. A bell rang out and suddenly Ronan charged forward, drawing his sword. Lysander managed a parry, the clash of the swords sending a shiver through his bones. Ronan struck again, this time knocking Lysander flat on his backside. He bounced right back up, swinging out at Ronan in a vain attempt to phase him before Ronan dug the tip of his sword right above Lysander's knee. Lysander let out a small whimper and swung back, his sword barely grazing Ronan's bicep. The older man barely seemed to register the small injury and slashed Lysander across the forearm. Lysander yelped as his sword dropped from his hand and drew his arm close to his chest.

"Do you give up yet?" Ronan sneered. He should. He should give up, acknowledge that he couldn't win this. Lysander steeled himself against the gnawing critiques and picked up his sword with his other hand, swinging wildly at Ronan. Every staggering step made pain shoot through his knee, every wayward slash sending a tremor through him, but he kept moving. Ronan struck forward, the flat of his blade slamming into Lysander's chest. The boy fell to the ground again, one hand pressed against his ribs, his pale green eyes steeped in determination. He stood up once more, now pained by every labored breath. He'd be covered in bruises and cuts tomorrow, but if he won this fight, if he could prove himself….it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He made the mistake to pause, to imagine how proud Ayla would be of him when he won, and let his guard down. Which gave Ronan the perfect chance to knock him to the ground yet again. He heard a sickening crack as Ronan's sword collided with his chest for the second time, heard the noise before he felt the pain. He didn't try to get up this time, just curled into a small ball in the sand. Ronan stood above him, his sword still raised.

"Please," Lysander whispered, and Ronan ignored him, knocking him out with a swift blow to the head.

He wasn't out for long, and when he looked back up, Ronan looked prepared to do it again. He raised his sword above his head, and Lysander's breathing quickened, tears forming in his eyes. He wasn't sure how much more he could take, both of the public humiliation and the pain. Every breath was agony, and blood seeped into the sand from the gashes in his leg and forearm. He squeezed his eyes almost shut, the tears sliding down his face, curled his legs closer to his throbbing chest. He caught a glimpse of sun reflecting off of the blade of Ronan's sword as it began its descent, but a regal voice called out.

"That is enough!" Ayla shouted, storming towards them both. "I don't care if this is some competition, you've beaten the boy badly enough already!" She knelt beside him, wrapped her arm around him. "Leave my apprentice alone." All of the tears Lysander had been holding back came then, the near-convulsive sobbing spreading agony through his chest, but he didn't care. It was over.

Ronan left in a huff, and Ayla gingerly lifted Lysander to his feet.

"Thank you," he whispered, avoiding her gaze.

"It was merely my job, Lysander."

"Even now?" He asked, louder than he would've liked. "Even now that I lost? I made a fool of myself, and you'll keep me as an apprentice?"

"Rosalind made a fool of you. You did as well as I would have expected you to," Ayla answered. Lysander frowned to himself. All of his studying, all of the training and practice he had put in, and she had still expected him to lose? His expression must have said as much, because Ayla smiled at him.

"Ronan is a very skilled member of the guard. He's fought by Rosalind's side since she was a mercenary. You may not have won, but you demonstrated an important piece of your training."

"What piece? That I'm above average at being utterly humiliated?"
"No," Ayla said, and Lysander had the feeling she was talking to the both of them, "That you can take a beating and still bounce back up. Now let's have your injuries tended to."

What?

Yes

C'mon, what's a little platonic lap dance between friends?

"Come on! The idea here was to not be arrested." - Me
"Yeah, with you there is always a chance of being arrested." - My Friend

Decay exists as an extant form of life

"Limp wasn't in the bathroom." -A kid at school

"Now, Limp, settle down and listen." -My teacher.

“Can we go one day without having twenty hours of homework?” -MY FRIEND

“With Mrs. Frizzle, NO WAY” -ME

Well, there goes my ovaries. Sighs

I don't remember drinking my orange juice." -My Friend
"I don't either….. Orange juice pixies." - Me
11:30PM

I want to marry your right leg

"ЭТО НЕ МОЙ ВЕЛОСИПЕД!"

(Note: I wouldn’t uncover this if I were you. Severe gore and messed up stuff ahead… Copy/pasted from Wikipedia because I like creeping people out. Also because the last part of the letter is a backwards message in the song Secrets Of Wysteria Does this note count as context?)

(Note: I wouldn’t uncover this if I were you. Severe gore and messed up stuff ahead… Copy/pasted from Wikipedia because I like creeping people out. Also because the last part of the letter is a backwards message in the song Secrets Of Wysteria Does this note count as context?)

Spoiler - click to show.

My dear Mrs Budd, In 1894 a friend of mine shipped as a deck hand on the steamer Tacoma, Capt John Davis. They sailed from San Francisco to Hong Kong China. On arriving there he and two others went ashore and got drunk. When they returned the boat was gone. At that time there was a famine in China. Meat of any kind was from $1 to 3 Dollars a pound. So great was the suffering among the very poor that all children under 12 were sold to the Butchers to be cut up and sold for food in order to keep others from starving. A boy or girl under 14 was not safe in the street. You could go in any shop and ask for steak – chops – or stew meat. Part of the naked body of a boy or girl would be brought out and just what you wanted cut from it. A boy or girls behind which is the sweetest part of the body and sold as veal cutlet brought the highest price. John staid there so long he acquired a taste for human flesh. On his return to N.Y. he stole two boys one 7 one 11. Took them to his home stripped them naked tied them in a closet then burned everything they had on. Several times every day and night he spanked them – tortured them – to make their meat good and tender. First he killed the 11 yr old boy, because he had the fattest ass and of course the most meat on it. Every part of his body was cooked and eaten except Head – bones and guts. He was roasted in the oven, (all of his ass) boiled, broiled, fried, stewed. The little boy was next, went the same way. At that time I was living at 409 E 100 St, rear – right side. He told me so often how good human flesh was I made up my mind to taste it. On Sunday June the 3 – 1928 I called on you at 406 W 15 St. Brought you pot cheese – strawberries. We had lunch. Grace sat in my lap and kissed me. I made up my mind to eat her, on the pretense of taking her to a party. You said Yes she could go. I took her to an empty house in Westchester I had already picked out. When we got there, I told her to remain outside. She picked wild flowers. I went upstairs and stripped all my clothes off. I knew if I did not I would get her blood on them. When all was ready I went to the window and called her. Then I hid in a closet until she was in the room. When she saw me all naked she began to cry and tried to run down stairs. I grabbed her and she said she would tell her mama. First I stripped her naked. How she did kick – bite and scratch. I choked her to death then cut her in small pieces so I could take my meat to my rooms, cook and eat it. How sweet and tender her little ass was roasted in the oven. It took me 9 days to eat her entire body. I did not fuck her, though, I could of [sic] had I wished. She died a virgin.

WHY THE FUCK IS THIS HERE AND WHY DID I READ IT

WHY THE HOLY HELL DID WE NEED TO READ THAT

Excuse my pottymouth but what the holy hell

(Note: I wouldn’t uncover this if I were you. Severe gore and messed up stuff ahead… Copy/pasted from Wikipedia because I like creeping people out. Also because the last part of the letter is a backwards message in the song Secrets Of Wysteria Does this note count as context?)

Spoiler - click to show.

My dear Mrs Budd, In 1894 a friend of mine shipped as a deck hand on the steamer Tacoma, Capt John Davis. They sailed from San Francisco to Hong Kong China. On arriving there he and two others went ashore and got drunk. When they returned the boat was gone. At that time there was a famine in China. Meat of any kind was from $1 to 3 Dollars a pound. So great was the suffering among the very poor that all children under 12 were sold to the Butchers to be cut up and sold for food in order to keep others from starving. A boy or girl under 14 was not safe in the street. You could go in any shop and ask for steak – chops – or stew meat. Part of the naked body of a boy or girl would be brought out and just what you wanted cut from it. A boy or girls behind which is the sweetest part of the body and sold as veal cutlet brought the highest price. John staid there so long he acquired a taste for human flesh. On his return to N.Y. he stole two boys one 7 one 11. Took them to his home stripped them naked tied them in a closet then burned everything they had on. Several times every day and night he spanked them – tortured them – to make their meat good and tender. First he killed the 11 yr old boy, because he had the fattest ass and of course the most meat on it. Every part of his body was cooked and eaten except Head – bones and guts. He was roasted in the oven, (all of his ass) boiled, broiled, fried, stewed. The little boy was next, went the same way. At that time I was living at 409 E 100 St, rear – right side. He told me so often how good human flesh was I made up my mind to taste it. On Sunday June the 3 – 1928 I called on you at 406 W 15 St. Brought you pot cheese – strawberries. We had lunch. Grace sat in my lap and kissed me. I made up my mind to eat her, on the pretense of taking her to a party. You said Yes she could go. I took her to an empty house in Westchester I had already picked out. When we got there, I told her to remain outside. She picked wild flowers. I went upstairs and stripped all my clothes off. I knew if I did not I would get her blood on them. When all was ready I went to the window and called her. Then I hid in a closet until she was in the room. When she saw me all naked she began to cry and tried to run down stairs. I grabbed her and she said she would tell her mama. First I stripped her naked. How she did kick – bite and scratch. I choked her to death then cut her in small pieces so I could take my meat to my rooms, cook and eat it. How sweet and tender her little ass was roasted in the oven. It took me 9 days to eat her entire body. I did not fuck her, though, I could of [sic] had I wished. She died a virgin.

Oof

…I realize that needs some context

Albert Fish was a serial killer, known mostly for the murder of 10-year-old Grace Budd. That twisted letter you just read was something he wrote and sent to Grace’s mother…

…I realize that needs some context

Albert Fish was a serial killer, known mostly for the murder of 10-year-old Grace Budd. That twisted letter you just read was something he wrote and sent to Grace’s mother…

I was wondering if that was real. I have heard of that guy before.

Gay spa goers?

reddit king ghidorah costume

I have emailed you previously and well that was 5 days ago. Though the first email was from 9 days ago. You say that you will respond in 1-2 business days. Though it has been longer. I am worried for you. Are you alright? When are you coming back? Honey I love you. I don't care what you did. Even though you did eat all of the ice cream. Though I forgive you. Please come back to me. Please respond. I hope you're not avoiding me. I'm sorry for what I did 2 months and 12 days ago. I thought you forgave me. Please, Please come back sweety. I promise to make it right. I promise to only buy from you and I will avoid Hot Topic from now on. I am forever sorry. I wish to see you soon.

I love and miss you so so much

"This wall is my bitch"- my friend