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vain: All the work in vain
vain: All the work in vain

All the work in vain

vain: @oscarewilde i received this comically large pencil as a gift several years ago and my first thought, understandably, was 'what the christ am i meant to do with this?' @oscarewilde the 2nd thought i had was: I'm Quite Certain I Could Ruin Someone's Day With This. And so a while ago i took it in with me to a lecture, hoping against hope that whichever poor Fool was unfortunate enough to sit next to me might have forgotten or misplaced their writing implement @oscarewilde utilising The Pencil is also dependent on the person not using a laptop. So the chances of success are extraordinarily slim, and I've only managed to find suitable candidates three times in all of the dozens of occasions i've had The Pencil on my person @oscarewilde i size up my target, watching them feign patting their pockets in vain for the ballpoint they so obviously left at home, and i wait, i wait for the blessed question.... Do You Have A Pen I Could Borrow? @oscarewilde Oh, i say, 'I'm so sorry; I only have a pencil. That's fine!' i hear them say, distantly now, as the blood is rushing to my ears andican barely hear them. Imaintain a straight face. This is key to the delivery and the final blow @oscarewilde Ireach into my bag for The Pencil. The look of utter dumbfounded misery as i hand it to the victim is unparalleled in its sweetness. In an instant their eyes flicker through the 5 stages of grief, landing on acceptance, as they realise it's This or Nothing @oscarewilde still maintaining that eye contact i smile, only the tiniest fraction, the unspoken words forming between us. 'What are you gonna do now, huh? You feeling lucky, kiddo? Buddy? Buckaroo? You gonna kick up a fuss in this silent lecture theatre? Huh? Or will you take The Pencil? @oscarewilde they Always take the pencil ifynny.co Tap to see the meme
vain: @oscarewilde
 i received this comically large pencil as
 a gift several years ago and my first
 thought, understandably,
 was 'what
 the christ am i meant to do with this?'
 @oscarewilde
 the 2nd thought i had was: I'm Quite
 Certain I Could Ruin Someone's Day
 With This. And so a while ago i took it
 in with me to a lecture, hoping against
 hope that whichever poor Fool was
 unfortunate enough to sit next to me
 might have forgotten or misplaced
 their writing implement
 @oscarewilde
 utilising The Pencil is also dependent
 on the person not using a laptop. So
 the chances of success are
 extraordinarily slim, and I've only
 managed to find suitable candidates
 three times in all of the dozens of
 occasions i've had The Pencil on my
 person
 @oscarewilde
 i size up my target, watching them
 feign patting their pockets in vain for
 the ballpoint they so obviously left at
 home, and i wait, i wait for the blessed
 question.... Do You Have A Pen I Could
 Borrow?
 @oscarewilde
 Oh, i say, 'I'm so sorry; I only have a
 pencil. That's fine!' i hear them say,
 distantly now, as the blood is rushing
 to my ears andican barely hear them.
 Imaintain a straight face. This is key to
 the delivery and the final blow
 @oscarewilde
 Ireach into my bag for The Pencil. The
 look of utter dumbfounded misery as i
 hand it to the victim is unparalleled in
 its sweetness. In an instant their eyes
 flicker through the 5 stages of grief,
 landing on acceptance, as they realise
 it's This or Nothing
 @oscarewilde
 still maintaining that eye contact i
 smile, only the tiniest fraction, the
 unspoken words forming between us.
 'What are you gonna do now, huh?
 You feeling lucky, kiddo? Buddy?
 Buckaroo? You gonna kick up a fuss in
 this silent lecture theatre? Huh? Or will
 you take The Pencil?
 @oscarewilde
 they Always take the pencil
 ifynny.co
Tap to see the meme

Tap to see the meme

vain: thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejorie: gucciballs: thejorie: peble: thejorie: My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed. do they smoke weed? Yes, actually. you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,) They don’t look like they smoke weed. Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad. Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle. I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING  Well that escalated quickly…… What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body* haha oh my god who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes. love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”. and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”. “the goo pile that is now your body” i’m dying over here, jesus please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun. *shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.* this dude playin omg  Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
vain: thejorie:

xilast-zurvifferman:

thejorie:

jackbecq:

thejorie:

19leahjade96:

thejorie:

madamekagamine:

thejorie:

gccgrimm:

thejorie:

gucciballs:

thejorie:

peble:

thejorie:

My three girlfriends.And yes, they smoke weed.

do they smoke weed?

Yes, actually.

you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette? 

It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)

They don’t look like they smoke weed.

Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.Fuck You.I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.

Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.

I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING 

Well that escalated quickly……

What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*

haha oh my god

who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.

love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.

and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.

“the goo pile that is now your body”

i’m dying over here, jesus

please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.

*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot…*leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*

this dude playin omg 

Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still  at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you.  I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.*Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*

thejorie: xilast-zurvifferman: thejorie: jackbecq: thejorie: 19leahjade96: thejorie: madamekagamine: thejorie: gccgrimm: thejor...

vain: @oscarewilde i received this comically large pencil asa gift several years ago and my first thought, understandably, was 'what the christ am i meant to do with this?" 工@oscarewilde. 1d the 2nd thought i had was: I'm Quite Certain I Could Ruin Someone's Day With This. And so a while ago i took it in with me to a lecture, hoping against hope that whichever poor Fool was unfortunate enough to sit next to me might have forgotten or misplaced their writing implement 3 0458 8,741 工@oscarewilde. 1d utilising The Pencil is also dependent on the person not using a laptop. So the chances of success are extraordinarily slim, and I've only managed to find suitable candidates three times in all of the dozens of occasions i've had The Pencil on my person 3 I @oscarewilde 1d i size up my target, watching them feign patting their pockets in vain for the ballpoint they so obviously left at home, and i wait, i wait for the blessed question.... Do You Have A Pen I Could Borrow? I @oscarewilde .1d 'Oh, i say, 'I'm so sorry; I only have a pencil.' 'That's fine!' i hear them say, distantly now, as the blood is rushing to my ears and i can barely hear them. I maintain a straight face. This is key to the delivery and the final blow 5 633 13.8K @oscarewilde 1d I reach into my bag for The Pencil. The look of utter dumbfounded misery as i hand it to the victim is unparalleled in its sweetness. In an instant their eyes flicker through the 5 stages of grief, landing on acceptance, as they realise it's This or Nothing 7 834 14.8K @oscarewilde 10 they Always take the pencil 67 2,088 33.5K prideprejudce:she weaponized her gag gift im crying
vain: @oscarewilde
 i received this comically large pencil asa
 gift several years ago and my first
 thought, understandably, was 'what the
 christ am i meant to do with this?"

 工@oscarewilde. 1d
 the 2nd thought i had was: I'm Quite
 Certain I Could Ruin Someone's Day With
 This. And so a while ago i took it in with
 me to a lecture, hoping against hope that
 whichever poor Fool was unfortunate
 enough to sit next to me might have
 forgotten or misplaced their writing
 implement
 3
 0458 8,741
 工@oscarewilde. 1d
 utilising The Pencil is also dependent on
 the person not using a laptop. So the
 chances of success are extraordinarily
 slim, and I've only managed to find
 suitable candidates three times in all of
 the dozens of occasions i've had The
 Pencil on my person
 3
 I @oscarewilde 1d
 i size up my target, watching them feign
 patting their pockets in vain for the
 ballpoint they so obviously left at home,
 and i wait, i wait for the blessed
 question.... Do You Have A Pen I Could
 Borrow?

 I @oscarewilde .1d
 'Oh, i say, 'I'm so sorry; I only have a
 pencil.' 'That's fine!' i hear them say,
 distantly now, as the blood is rushing to
 my ears and i can barely hear them. I
 maintain a straight face. This is key to
 the delivery and the final blow
 5
 633
 13.8K
 @oscarewilde 1d
 I reach into my bag for The Pencil. The
 look of utter dumbfounded misery as i
 hand it to the victim is unparalleled in its
 sweetness. In an instant their eyes flicker
 through the 5 stages of grief, landing on
 acceptance, as they realise it's This or
 Nothing
 7
 834
 14.8K

 @oscarewilde 10
 they Always take the pencil
 67
 2,088
 33.5K
prideprejudce:she weaponized her gag gift im crying

prideprejudce:she weaponized her gag gift im crying

vain: Care to debate abortion? factori0 kiwianaroha prochoice-or-gtfo motherbychoice Nah Mood This reminds me of a party I went to last year. I was standing with some friends, chatting, and someone said something that indirectly implied that sexism exists. Some trivial recounting of the basic facts of daily life for most women. Something so mild, so uncontroversial, so mundane that I don't even remember what it was Suddenly, this man standing on the outskirts of our conversational circle piped up with "actually, I think men are more discriminated against than women these days." All conversation died l turned to look at him and he had this smug, insufferable grin on his face relishing this moment, expecting us to waste our time and energy refuting this ridiculous thing he had just said The Devil's Advocate was among us And, in my mind, I saw the next 15+ minutes playing out. The parade of facts and statistics in a vain attempt to defend ourselves, our gender, and to prove that misogyny is real. The glib, snide denials from some shithead who is getting off on our pain and frustration. The Gish Gallop of bullshit that would take a whole evening to properly dismantle. It was depressing and overwhelming. I hated it. I had to kill it before it began So looked him dead in the eye and I said "OK," shrugged, and just walked away Nothing I have ever said to another human being has ever been so crushing As I walked away, I watched the smug grin vanish and confusion and anxiety set in. The rest of the group turned their backs to him and carried on as if he had never spoken - as if he was invisible. He was still staring at me when walked over to another friend and told her what he had said. I pointed him out for her and made direct eye contact with him while we both laughed tl;dr: Don't feed the troll. Let it perish, cold and hungry, in the wasteland of your indifference. It is weak and you are strong. Live your best life Trolls dont deserve your attention
vain: Care to debate abortion?
 factori0
 kiwianaroha
 prochoice-or-gtfo
 motherbychoice
 Nah
 Mood
 This reminds me of a party I went to last year. I was standing with some
 friends, chatting, and someone said something that indirectly implied that
 sexism exists. Some trivial recounting of the basic facts of daily life for most
 women. Something so mild, so uncontroversial, so mundane that I don't even
 remember what it was
 Suddenly, this man standing on the outskirts of our conversational circle piped
 up with "actually, I think men are more discriminated against than women
 these days."
 All conversation died
 l turned to look at him and he had this smug, insufferable grin on his face
 relishing this moment, expecting us to waste our time and energy refuting this
 ridiculous thing he had just said
 The Devil's Advocate was among us
 And, in my mind, I saw the next 15+ minutes playing out. The parade of facts
 and statistics in a vain attempt to defend ourselves, our gender, and to prove
 that misogyny is real. The glib, snide denials from some shithead who is
 getting off on our pain and frustration. The Gish Gallop of bullshit that would
 take a whole evening to properly dismantle. It was depressing and
 overwhelming. I hated it. I had to kill it before it began
 So looked him dead in the eye and I said "OK," shrugged, and just walked
 away
 Nothing I have ever said to another human being has ever been so crushing
 As I walked away, I watched the smug grin vanish and confusion and anxiety
 set in. The rest of the group turned their backs to him and carried on as if he
 had never spoken - as if he was invisible. He was still staring at me when
 walked over to another friend and told her what he had said. I pointed him out
 for her and made direct eye contact with him while we both laughed
 tl;dr: Don't feed the troll. Let it perish, cold and hungry, in the wasteland
 of your indifference. It is weak and you are strong. Live your best life
Trolls dont deserve your attention

Trolls dont deserve your attention