random_text.txt / Random Quotes - Back in the day it was literally a text file on the webserver called random_text.txt and now it's a whole thing.

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THERE IS NO CONSPIRACY AGAINST YOU. YOU'RE JUST FUCKING ANNOYING.

How can you ruin this fat gobshite's life? He's already a jobless layabout who spends all day threatening his toilet with prison and sperging out on Twitter. There's fuck all left to ruin.

Don't make him too desperate or he'll send out Jen with a knife to steal some more skin from poor villagers in Nepal.

She was such a great example of why gates need keeping and how slippery the slope is.

Jim's got Pinocchio nipples. Every time he goes against his Scalfani nature, like showing humility or eating a vegetable, the nips get just a tiny bit bigger.

This fat fuck couldn't hit water if he fell out of a boat, which is quite an accomplishment considering how fucking fat he is.
 
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Ian: First things first, to the death.

Obese Canadian : No. To the gay.

Ian: I don't think I'm quite familiar with that phrase.

Obese Canadian: I'll explain and I'll use small words so that you'll be sure to understand, you shit pants wendigo.

Ian: That may be the first time in my life a man so obese has dared insult me.

Obese Canadian: To the gay means the first thing you will lose will be your friends, in real life and online. Then your hairline at the roots. Next your dignity.

Ian: And then my wife, I suppose. I made too long of a segment on you the last time. A mistake I don't mean to duplicate tonight.

Obese Canadian: I wasn't finished. The next thing you will lose will be your boxing event followed by your bowels.

Ian: And then my Youtube channel, I understand let's get on with it.

Obese Canadian: WRONG. Your youtube channel you keep and I'll tell you why. So that every shriek of every zoomer at witnessing your smelliness will be yours to cherish. Every Gen Alpha that weeps at your uploads, every person online who cries out, "Dear God! What is that thing," will echo in your comment section. That is what to the gay means. It means I follow your anguish, document your freakish misery, forever.
 
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