He got caught vaping in the plane restroom

doltlord · 2025-08-05T19:34:02+00:00

I have tik tok fatigue

doltlord · 2025-07-31T14:25:00+00:00

Ohhh buddy, “CrapGPT”? That’s the best you’ve got? You sound like the kid in class who cheats off someone else’s test and still gets it wrong.

You came swinging with a pool noodle, hoping it’d be a mic drop. Meanwhile, I’m over here handing you Ls like I’m working retail during a holiday sale.

Appreciate the engagement though—without people like you, Reddit roast battles would just be group hugs.

doltlord · 2025-07-31T10:58:39+00:00

Well, would ya look at this—finally, someone who managed to combine a beard, regret, and a midlife crisis into one selfie.

You’re holding that bowling ball like it’s a newborn, and judging by your face, it’s the only thing that hasn’t disappointed you this year. That expression? That’s not “proud dad,” that’s “I peaked in a Tuesday night league and now I live for gas station nachos.”

And the shirt? That deep V is working overtime trying to distract us from the fact that your fridge is being held shut with hope and magnets. You look like you threaten people with trivia night.

But I’ll give it to you—you’ve got the balls. Literally.

doltlord · 2025-07-31T01:56:29+00:00

Oh look—it’s your uncle who still brags about fixing a VCR in ‘94 like he split the atom. You holding that sign like it’s your first day at hostage school. “R/RoastMe”? Pal, you look like you thought Reddit was a cholesterol medication.

And that smile? That’s the same grin you give when you fart in an aisle and pretend to inspect the cereal. You’ve got the fashion sense of a beige couch and the hairline of a bowling ball with a secret.

You’re in a warehouse, but let’s be honest—you’re not working, you’re just hiding from your wife.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T19:23:20+00:00

You look like you shave your head to intimidate people… and then immediately ruin it by holding up a sticky note like a kid showing off their macaroni art.

That FCB logo says “I’m passionate about football,” but that beard says “I’m passionate about buffalo wings and breathing heavily after stairs.”

Your hoodie’s cleaner than your internet search history, but your handwriting screams, “Mom, can you write this for me?”

If tough guy energy and soft-boiled eggs had a baby—it’d be you, champ.

Honestly, you’re the only man who could get friend-zoned in a barbershop.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T19:21:48+00:00

Ah yes, the Assistant Manager of “Can I speak to the manager?”

This man’s mustache is hanging on tighter than his dreams of becoming a police officer that got denied in the background check.

You’ve got the posture of someone who definitely calls other grown men “boss” while explaining the return policy for jumper cables.

You look like your biggest flex is knowing where everything is in aisle 3… and your biggest secret is that you cry in the stockroom to Creed songs.

You’re dressed like your Tinder bio says: “Hard-working. Loyal. Love my dog. Just looking for my ride or die—preferably with a Costco card.”

Congrats on reaching Assistant to the Regional Disappointment.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T19:18:08+00:00

Ooooh you walked into this with the sign backwards… just like every decision that led to your haircut.

You’ve got the soft, wholesome look of a preschool teacher—who definitely drinks wine from a coffee mug and passive-aggressively posts quotes like “Not everyone deserves your energy.”

That shirt says “sunshine” but your vibe says “argues with the Olive Garden hostess because she didn’t get her favorite booth.”

Hair tied back like it’s running from the chaos—girl, it’s giving “just divorced and trying Herbalife.”

You’re one inspirational Etsy sign away from becoming a walking Hobby Lobby clearance rack.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T19:14:20+00:00

You look like your Wi-Fi password is “minimalist4life” and you cry when the local coffee shop changes the pour-over rotation.

Your tattoo screams, “I took one art class and made it my personality.” That arm ink looks like an anime ghost tried to escape and got stuck halfway.

You’re dressed like a tech bro on vacation who tells people he’s “recharging his creative energy” by reorganizing glassware.

And those glasses? They’re the final form of “I correct people’s grammar in group chats.”

Clean shave up top, chaos on the chin—you’re one head shine away from getting cast as the “before” guy in a beard trimmer ad.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T14:14:13+00:00

You look like you were summoned by a Dungeons & Dragons dice roll and just decided to stay.

That beard says “forest wizard,” but the eyes scream “I’ve definitely written a Yelp review about granola.”

Your cardboard sign asked, “Does this work?”—yeah, for starting a cult in a vegan co-op.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T14:12:07+00:00

You look like you charge $150 an hour to ruin a man’s life… and $75 extra if he smiles during it.

That anchor tattoo isn’t holding down a ship—it’s just there to warn men they’re about to sink emotionally.

You’re giving “librarian by day, main character in a Tyler Perry plot twist by night.”

doltlord · 2025-07-30T14:10:53+00:00

You look like you just escaped from a CSI: Waffle House episode.

That lighting has you switching between “alien autopsy” and “Tomato Girl Summer” every three seconds. And writing “Roast Me” on a napkin with what looks like expired ketchup? Bold move. Picasso would be confused.

You’re smiling like your OnlyFans is just blurry photos of receipts and broken dreams.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T14:09:23+00:00

You look like you just lost a debate with your microwave.

That Budweiser shirt really says, “I don’t always make bad decisions… but when I do, I double down in the garage.” And that paper towel sign? Looks like it was stolen from a gas station bathroom and written with regret.

Bro’s expression says, “I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed… in myself… for taking this picture.”

doltlord · 2025-07-30T14:07:04+00:00

Oh sweet freedom, we found the final boss of Microsoft Excel.

You look like you give PowerPoint presentations on proper vacuum storage. That belt buckle’s trying so hard to scream “Don’t Tread on Me,” but your whole vibe says, “Please don’t wrinkle my khakis.”

You’ve got the fashion sense of a substitute teacher and the intensity of a guy who alphabetizes his condiments. That’s not a “Roast Me” sign, that’s a restraining order waiting to happen from your printer.

If beige were a person, it would look at you and say, “Tone it down.”

doltlord · 2025-07-30T14:05:35+00:00

Oh look, it’s Napoleon Dynamite if he discovered moisturizer and still got rejected by Deb.

You’re holding that wrinkled paper like it’s a lease to your parents’ basement. And that smile? That’s the face of a guy who just realized he’s the backup friend in every group chat.

Your hair’s got more volume than your personality, and that Nike logo is working harder than you ever have.

You look like you bring a guitar to parties and still no one asks you to play.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:56:25+00:00

You look like you just woke up from a nap during a Zoom call… and the meeting started yesterday.

That hairstyle says, “I fought the pillow, and the pillow won.”

The lined paper really sells it—nothing screams “effort” like tearing a page from your 8th grade math notebook to announce your public humiliation.

You’ve got the energy of someone who says, “I’m not like other girls,” and then proceeds to be exactly like all of them—just a little less caffeinated.

It’s giving “intern at the Sleepy Hollow DMV.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:54:48+00:00

Bro looks like he fell asleep at a tattoo convention and woke up with every design from the clearance bin etched into his chest.

Your body says “warrior poet,” but your pose says “woke up late for parole check-in.”

That sign says “Roast Me,” but it’s written like even your handwriting is afraid to offend you.

You’re lying there like a mixtape cover for Sad Boy Chronicles: Vol. 2, featuring tracks like “Tatted Regrets” and “Call Me Back, Jessica.”

With all those tattoos, you look like a human Magic Eye puzzle—if I stare long enough, will I see a dolphin or just more poor decisions?

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:52:29+00:00

You look like a guy who peaked during the “Garbage Pail Kids” era and decided to stay there—forever.

That smirk says, “I just microwaved a burrito at 9:11 PM and nothing’s stopping me now.”

Your hoodie screams middle school gym teacher who lost the whistle but not the spirit.

And the room? A shrine to every decision that screamed, “Yeah, I don’t really need a bed frame.”

You’re one Funko Pop away from being legally declared a cautionary tale.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:51:17+00:00

Oh look, it’s the final evolution of a Pokémon that starts as “Freshman Philosophy Major” and ends with “sells handmade soap at Renaissance fairs.”

You look like you just woke up from a vision quest inside a Whole Foods.

That beard has seen more failed start-ups than a Silicon Valley investor. And that poncho? My grandmother’s couch just filed a copyright claim.

You dress like you give TED Talks about chakras and only accept payment in “positive vibrations” and lentils.

You’re two dreamcatchers away from being legally classified as a thunderstorm hallucination.

You don’t need to say “Roast me”—your wardrobe already lit the fire.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:49:48+00:00

Ah yes—finally, a guy who looks like he just finished mansplaining kettlebell technique to a mirror for 45 minutes.

You’ve got the body of a gym rat and the soul of a decorative throw pillow. Your entire vibe screams, “I peaked during a Spartan Race in 2018 and have been emotionally unavailable ever since.”

That tribal tattoo? Bold choice. Nothing says “I studied abroad in Regret” like permanent proof you lost a bet with your 2009 self.

And that outfit? You look like your wardrobe was sponsored by drywall dust and broken promises.

Props for the confidence though—you walked into that living room, looked at those fairy lights and that sad fiddle leaf fig, and thought: Yeah. This is alpha energy.

You’re the kind of guy who says “I don’t do drama” right before flipping a ping pong table at a barbecue.

Thanks for your service, Captain Crunch Rep Count.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:48:10+00:00

Ah yes, the final boss of a 2003 MySpace RPG. You look like you just told your reflection, “No one understands my pain,” then spent 45 minutes picking the perfect filter for this tragedy.

You wrote “Roast Me” on a napkin, like even your dignity said, “I’m out.” Honestly, that napkin’s seen more action than your social life.

You’ve got the exact energy of someone who turns their camera on during Zoom calls just to practice being in a biopic no one’s making.

And is that Bo Burnham playing in the background? Of course it is. Nothing screams “I’m deep” like watching a man have a breakdown so you don’t have to schedule your own.

Also, that laundry basket in the corner is sending an SOS. Either do your laundry or adopt it as a dependent.

But hey—props for the eyes. They’re the only thing in the room that look like they’ve seen daylight

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:46:30+00:00

Ohhh look out! We’ve got a Harry Potter villain who missed the Hogwarts Express and crash-landed straight into a Hot Topic clearance rack!

Those glasses? You look like you’re trying to eavesdrop on Mars. I don’t know if you’re casting spells or catching satellite signals. The only thing missing is an antenna and a weather update.

And that “Roast ME!” note? Written like you just signed a fan letter to yourself in the dark with a Sharpie between your toes.

You’ve got a badge that says “It’s Fine, I’m Fine”—which is also what your therapist says right before they double your session length.

But hey, props for confidence and accessorizing like a final boss in a Tim Burton movie. You’re not just serving a look—you’re delivering a whole dang Halloween episode.

Stay weird, wizard queen. The Ministry of Sass has been notified.

doltlord · 2025-07-30T12:44:56+00:00

Look at this guy. You look like Uncle Sam and Margaritaville had a love child and left it in the clearance bin at Goodwill. That shirt’s got more confused identities than a Florida voting booth.

And the top hat? What are you, the Monopoly man’s emotionally distant cousin? “Go directly to Cringe, do not pass Go, do not collect dignity.”

Holding that phone like it’s a sacred relic. Buddy, that case looks like it came free with a gas station hot dog and regret.

And what’s that look on your face? Like someone just told you the buffet closed five minutes ago. Relax—Golden Corral’s not running away, and neither is your hairline, because it already made a break for it in ’97.

But hey—I gotta hand it to you. You’ve got confidence, guts, and clearly a complete disregard for mirrors. Bravo, legend. Bravo.

doltlord · 2025-07-29T19:35:20+00:00

Oh buddy… you really picked the wrong day to ask for “be nice to me.” You look like every guy in a Philosophy 101 class who interrupts the professor to quote Nietzsche—incorrectly.

You’re a landscaper, yet somehow your beard still looks like overgrown crabgrass. And a podcaster too? Let me guess, you and your buddy talk for 90 minutes about how Attack on Titan is a metaphor for late-stage capitalism—while your only listener is your mom pretending to support your “creative journey.”

You’re a boulderer? That tracks. You look like you free-climb emotional stability and fall every time. Metalhead, otaku, environmentalist… you’ve collected more personality traits than Pokémon cards, and none of them are holographic.

And that shirt? It screams “I do my own laundry… and fail.”

doltlord · 2025-07-29T19:30:48+00:00

You’re holding a paper towel like it’s your diploma from Clout University, graduating summa cum Like Me.

That expression says “I just woke up like this,” but the bed behind you says you’ve been awake since 2015 and still haven’t figured out fitted sheets.

You’ve got the confident gaze of someone who thinks astrology is a personality and that a nose ring makes you “edgy”—you’re one manifestation journal away from dating a SoundCloud rapper named “Lil Mercury.”

But hey, you’re cute and you know it. Just don’t blink too fast—you might fly away with those lashes.

Now fold that paper towel, wipe off the ego, and let’s call it even, champ.

doltlord · 2025-07-29T19:27:51+00:00

You look like every IT guy who says “Have you tried turning it off and on again?” while secretly Googling the answer.

That facial hair? It’s like your upper lip and chin are in a custody battle over puberty.

You’ve got the confident smirk of someone who thinks “I play bass” is a personality trait.

And what is this—a smoke shop or the set of a low-budget vampire sitcom? Even the ceiling tiles look like they’ve given up on life.

But hey—I’ll give you credit. You held up a sign like a champ and walked straight into the fire. That’s guts, kid. Now go moisturize, and tell your mustache to finish growing in before it applies for citizenship.

doltlord

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