the ‘$1000 to go to Hawaii’ bride, the ‘I bought a $99 polygraph on amazon’ lady, or the ‘why was $200 so huge’ birthday girl
a lot of people seem to be confused and think the hawaii bride and the polygraph lady are the same but they’re actually 2 separate people so here’s all 3 in one go
the “$1500 to go to hawaii” bride
Ms Polygraph Test
$200 birthday
bask in the unfiltered nonsense of it all
since someone mentioned this and I had forgotten, a last minute entry fighter: “Squire Sebastian” lady
New to the arena, Kristie and her surprise wedding
I thought things couldn’t get more horrifyingly amusing than the woman who wanted people to pay $1000 each to go to her wedding so she could “feel like a Kardashian for a day” and had a Facebook breakdown about it saying she was gonna go backpacking in Peru to “find herself” after being “betrayed” by her friends who didn’t want to partake but here we are
I thought it was the same person ngl.
I’m in the wedding shaming group and saw both this and the Peru post before it went viral. Love it.
THERE’S AN UPDATE
Stephanie is a true hero.
my favorite thing about this update is that the fact that we are even SEEING this means there’s AT LEAST one other snitch in the party that she hasn’t caught yet
I was checking out at Walmart, and as I was reaching for my bags I said, “Happy Holidays!” And the cashier leaned in like she was sharing a secret and said “Merry Christmas.” So I smiled politely and said, “Blessed Yule!” And the look that spread across her face, you would have thought I’d literally stolen Christmas from her.
If you’re going to make a point of wishing me a happy whatever-you-celebrate, I’m going to make a point of wishing you a happy whatever-I-celebrate, and if you think that’s wrong you should consider getting “hypocrite” tattooed across your forehead.
It’s that time of year again
A post I made has officially become an “it’s that time of year again” post and I would be lying if I said I wasn’t honored
Remember “Happy Holidays ” is not “Political Correct ” its just fucking nice.
It’s just good manners to say “Happy Holidays”, and I say that as a Christian who celebrates Christmas. I also start saying “Happy Holidays” around Thanksgiving and keep saying it until New Years. There are a lot of different holidays celebrated in that time frame, and if you are not personally acquainted with someone it is only polite to use the most inclusive language. And on top of that telling someone to “be merry” is extolling them to get drunk. Bet you most of those holier-than-thou “Merry Christmas”-ers don’t know that little nugget. Telling someone someone “Happy Holidays” is only encouraging them to “be glad on this holy day”. So Happy Holidays, Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Blessed Yule, and have a Happy New Year!
write a story about how you became the world’s most powerfull person… by accident.
You learn about the butterfly effect in school. The concept is interesting, but not so interesting that you don’t fall asleep partway through the movie. You hear something distantly about a butterfly beating its wings and hurricanes. You think it will never apply to you.
You know now (not then) that power comes through and from favors.
If you had known that then you would probably not have done so many.
(This is where it starts.)
One.
There is a strange creature crossing the road behind the lecture hall. You stop on your bike and frown at it. It looks a little like a turtle, but it’s limbs are longer than any turtle you’ve ever seen. It’s stretched out on the hot asphalt, long, pale limbs clawing forward towards the small stream that runs on the other side.
You hop off your bike and gently pick the creature up, hands under the belly of the shell like you learned from the internet.
Imagine your surprise when the shell slides off the creature instead, dropping a tiny woman onto the asphalt.
“Water,” she croaks, tiny eyes screwed shut. Her eyelids are the size of yours which means they’re huge on her. “Please.”
(You will not know until later what exactly please means to the fae.)
You feel yourself move through your shock. You pick her up and take her to the water’s edge. She slips under the surface, pale skin flashing like the scales of a fish, and she’s gone.
You’d wonder if your roommate slipped you something this morning if she wasn’t back a moment later, pushing a small rock into your hands.
“A boon,” she says. Her eyes are large and black, suited for her underwater world. “For a favor.” She smiles, showing teeth jagged and sharp like a piranha.
When you blink, she’s gone.
You stare at the rock in your left hand. It’s smooth and worn from years in water, an interesting swirl of granite and quartz. “I wish I knew,” you tell it.
The rock ices over so fast that you don’t have time to drop it. The frost swirls across your skin, burning you where it touches, and you watch in horror as your skin turns a mottled black and blue.
You fall to your knees from the pain and choke on a scream as the stone sinks into you, touching your bones and sending more ice through your marrow. It climbs up your arm and touches your eye, changing you vision so now that you’re see double, a strange, blue world juxtaposed next to the one you know and love.
so i lent my cousin bloodborne, he speaks a little english but he has some trouble reading it, i figured he’d be fine since he plays RPGs and all you really need to understand is numbers going up
so i asked him how its going, and he’s telling me hes stuck on father gascione, and cleric beast gave him hours of trouble. i was like “oh damn at least you beat it tho, gascione is really a test of how good you are at the gun parrys” -“…gun parries?” – yeah! omg, if you shoot something right before it attacks you’ll like stun it for a big hit, im sorry i shouldve told you -“guns?? you get guns in this game?” – yeah..you get the gun along with your main weapon – “????”
so my cousin beat the cleric beast and everything between that and gascione with his bare fucking fists and he’s been under the impression that the game is just really hardcore
“I’ve NEVER. Eaten a DONUT. In my ENTIRE LIFE. And I’mNOT. About to start NOW.”
-Crazy customer I had today, upon being offered a complimentary donut
Why is this a real thing that happened in the real world what’s the meaning of this
I’m just gonna copy paste the story here from discord because honestly the whole story is worth hearing
so lady comes through drive thru. “Hi what can I get for you?” “A sesame bagel with extra cream cheese.” “A sesame bagel with extra cream cheese, sure no problem, can I get you anything else today?” “No” “Alright, you can pull up” and I just hear this quiet disgrunted “ ‘Please’ ?”
I’m like uhhhhh, was that even directed at me, I don’t know, I don’t know how to respond to that so I just ignore it like I didn’t hear it. I go up to the window and see this woman, which she honestly looked like a tomato with messy gray hair. Before I have the window halfway open I see her roll her eyes at me so I’m like oh boy here we go, time to put on the stupid sweet customer voice
“Hi how are you today?”
She hands me the money for her bagel and goes “Just a tip. It’s ‘Please pull up to the window.’ not ‘pull up.’ I found that incredibly rude.”
I go “I’m sorry about that, I didn’t intend for that to be rude, I just meant that it was okay to pull up to the window now.” “I know what you meant. But it was rude.” “Well, I apologize. Here’s your bagel, have a great day.” She goes “I’m a MYSTERY SHOPPER.” (If you don’t have Mystery shoppers where you are, it’s kind of like undercover boss where the store owner hires someone through the Mystery shopper program and they place a regular order just to make sure people are following policy) I’m like “… ok”
So I’m about to tell my boss and coworker what just happened when she comes in. And I jump to the front counter because no way I’m letting her talk to my boss before I do.
“Hi, can I help you?” “Yes. This bagel was supposed to be NOT toasted. You toasted it.” “Ohh, I’m so sorry about that! I didn’t hear that. I’ll make you a new one right now.” Coworker beats me to the bagel and I say “A little extra cream cheese on that.” She looks at my boss “She just said a LITTLE cream cheese. I wanted EXTRA cream cheese.” Boss goes “Oh, she said a little extra cream cheese.” “Oh”
Boss goes into kiss ass mode as well and says, “I’m sorry about the mistake, would you like a donut?” Lady goes “I’ve never. Eaten a donut. In my ENTIRE LIFE. and I’m NOT. About to start NOW.” Boss is like “… ok” and we’re all internally going sdhakgsdgkja?
So we get the bagel out and she says to my boss “And I have one more thing to say.” She leans in with a sneer. “Mystery shopper.” boss goes “We don’t do that here.” “yea you do.” “No we don’t.” “yea you do.” “Have a good day.”
Basically we’re pretty sure the lady was crazy and she was absolutely lying because Mystery shoppers are not allowed to tell you that they’re mystery shoppers, and they aren’t allowed to coach you. And even if she was, “please” is not one of the things they look for. They look for a Greeting, whether or not you repeated the order and the price back, and whether or not you upsold. We haven’t participated in the program in over 7 years.
Due to the well of my friends’ “def not an axe murderer” date recommendations drying up, I have turned to that most sacred of modern relationship institutions: online dating. As a very busy person trying to get it in with other very busy people, I prize honestly and directness above all else when it comes to profile creation. I include full body shots in my photos, try to minimize the use of MySpace angles in selfies, and write at the very top of the summary/caption/profile that I am fat. Not “curvy,” not “thick,” not “lots to love”–I’m f*cking fat. I’m not ashamed of it, but I also known that weight is a dealbreaker for lots of people. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.
About a year ago I met “Evan” via Tinder. We exchanged friendly messages for a few hours one night and agreed to meet up for drinks the following evening. I waited for a full hour past the designated time, and just as I was getting up to leave, the texts started rolling in.
“I can see you sweating from here.” “How long does it take you to roll out of bed every morning?” “Is there an earthquake or are you just getting up for more pretzels?”
Really idiotic, juvenile shit. Four separate numbers, commenting on things like my clothes, which clued me in that the senders were nearby. This went on for 15 minutes before I finally saw Evan, trying to hide in at a corner table and giggling with a group of buddies. I made eye contact, saw that he saw me, and then walked out. The texts kept up until I blocked the numbers a few hours later.
I ran into Evan about 3 weeks later. We got on the same elevator, and he tried really hard at being super interested in the emergency phone instructions. I just confronted him, and he admitted it was just some “game” that him and his friends play. He knew I was fat before agreeing to meet up; they all did, because that’s what they do. Match up with fat women, then either ghost them or “troll” them at the meet-up. It was also kinda obvious he’d never seen any consequences from this bullshit, as he was sweating pretty hard and looked more humiliated than I felt. I just said whatever and walked out, expecting to never see him again.
About a month ago, some local foodie wrote a great review of the restaurant I own, and we’ve been slammed ever since. In the past, I stayed mostly in the kitchen, but I’ve been doing more and more front-of-house stuff lately, and Valentine’s Day I was working a bit of a split between the two.
I saw Evan just as he was pushing in his date’s chair. My name isn’t on the restaurant, and he didn’t see me. I checked the section up at the hostess stand and saw that one of my favorite old-timers, Nan, was going to be his waitress. I went to the bar till, took out $400, put it in her hands, and said, “This is going to be your only table for the rest of the night. You are going to make this the worst date he has ever been on.”
She spilled every single thing she brought out to the table, all over him. I was waiting for him to blow up on Nan, but he bottled it up, obviously trying to make a good impression on his date. She seemed like a perfectly lovely lady; I told Nan to make sure everything was good for her and terrible for Evan.
She poured ice water on his d*ck. She smacked the back of his head with the edge of a tray. Spilled soup on his shirt. Dropped every fork he asked for. I personally oversalted his food, used the shit liquor for his drinks, used flour instead of sugar on his dessert. To be honest, I don’t know why he didn’t just walk out. He must have really wanted to f*ck this woman.
Finally, he cracked. Demanded Nan find the manager and bring her out. I was only too happy to emerge from the kitchen with my chef’s coat and say what, I’m not ashamed to admit, I’d been planning out all night.
“I would have said hi earlier, but I didn’t want the earthquake to disturb your dinner.”
I will savor the look on Evan’s face for the rest of my life.
He was a little too flummoxed to explain, so I pulled a chair up to the table and introduced myself to his date, Amanda. Told her how I met Evan. Showed her some fun old messages. Then I told gave her a voucher for a free meal on her next visit and told Evan to get the f*ck out and never come back.
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