So I'm boinking this girl in HS in my friends ritzy house (both his parents were Majors in the AF) and after a few hours...ok, an hour...alright, alright...after a few minutes...fuck you!...seconds, I cum.
Funny huh?
No?
Ok, so for some reason both me and her are looking down waiting for the inevitable(I used the awesome pull out method all through my HS years) and we both get shot in the eye.
That shit burns!
We come down stairs where everyone is partying and I declare I'm taking ole girl home.
We must have looked ridiculous because when I get back to the party my buddy is laughing and says "Why were you both rubbing your eyes when you came down from upstairs? Were you sleeping? And why is your right eye all red?"
Not all that strange or embarrassing, but the age stuff reminded me...
So, my wife looks a bit young for her age - I suppose because she's petite (smokin body btw - 5'2, 100lbs ).
Once upon a time, when we were 19, we decided to catch a movie. Upon attempting to buy the tickets the old lady in the booth asked to see my wife's ID.... ... the movie was rated 14A. I felt a bit pedo after that.
Last year (wife is 25 at the time), we're sitting at home. My wife has just put our baby down for a nap when she hears a knock at the door. Here's what I hear from the other room:
Lady: ".... Umm.. hi.... is your mommy home?"
Wife: "..... ...... .. I... uh.... I own this house."
In the lady's defence, our house is fairly nice in an upscale neighbourhood as we had pretty good money for our age - so we were certainly the youngest home owners in the area, and with the lady going door to door I suppose it was a bit unexpected to see someone that looked young.
EDIT: Oh yeah... My wife got plenty of nasty looks and tongue clucks from dissapproving old ladies back when she was pregnant. Fantastically, she took off her engagement and wedding rings in the 3rd trimester due to hand swelling... I suppose the sight of unwed teenage mothers is hard to swallow for old women .
So, this girl and I had been together for a good chunk of time (a few months, which was an eternity at that age) and this story takes place when she was 15 and I was 16.
Her family was crazy insane strict, so I almost never went to her place. Of course, it didn't help that her heroine addict older brother would gouge out my eyes with hypodermic needles should he find me between his little sister's thighs. Well, one day, we both say "fuck it" and decide to have a bit of fun at her place. Things get a bit heated and clothing is removed. Suddenly, the front door opens and I somehow managed to get clothed, climb out the window, and duck out of sight before anyone could actually get inside the house. It was at this time that I noticed my shoes were on the wrong feet. Nothing big.
Then I heard her brother's voice. He was screaming that he knew someone else was there and that if he found me in the house, he would fucking rip my balls out via my anal cavity. Charming fellow. Anywho, adrenaline is coursing through my blood and my brain is screaming for me to run my ass out of there. Looking around for the safest route, I realize that I left my glasses inside. I didn't care. All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of there. This would, of course, be the cause behind one of the more amusing of my embarrassing stories:
In my blurry-eyed haste, I didn't see the clothesline until I was flat on my back, staring up at it, after running straight into it and damn near having my head removed from my shoulders.
Heres a story my brother told me today. It was a short email exchange he had with one of his customers. The customer asked for some sort of discount, my brother gave it to him. Then the following email exchange occurred...
Customer - "My last name should have ended with "stein".
Brother - I'm Jewish.
Customer - I was just trying to joke about how thrifty I'm being
Brother - I don't follow.
Customer (probably sweating by now) - I'm sorry if I've offended you, it was a bad joke, I'm sorry.
Brother - I'm actually Anglican
Customer - you fucker!!
Brother (jokingly)- you ask for a discount again im lodging a complaint with the human rights commission!
Seriously though, that customer could have gotten himself into a real world of shit over that if he joked with the wrong person.
Not all that strange or embarrassing, but the age stuff reminded me...
So, my wife looks a bit young for her age - I suppose because she's petite (smokin body btw - 5'2, 100lbs ).
Once upon a time, when we were 19, we decided to catch a movie. Upon attempting to buy the tickets the old lady in the booth asked to see my wife's ID.... ... the movie was rated 14A. I felt a bit pedo after that.
Last year (wife is 25 at the time), we're sitting at home. My wife has just put our baby down for a nap when she hears a knock at the door. Here's what I hear from the other room:
Lady: ".... Umm.. hi.... is your mommy home?"
Wife: "..... ...... .. I... uh.... I own this house."
In the lady's defence, our house is fairly nice in an upscale neighbourhood as we had pretty good money for our age - so we were certainly the youngest home owners in the area, and with the lady going door to door I suppose it was a bit unexpected to see someone that looked young.
EDIT: Oh yeah... My wife got plenty of nasty looks and tongue clucks from dissapproving old ladies back when she was pregnant. Fantastically, she took off her engagement and wedding rings in the 3rd trimester due to hand swelling... I suppose the sight of unwed teenage mothers is hard to swallow for old women .
My wife is in the same boat at 4'7" and 80 to 90 pounds.
She and I went out to dinner (Olive Garden, nothing fancy) and the waitress gave her the childrens menu. I can only imagine what she thought when we were walking in with our hands in each other's back pockets.
Alright, I love my mother dearly, but she says some silly things sometimes. So this is more embarrassing for her, not me.
1. We find a kitten hiding under a truck in our work parking lot about a year ago. He's wearing a collar, so obviously not a stray but a runaway. We take care of him, and after 2 weeks of no responses to FOUND posters, we decided to keep him and take him to the vet for his shots and everything. Dexter, as we ended up naming him, looks to be about 2-3 months old. However, my mother insists to the vet that he has to be at least 4-5 months old because "kittens are only born in the spring."
2. She and I are driving down the road and we pass one of those Tour America RVs. You know, the ones that are covered with pictures from the places they're trying to get you to rent an RV and drive to? This one has a very idealic harbor sunset scene on it. I make the idle comment that "that picture probably wasn't even taken in America." Then my mother points out that you can read "Providence" on the bow of one of the nearby boats.
Me: "Oh, I stand corrected."
Her: "Little weird that they'd use that to advertise an RV though."
"Huh?"
"Well, it's in Rhode Island"
"...and?"
"You can't drive there."
"..."
"Because it's an island."
"..."
"...Isn't it?"
Raiden333 on
There was a steam sig here. It's gone now.
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KirbithI appear to be made of delicious cake. Registered Userregular
edited September 2009
Story above actually reminded me of another time.
Oh let's say about a year ago, my dad decided to take me out to lunch at a fairly nice restaurant downtown. And the waitress comes to hand us our menus, and offers me a kids menu. Throughout the entire meal she seemed convinced I was a really young child. My dad, finding it hilarious of course that everyone thinks I am so young, decided to ask the woman how old she thought I was. Oh, she thought about 13 or 14.
He has made a habit of asking the waiter/waitress how old they think I am whenever we're out to eat somewhere. They never even get close.
I spent the rest of my hangover wondering what awful things I had done while my memory was taking the evening off. I was understandably worried, as this party involved not just my friends but a bunch of people I had only met for the first time that evening. Previous drunken escapades of mine have included wrestling a friend on gravel and ripping her dress, falling asleep in a cocktail bar before waking up to chew a friend out for being self-absorbed, trying to commandeer a punt to get back to my halls of residence, and swigging from a bottle of Captain Morgan proclaiming that as a sailing instructor, it was my prerogative.
Why do people like you continue to drink?!
underdonk on
Back in the day, bucko, we just had an A and a B button... and we liked it.
I usually get the opposite reaction when it comes to age. I've always been tall for my age, and I guess due to my demeanor, I've regularly been mistaken for being older than I was. One time I was on a Southwest flight, back when the first two rows were facing each other, and I was sitting across the aisle from my dad and brother, when a very attractive woman sits in the seat facing mine.
I could tell that she was older than I was (I was in high school at the time), so I was surprised when she started chit-chatting with me. Things were going well, until she asked me how old I was. I hesitated for a second, when my dad leaned over and proclaimed
I usually get the opposite reaction when it comes to age. I've always been tall for my age, and I guess due to my demeanor, I've regularly been mistaken for being older than I was. One time I was on a Southwest flight, back when the first two rows were facing each other, and I was sitting across the aisle from my dad and brother, when a very attractive woman sits in the seat facing mine.
I could tell that she was older than I was (I was in high school at the time), so I was surprised when she started chit-chatting with me. Things were going well, until she asked me how old I was. I hesitated for a second, when my dad leaned over and proclaimed
I spent the rest of my hangover wondering what awful things I had done while my memory was taking the evening off. I was understandably worried, as this party involved not just my friends but a bunch of people I had only met for the first time that evening. Previous drunken escapades of mine have included wrestling a friend on gravel and ripping her dress, falling asleep in a cocktail bar before waking up to chew a friend out for being self-absorbed, trying to commandeer a punt to get back to my halls of residence, and swigging from a bottle of Captain Morgan proclaiming that as a sailing instructor, it was my prerogative.
I spent the rest of my hangover wondering what awful things I had done while my memory was taking the evening off. I was understandably worried, as this party involved not just my friends but a bunch of people I had only met for the first time that evening. Previous drunken escapades of mine have included wrestling a friend on gravel and ripping her dress, falling asleep in a cocktail bar before waking up to chew a friend out for being self-absorbed, trying to commandeer a punt to get back to my halls of residence, and swigging from a bottle of Captain Morgan proclaiming that as a sailing instructor, it was my prerogative.
Why do people like you continue to drink?!
Why do people like you continue to be assholes?
Although, to be fair, that's the question I ask myself each time I end up acting like an idiot
I drink because I like the taste of beer (real ale, not your piss-water fare that one normally associates with student shindigs), and I find a few drinks helps me relax when I'm in company I don't know. Unfortunately, it's a fine line, and the first thing to go when I drink is my self-control. One drink's too many, two aren't enough, that sort of thing.
And in a similar vein, I have another housewarming to attend tomorrow, so there could be more embarrassment on the way...
Might have to go with underdonk here. If you are looking at a future event, and ALREADY worried about how drunk you'll get... maybe you should take a step back.
Although, to be fair, that's the question I ask myself each time I end up acting like an idiot
I drink because I like the taste of beer (real ale, not your piss-water fare that one normally associates with student shindigs), and I find a few drinks helps me relax when I'm in company I don't know. Unfortunately, it's a fine line, and the first thing to go when I drink is my self-control. One drink's too many, two aren't enough, that sort of thing.
And in a similar vein, I have another housewarming to attend tomorrow, so there could be more embarrassment on the way...
Man, those stories aren't really the kind of stories that you need to stop drinking over. No one got hurt, you acted a bit of an ass, but got some decent stories out of it. You'd have to be a totally judgmental dick to respond to that with "why do people like you continue to drink?!"
Might have to go with underdonk here. If you are looking at a future event, and ALREADY worried about how drunk you'll get... maybe you should take a step back.
Jesus Christ, you people need to fucking live a little.
Although, to be fair, that's the question I ask myself each time I end up acting like an idiot
I drink because I like the taste of beer (real ale, not your piss-water fare that one normally associates with student shindigs), and I find a few drinks helps me relax when I'm in company I don't know. Unfortunately, it's a fine line, and the first thing to go when I drink is my self-control. One drink's too many, two aren't enough, that sort of thing.
And in a similar vein, I have another housewarming to attend tomorrow, so there could be more embarrassment on the way...
Man, those stories aren't really the kind of stories that you need to stop drinking over. No one got hurt, you acted a bit of an ass, but got some decent stories out of it. You'd have to be a totally judgmental dick to respond to that with "why do people like you continue to drink?!"
Yeah, the stories of what he did aren't really at all anything to go all "NEVER DRINK AGAIN" over.
...though "You know how it is... once you start drinking you just can't stop!" is a little not how it is...
My wife and I have a similar thing to you guys with getting carded; she's a year older than I am but apparently doesn't look it. She me took me out for my first legal drink when I turned 21 (this was when we first started dating) and the waitress carded her but not me.
A little while later, we went out with a group of her friends (all at least a year older than me) to a Chilis and the waiter came over to take our drink orders. We were at a round table and he started across from me; everyone ordered a drink, he carded everyone at the table except me. I'm pretty sure my future wife hit me for that one.
There's a guy I work with who's short and has a higher-pitched voice. Despite the fact that his hair is super-short, he gets called "ma'am" all the time.
This. THIS.
As an experiment I actually shaved my head at one point (like crew-cut level, not a clean shave).
STILL got called "Ma'am" by people. Also whenever I order something over the phone or through a drive through I always get "Ma'am". Hell, it happened an hour ago. I ordered a taxi for a man giving a software demo (he had ankle surgery and was on crutches) and even after I gave them my name (a male name) at the end the dispatcher said- "We will send someone to pick you up immediately Ma'am."
At this point I am used to it. As I said, I've even gone with super short hair for almost a year and I even had a beard as well, and STILL got the "Ma'am".
I spent the rest of my hangover wondering what awful things I had done while my memory was taking the evening off. I was understandably worried, as this party involved not just my friends but a bunch of people I had only met for the first time that evening. Previous drunken escapades of mine have included wrestling a friend on gravel and ripping her dress, falling asleep in a cocktail bar before waking up to chew a friend out for being self-absorbed, trying to commandeer a punt to get back to my halls of residence, and swigging from a bottle of Captain Morgan proclaiming that as a sailing instructor, it was my prerogative.
Why do people like you continue to drink?!
Why do people like you continue to be assholes?
ANSWER UNCLEAR. ASK AGAIN LATER.
underdonk on
Back in the day, bucko, we just had an A and a B button... and we liked it.
Although, to be fair, that's the question I ask myself each time I end up acting like an idiot
I drink because I like the taste of beer (real ale, not your piss-water fare that one normally associates with student shindigs), and I find a few drinks helps me relax when I'm in company I don't know. Unfortunately, it's a fine line, and the first thing to go when I drink is my self-control. One drink's too many, two aren't enough, that sort of thing.
And in a similar vein, I have another housewarming to attend tomorrow, so there could be more embarrassment on the way...
Man, those stories aren't really the kind of stories that you need to stop drinking over. No one got hurt, you acted a bit of an ass, but got some decent stories out of it. You'd have to be a totally judgmental dick to respond to that with "why do people like you continue to drink?!"
PASSIVE AGGRESSIVENESS CLEAR. RESPONSE NOT WARRANTED.
underdonk on
Back in the day, bucko, we just had an A and a B button... and we liked it.
International poop stories are always relevant in S&E.
So I had a trip to Chiang Mai, Thailand. Not much of a hitch--stuck with bottled or filtered water, and the food was agreeable. The trip back is where the crap begins. Oh, and personally, I like the night markets at Chiang Mai way more than Bangkok's.
For our last lunch I had something with egg noodles, then we catch a plane to Bangkok for the international flights. We had a big bag of candy throughout. While on the flight I felt gas. A hell lot. I'm guessing maybe it's the low air pressure of plane cabins but my intestines felt like knotted clown balloons.
Wisely, I knew better than to unleash the vaporous fury of the colons in a medium-sized plane with packed seats so I go to the bathroom. No urge to hit the toilet just yet, just a lot of gas. You ever had one of those burps where you thought it'll be normal, but went on a lot longer than expected? This was the fart version. Only I expected it to be long, but it went on for what felt like a full ten to fifteen seconds. After I displace the entire air volume of the stall with methane I go back to my seat. Rinse and repeat every so often until we hit Bangkok.
If you've been to the Bangkok airport, you'll know that the baggage check-in is basically one big-ass room. I've been to neighborhood parks smaller than this. Bathrooms, however, were surprisingly modest. I think there were only three or four toilet stalls. And it was always busy. Bowels were bubbling like an evil cauldron so I head into the stall in corner and sit.
Oh God. Oh God. The NOISE. The SMELL. Liquid and gas raced for first place and finished in a tie. I contemplated on my past on what I ate could produce such smell. Fish sauce. Shit. Fish sauce distilled in egg noodles. Egg. Oh gawd.
I flush after each wave as I empty out everything I've eaten after lunch. Now it smells like....cherry cough syrup? Oh. The starbursts. And fish sauce. WTF. Melted candy went through my system so fast it wasn't totally absorbed.
The bathroom, of course, was never empty. I wash my hands as quickly as possible and avoided eye contact until I was out of the country.
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GreasyKidsStuffMOMMM!ROAST BEEF WANTS TO KISS GIRLS ON THE TITTIES!Registered Userregular
edited September 2009
So about two hours ago I had my first run-in with the cops. How exciting. Here's the story.
My friend and I are on the 4th stop of a night of drinking, a hotel/bar on the main street of our small town. We were talking about jumping over to another bar a few blocks down the road, but thought "hey let's just try and sneak our beers out and finish them on the way". First bad idea. So instead of trying to sneak out the front door, and because I know where the back door is having worked there for a few months, we go out the back door. This door leads out to the back alley behind all the stores and such on main street. So we turn to go down the side alley next to the hotel that would take us to the street the hotel faces. Well, I see at the end two cop cars parked, and like a RETARD, who was not thinking clearly because of ALCOHOL, I made the worst decision possible.
"MARK! SHIT! COPS! RUN!"
So we both kinda turn and stumble and start jogging away, when a flashlight hits us and just like that, two cops are yelling at us, "HOLD IT, DON'T YOU FUCKING RUN".
Yup, taken back to the cars like a couple of criminals, put on the curb, ID'd, lectured about how running is NOT a good idea, and we're given one ticket for 'transporting liquor in an open container'. Luckily we didn't get charged for fleeing the police, otherwise we'd be fucked and I wouldn't be talking about this so lightly. So as it is, my friend and I split a $115 ticket. He's paying 30, I'm paying 85, since it was really my fault. On the walk home we both thought it was, while shitty, a pretty good story and we'll look back and laugh at it.
However my mother did not take it so kindly. We'll see how tomorrow morning goes, fellow forumers. That's my embarrassing story for now.
So we both kinda turn and stumble and start jogging away, when a flashlight hits us and just like that, two cops are yelling at us, "HOLD IT, DON'T YOU FUCKING RUN".
Did you start walking briskly and turn back giving them a smarmy smile? Thats what I would've done.
The bathroom, of course, was never empty. I wash my hands as quickly as possible and avoided eye contact until I was out of the country.
It seems like westerner with questionable intestinal fortitude + foreign country where rice and/or noodles are the primary food source = Awesome Story For This Thread.
underdonk on
Back in the day, bucko, we just had an A and a B button... and we liked it.
I usually get the opposite reaction when it comes to age. I've always been tall for my age, and I guess due to my demeanor, I've regularly been mistaken for being older than I was. One time I was on a Southwest flight, back when the first two rows were facing each other, and I was sitting across the aisle from my dad and brother, when a very attractive woman sits in the seat facing mine.
I could tell that she was older than I was (I was in high school at the time), so I was surprised when she started chit-chatting with me. Things were going well, until she asked me how old I was. I hesitated for a second, when my dad leaned over and proclaimed
"He's 17"
... and thus ended our conversation.
Oh man, cockblocked by your own father.
I can't even imagine how pissed I would be if my dad did that. Fortunatly though he probably would have done the exact opposite as TheMarshal's dad.
So I have both a strange and an embarrassing story to tell.
For years, I experienced the occasional bloody nose. No I don't pick it; it's just something that occasionally happens to me. It happened to my father, it happens to my brother, etc. Apparently it stops eventually and I haven't actually had one for like two years so maybe I'm in the clear.
Anyway, all of a sudden sometimes my nose would start bleeding. Sometimes this would be a real gusher- like "I have to lie down, I lost a lot of blood just now" gusher. Maybe 4-5 times a year, regardless of season, this would occur.
Often at the worst possible times. I once gave a lengthy presentation for class- in fact, it was my thesis presentation- bleeding like a stuck pig. The professor gave me bonus points. Once, I was coming home on the metro, and I had no tissues, and I basically just stood there bleeding profusely. I've woken up more than once to find myself soaked in my own blood, pillow stained red. Once in college I was in the bathroom and I sneezed and blood basically sprayed everywhere such that my roommates had to basically throw out everything, including their toothbrushes and such. I mean it was like I had put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger.
However the worst possible time to have a massive nosebleed is, of course, when one is having sex. And though it is statistically unlikely- I don't have sex that often, because I'm an unlikeable introvert who will forever be alone, combined with the relative rarity of the nosebleeds themselves- this happened to me.
Now, I usually get some warning. So I'm mid-act of sex, and I realize that I can smell blood and feel a nosebleed coming on, and I'm thinking the easiest fix is to switch positions such that gravity is on my side rather than against me. She might not even notice, in that case. I'm so embarrassed by this that I don't just say, "Hey I'm about to have a nosebleed, can we swap places?"
So I'm trying to just make it a normal part of our mutual activity. And I don't get us swapped in time. And I start bleeding. A lot.
Like, a lot. And its pouring out of my nose, all over the girl. So I'm basically mortified at this point, and apologizing, and such.
Now the strange part comes in. She takes a minute or two to figure out what is going on and why, and then she says: "No, its fine." Then she starts taking the blood and rubbing it on herself.
So not only did my nosebleed correspond to my having sex, a statistical unlikelihood, but I happened to be having sex with one of a few girls out there with a blood fetish.
Posts
Funny huh?
No?
Ok, so for some reason both me and her are looking down waiting for the inevitable(I used the awesome pull out method all through my HS years) and we both get shot in the eye.
That shit burns!
We come down stairs where everyone is partying and I declare I'm taking ole girl home.
We must have looked ridiculous because when I get back to the party my buddy is laughing and says "Why were you both rubbing your eyes when you came down from upstairs? Were you sleeping? And why is your right eye all red?"
More HS sexy time shenanigans:
It's my first time and my GF is experienced.
I last all of 15 seconds...maybe.
She breaks up with me the next day.
Slut.
So, my wife looks a bit young for her age - I suppose because she's petite (smokin body btw - 5'2, 100lbs ).
Once upon a time, when we were 19, we decided to catch a movie. Upon attempting to buy the tickets the old lady in the booth asked to see my wife's ID.... ... the movie was rated 14A. I felt a bit pedo after that.
Last year (wife is 25 at the time), we're sitting at home. My wife has just put our baby down for a nap when she hears a knock at the door. Here's what I hear from the other room:
Lady: ".... Umm.. hi.... is your mommy home?"
Wife: "..... ...... .. I... uh.... I own this house."
In the lady's defence, our house is fairly nice in an upscale neighbourhood as we had pretty good money for our age - so we were certainly the youngest home owners in the area, and with the lady going door to door I suppose it was a bit unexpected to see someone that looked young.
EDIT: Oh yeah... My wife got plenty of nasty looks and tongue clucks from dissapproving old ladies back when she was pregnant. Fantastically, she took off her engagement and wedding rings in the 3rd trimester due to hand swelling... I suppose the sight of unwed teenage mothers is hard to swallow for old women .
So, this girl and I had been together for a good chunk of time (a few months, which was an eternity at that age) and this story takes place when she was 15 and I was 16.
Her family was crazy insane strict, so I almost never went to her place. Of course, it didn't help that her heroine addict older brother would gouge out my eyes with hypodermic needles should he find me between his little sister's thighs. Well, one day, we both say "fuck it" and decide to have a bit of fun at her place. Things get a bit heated and clothing is removed. Suddenly, the front door opens and I somehow managed to get clothed, climb out the window, and duck out of sight before anyone could actually get inside the house. It was at this time that I noticed my shoes were on the wrong feet. Nothing big.
Then I heard her brother's voice. He was screaming that he knew someone else was there and that if he found me in the house, he would fucking rip my balls out via my anal cavity. Charming fellow. Anywho, adrenaline is coursing through my blood and my brain is screaming for me to run my ass out of there. Looking around for the safest route, I realize that I left my glasses inside. I didn't care. All I wanted to do was get the fuck out of there. This would, of course, be the cause behind one of the more amusing of my embarrassing stories:
In my blurry-eyed haste, I didn't see the clothesline until I was flat on my back, staring up at it, after running straight into it and damn near having my head removed from my shoulders.
Customer - "My last name should have ended with "stein".
Brother - I'm Jewish.
Customer - I was just trying to joke about how thrifty I'm being
Brother - I don't follow.
Customer (probably sweating by now) - I'm sorry if I've offended you, it was a bad joke, I'm sorry.
Brother - I'm actually Anglican
Customer - you fucker!!
Brother (jokingly)- you ask for a discount again im lodging a complaint with the human rights commission!
Seriously though, that customer could have gotten himself into a real world of shit over that if he joked with the wrong person.
My wife is in the same boat at 4'7" and 80 to 90 pounds.
She and I went out to dinner (Olive Garden, nothing fancy) and the waitress gave her the childrens menu. I can only imagine what she thought when we were walking in with our hands in each other's back pockets.
1. We find a kitten hiding under a truck in our work parking lot about a year ago. He's wearing a collar, so obviously not a stray but a runaway. We take care of him, and after 2 weeks of no responses to FOUND posters, we decided to keep him and take him to the vet for his shots and everything. Dexter, as we ended up naming him, looks to be about 2-3 months old. However, my mother insists to the vet that he has to be at least 4-5 months old because "kittens are only born in the spring."
2. She and I are driving down the road and we pass one of those Tour America RVs. You know, the ones that are covered with pictures from the places they're trying to get you to rent an RV and drive to? This one has a very idealic harbor sunset scene on it. I make the idle comment that "that picture probably wasn't even taken in America." Then my mother points out that you can read "Providence" on the bow of one of the nearby boats.
Me: "Oh, I stand corrected."
Her: "Little weird that they'd use that to advertise an RV though."
"Huh?"
"Well, it's in Rhode Island"
"...and?"
"You can't drive there."
"..."
"Because it's an island."
"..."
"...Isn't it?"
Oh let's say about a year ago, my dad decided to take me out to lunch at a fairly nice restaurant downtown. And the waitress comes to hand us our menus, and offers me a kids menu. Throughout the entire meal she seemed convinced I was a really young child. My dad, finding it hilarious of course that everyone thinks I am so young, decided to ask the woman how old she thought I was. Oh, she thought about 13 or 14.
He has made a habit of asking the waiter/waitress how old they think I am whenever we're out to eat somewhere. They never even get close.
Why do people like you continue to drink?!
I could tell that she was older than I was (I was in high school at the time), so I was surprised when she started chit-chatting with me. Things were going well, until she asked me how old I was. I hesitated for a second, when my dad leaned over and proclaimed
"He's 17"
... and thus ended our conversation.
Oh man, cockblocked by your own father.
Although, to be fair, that's the question I ask myself each time I end up acting like an idiot
I drink because I like the taste of beer (real ale, not your piss-water fare that one normally associates with student shindigs), and I find a few drinks helps me relax when I'm in company I don't know. Unfortunately, it's a fine line, and the first thing to go when I drink is my self-control. One drink's too many, two aren't enough, that sort of thing.
And in a similar vein, I have another housewarming to attend tomorrow, so there could be more embarrassment on the way...
Yeah, the stories of what he did aren't really at all anything to go all "NEVER DRINK AGAIN" over.
...though "You know how it is... once you start drinking you just can't stop!" is a little not how it is...
A little while later, we went out with a group of her friends (all at least a year older than me) to a Chilis and the waiter came over to take our drink orders. We were at a round table and he started across from me; everyone ordered a drink, he carded everyone at the table except me. I'm pretty sure my future wife hit me for that one.
This. THIS.
As an experiment I actually shaved my head at one point (like crew-cut level, not a clean shave).
STILL got called "Ma'am" by people. Also whenever I order something over the phone or through a drive through I always get "Ma'am". Hell, it happened an hour ago. I ordered a taxi for a man giving a software demo (he had ankle surgery and was on crutches) and even after I gave them my name (a male name) at the end the dispatcher said- "We will send someone to pick you up immediately Ma'am."
At this point I am used to it. As I said, I've even gone with super short hair for almost a year and I even had a beard as well, and STILL got the "Ma'am".
PASSIVE AGGRESSIVENESS CLEAR. RESPONSE NOT WARRANTED.
So I had a trip to Chiang Mai, Thailand. Not much of a hitch--stuck with bottled or filtered water, and the food was agreeable. The trip back is where the crap begins. Oh, and personally, I like the night markets at Chiang Mai way more than Bangkok's.
For our last lunch I had something with egg noodles, then we catch a plane to Bangkok for the international flights. We had a big bag of candy throughout. While on the flight I felt gas. A hell lot. I'm guessing maybe it's the low air pressure of plane cabins but my intestines felt like knotted clown balloons.
Wisely, I knew better than to unleash the vaporous fury of the colons in a medium-sized plane with packed seats so I go to the bathroom. No urge to hit the toilet just yet, just a lot of gas. You ever had one of those burps where you thought it'll be normal, but went on a lot longer than expected? This was the fart version. Only I expected it to be long, but it went on for what felt like a full ten to fifteen seconds. After I displace the entire air volume of the stall with methane I go back to my seat. Rinse and repeat every so often until we hit Bangkok.
If you've been to the Bangkok airport, you'll know that the baggage check-in is basically one big-ass room. I've been to neighborhood parks smaller than this. Bathrooms, however, were surprisingly modest. I think there were only three or four toilet stalls. And it was always busy. Bowels were bubbling like an evil cauldron so I head into the stall in corner and sit.
Oh God. Oh God. The NOISE. The SMELL. Liquid and gas raced for first place and finished in a tie. I contemplated on my past on what I ate could produce such smell. Fish sauce. Shit. Fish sauce distilled in egg noodles. Egg. Oh gawd.
I flush after each wave as I empty out everything I've eaten after lunch. Now it smells like....cherry cough syrup? Oh. The starbursts. And fish sauce. WTF. Melted candy went through my system so fast it wasn't totally absorbed.
The bathroom, of course, was never empty. I wash my hands as quickly as possible and avoided eye contact until I was out of the country.
My friend and I are on the 4th stop of a night of drinking, a hotel/bar on the main street of our small town. We were talking about jumping over to another bar a few blocks down the road, but thought "hey let's just try and sneak our beers out and finish them on the way". First bad idea. So instead of trying to sneak out the front door, and because I know where the back door is having worked there for a few months, we go out the back door. This door leads out to the back alley behind all the stores and such on main street. So we turn to go down the side alley next to the hotel that would take us to the street the hotel faces. Well, I see at the end two cop cars parked, and like a RETARD, who was not thinking clearly because of ALCOHOL, I made the worst decision possible.
"MARK! SHIT! COPS! RUN!"
So we both kinda turn and stumble and start jogging away, when a flashlight hits us and just like that, two cops are yelling at us, "HOLD IT, DON'T YOU FUCKING RUN".
Yup, taken back to the cars like a couple of criminals, put on the curb, ID'd, lectured about how running is NOT a good idea, and we're given one ticket for 'transporting liquor in an open container'. Luckily we didn't get charged for fleeing the police, otherwise we'd be fucked and I wouldn't be talking about this so lightly. So as it is, my friend and I split a $115 ticket. He's paying 30, I'm paying 85, since it was really my fault. On the walk home we both thought it was, while shitty, a pretty good story and we'll look back and laugh at it.
However my mother did not take it so kindly. We'll see how tomorrow morning goes, fellow forumers. That's my embarrassing story for now.
Did you start walking briskly and turn back giving them a smarmy smile? Thats what I would've done.
It seems like westerner with questionable intestinal fortitude + foreign country where rice and/or noodles are the primary food source = Awesome Story For This Thread.
I can't even imagine how pissed I would be if my dad did that. Fortunatly though he probably would have done the exact opposite as TheMarshal's dad.
For years, I experienced the occasional bloody nose. No I don't pick it; it's just something that occasionally happens to me. It happened to my father, it happens to my brother, etc. Apparently it stops eventually and I haven't actually had one for like two years so maybe I'm in the clear.
Anyway, all of a sudden sometimes my nose would start bleeding. Sometimes this would be a real gusher- like "I have to lie down, I lost a lot of blood just now" gusher. Maybe 4-5 times a year, regardless of season, this would occur.
Often at the worst possible times. I once gave a lengthy presentation for class- in fact, it was my thesis presentation- bleeding like a stuck pig. The professor gave me bonus points. Once, I was coming home on the metro, and I had no tissues, and I basically just stood there bleeding profusely. I've woken up more than once to find myself soaked in my own blood, pillow stained red. Once in college I was in the bathroom and I sneezed and blood basically sprayed everywhere such that my roommates had to basically throw out everything, including their toothbrushes and such. I mean it was like I had put a gun to my head and pulled the trigger.
However the worst possible time to have a massive nosebleed is, of course, when one is having sex. And though it is statistically unlikely- I don't have sex that often, because I'm an unlikeable introvert who will forever be alone, combined with the relative rarity of the nosebleeds themselves- this happened to me.
Now, I usually get some warning. So I'm mid-act of sex, and I realize that I can smell blood and feel a nosebleed coming on, and I'm thinking the easiest fix is to switch positions such that gravity is on my side rather than against me. She might not even notice, in that case. I'm so embarrassed by this that I don't just say, "Hey I'm about to have a nosebleed, can we swap places?"
So I'm trying to just make it a normal part of our mutual activity. And I don't get us swapped in time. And I start bleeding. A lot.
Like, a lot. And its pouring out of my nose, all over the girl. So I'm basically mortified at this point, and apologizing, and such.
Now the strange part comes in. She takes a minute or two to figure out what is going on and why, and then she says: "No, its fine." Then she starts taking the blood and rubbing it on herself.
So not only did my nosebleed correspond to my having sex, a statistical unlikelihood, but I happened to be having sex with one of a few girls out there with a blood fetish.
whaaaat
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It's also the most bizarre outcome.
Depends, perhaps he missed the part about picking her up in a 'lonely emo pretend-vampire bar'?
They tried to bury us. They didn't know that we were seeds. 2018 Midterms. Get your shit together.
I never finish anyth
I'm pretty certain that story could have gone in there anyway...