Haha, the following story actually occurred just 2 minutes ago.
Me and the guys in my department went across the street to the other building to get some drinks from the vending machine. We're getting stuff and this smokin' hot blond walks into the cafeteria. We all take notice and laugh once she's out of sight. We all get our stuff and walk out into the lobby. I notice the new guy didn't get anything so I inquire if he was just coming over to check out the selection.
He responds with "Yeah, and it was worth it to check out that blond, hahaha!"
Everyone laughs as I glance back to notice that the girl had walked out of the cafeteria right behind us. No one else noticed as they continued to make little remarks about how hot she was and how she works in our building. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I just kept walking, shaking my head, and trying not to laugh hysterically.
Eventually, we got to the door. Our team lead went to hold it open for the person behind him as he was saying "Seeing blonds like that is about the only thing keeping me sane these days." Then he and everyone else noticed she was right there. He immediately started playing it off like he'd said "Going to meetings" and not "Seeing blonds."
Once we got back into the sanctuary of our office, a mighty laugh was had.
A friend of mine was in his first year of high school. He was from the country...grew up pretty sheltered.
He was standing around with some other guys, and some jerks walk by trying to start something with them. One guy calls my friend a "pussy".
Thinking he'd stick up for himself...he yelled back, "well at least I have one!"
So yesterday I was in the libary with a freind and some people from my english class working on a presentation. Of course little work is actually getting done and I've contributed all I can. I'm sitting their hitting random article on wikipedia whilst talking to my friend. Well a crowd of people enter and come up to my friend to ask about the party he's having. I turn my head to listen to them. One of them stares in my direction with a look between and . The rest quickly follow suit silence enveloping the crowd. I look at my screen to see a huge title along the lines of "Rape fantasies in Women".
A friend of mine was in his first year of high school. He was from the country...grew up pretty sheltered.
He was standing around with some other guys, and some jerks walk by trying to start something with them. One guy calls my friend a "pussy".
Thinking he'd stick up for himself...he yelled back, "well at least I have one!"
Ultimate fail at a comeback.:x
He used the Art of Confusion to throw off his attackers. Clearly those other guys didn't know they were dealing with an expert.
I would like to thank you all for giving me something to read at work. I just completed reading through the thread.
Now to add a bit:
One of my friends when younger used to hide all of his contraband in his sister's room. He decided that this was ultimately the best decision as if ever found, the blame wouldn't be placed on him. Not long after, his mom had a concerned sex, masturbation, and lesbian sexuality talk with his then 12-year-old sister - prompted by the findings of Playboy magazine and other such material under her mattress.
Here one less awesome and embarrassing for this girl who I was helping at my campus's library which I work. A girl unfamiliar with the library process comes up to the circulation desk with a list of books she wants to check out of the library. I say "okay..." not really understanding what she wanted. So I checked the system for the books and confirmed for her that they were not checked out and were on the third floor.
She then looked blankly at me and blinked for a bit. I didn't know what to say after that. She then asked "Aren't you going to get them?" I, a bit stunned by this proposition, tell her no and I am confined to the desk. She then asks "Where are the workers at?" I had to explain to her that she had to go and find her books herself and bring them down to me for checkout. She looked so confused and embarrassed.
Do other libraries actually do that? I mean seriously.
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TL DRNot at all confident in his reflexive opinions of thingsRegistered Userregular
I would like to thank you all for giving me something to read at work. I just completed reading through the thread.
Now to add a bit:
One of my friends when younger used to hide all of his contraband in his sister's room. He decided that this was ultimately the best decision as if ever found, the blame wouldn't be placed on him. Not long after, his mom had a concerned sex, masturbation, and lesbian sexuality talk with his then 12-year-old sister - prompted by the findings of Playboy magazine and other such material under her mattress.
Here one less awesome and embarrassing for this girl who I was helping at my campus's library which I work. A girl unfamiliar with the library process comes up to the circulation desk with a list of books she wants to check out of the library. I say "okay..." not really understanding what she wanted. So I checked the system for the books and confirmed for her that they were not checked out and were on the third floor.
She then looked blankly at me and blinked for a bit. I didn't know what to say after that. She then asked "Aren't you going to get them?" I, a bit stunned by this proposition, tell her no and I am confined to the desk. She then asks "Where are the workers at?" I had to explain to her that she had to go and find her books herself and bring them down to me for checkout. She looked so confused and embarrassed.
Do other libraries actually do that? I mean seriously.
So yesterday I was in the libary with a freind and some people from my english class working on a presentation. Of course little work is actually getting done and I've contributed all I can. I'm sitting their hitting random article on wikipedia whilst talking to my friend. Well a crowd of people enter and come up to my friend to ask about the party he's having. I turn my head to listen to them. One of them stares in my direction with a look between and . The rest quickly follow suit silence enveloping the crowd. I look at my screen to see a huge title along the lines of "Rape fantasies in Women".
Hello, I'm from the lurking department. Just thought I'd share this.
I was at a bar with a couple lady friends from the music faculty I go to. Me and 3 others regularly went outside to smoke(Québec ftw) some cigarettes. After about 3-4 hours of getting drunker and more drunk, me and the 3 others step outside to smoke. I whip out 4 cigarettes because I am a generous fellow. We start smoking and everything is going normally. At one point one girl starts coughing and another one is looking at her almost finished cigarette in a funny way. I look at them and start wondering if... I take another drag and yes! It turns out those 4 cigarettes contained a very big amount of weed in them. I tell them this and that I'm sorry and everything. At that point in the very drunken state we all are we realize that we're going to be really high and really drunk and stay over at one of the girl's place.
Not really strange and embarassing, but it felt weird knowing I got 3 girls high by accident.
Last night I was at a cast party, and a friend was going through some trouble, so I took her outside (into the house's courtyard) and was talking to her, trying to raise her spirits and get some things between us straightened out. We're out there for a few minutes, and we're getting worked up (not like :winky:, like ), and suddenly the outer door to the courtyard bangs open, and a guy I vaguely recognize bounces in, grinning at us.
Oh, did I mention how drunk I am? I'm so drunk. The girl is so drunk. Everyone in the house is so, so, so drunk.
My mind does a quick about-face to get the guy out of here and I say "everyone is inside". This apparently makes sense to him (turns out he was DDing for a couple of inebriated thespians) and he walks right past us into the house. I turn back to the girl, when I hear chatter getting louder and louder behind me. Spinning back around, I see four people coming out of the door - two are crossfaded, one is drunk, one is entirely sober. The drunk (and gay, by the by, so he's not chatting her up) one immediately comes up to the girl I'm with and begins just...talking. Just, blabbering and blabbering and blabbering. Not about her problems, or what's going on, but just rambling hypothesis on his own nature. Through the tears and her own difficulties, the girl I'm with, perhaps due to the drunkenness, maybe just to be sweet, is nodding along and giving at least token signs of acknowledgement. The sober guy (a very good friend of mine) and I boggle at each other for a moment, until, picking the drunken guy up under the arms and ushering one of our crossfaded friends inside, leaving the girl I was with and another crossfaded friend to talk.
It's one of those stories that doesn't translate well to writing, I'll admit, but it was uncontrollably surreal. We're talking full out sobbing, comforting, crying, tears streaming down faces on both of our parts, and suddenly here this guy is talking about why he doesn't call people to hang out.
About 13 years ago I lived in New Orleans (USA). One night, I was heading back to the dorm after hanging out in the French Quarter. It was when all the bars were closing, so I guess 4am? I would always cut over to Bourbon Street when walking back to the trolley stop because it was the 'safest' route. And by that I mean there were people around staggering home and whatnot. So I was walking down the sidewalk, minding my own business, when I noticed a car slowly pull up next to me. I hear a man's voice say 'Hey, come over here'. I pretend to not hear him and keep walking. The car continues to follow me and again the voice from the car beckons me to come over to his window. Now I'm pretty sure once Bourbon Street opens up to traffic it is a one-way street. And this guy in a shitty beat up Chevrolet is driving the wrong way down it trying to pick me up. After a few more times of this happening I stop, turn to him and shout 'I AM NOT GETTING CLOSE TO YOU, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME' and quicken my pace. The guy still follows for another block or so saying stuff like 'Hey you like dicks? I have a big one, let me show you it' and shouting obscenities at me. He eventually stops following me and I make it to the trolley stop without further incident (though I was looking over my shoulder the rest of the way there).
The next day I tell my friend what happened. He was like 'WTF? You prolly coulda made some good money!'.
Summary: Some freaky dude mistakes me for a male prostitute.
Do other libraries actually do that? I mean seriously.
It's called Closed Stack. Some libraries, especially rare books collections, use such a method. I believe the NY Public Library (the one in movies with the lions out front) is closed stack, as are several libraries on the MIT and Harvard campuses.
My buddy use to help run a paint ball store, and one day being the (at the time) jobless bum I was, decided to hang out there for a couple hours. So we're watching Clerks on the TV while he's fixing a gun when the owner walks in. He comes in fiddles around with some things then asks my buddy for a cigarette while he goes out to do some errands. My buddy pulls out his pack, throws him the whole pack, the owner takes one out of the pack, then leaves.
Couple minutes later we decide to go out for a smoke (it being dead and all). So we're out there talking, and he pulls out his pack and his face just goes like this.
"What's the matter <buddy>?"
"...<owner> just took my dip-it"
For those who don't know, a dip-it is when you take the filter end of a cigarette, lick the end, and place the filter on a line of coke. So next time you smoke the cigarette your mouth gets all numb and tingly from the inhalation and the coke touching your lips/tongue. Some people do that when they're on their last line so they can smoke it later and some people do it before they go to concerts.
Anyways, we decide to forget about it.
30 minutes later the owner comes back and he keeps smacking his lips. We don't say anything for a bit until the owner states that (being a not-so-smart fellow like he is), "Must be getting sick cause his mouth is numb and that he may need to go to a doctor".
"Uh, <owner> I think you took my dip-it..."
"What the fuck is a dip-it?!"
"When you dip the filter of a cigarette into a line of coke"
"Why would you wanna do that?!"
"...cause it makes your mouth numb"
"..."
Yeah, he didn't work there for much longer after that.
"Crossfaded" I got through process of elimination, but I think I'm going to need a hand on this one.
The rhythm method?
I have to admit that as a tech theater geek, Crossfaded seemed to me like they were getting less[more] high as they got more[less] drunk. God I'm terrible.
"Crossfaded" I got through process of elimination, but I think I'm going to need a hand on this one.
The rhythm method?
I have to admit that as a tech theater geek, Crossfaded seemed to me like they were getting less[more] high as they got more[less] drunk. God I'm terrible.
ahahah oh lord
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TL DRNot at all confident in his reflexive opinions of thingsRegistered Userregular
My buddy use to help run a paint ball store, and one day being the (at the time) jobless bum I was, decided to hang out there for a couple hours. So we're watching Clerks on the TV while he's fixing a gun when the owner walks in. He comes in fiddles around with some things then asks my buddy for a cigarette while he goes out to do some errands. My buddy pulls out his pack, throws him the whole pack, the owner takes one out of the pack, then leaves.
Couple minutes later we decide to go out for a smoke (it being dead and all). So we're out there talking, and he pulls out his pack and his face just goes like this.
"What's the matter <buddy>?"
"...<owner> just took my dip-it"
For those who don't know, a dip-it is when you take the filter end of a cigarette, lick the end, and place the filter on a line of coke. So next time you smoke the cigarette your mouth gets all numb and tingly from the inhalation and the coke touching your lips/tongue. Some people do that when they're on their last line so they can smoke it later and some people do it before they go to concerts.
Anyways, we decide to forget about it.
30 minutes later the owner comes back and he keeps smacking his lips. We don't say anything for a bit until the owner states that (being a not-so-smart fellow like he is), "Must be getting sick cause his mouth is numb and that he may need to go to a doctor".
"Uh, <owner> I think you took my dip-it..."
"What the fuck is a dip-it?!"
"When you dip the filter of a cigarette into a line of coke"
"Why would you wanna do that?!"
"...cause it makes your mouth numb" "..."
Yeah, he didn't work there for much longer after that.
Posts
Me and the guys in my department went across the street to the other building to get some drinks from the vending machine. We're getting stuff and this smokin' hot blond walks into the cafeteria. We all take notice and laugh once she's out of sight. We all get our stuff and walk out into the lobby. I notice the new guy didn't get anything so I inquire if he was just coming over to check out the selection.
He responds with "Yeah, and it was worth it to check out that blond, hahaha!"
Everyone laughs as I glance back to notice that the girl had walked out of the cafeteria right behind us. No one else noticed as they continued to make little remarks about how hot she was and how she works in our building. There was nothing I could do to stop it. I just kept walking, shaking my head, and trying not to laugh hysterically.
Eventually, we got to the door. Our team lead went to hold it open for the person behind him as he was saying "Seeing blonds like that is about the only thing keeping me sane these days." Then he and everyone else noticed she was right there. He immediately started playing it off like he'd said "Going to meetings" and not "Seeing blonds."
Once we got back into the sanctuary of our office, a mighty laugh was had.
Watch out...girls have the coots!
Too bad none of you had the bwalls to chat her up.
Uneaten Chinese food was awaiting us at our desks. No time to waste actually conversing with the wimmins.
Well, a man's gotta have his priorities.
He was standing around with some other guys, and some jerks walk by trying to start something with them. One guy calls my friend a "pussy".
Thinking he'd stick up for himself...he yelled back, "well at least I have one!"
Ultimate fail at a comeback.:x
He used the Art of Confusion to throw off his attackers. Clearly those other guys didn't know they were dealing with an expert.
Now to add a bit:
One of my friends when younger used to hide all of his contraband in his sister's room. He decided that this was ultimately the best decision as if ever found, the blame wouldn't be placed on him. Not long after, his mom had a concerned sex, masturbation, and lesbian sexuality talk with his then 12-year-old sister - prompted by the findings of Playboy magazine and other such material under her mattress.
Here one less awesome and embarrassing for this girl who I was helping at my campus's library which I work. A girl unfamiliar with the library process comes up to the circulation desk with a list of books she wants to check out of the library. I say "okay..." not really understanding what she wanted. So I checked the system for the books and confirmed for her that they were not checked out and were on the third floor.
She then looked blankly at me and blinked for a bit. I didn't know what to say after that. She then asked "Aren't you going to get them?" I, a bit stunned by this proposition, tell her no and I am confined to the desk. She then asks "Where are the workers at?" I had to explain to her that she had to go and find her books herself and bring them down to me for checkout. She looked so confused and embarrassed.
Do other libraries actually do that? I mean seriously.
Blockbuster doesn't even do that.
Some admin would just go around deleting enough pages so that it no longer works.
I was at a bar with a couple lady friends from the music faculty I go to. Me and 3 others regularly went outside to smoke(Québec ftw) some cigarettes. After about 3-4 hours of getting drunker and more drunk, me and the 3 others step outside to smoke. I whip out 4 cigarettes because I am a generous fellow. We start smoking and everything is going normally. At one point one girl starts coughing and another one is looking at her almost finished cigarette in a funny way. I look at them and start wondering if... I take another drag and yes! It turns out those 4 cigarettes contained a very big amount of weed in them. I tell them this and that I'm sorry and everything. At that point in the very drunken state we all are we realize that we're going to be really high and really drunk and stay over at one of the girl's place.
Not really strange and embarassing, but it felt weird knowing I got 3 girls high by accident.
Oh, did I mention how drunk I am? I'm so drunk. The girl is so drunk. Everyone in the house is so, so, so drunk.
My mind does a quick about-face to get the guy out of here and I say "everyone is inside". This apparently makes sense to him (turns out he was DDing for a couple of inebriated thespians) and he walks right past us into the house. I turn back to the girl, when I hear chatter getting louder and louder behind me. Spinning back around, I see four people coming out of the door - two are crossfaded, one is drunk, one is entirely sober. The drunk (and gay, by the by, so he's not chatting her up) one immediately comes up to the girl I'm with and begins just...talking. Just, blabbering and blabbering and blabbering. Not about her problems, or what's going on, but just rambling hypothesis on his own nature. Through the tears and her own difficulties, the girl I'm with, perhaps due to the drunkenness, maybe just to be sweet, is nodding along and giving at least token signs of acknowledgement. The sober guy (a very good friend of mine) and I boggle at each other for a moment, until, picking the drunken guy up under the arms and ushering one of our crossfaded friends inside, leaving the girl I was with and another crossfaded friend to talk.
It's one of those stories that doesn't translate well to writing, I'll admit, but it was uncontrollably surreal. We're talking full out sobbing, comforting, crying, tears streaming down faces on both of our parts, and suddenly here this guy is talking about why he doesn't call people to hang out.
Sorry, I don't speak teenager.
EDIT: It might be something local to my hometown, like "pull/pull out".
Naw that's normal.
Diarrhea etiquette is that it's considered a medical condition and you do not mock it.
Normal poop etiquette does not apply.
"Crossfaded" I got through process of elimination, but I think I'm going to need a hand on this one.
The rhythm method?
About 13 years ago I lived in New Orleans (USA). One night, I was heading back to the dorm after hanging out in the French Quarter. It was when all the bars were closing, so I guess 4am? I would always cut over to Bourbon Street when walking back to the trolley stop because it was the 'safest' route. And by that I mean there were people around staggering home and whatnot. So I was walking down the sidewalk, minding my own business, when I noticed a car slowly pull up next to me. I hear a man's voice say 'Hey, come over here'. I pretend to not hear him and keep walking. The car continues to follow me and again the voice from the car beckons me to come over to his window. Now I'm pretty sure once Bourbon Street opens up to traffic it is a one-way street. And this guy in a shitty beat up Chevrolet is driving the wrong way down it trying to pick me up. After a few more times of this happening I stop, turn to him and shout 'I AM NOT GETTING CLOSE TO YOU, GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME' and quicken my pace. The guy still follows for another block or so saying stuff like 'Hey you like dicks? I have a big one, let me show you it' and shouting obscenities at me. He eventually stops following me and I make it to the trolley stop without further incident (though I was looking over my shoulder the rest of the way there).
The next day I tell my friend what happened. He was like 'WTF? You prolly coulda made some good money!'.
Summary: Some freaky dude mistakes me for a male prostitute.
So, you got three girls drunk, then got them stoned, then you all stayed over together...
FINISH THE STORY!
(Preferably with sexiness)
It would have been so awesome if you just stopped dead right there and called him out on his horrendous grammar.
It's called Closed Stack. Some libraries, especially rare books collections, use such a method. I believe the NY Public Library (the one in movies with the lions out front) is closed stack, as are several libraries on the MIT and Harvard campuses.
A person over 18 that purchases alcohol for young'uns.
Use:
"Hey, do you have a pull?" (n)
"Would you be willing to pull out for us?" (v)
We used to call it "running a Hey Mister"
Couple minutes later we decide to go out for a smoke (it being dead and all). So we're out there talking, and he pulls out his pack and his face just goes like this.
"What's the matter <buddy>?"
"...<owner> just took my dip-it"
For those who don't know, a dip-it is when you take the filter end of a cigarette, lick the end, and place the filter on a line of coke. So next time you smoke the cigarette your mouth gets all numb and tingly from the inhalation and the coke touching your lips/tongue. Some people do that when they're on their last line so they can smoke it later and some people do it before they go to concerts.
Anyways, we decide to forget about it.
30 minutes later the owner comes back and he keeps smacking his lips. We don't say anything for a bit until the owner states that (being a not-so-smart fellow like he is), "Must be getting sick cause his mouth is numb and that he may need to go to a doctor".
"Uh, <owner> I think you took my dip-it..."
"What the fuck is a dip-it?!"
"When you dip the filter of a cigarette into a line of coke"
"Why would you wanna do that?!"
"...cause it makes your mouth numb"
"..."
Yeah, he didn't work there for much longer after that.
I have to admit that as a tech theater geek, Crossfaded seemed to me like they were getting less[more] high as they got more[less] drunk. God I'm terrible.
ahahah oh lord
O_o
I'm more inclined to say "why would he throw him a pack of cigs that has one laced with crack?"
Good to hear the guy who is fixing up high-powered paintball guns is on crack.
Everybody's on crack, man. Get with the times.
Man, you'd have to be on crack to think that coke and crack were the same thing.
Much in the same way that batter /= pancakes.