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#funny story
foldingfittedsheets · 1 month
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Every sales job I’ve worked has that one item. The white whale. The biggest ticket you can sell. The sale you brag about when you’re chatting with other industry people.
When I sold mattresses it was a split king adjustable base. That’s two twin extra long mattresses next to each other to make a king, but each side can move independently. They’re insanely expensive and honestly kind’ve impractical but it was the biggest ticket thing to sell.
When I sold sex toys though our white whale was the 20lb ass. It was a female pelvis, a cut out from the waist to the tops of the thighs. It was hyper realistic material and cost about $500. I definitely had bigger tickets but not in one item typically.
In my time at the sex shop, I sold three. Each time was completely different in terms of how the guy acted about buying it. The first man was a little embarrassed and shy about it. I was professional and supportive as I rang it up. Once I handed him the receipt he looked at the box. Then he looked at me.
If you’ve ever wondered how big a box has to be to fit a 20lb ass let me just tell you: it’s pretty damn big. It’s an uncomfortably large armful of box and every side has a picture of the sex toy inside on it. It’s not subtle.
“Could I get a bag….?”
There was no bag that existed that could possibly contain all that ass. “Hang on,” I told him.
I got scissors and tape and covered the box in cut up black bags. Looking relieved he picked up his purchase and left.
The next man to buy one carried it proudly to the counter; self assured and not embarrassed in the least. When I said I didn’t have a bag, but I could wrap it for him he gave a hearty shrug and hefted it into his arms, marching out the door with the butt on full display.
The last man to get one was just kind’ve an odd guy. Not creepy, but eccentric. We got along great, and as I rang him up I said, “Well one guy wanted his taped over, and one guy carried it out. What would you prefer?”
“There’s no bags?”
“No store bags. I think our jumbo trash bags in the back might fit it….?” It seemed rude to suggest putting a $500 item into a trash bag, but he wasn’t bothered.
He considered this then said, “Bring me the trash bag.”
When I delivered it to him he still managed to surprise me. Instead of shoving the huge box into it he opened the box. He took out his new $500 sex toy, and all the little things it came with, tipping them unceremoniously into the trash bag.
“There! Now I don’t have to deal with the box later!”
I was slightly stunned but agreed that I could easily deal with the trash. Then in a move I still think about with delight he flung the trash bag over his shoulder like a Santa with a sack full of ass and sauntered out the door.
If this or my other escapades made you laugh you could pop a tip into my Ko-fi! For more like this check my tag "ffs foibles".
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and if you look to your left you will see the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to me
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oifaaa · 5 months
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Wait who is Tims assigned youtuber?????
Well
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spoonful116 · 5 months
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I remember senior year of high school, people asking if they were a top or bottom. My asexual ass thought it was about bunk beds because we were going to dorms soon.
My answer was bottom because I was always afraid of falling off
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palimpsessed · 1 month
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Happy birthday, Basilton. Enjoy your @erotic-grope-fest.
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yukimisouzou-kim · 3 months
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The Shenanigan Of MalleYuu #16
Malleus: “My name is Malleus Draconia, the next ruler of the Briar Valley. I’m the prince of Night Creatures, and people fear me for my power as the Top Fifth Wizard in Twisted Wonderland!”😠😠😠 Yuu: *simply exists* Malleus: “Hello, I’m Tsunotarou. I like ice cream and singing. You aren’t scared of me, so I like you. UwU”🥺🥺🥺
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valeskawhore · 4 months
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IMAGINE:
APOCALYPSE AU?? PROXIES X READER (IDEA!)
A/N: This is an idea that I’ve been seeing all around tumblr from my mutuals and honestly, why the hell not? I love the idea of apocalyptic survival. Let me know if this should be a series !!
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An eerie creak sounds out behind me as I opened the window, and Dust flooded the dimly lit room as I made my way inside. Exploring abandoned houses wasn't always a typical interest of mine, but staying warm and having a dry place to sleep at night was.
Rain clashed gently down on the roof from outside, crickets could be heard and soon the silence rested back into place when I pulled the cracked window shut from the other side.
This place definitely was not the best, but at least it was dry.
First thing I did was open my backpack, setting up candles and hanging an old sheet that I found laying in the corner, over the window to block out the light.
Repeatedly, I told myself that this was just temporary.
I didn't have enough food to last more than a few nights anyways. Walkers roamed more and more with every passing day, tho winter was coming and it was coming fast.
Hopefully, that would do something to slow the walkers, even if it was just by a few steps, I prayed.
With a sigh, I slowly sat down on the make-shift mattress that I made for myself, hearing my ankles pop in the process because man, I really needed to stretch more often, I'm not getting any younger.
I took off my baseball cap and pulled down my mask to breathe just a little bit clearer, running my fingers through my hair, I noticed how greasy it was. The thought made me disgusted since.. Well, I couldn't even imagine how I smelled and i didnt want to either.
Popping open a bottle of water, I drank my thirst away. Listening to the rain pour, the thunder crack and the sounds of the undead trudging along outside.
As I clenched my eyes shut for a second..
I blocked out the screams, the cries and pleads for help.. The cocking of guns and the growls of the unthinkable tearing and ripping the flesh of the people being eaten alive. My fingernails began to itch, my knuckles on fire, tears welding in my eyes.
“Y/N!!” She screamed, “HELP ME!!” she cried..
I sat my bottled water down, and lit up a cigarette.
“It’ll be ok..” I told myself, “Survive one more day, just one more,” everynight.
“I’ll find you baby.. one day..”
I closed my eyes.. Relaxed my body, breathed out deeply.
“Goodnight y/n” I told myself.
The front door clashed open.
*~*~*~~*~*~*~
“GET INSIDE! GET THE FUCK INSIDE!” A voice screamed. The sounds of the undead gurgled up the last of their life and slammed their heads against the door, screaming. I heard multiple people slamming themselves against the front door, refraining it from opening. “ROGERS, FIND SOMETHING, NOW. WE NEED TO BARD THE DOOR!”
“I-I-M OHN–ON IT!!” Someone stuttered.
I jumped up from my mattress, reaching for my gun and loading in the magazine. I threw the sleeping bag off of me, and unlocked the door. I heard the others rummaging down stairs for something to board the door. I peaked my head out,
Something suddenly rammed against my head, the door was torn open, slamming into my head. I fell back on my ass, and reached around lazily for my gun.
I heard a gasp fall above me, my vision was spinning, but I found my gun and raised it above me at the silhouette. There were two of them, then three, then two, until both shadow figures meshed into one guy. His face was something more,
Two dark brown eyes, greasy chestnut hair, he nose was already bleeding and there was a bandage covering up the right side of his lips stretching to his cheek bones.
He was definitely a young man, 23-24 maybe. Wearing yellow rusted-rimmed goggles, a blue hoodie with a tanned, older jacket overtop, there was a black and gray-ish mask wrapped around his neck and pulled up over his face. The (now) snickering man wore stained blue jeans and some bloodied converse.
His laugh rang out through my skull, pounding against my ear lobes. His eyes became impossibly wide now, canines glimmering in the moonlight as thunder cracked in the background.
With one final sadistic smile,
He picked up his double hand axes and raised them high, His laughter almost screams now, The screams of a hyena, a skinwalker luring its prey.
The young man brought the axes down quickly,
I rolled over with a small scream, doing my best to avoid the hard steel.
I fumbled around on the ground, reaching for my gun.
When I had it in my hand, the man jumped on me and slammed my back into the hardwood floor. The house was so old that dust jumped into the air, and swam around. I clenched my eyes shut and coughed until I could breathe again. I felt his boney hands wrap around my throat, his skin uncomfortably cold and white. I kicked my feet behind him and threw my head back,
The man let up his grip but didn't scream out in pain, his laughter only grew.
I grabbed the boy's hair and threw him off of me, his body collided against the wall,
Because,
His body actually went through it, clashing into the room next to us.
Dust flooded the room once more, and as the psychopath took longer than expected to rise back to his feet, I grabbed my sleeping bag and ran downstairs, contents loosley in hand.
I struggled to throw my jacket on as i ran down the steps,
A shorter figure stepped in front of me, and stuck his leg out, successfully tripping me in the process. I felt my world being flipped upside down as my rib cage cracked against the staircase. I coughed up blood, my heartbeat in my ears as I laid there motionless.
With my vision dark, i could only here throat-ripping screeching from the outside world,
Three figures stepped in my view of the door, I pulled my arms in front of me and did my best to drag my body away. I moaned out in a breath-less cry as I felt the rusted nails sticking out of the wood flooring scraped against my cracked ribs.
Something stopped me, whoever or.. Whatever it was, grabbed my achilles heel and dragged me back in the living room with one strong pull.
They flipped me on my back, blood dripped down the corner of my mouth as I did my best to control my breath. Hesitantly, I reached my hand up and folded my fist into a weak, shaky middle finger, my ‘fuck you’ to the world.
I heard one of them snicker before the tallest one leaned down carefully, dark red painted eyes peered into mine before he pulled off my mask. I had a surge of anger come over me, as I reached to kick him in the balls but he caught my leg, almost expecting it even. His grip tightened menacingly on my thigh, before he gave my cracked rib cage an almost impossibly fast sucker punch.
I coughed out blood on instinct, my body spasming. I held my chest and my body folded forwards, my knees to my chest. “F-fuck you..” I coughed, tears streaming down my face.
His hand, still on my thigh, tightened once more. Leaning close to my face, the stranger whispered..
“What.. do we have here?”
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furiousgoldfish · 5 months
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Had a critical event today. I was in a public facility, waiting in a line, and I realized the person first in the line looked a lot like my mother. I ignored this and got distracted. However, when she turned around and started walking to the exit, I saw her face, and it was indeed.. my mother. I turned the other way, stared at my phone, feeling waves of panic washing over me. I expected every second to be approached, or tapped, or to have her standing in front of me, calling me by name. I had no plan, no idea how to get out of that. She wasn't supposed to find me. I lived for 7 years without running into her once.
However.... she didn't recognize me. She walked right past me, and went out. And didn't come back. I waited for a bit and then turned around, and the room was empty of her. There was nobody recognizable anymore. She didn't spot me, or recognize me, even though I was so close, a step away, was looking at her face, right before turning my back on her.
I am immensely blessed by my family members forgetting how I look like or how to recognize me in public. I've been beside myself all day. What is safety if not abusers walking past you not realizing who you are? I would recognize her anywhere but I guess she didn't really look at me much during our life together.
I had a flashback later about the time when as a kid, I asked her to buy me a piece of fruit, not because I wanted the fruit, but because I wanted some confirmation, some proof that she cared for me. And I asked nicely at first, but then started begging and pleading with desperation, just wanting some proof that I am cared for, something I could cling to when I feel unloved. So that I could, at the darkest times, remind myself 'one time she got me a piece of fruit, so she must care for me'.
She didn't get me the piece of fruit, and got mad at me instead.
I didn't run away because there was no fruit. I ran away because I knew if I didn't, I would get killed or pushed into suicide. And she wanted that for me, she wanted me to die in that house. But I got away and despite all her effort of manipulating people to try and find me and pressure me to go back, to walk back into my death, now she walks past me without realizing that her target was standing so close. Can't kill me anymore, can you. I'm wearing a hat now.
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dumblr · 2 years
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They will break your heart and call you heartless.
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Queer people trying to get back at homophobes by being antisemitic: "The Bible also says not mix wool and linen isn't that silly and stupid??"
Anyway here's a funny story I just remembered about Shatnez while I was working on my Regency pieces.....
So when I was a kid my family and I visited some historic location or museum or something. I honestly can't remember all the details because it was that long ago. Anyway, so the place had some Colonial period costumes for us kids to try on, and of course I got all excited because I've always been a period piece nerd. My brothers and I scrambled to the costume bin, and the fabric was nice and heavy and more "authentic" looking than cheap Halloween costumes. I had just put on a coat and was really excited to put on a hat when my dad stopped us. He looked at the label on the coats.
"I'm sorry guys, it's Shatnez", he told us solemnly.
Now, I had learnt about Shatnez in school, but in the days of mass-produced clothes and synthetic fibres and cotton blends, Shatnez seemed like something you only hear about stories, something you don't encounter in real life.
And then....
That one wool coat in some Colonial site just *had* to be blended with some linen.
My brothers and I quickly tore the coats off ourselves and looked at them like they were radioactive.
I hadn't encountered Shatnez since then, and hopefully I'll never have to. I don't really own that many wool garments anyway, in fact, I think the wool coat I thrifted and turned into my Regency coat might be my *only* wool garment. Which....means I should probably get it checked for Shatnez.....hm......
Anyway, lots of Jews, including myself, follow the laws of Shatnez, and a whole bunch of other "silly" laws so maybe think twice before you resort to antisemitism to 'stick it to the homophobes'.
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foldingfittedsheets · 1 month
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Since everyone seems to love my sex shop stories, here’s another one.
Phone calls were literally a game for us. Not all phone calls, but there was a specific brand of call where guys would creep on us. 90% of the workforce at the sex shops was women. So we’d get dudes calling jacking off or trying to get their jollies from us.
The game: make them hang up. We could have hung up. On a few occasions I did, but for the most part we made a sport out of getting creeps to go flaccid. It really depended on a caller.
You couldn’t just go in for belittling them straight off- some guys wanted that. You had to tailor your strategy to the perv. Overall it was pretty fun and it turned an aspect of the job that could’ve become a major bummer into a fun sport. We’d get excited when the phones rang.
So one day the phone rings. I pick up and it was very clearly a young teen who was putting on a deep voice. I was utterly delighted, I’d never had a crank call before. He said, “I have a dildo emergency! Can you deliver 5 boxes of dildos to my home?!”
It took everything in me not to crack in that moment. It was so funny. It was like three kids had walked through the door in a trench coat and the phrase “dildo emergency” was one of the funniest things I’d ever heard.
But I kept it together. In smooth customer service tones I replied, “Oh, I’m sorry to hear you’re having an emergency, but due to the nature of our product we do require people to come pick it up themselves.”
The caller audibly deflated. Some of the deep voice he was putting on bled away when he said plaintively, “But it’s an emergency…”
“I’m sorry, sir, rules are rules.”
He hung up. I burst out laughing and told my coworker what had happened. She said, “I will buy you lunch if you call back and pretend you can deliver something.”
This sounded like an all around win for me, and the kid hadn’t used anything to block his number. So I called back.
“Hello!” This was before caller ID was common for home phones and so he picked up in his totally normal voice, several octaves higher than before.
“Hello, I’m calling regarding your dildo emergency?”
“Oh! Hem hem,” he coughed, getting his voice back into character for me. “Yes! The emergency!”
“Well I’ve spoken to my manager and it’s your lucky day. We’ll be able to make a delivery after all. Five boxes you said? We can swing it by later, we’ll just need your name, address, and credit card number.”
He was thrown by needing to provide info and was silent for a moment then said, “Well how much is it for five boxes?”
“About five hundred dollars, sir.”
He slipped out of his character voice to exclaim, “Five hundred dollars?! What kind of dildos are they?!”
“Just standard six inches with balls, sir.”
This was his breaking point. He started wheezing with laughter trying to repeat the phrase “six inches with balls” incoherently.
“So your address and card info?”
He hung up and I broke down laughing too. We both got a kick out of it, and I won the game twice in one day.
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xiaq · 6 months
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Storytime: In Which I Accidentally Gave my Husband a Pre-Game Ritual
So B is part of a pickleball league and they have games every Tuesday night. Over a year ago, when he started playing in this league, I jokingly gave him an overly dramatic kiss as he left and told him to "kick their asses, baby" in my best Mae West voice.
The following Tuesday, as he was leaving, he lingered in the doorway. "Is there anything you'd like to say to me before I go?" he asked leadingly. "Ah, darling, of course," I said, throwing myself into his arms. "You must kick their asses, baby." And then it became a bit. Every Tuesday. I walk him to the door. I breathily beseech him to lay waste to his opponent's posteriors. It's great.
Except today, I was working on a demo build for work, completely preoccupied. I was contemplating a beautiful world in which SAP had never been invented. I was not thinking about the fact that it was Tuesday; frankly, I was beyond conceptualizing the days of the week at all.
"I'm leaving!" B shouts from downstairs.
"Yeah, love you," I say. Where he is going? I don't know. All I know is that SAP sucks and if it was a flammable physical object, I'd readily set it on fire.
After a stretch of silence, he comes back up the stairs. He kisses my cheek. "Oh, SAP, huh. That sucks."
"Uh huh."
"Well, I'm leaving."
"Uh huh."
"Darling," he says. "I'm leaving."
"Okay??"
He is now becoming physically distressed and I manage to focus on something that is not my incandescent rage.
"Are you alright?" I ask.
"IT'S TUESDAY," my tirelessly analytical, practical, husband says. "I can't leave until you do the thing and now I'm running late."
And then it clicks.
"Oh! Right. Kick their asses, baby," I say.
He exhales with relief and hustles back down the stairs.
"Thanks! Love you! Bye!"
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skankhunt44 · 8 months
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Well... uh... wow. Lots to unpack here...
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miserylamalice · 4 months
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Some snow this morning so I'm feeling jolly.
An cemetery expedition and Dean finds a really uncanny ressemblant angel statue , reminding him some other angel :)
( don't know about the long story, up to you)
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About an month ago I leaving dinner with grandparents at restaurant. I have my cane but in so so much pain. I walk by table. And old man from table calls out "how was the war?", "what a poor veteran" and table js laughing. I look younger than my age so was confused how he thought I was a veteran.
They were mocking me. I just realized they were mocking me.
I feel so silly. Never angry but was so confused when they say this. My brain is too slow. A. O.o
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rogueinkglitch · 3 months
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When I was younger, I was obsessed with being stealthy. Ninjas, spies, rangers, all of it. I was very good at hiding, courtesy of being a tiny little critter and very flexible, so I could squeeze into any small space. I was generally very quiet, to the point that people would often not notice I was hovering around, and thus frequently overheard all kinds of things I probably was not supposed to. I also, the voracious little reader I was, loved the book The Trumpet of the Swan, which opens with a character describing how he could walk silently.
Obviously, I had to teach myself how to walk silently. I already preferred to go barefoot, despite my parents’ best efforts, which helped quite a bit, and being small was once again an advantage. I quickly picked up the art of moving almost silently, and often used the skill to sneak up on my brother and launch a surprise attack. Eventually I also figured out how to do so in shoes, because eventually it was cold enough that I was forced to wear something on my feet if I wanted to go outside.
I still retain all these skills today, and they can be very handy in a variety of situations, including but not limited to not waking the entire house when I go down the stairs at 3 am to use the bathroom (old house + wooden stairs = incredibly loud trip both ways if you aren’t careful).
However, I have recently been dealing with an unseen consequence. You see, I don’t just know how to move silently, it actually became my standard mode of locomotion. I now move with little to no sound at all times. This in and of itself is fine.
When paired with my general forgetability, small size, quiet demeanor, and tendency to wait to be noticed before speaking, I have gained the ability accidentally jump scaring various people. From classmates to friends to even my own partner, I’ve scared all of them by suddenly appearing near them and forgetting to announce my presence. Multiple people have suggested a bell.
So I guess be careful what skills you pick up, or you might start accidentally terrorizing your coworkers and the occasional innocent retail employee.
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