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bright-haired-teacher · 8 months

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going to vent this here, it's long and it's personal and it has nothing to do with teaching so don't even click it if you're not interested in me ranting about my partner

i can't fucking stand him anymore. we've lived together 5 years and i feel nothing but anger and frustration when i think about him. and he's completely fucking oblivious to how unhappy i am, just sits there and tells me "i love you" and i never say it back and this is Fine, to him i guess???

i'm so fucking miserable. like now that my work situation is sorted, i can acknowledge that my home life is a piece of shit. i'm happier when he's at work (he works 24hr shifts, sometimes even 48 which are AMAZING). i'm happier when he's not home. i sit there with the dog and i breathe a sigh of relief because i don't have to be on edge all the goddamn time.

he is not abusive. i can't stand him, but he's not an abuser. he's just. annoying. we are not compatible.

and of course i'm fucking poor as shit! i'm a teacher! and rents around here have fucking skyrocketed just like everywhere else. so i feel stuck! though i did spend a significant portion of my planning this morning doing math and making calculations to see if i can make it work and i can - barely - if i can find a rent payment under 1k (which do exist, tho they're rare) and if i don't consider things like security deposits, but i know i have friends who would spot me.

nowadays when i'm home i'm just so angry at him all the time. and i can't bring anything up to him because he gets so bitchass butthurt about it. like idk maybe it would be easier for you to clean your table if you would put stuff away as you use it instead of waiting until it's fucking disgusting!!!! and no i am not going to clean up behind you, i am not your fucking mother!

and like holy shit i cannot sleep when he's home, i'm just on edge. he makes so much noise. if i go to bed first or a take a nap, he is out there with the TV on fucking blast and using the ice maker and slamming the fucking door and like. HEY ASSHOLE. I AM TRYING TO FUCKIGN SLEEP. but again, let me bring it up, and he'll bring up the one time i woke him up like 2 years ago when i found judy on a nook island after like 600 tickets and i was freaking the fuck out!

he doesn't manage his health, he has diabetes and he shits. all. the. time. and it's fucking disgusting and the bathroom is right by my computer room so i get to listen to and smell his rancid ass constantly and sorry not sorry but if you're shitting that much there is SOMETHING WRONG, go see your doctor and/or fix your fucking diet. and he got mad at me last night for opening the bedroom door when HE FARTED AND IT SMELLED SO BAD I HAD TO HIDE UNDER MY BLANKET and he gets all sobby sobby "i can't help it" okay but we don't have to fucking soak in it, you could open the fucking door or something or spray the room or literally do anything to make it so i don't have to breathe your disgusting ass toxic fumes.

like goddamn i'm so fucking sick of him. i'm sick of the mess he makes and then he complains to me about it like it's my fault he made a mess???? fuck you. "if we buy a house together i need to know you can keep it clean" UH EXCUSE ME THOUGH WHOSE MESS IS IN THE KITCHEN. WHOSE MESS IS IN THE LIVING ROOM. HOW MANY CLOTHES ARE ON THE FLOOR ON YOUR SIDE OF THE BED. i was stressed tf when my part of the house was messy because of transferring schools and all the shit i had to bring home, and when i moved into my new school almost all of that was handled so we are not the fucking same.

can't even use the goddamn couch because he comes in the door and just dumps all his shit there after work like omfg seriously just put. it. away. it just piles up and makes it worse and you want to be all pissy about the mess that YOU. MADE.

and he's over there telling me how much he loves me and calling me "love of my life" and i'm like shut the fuck up i actually hate your fucking guts so bad and i can't believe you don't notice how i stiffen up when you wanna touch me and how much i get aggravated when you interrupt me when i'm doing something (like who THE FUCK interrupts someone who is sitting with a book in their hands? I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO YOU ABOUT INANE TIKTOKS I AM READING) then you're all oblivious like "are you mad at me?" YES! idiot! yes i am fucking mad when i'm doing something and you're making a fuckton of noise with your obnoxious tiktoks that you watch over your obnoxious reality TV. please leave me the fuck alone.

i cannot wait until i have enough money to move out of there. i wish i had never moved in. the whole point was to move in, split costs and save up so i could buy a house and then the fucking pandemic happened and shit skyrocketed and now i feel stuck af and i'm just fucking miserable and home is supposed to be my space to relax and i fucking can't and aspdgas;ldksjags;aoiseua;gliu ugh i hate.

i miss living alone. people think that you need to have a "connection" with someone, you have to surround yourself with people. no. i don't. i need animals and the internet and i'm FINE. people are assholes and make me miserable and that hasn't changed in 42 fucking years so leave me alone. please. goddamn.

ok i'm done because i do have to actually do some work today. motherfucker.

#tbh don't read this #it's angry #i am venting #and typing is faster than putting this in my journal #though tbh i should put this in my journal #maybe i'll print it and glue it in later #but yeah #extremely personal #not worth reading #no i do not want advice #but thank you anyway

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imdoingwhateverisnext · 1 year

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Things I Don't Love (getting to know me and my weird ass) --still editing--

Warning: There are cuss words in here and many many opinions. If you don't like my opinions, that is okay. I am sure I would not like all of yours either.

Getting crop dusted...by ANYONE

Mucous in any form

The phonetic sound of the spoken words "SMEGMA" and "OILY"

(((shivers)))

Onions

B.O.

B.O. that smells like onions

An unexpected dog lick on my foot

Walking barefoot indoors (it's a floor texture thing)

Uncomfortable socks

The daily wrestling match between my bra and my boobs after I get out of the shower

Buzzers at Basketball games

Toenails that extend past the end of the toe

Chocolate and mint combined. I will admit, I am a supporter of flavor segregation in some cases. Chocolate is good with most things. Mint is not. Both are good as long as they are separate. I have thought about this a lot because some people people think I am a monster for not liking chocolate+mint.

Since I am already a monster to some of you, I hate licorice, eel, crab, crawdad, shrimp, lobster (in fact, all underwater spiders), olives, jelly beans, circus peanuts, green peppers, fennel, and bacon (yes I said it-BACON). I saw bacon with nipples once, and that was it for me. Plus I had a pet pig when I was little. (Just speaking my truth)

More things I don't love....

When someone stops me and says, "Wait, you must be kin to....(insert a family member or surname here). You look just like them". 'Oh you mean I look just like my 96 year old great grandma who passed away in 1994?' It doesn't feel like a compliment, but I still smile and say 'thank you' anyway.

When my pit bull farts on my yoga mat. Especially when she is sitting with her butt hole is pressed against it. I now put my mat away immediately when I am finished. Lesson learned.

People who are mean to people just because they can be.

Itchy tags on my clothes

Mosquitoes, Fleas, Ticks, Wasps, Hornets, stink bugs.

My neighbor's lawn jockey ((GRRR...))

Not being able to reach things without a stool or ladder

Other people's taste in music (sometimes). I get it, most people probably don't love mine either. Opinions are like assholes right?

Loud sudden startling noises that I am not expecting.

The sound of a popping balloon even if I am expecting it.

Mouth sounds I can hear from across the room.

The smell of fake lavender

Bad perfume or cologne (especially if it is strong). I don't have any specific examples, but most of the Men's colognes that are blue, or have the words "blue" or "fresh" somewhere in the name or description.

Any melon (honeydew, canteloupe, watermelon). I dislike the first two so much that I will not eat fruit that has been touching either one of them. Any association with melon ruins the flavor of the rest of the fruit.

Tighty whities. This has been established prior. I dedicated an entire paper to this one topic alone, but it warrants repeating. They are unattractive on everyone! All body shapes, styles and colors. They are equally hideous for all.

Trying to find matching socks. I gave up wearing them all together (unless I am indoors without shoes, they give me some foot sensation protection)

Station wagons

Any vehicle with fake wood on the sides.

Stepping barefoot into warm pee. I don't know why the warmth seems to make it worse.

Most of the indoor house paint color schemes from the 70's...pale lime green, orange, dark yellow and army green. It might be a light form of PTSD from staring at the painted walls of all of the government buildings I attended school in, or military housing. But the private home decor was just as hideous back then.

Panties that bind, roll, or wedge. I have been known to strip off uncomfortable underwear in the bathroom at work or in the store, in the car, pretty much anywhere I decide, "these things have to go! Commando it is!" Uncomfortable drawers can ruin my entire day.

The sensation of squishing on my feet when walking in wet shoes.

People who are selfish in bed. It is just unnecessary. Whatever happened to 'You scratch my back, I'll scratch yours'?

Worn out heavily trafficked shag carpeting

The feel of my armpits when they are naked (no deodorant). They feel angry and irritated, and stick when I get sweaty.

Getting sweaty...unless it is earned through a workout or sex. It is perfectly fine then.

Catching my dog half way through eating her own vomit <<gag>> But I am also thankful that I am not the one having to clean it up. Is that wrong?

How tender the underside of my arm skin is. How do people get tattoos there???

That person who continues to try to have a conversation with me without looking up from his or her phone. I converse much better when your face is pointed toward my face and there is some form of acknowledgment that you hear what I am saying. I am guilty of walking away in the middle of a conversation because the other person began typing on his phone. I don't care who it is. I have done this to my mom before. I will just walk away. I must be really boring to talk to.

Rude drivers. "You know I had the right of way Dick Head!!"

Being the center of attention when everyone in the room is looking at me, like on a stage or at a podium.

Clothes that feel uncomfortable or restrictive.

Friction blisters from ill-fitting shoes

Skinny high heels or extremely high heels of any kind (AKA- Devil Shoes). I have nearly broken my ankle more than once when the shoe flipped sideways twisting my ankle into a very unnatural 90 degree angle. This has happened to both of them on different occasions. I had to give these kind of shoes up to protect myself from further orthopedic damage.

A room/lounge/bar where the cigarette smoke is so thick, my eyes sting and water.

People who try to make me feel bad about myself so that they can feel better about themselves.

Bilateral corneal abrasions

Feeling frozen in the frog squat position after a strange epidural, even though I can see my legs are clearly straight out in front of me.

Making small talk with someone I do not care for or with someone I know dislikes me. I personally do not like wasting my words or my air. It is the RARE person that I feel this way about.

The way my teeth feel when I run my tongue across them after I have eaten a lollipop or sucked on a sugary candy/mint. It just feels gross.

Taking a sip of your soda straw only to realize, for a brief disgusting moment, that it is sweet tea! And it isn't even yours! And you search in panic to figure out who you are now swapping saliva with. Oh damn, a coworker. Well thankfully it is not the grossest one you know. Yeah, it was me. This happened to me. I don't even dislike tea, but that initial taste of wet, flat and sweet, and the underwhelming sensation of lack of carbonation when my mouth was clearly expecting fizz, is one of the worst things. It must be a traumatic memory considering I am still talking about it 10 years later.

Slipping and falling in flip flops on wet grass.

My car breaking down in the middle of the road.

The sounds of patent leather vs patent leather when rubbed together.

Seeing an animal kill or eat another animal. Yes I know, I eat meat which makes me a hypocrite on this topic. In my defense, if I were required to kill my food, I would be a vegan starting right now. I don't want to SEE how the hamburgers are made. I am aware. Call me a snowflake or a wuss, I don't care.

Anything that comes flying toward my face with wings flapping (bird, moth, butterfly, dragonfly). Except bats, I love bats.

Anything that buzzes and flies near my ear.

Cramming my pinky toe into a door jam or heavy coffee table.

Listening to someone who is singing severely off key, or a well timed extended flat note where it doesn't belong.

Rapid fire: Things I don't love....

The heavy smell of straight bleach

Rough feet (including my own)

Paper cuts

Blemishes (on me)

Uncooperative hair (mine)

Banana candy flavor

Being rushed (I also dislike waiting a long time)

Visibly dislocated bones

The way my speaking voice sounds when I hear it recorded

Clutter

Organizing clutter

Dust

Dusting

Dirty dishes

Hand washing dirty dishes

Dirty bathrooms

Cleaning the bathroom

Pain

Boredom

Corduroy

Stalkers

Air Horns

Crepitus

Wood paneling

Giant dog balls

Curdled milk

Sweating

Ammonia

Pelvic exams

Being yelled at

Public speaking

Spiders

Grasshoppers

Insects that travel long distances in a single bound

Slowly rising toilet water nearing the crest of the bowl edge

How the inside of a sea urchin looks

Clowns

Marionettes

Ventriloquist dolls

Puppets in general (I am currently in puppet therapy)

(((((((((still working on this. Not completed)))))))))))

#Things I don't love #Getting to know me and my weird ass #Writing exercise #May be somewhat humorous

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bbytetsu · 4 years

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AWKWARD SEX MOMENTS WITH THE HAIKYUU BOYS

warnings: NSFW. mentions of vaginal sex, anal, menstruation, blowjobs, fingering, nipple play, car sex. plus swearing and a lot of secondhand embarrassment

author’s note: this is just a lil fun brain dump because i KNOW that for all the filthy smut we have on the boys, we need a lil laugh too <3

kuroo: ceo of lubing it up but one time his dick slipped and went in your ASS instead. you blacked out and couldn’t sit down for a week.

kenma: greasy ass mf. it used to be ABSOLUTELY unbearable to suck his dick because he doesn’t wash well around there. like is something fermenting in his pubic hairs? kombucha? you’ll never know.

akaashi: learned to dirty talk by stumbling across smut online and so he was a lil too poetic for his own good. cue the “i’m going to insert my thick juicy cock into your core now.” oops!

bokuto: thought queefs were farts for the longest time. the first time you queefed, he jokingly suggested that maybe you shouldn’t have ate all that chipotle by yourself. the second time, he pulled out to tell you he wouldn’t be mad if you had to take a shit right now.

atsumu: you once got your period in the middle of sex and he was like “oh shit, guess my dick’s just too big 😏 🤫 you okay, though?” I SWEAR-

osamu: he forgets to tell you that the walls are thin in his shared apartment so right as you’re about to climax, his twin goes screaming “TELL THEM TO KEEP IT DOWN OVER THERE, ‘SAMU!” also, he didn’t know how to play with your boobs for the longest time. he’d just pinch your nipples and that’d be it.

suna: didn’t understand the concept of aftercare. after having sex, he’d either fall asleep immediately or just get up to play nba 2k (butt ass naked, too!) without saying a word.

sakusa: assumes that vaginas are supposed to smell like vanilla and flowers, so the first time he goes down on you he asks you why your pussy smells like that. pussy pass REVOKED.

oikawa: this cocky lil bitch. once asked if you would "die for his dick.” it was a bit much so you said no. he pretended not to hear you.

iwaizumi: for your anniversary, he sprinkled some flower petals in the room and put up a big bouquet of flowers on his nightstand. he ended up triggering your pollen allergy. you half sneezed half moaned through sex, but it was a cute gesture!

kunimi: used to suck at fingering, sorry. he’d just stick his fingers in your pussy and leave it there like he was waiting to perform a jutsu in your coochie

mattsun: you’re giving him that double twisty gawk gawk when you decide hm! let’s switch things up a little. so you move your mouth down to his balls and start licking them. he forgot to tell you that his balls are ticklish beforehand and KNEES you in the face.

makki: it’s not just a moment, it’s the whole thing. he wants to have car sex soooo bad but he drives a such small car like a honda fit. you have to roll down the backseat window and stick your head out in doggy position so the two of you can fit 💀

ushijima: for someone who grunts a lot while playing volleyball, it’s weird how silent, i mean DEAD SILENT, he’d be while having sex. and he can’t take a hint so you had to tell him straight up that you felt like you were fucking a serial killer

tendou: shot cum into his own EYE. god it hurts thinking about this but basically he thought he was done cumming, he was just casually inspecting his dick, and then there’s an unexpected squirt!

nishinoya: used to be lil too aggressive on your clit. he’d be biting on it like a rabid dog 😭 but when you tell him to be gentler, it’s too soft. we appreciate the enthusiasm though, he’ll eat you out while swinging his legs in the air!

tanaka: he tries to list out nintendo characters in his head during sex so he doesn’t cum too fast, but “waluigi” once slipped out of his mouth while he was cumming. cuddles after sex have never been more awkward!!

asahi: just couldn’t spank you for the longest time. he is a gentle giant after all, but if you asked to get your hair pulled or ass smacked like he’d give u that weak shit... like where’s all the power, ace?

daichi: keeps asking if you’ve cum yet as if he’s tryna manifest your orgasm!! who is gonna tell this man that you can’t cum from just penetration? you finally decide enough is enough and show him the way to your clit

suga: this one time, his mom kept calling him like every!! 3!! minutes!! and being the mama’s boy that he is, he ends up excusing himself to pick up the phone. andddd later you find out it wasn’t even about anything important 🙄

futakuchi: his first time with you, he nuts too quickly, which completely destroys his pride. he tells you he needs a moment and leaves to take a walk...

terushima: he has the WORST sex playlist. like he’s pretty smooth otherwise, you’ll be in his bed raring to go until he starts playing his shitty soundcloud rapper "remember the times we had. the times you and me had” r&b playlist. and even worse it’s full of ADS 😭

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keanureevesisbae · 4 years

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Mister Cavill, your dog is kinda fat - Chapter 18

Summary: Veterinarian Olivia Tran has zero time for bullshit. After becoming a mom at age twenty three, the one thing she wants is a good life for her daughter Vanessa. Her ex didn’t want anything to do with her nor the baby and she decided that man are officially banned out of her life. But then she meets Henry Cavill at her clinic and her ban slowly starts to crumble apart. Henry on the other hand is looking for one thing: a family. And when he meets Olivia Tran, he finds just that.

Henry Cavill x Olivia Tran (ofc)

Warnings: None

Wordcount: 1.7k

A/N: It’s a bit of a shorter chapter, but very important for the story 🤗Also, I’m writing a little something something for Chris Evans and if you are interested and want to, please check it out 🤗💕

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Being 25 weeks pregnant is no piece of cake and I forgot how much I dislike it, especially in this heat. I’m nothing but a sulking mess in front of the air conditioning. When I was pregnant with Vanessa, poor Belle didn’t know what hit her and every time I was in a grumpy mood (which was daily), she had to deal with that. Now Henry and Vanessa are in this together, but they somehow continue to be the sweetest. I have mad ass respect for them, because I know that I’m in no better mood than I was during my first pregnancy if not worse. This baby likes to play football with my bladder.

Today we are having an ultrasound that will determine the gender of the baby. We were supposed to find out three weeks ago, but since the power was out at the maternity clinic, we couldn’t use the ultrasound machine, only an old piece of crap, that did determine that the baby’s heart was okay.

Vanessa walks out of the kitchen with a big smile on her face. ‘Mommy, we have pancakes.’

‘That’s great, sweetheart,’ I say from the couch.

School starts in two weeks and though I love that girl with all my heart, I’m happy that she is going back to school again, so we can have a certain routine in place again. My maternity leave starts in a month and I can’t wait for that to start.

I try to get up from the couch, but I can only let out a huff. I mean, I could get up by myself, but it’ll cost me too much energy. ‘Sweetheart, could you get your dad for me, please?’

Vanessa chuckles, because she always likes it when her dad helps me out. He is setting an excellent example for her and I hope that it will be moments like these she’ll remember once she will date herself. ‘I will, wait here, mommy.’

She skips to the kitchen, while Kal places his head on my knee. ‘I know, baby,’ I say to him. ‘We have fifteen more weeks to go, until you have another baby sister.’

‘Does my lovely queen need a little help getting up?’ Henry asks, who walks into the living room with a big smile on his face. Ever since we found out I was pregnant, there was an instant switch in his behavior. He has always been sweet and thoughtful, but nowadays he shows what he has been doing the past months that I have known him, it was only twenty five percent of his love.

I can’t carry groceries anymore, I can’t clean up the house anymore, because of the chemicals and the hard work (something that you won’t hear me complain about and I really hope this continues after I give birth and years beyond) and he literally does anything I ask him to.

Around a week ago I was thinking out loud with Vanessa what kind of snack I wanted and he rushed to the kitchen to get it for me. When we are in bed, he cuddles up with me from behind and places his hand on my bump. Our bed is the only place where he doesn’t ask me permission for touching it, which on its own is adorable. Whenever we are out of the bedroom, meaning downstairs, at his parents, in the mall, you name it, he’ll hover his hand over my stomach, before he looks at me with a raised eyebrow.

Every single time.

He is so sweet and so loving and I can’t believe that I went from an asshole like Wesley to a lovely man like Henry.

I hold out my hands for Henry and he pulls me up, before pressing a kiss on my forehead. ‘My little grumpy lady,’ he chuckles.

I scoff. ‘I’m not grumpy,’ I retort.

‘You are, mommy.’ Vanessa grabs my hand and says: ‘But that’s okay. You are growing a baby in your belly.’

Vanessa has been nothing but understanding and I love her with my entire heart for it. However, though it’s true, I refuse to believe that I’m grumpy, because I feel like I was on my best behavior today. ‘When exactly was I grumpy?’

‘This morning,’ she answers. ‘You yelled at daddy for giving you tap water instead of the one from the bottle. You stomped your feet when you found out he ate the last cookie. You cried when you saw that he gave you the wrong socks.’

‘Oh,’ I mumble, already forgotten that I actually done all of that this morning. Oh poor Henry. ‘I have been mean to daddy quite a bit, haven’t I?’

She nods.

‘Have I been mean to you?’

Thankfully she shakes her head, though I feel like she only says that to spare my feelings.

‘Good,’ I chuckle. ‘Do you think I should apologize to dad?’

‘You should, but remember, he will always love you.’

That shouldn’t make you cry, Olivia, so please don’t do that! I look up to my handsome and loving boyfriend Henry and say: ‘I’m sorry.’

He starts to laugh, before he shakes his head. ‘That’s okay, my love. You can’t help it.’

We walk to the dining room and once we’re seated, we start to eat the pancakes and they are really good. ‘Are you guys ready for today?’ I ask them.

Vanessa starts to nod. ‘I am. I really want a sister.’

‘You do?’ Henry asks. ‘And when we find out it’s a boy, what are you going to do then?’

Though Henry pretends he doesn’t understand parenting and is in awe with how I raise Vanessa, he caught on so quickly, asking her those deep questions. He tells me that we should raise all our future kids just like this, causing me to reassure him that we are definitely doing that to an extent, because I have a feeling that I found the perfect parenting style for me. Again to an extent again.

‘I’ll love him no matter what,’ Vanessa answers. ‘It’s just that I get girls better.’ That’s so deep. ‘Boys in my class are dirty.’

I snort. ‘Boys are dirty, I totally agree.’

‘Excuse me?’ Henry says, with a raised eyebrow. ‘I’m a boy and am I dirty?’

‘I was going to add that all boys are dirty, except for the Cavill guys, had you let me finish.’

He smiles, holding my hand on the table. ‘That’s better.’

Vanessa scrunches up her nose. ‘I think uncle Piers is pretty dirty. His farts smell really bad.’

Now Henry can’t stop the laugh. ‘You are totally right, my sunshine.’ He looks from Vanessa, to me, back to Vanessa, back to me, all with a loving smile on his face.

‘Mommy, daddy’s been acting weird.’

I nod. ‘I know, he is probably thinking to himself how he got so lucky that he got not only me, but also you and also this baby.’

‘How did you know?’ Henry asks, honestly in shock.

‘I know everything. That comes with being a mom.’

Vanessa agrees. ‘My mommy knows everything.’

‘That’s not true,’ Henry retorts. ‘No one on earth knows everything.’

Vanessa takes a bite of her pancake, thinks about her answer and eventually says: ‘Well, my mommy knows a lot. More than you.’

‘Yeah, sweetheart, you tell him the facts now.’

Henry sighs deeply, before laughing. ‘Always teaming up against me. Let’s hope the new baby agrees with me more often.’

≫≫≪≪

Because I’m in desperate need for some love from Vanessa, I’m sitting in the back of the car and hold her hand. ‘Together with the terrible mood swings going to the grumpy part of my feelings, I also have been overly emotional. I cry while watching Winnie the Pooh, the drawings Vanessa makes, make me end up bawling like a baby and sometimes when Henry and I are in bed, I just start to sniffle, simply because he gives me a kiss.

I can’t wait for the pregnancy to be over and to hold our new little baby, hoping that the hormones will normalize a bit.

I look at Henry through the rearview mirror and I can’t hide my smile anymore. I’m so happy right now, it’s disgusting really. When I’m at his mom’s place, we talk about life and she says that though she loves her husband dearly and he was an angel throughout her pregnancies, it’s nothing compared to how Henry is with me.

When we arrived at the maternity clinic, Vanessa sits on Henry’s lap, as she looks around the waiting room. ‘Mommy, how are you feeling?’

‘I’m feeling good, sweetheart.’

‘Are you nervous?’ She resits on his laps and places her hands on my stomach. I hate it when people outside my family touch my stomach, it makes me want to punch then in de face, but when she does it, I feel so loved, I feel so beautiful. Vanessa makes sure that I’m happy and that I feel good about myself. She is an honest angel.

‘I’m not. I’m excited.’

‘Me too.’

We are the next to be called in and Vanessa is sitting on Henry’s knee, as I lay on the examination chair. I pull up my shirt and the doctor squirts some cold gel on my skin. ‘Are we ready to find out whether you get a baby sister or brother?’ I love how the doctor involves Vanessa in this exciting day.

We hear the baby’s heartbeat filling the room and I already get emotional, something that was inevitable, because hearting their heartbeat always makes me cry. I hold onto Henry’s hand and he clears his throat, before he kisses my fingers. ‘Okay, this is the baby’s head,’ the doctor explains, as she points to the screen. She continues to look at the baby and say: ‘This baby looks really strong, so that’s good.’

‘Is it a boy or girl?’ Vanessa asks with a smile.

‘Let’s take a good look at that, shall we?’ With a frown between her brows, she tries to get the best view and eventually she smiles. ‘Well congratulations, Cavill family,’ she says, ‘you are going to add a little girl to the mix.’

I just hope that they do work now, because Tumblr has been being a little bitch about this for quite some time! Please let me know if you have received a notification!

Taglist: @thelastsock // @flhorah // @sausagefest1996 // @laufeysodinson // @xxxkatxo // @memoriesat30 // @henrythickcavill // @crimsonrae // @henryobsessed // @madbaddic7ed // @summersong69 // @lyrafraiser // @peakygroupie // @coldmuffinbanditshoe // @mary-ann84 // @thereisa8ella //@crazyandanonymous4u // @xuxszx // @emmaofgreengabbles // @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair // @onlyhenrys // @omgkatinka // @oddsnendsfanfics // @speakerforthedead0 // @agniavateira // @gearhead66 // @chamomilebottom // @diegos-butt

#henry cavill #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x oc #mister cavill your dog is kinda fat #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x Olivia Tran

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yamithediaperdork · 3 years

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Harry potter and the set of trigger words part 1 (..harry potter...duh.)

A odd fact not known to many, as it turned out your normal run of the mill wizard was actually quite easier to put under trance and implant key words even with only a basic knowledge of hypnotism. This would be a fact Harry discovered to his delight having gotten interested in it over the course of a summer and trying it out for fun on the train ride to Hogwarts. Of course with him using it on his friend the triggers were just harmless ones, like every time Ron would hear a five sharp knocks on a door he'd bark like a dog, Or Hermione becoming a stereotype ditz if she was offered bubble gum till the flavor ran out. He also quickly removed said trigger once they got to the school and erased the memory of the act of them ever being in place. However, encouraged by the success of his little experiment, Harry would slowly work his way up with more and more amusing/twisted triggers on students he wasn't all that fond of till he came up with the perfect set for one blond haired prat: Draco Malfoy. Getting the blond twat monkey alone to work his mojo hadn't of been easy, but once it was done and Harry had removed the memory of the triggers even being place, it was time to sit back and have some fun. Still Harry tried to at least be semi fair about it, and promised himself to only use his new found powers if Draco was being a true and utter pain in the backside. which, again, this was Draco we were talking about, only took all of a day from the planting.

"ugh, did somebody cut the cheese?" Draco asked, walking into the dinning area and moving pass Harry, Ron and Hermione. He paused and then leaned down, taking a over the top sniff of Ron and then held his nose. "oh guess not, it's just a weasley!" He said and laughed, prompting his two loyal thugs to laugh with him even if the dim look on their faces meant they didn't get the joke. "really? reduced to making fart jokes Draco?" Hermione asked and rolled her eyes, moving in a bit closer to Ron and then wrinkling her own nose. the red head had skipped a shower after practice that day and well, did smell a bit ripe. "Ha! See? even you think he stinks!" Draco crowed and hooted with laughter. "You know Draco, it's not nice to tease others. Ron will smell fine once he gets a shower in but YOU'LL always just be a 'dirty boy'" Harry said, sipping some pumpkin juice and smirking. "Really? thats the best..you..got..?" Draco scoffed back but suddenly he felt weird and found himself starting to pop a squat. "ah..what are you doing?" Crab asked. Draco went to answer with his mouth, but a blast of ass gas from his rear handled the reply for him and then as his thugs looked on in disbelief and Hermione and Ron and Harry looked on with amusement, the back of Draco's jeans started to puff out as a horrid stench filled the area. "Is he crapping himself?" Ron asked, laughing and pinching his nose shut. "N-No! I'm not a stinky baby pants pooper!" Draco whined and then even as he was clearly fighting himself, he popped his thumb into his mouth and started to suckle on it as he kept destroying the seat of his pants. "I guess Draco's jealous of Ron's stink and wants to top it~ 'Isn't that right baby Draco?'" Harry asked. Hermione was moving back to the other side of the table where the air was a little fresher but had to turn and watch in amusement as now only did the teary eyed blond nod his head up and down, helpless to refuse the command but he also lisped around his thumb making drool run down. "Yesh 'arry. Ous wight." Draco whimpered and as he finished with the back of his pants, he closed his eyes and relaxed his bladder soaking the front. "Gah watch it!" Ron cried up, jumping up on the table before the smelly puddle the blond was making could reach him. Crab and Goyle had like wise stepped back away from Draco in part to avoid the puddle and the smell and to avoid being seen as besties with the pants pooping dork. Harry had been about to unleash his next command but instead decided to call off the torment for the moment as a certain raven haired potions master was storming towards Draco and did NOT look pleased. "Head's up stinky boy, your uncles coming." Harry advised and leaned back, casually munching on a slice of pie. 'dinner and a show..never a dull moment at Hogwarts.' he thought. Sadly it wasn't much of a show as Snape just wordlessly took Draco by the ear and led him off, taking the time to turn around and use a spell to clean up the mess the blond had left behind. "heh, I'd like to be a fly on the wall for that conversation." Ron mused. "Which the smell coming off of him flies wouldn't look out of place either." Hermione giggled, and that set them all off laughing.

it wasn't till they were in the relative quiet of the dorm room (a glare from Snape had sent the few slytherin's who had been sitting in the common room scampering off) That Snape finally spoke up to the blushing and ashamed Draco. "I thought you were done with this childish behavior after we had that talk during the summer young man." Snape said. "I..I wasn't doing it on purpose! Someone muse of cursed me or something!" Draco whined pathetically. this couldn't of been worse for the blond, his body just betraying him like that after that summer while Uncle Snape had been visiting he'd caught Draco purposely soiling himself and bouncing in it! "Considering you've been with your friends all day and no one took out a wand in the dinning room, I think that's highly unlikely." Snape said dryly. "Do you remember what I told you before?" Draco started to full on bawl and rub at his eyes, which combined with his soiled garments made him look like a over sized toddler. "T-That if you caught me messing m-myself like a little boy again y-you'd dress me to fit the role.." Draco sobbed. "Please! I'm telling you, it wasn't on purpose! give me anther chance!!" "It's against my better judgement to do so..but I also don't wanna be the uncle of the only nappy lad waddling around the school. there will be NO more chances though young man, do I make myself clear?" Snape asked. If Draco hadn't of already let all of his wee out in the dinning room, he would of soaked his pants here at the tone of his uncles voice and hiccuped and nodded. "Oh for heavens sake.." Snape sighed and waved his wand, a oversized green soother popping into Draco's mouth and the poor lad found himself forced to suckle on it. he couldn't even seem to tug it out of his mouth and whimpered and pointed at it, looking at his Uncle. "It'll come out once you get cleaned up. and after you're clean, strait to bed. no supper for pants pooper's." Snape said and then walked over, leaving the confused and ashamed boy the less then pleasant task of cleaning up. 'I just know Potters behind this somehow..' Draco thought and due to the heavy load in his seat, he was forced to waddle to the bathroom to clean up. the only saving grace of everything was that Draco was so tiny downstairs his uncle had never been able to notice that despite how ashamed and humiliated he was, Draco was rock hard.

word of Draco's accident spread like wild fire though the school and even though the teachers tried to encourage a forgive and forget policy Draco had simply made too many enemies in the school and was forced to endure multiple taunts, and worse, well meaning teachers calling him up to their desks several times a class and asking if he needed to use the rest room. the consent teasing had a effect of making Draco keep his fat mouth shut for a change and true to his earlier self promise Harry left him alone, though lord knows he longed to test the rumor he'd heard that Snape was prepared to put Draco back in nappies should he have anther accident.

At dinner that evening Harry noticed that Draco was sitting alone, other students had bunched in together as close as possible just to avoid being near him 'in case he went off' again. Feeling a tiny bit of guilt Harry, after clearing it with Ron and Hermione, got up to go and invite the poor git to sit with them. Draco was munching slowly on a piece of bread, resting his head on a fist and staring off with a million mile stare when Harry got his attention. "Hey Draco, I wa-" Harry started but was cut off as Draco yelped and jumped, snapped out of his daze. this got more laughs from the other students and Draco fumed and blushed as he glared at harry. "What do YOU want?" he huffed. "I was wondering if you wanted to come over and sit with me and my friends..you look a little lonely." Harry said, forcing down the urge to make Draco disgrace himself. the blond HAD had a rough day after all. "Do you really think I've sunk THAT low I'll take your pity just like that potter?" Draco huffed and leaned forward. "I don't know how, but I know for a FACT that somehow you were behind what happened yesterday. So thank you, fuck you." and Draco tossed the rest of the bread in his hand at Harry's head. "BYE!" eye twitching Harry clenched a fist and for a second thought of taking a swing at the brat, but again cooler heads prevailed because to be honest, Draco had EVERY right to be pissed with Harry and was on the nose. Still, he couldn't just let that go away totally unpunished and snorted. "Fine whatever. 'Why don't you just sit her and sulk while you suck on your thumb!'" Harry said and turned to leave, knowing even without the laughter that started up that Draco had just started to nurse on his thumb like a pouty toddler. the thumb sucking command would only last for 5 minutes but it was enough to get even more laughter directed Draco's way and a look of disdain from Snape. by the time he was able to free his thumb for his needy mouth Draco would have a extra nick name to go with Potty pants Malfoy: Sucky baby Draco.

with what happened in the dining room proving to Draco for sure that Harry had SOME form of a hold over him, he had planned to go over all the books and scrolls available in the common room to try and figure it out. He was willing to pull a all nighter if that's what it took. However the other slytherin's had other plans. "oi, isn't it past little thumb suckers bed time? it's going on 7:30 after all." Crab asked, blocking his path to the book shelf and smirking. "Bugger off, you know I can keep later hours." Draco said and and went to move around him. "you know.." Pansy said in her smug voice. "I heard that if widdle Draco her makes anther mess in his undies, it's back to nappies for the wholllle year~" Draco gulped and paled a little, noting how Goyle was coming up behind him now and back stepped away for his clearly ex thugs and friends. "I..I mean..G-guys c-come on.." Draco whimpered, realizing just how out classed he was in a physical fight have like a doofus having forgot his wand in his room. "So it IS true!" Pansy said and let out a shrill laugh. "I think you should just get it over with BABY Draco. Snape's coming back any time now and can see you in all your smelly glory again." Crab chuckled. "I..Uh..I don't even have to.." Draco mewed and held up his hands. "oh, you need help disgracing yourself? All you had to do was ask." Goyle said and unleashed a powerful gut punch that sent spit flying out of Draco's mouth and sank him down to his knees holding his gut, looking up at a sneering Goyle who added. "what are friends for?" the fear had been working his bladder like crazy and Draco had had maybe one too many drinks of milk at dinner because the force of the blow had his poor bladder unleash and for the second in for the second night in a row, he started to flood his pants. "Hahahaha the baby is wetting himself!" Pansy laughed then turned to see Snape standing there. "Professor! you're just in time! Draco wet himself! are you gonna put him in nappies now?" Draco was sniffling and tears welling up in his eyes as he turned to look at his uncle, who strolled over with a look of anger on his face and taking out his wand. "U-Uncle Snape Please I-" Draco started, but then Goyle, Pansy and Crab suddenly turned upside down and were floating in the air, "How utterly stupid do you three believe me to be to think that you could fool me like that?" Snape asked in a quiet voice full of rage. "even if I hadn't of been standing there and seen the last little bit of that, you really think I wouldn't of found the bruise?" he added and started to move his wand up and down shaking the three bullies and making them knock together before dropping them in a heap on the ground. "W-We're sorry!" Yelped Goyle, who was the first to scrabble to his feet. "Won't happen again!" Crab added getting up. "Totally hands off!" Pansy finished and got to her feet. "Oh no, you'll be hands on. If ANYONE else threatens Draco with physical violence, or worse..carries it out, it'll be YOU three I blame and come after. so it's in your best interest to make he stays relatively safe. That said, a little verbal humiliation will do him good, but Hand.Off. Do I make myself clear or do you need anther demonstration?" the three got the point and scrambled off and as Snape went to turn to Draco he got the soaked and smelly boy glomping his waist and whimpering out thanks, getting snot on him. "thank you thank you thank you!" '...I'm getting soft in my old age.' Snape thought dryly and ruffled the boys hair and then lead the way to the bathrooms to get him cleaned up.

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zamilemzizi · 3 years

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A trip down lockdown memory lane!

A trip down memory lane

As my business steadily builds itself back up, with a new face and some Covid-influenced changes, I look back at what it was like for a few months last year as just the “Mom.” The South African lockdown, one of the strictest in the world at that time, forced most of us Marketing and PR SME owners to close our doors and focus on creating a safe and “new normal” environment for ourselves and our families.

My parents both contracted the Corona Virus and so, it was left up to me to care for ALL five grandchildren for a few months. Including my own children, I had two five-year-olds’ (one boy; Wandi and one girl; Koli), one nine-year-old girl (Thotse), a twelve-year-old girl (Lungi) and the legend himself, my two-year-old son (Bugsy) whom you will have read a lot about on my personal Facebook page. As if that was not enough, we rescued an eight-week-old puppy (Luna) too!

Being a person known for preferring the company of all the Mzizi grandchildren, I was up for the challenge of this time spent being reacquainted with the daily struggle of just-being-the-mom-with-no-work without the pressure of having to go to work.

I acknowledge that my experience of this time is grossly different to that of a majority of my fellow countrymen/women, who struggled to make ends meet. Zam’s Hive started a fund, which generously received funds donated by almost ALL of my clients, close friends and colleagues from my place of work. We used these funds to assist families who wrote in via WhatsApp and SMS stating what their urgent needs were and paired them with the correct donor. I was astounded at how the people I knew were able to look beyond their own experience of the Lockdown, and were able to give the little (or lot) that they had to keep hope alive.

However, being the stay-at-home mom yielded quite a few hilarious experiences, which naturally, I shared on social media as they happened. Here are some of these posts. I hope they make you chuckle a bit at my expense. I hope they remind you that no matter how bleak the situation, our inner circle, our families, our children, the people that matter most to us are the ones we should keep our focus on.

How the wars began…

Wandi’s benevolent fart

Raising boys is a BREEZE!

My Wandi has reached that age where every hug and cuddle is a conscious decision on his part to be with me. It says, ' I choose to be near YOU. I choose you, mommy'

So imagine my joy as I was working in my office and my big boy chose that moment to sit on my lap...

He sat facing me, flashed his special smile and said' 'Mommy, let me show you how much I love you'

He put his hands on my shoulders and closed his beautiful brown eyes. I could see him mentally reaching deep within himself in order to share what he had to say. Then...

I felt it. A persistent drill-like hammering on my sturdy thigh where his bony bum was perched.

The stench was instant and the fog it created in my mind was confusion personified. I could not immediately compute that my baby came all this way just to fart on me. As realization dawned on me, my little angel held onto me just a little bit tighter to keep me in place as the hammer-drill was still operating. My thin leggings were no barrier from the barrage of bodily functions battering my poor skin.

During this assault, Wandi did not change his facial expression at all. He looked like a little Buddha bestowing a blessing upon a lesser mortal.

When he was done, he nimbly sprang off my leg and bestowed a beguiling cherubic smile upon me. Slowly reversing from the room with his cheesy smile and eyes closed, he blessed me with his benevolent ' enjoy the smell mommy' and quietly closed the door.

Bugsy drinks shit water

I'm on my knees begging for this changeling to be taken. Return Bugsy pre-terrible twos to me please!

I went into the toilet for a teensy while. I'd been holding it in for some time chasing my kids around. To my knowledge, fake Bugsy was safely chilling on my bed.

As my empty bladder and I float out the bathroom, changeling proudly displays a cup of water he is drinking...now this is a problem because all taps and cups are beyond his reach. This cup looks like the dirty one I ignored on the floor a teensy while back- are you judging me Karen?!

I frantically urge fake son to show me if he got water from the other toilet. He proudly replies, ' I no drink here Wandi peepee here' This is good. It's great actually. Wandi has diarrhea and drinking from his toilet could kill someone. Never mind Corona.

So I drag the smirking not-really-my-son into the kitchen to wash this mysterious cup. At this stage I'm fuming at the lord thinking 'turn this crap into wine NOW'

As I wash the still alcohol free cup, I turn to find swopped-at-birth guy smacking his lips and drinking from the bucket mqobothi style.

MY HEART SKIPS A BEAT!

I used water and Jik to clean dog poop just now. I spilled the water but clearly not all of it. What's worse here? Jik poisoning or dog poop poisoning?

The terror child is ok. I gave him milk and surrendered the rest to his creator.

I'm ok. I have a new twitch in my eye and I think I might have peed my pants a little. But otherwise baaah I'm good.

No really.

Just fine.

Look- fake son took the tin of milk and smeared the stuff on himself.

I'm just FINE!

Then the tensions were rising

The stand off

In a bid to demonstrate his defiance of my authority, my two year old has taken the long life milk and some shopping bags to an undesirable corner of the house. He has boldly announced that, 'I puttinnnin me in noty cona' This is his strategy to deprive my authority of putting him in a corner myself. The standoff continues...

Sulking in the shower

I swear I don't make this stuff up...

Wandi just played with matches and his cousins came to tell on him. Naturally I gave him 'the look' times 10. He says to me,

'I know you're cross with me and wont talk to me.'

He stalks off to the shower and sits there while singing his new and spontaneously composed struggle song. The words weren't too clear but this is what I heard:

Take me away in peace, take me away in peace.

Please note he has taken to eating some of his meals in this shower.

Can someone please send me a bottle of gin??! Its for the kids.

The breaking point

Exacting revenge in small ways

My kids broke my hair clippers machine while I was cutting them. So now I'm leaving them with unfinished cuts because one needs to take revenge wherever the opportunity may present itself-even if it's your own kids. They think they know me. Mxim!

Mom flu strike

I've been in bed with flu for a week now. During this my kids haven't given me an inch of space and rest.

I'm still a horse, jungle gym, chef, personal snot cleaner and unwilling audience to dance shows and song decompositions.

Tonight was just the worst! I went to the chemist for more meds and so needed a nap from the trip. Only to realize that I'd over slept and it was supper time.

After a mad dash to cook, serve and feed the royal highnesses, I'd had enough.

Where am I now? What am I doing now? These are all relevant questions I'm happy to answer for you.

I'm in my bedroom. For the first time since I became a mother, I have done the only sensible thing a tired parent can do...

I'VE LOCKED MY BEDROOM DOOR BIYAAACHES!

The situation update is as follows:

Hostile!

1. Two year old has attempted breaking door down

I DON'T CARE!

2. Five year old has resorted to creepy body plastering against door and quietly chanting 'mooommyyyy can we have ice cream while you die?'

I DON'T CARE

3. In a rare show of solidarity the boys are now howling like wolves outside the door, throwing in the odd 'moooommmy where are youuuu'

I D O N T C A R E!

4. Nine year old niece has increased the volume and frequency of her coughing

IIIIIIIII DOOOOOOOONT CAAAAAAARE!

I'm at peace in my warm bed. Let the siege continue I have all that I need in here. A bathroom, all the toilet paper in the house, the only phone with airtime and did I mention -I'm the only person tall enough to cook. Muhahuahua!

They will know me!

The resolution?

Wandi prays for peace

So as usual the kids were acting up and driving me crazy before bedtime. This time however, the transgressions were extreme.

Someone didn't pee INSIDE the toilet but decided to mark his territory next to it instead.

Another decided to generously leave food on a dinner plate and put it in the kitchen sink for Santa maybe.

Another was dejectedly roaming the passage without pajama bottoms like a homeless person. Left to wander the night in shame and bottomlessness.

This was the last straw and I blew my top off.

EVERYONE TO BED WITHOUT A STORY NOW!

Even the little one understood that Armageddon was nigh, and scurried into bed as fast as his fat stubby legs could carry him (only half way up the bed usually).

In an unusually respectful and hesitant tone, Wandi bravely reminded me that I forgot to pray. So fine! I asked God to please help me make my children good etc.

Wandi again bravely offered to pray too and this is where he played his master plan into action (he never wants to pray):

Wandi: Dear God, please make all my dreams come true. The end.

Yes. He said the end and not AMEN. I felt a reluctant smile coming on but I was wise to the enemy.

The next morning the kids all came to greet me in that way guilty kids do hoping for a cease-fire.

'Good morning rakhali' etc.

Then the master played his Ace move.

Wandi: In the name of Jesus, good morning everyone!

How could I remain grumpy after my son evoked the name of Jesus?!

He's goooooood. One point to Wandi. None to me.

Please subscribe to my blog and follow me on social media for more insights into; what goes on in the life of a working mom building an empire. All the links are below. My women’s network as well as my courses are also available on this site.

#workingmama #workingmom #zamshive #liveyourbestlife #zamilemzizi #startsomething

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lwilson · 3 years

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the boy we knew

The day we found out the tragic news was a beautiful autumn afternoon. I think it was a Saturday and the leaves were turning colors and gathering in mounds of reds, yellows, and greens at the base of the trees in front of the small houses on the block. I had just enlisted in the Army and I wanted to see my friend Ramone before I went off to basic training at Fort Sill in Oklahoma.

Alan, another close friend of Ramone and mine worked at an industrial laundry company called C.Q’s. over on East Grand Blvd and Palmer street. He detested the job, the pay, and the people, but with times being what they were, and jobs being few and far between during the Reagan era recession of the 1980s it was the only job that he could get so he took it, and fought tooth and nails to keep it. I had worked at C.Q’s. as well, and speaking from personal experience I will tell you that there should have been a sign engraved over the entrance that read “All hope abandon, ye who enter here,” like at the gates of hell in Dante’s “Inferno”. I lasted all of six weeks before hell got to be too hot for me to handle. So, I quit and joined the Army.

Alan, on the other hand, stayed and with good reason, his girlfriend Kacy was pregnant now which only exacerbated an already stressful situation. They were beyond broke and argued constantly about everything. I can’t remember how many break up to make up sessions they had, but it was a lot.

Kacy was a feisty streetwise girl with the misfortune of having two train wrecks for parents. The only thing keeping Kacy and her little brother Steven from being homeless and on the streets or worse was Kacy’s wit and her strong will. Kacy was the type of girl that could smell bullshit coming a mile away. She’d smile her sweet slightly crooked smile at the bullshitter, usually some guy way to old to be hitting on a girl her age then she’d kick him in the nuts verbally and sometimes literally and down he’d go. She and Alan were perfect for one another they were the embodiment of Detroit tough. Her biological father was a real winner. I never knew his name or met him, but I heard from Alan that he was doing some serious time up in Jackson penitentiary. Jasmine, her mother was a part-time recovering addict and a full time, well let’s just say the word I would like to call her rhymes with witch.

Kacy and Steven were little more than afterthoughts Jasmine. Jasmine’s major concern was when and where her next fix was coming from, raising a blossoming fifteen-year-old girl and a high strung twelve- year -old boy with criminal tendencies wasn’t high on Jasmine’s to-do list. Kacy and Steven were mostly left to fend for themselves. Kacy, I figured would be alright. She was tough and street smart, but Steven on the other hand was a different story. The first time I saw him strutting up and down the block like a little banty rooster with his nearly translucent white skin and unruly red curls bouncing about his shoulders as he made his way up Farnsworth Avenue, blustering and picking fights with anyone that crossed his path. I knew he was on borrowed time.

Steven was a twig of a boy with visions of grandeur. He was the outlaw son of the outlaw father he never met or knew. A little boy with a major Napolean complex walking around with a boulder on his shoulder daring anyone to knock it off, and many did knock it off and much worse. Undeterred, Steven had decided that being a so-called outlaw was in his blood and that was the way he was going to go.

I watched as Steven began to take up with the absolute worse elements in the neighborhood. Kacy had asked Alan to talk with him, then she asked me, but nothing worked, he was bound and determined to go the way of the wicked, a decision that would cost him his life. When he was 18 or 19 years old I don’t remember which. Steven’s brutally beaten and stabbed body was found in a burnt-out drug den near Woodard Ave.

*****

Kacy’s mother’s boyfriend Bulldog was a small-time weed dealer who liked getting underaged girls high and drunk so that he could take advantage of them sexually. He had tried this move on Stacy a few times when Jasmine wasn’t around or either blackout in one of the upstairs bedrooms, but Kacy always managed to escape unscathed. It was only a matter of time she knew before he would take what he wanted from her the way he did with Tammy, a young Korean girl from up the block. When he did come for her, Kacy and her four-inch steak knife she slept with would be waiting. She told me and Alan that she would kill him before she let him have her. Kacy was right, Bulldog did come for her a few nights later and she had managed to fight him off but cutting him with her knife. When Alan got the news he was furious and although she told him that she had the situation under control I knew that there was no way that Alan would let that kind of thing go.

Bulldog received an anonymous ass-kicking one wintery Michigan morning. Still high or drunk from partying the night before Bulldog staggered out on the icy porch and fell. His feet slipped and slid underneath him then shoot out from under him. The first thing that hit the porch was his fat girlish ass. His ass bounced off the ice, his feet flew into the air, he farted, then his head slammed into the ice-covered wooden porch.

“Motherfucker!” he whined. His voice sounded super high and tinny in the still earlier morning. He lay there for a moment breathing heavily and making a strange sound, a mixture of groans and whimpers.

“ Fat Fucks crying,” Alan whispered barely containing his laughter.

“You think,” I asked amazed and tilted my head toward the porch and sure enough he was crying. Bulldog always played the tough guy and now he was out here crying because he fell and bumped his head. What a fuckin cooze.

“Damn,” I said shaking my head.

After a few minutes, Bulldog pulled himself together and tried to stand up. His feet slid back and forth beneath him and he fell again. His ungloved hand slapped down hard on the icy wooden rail. He yelped like a kicked dog and yanked his hand back and tumbled backward off the porch. He rolled down the four or five front steps and landed flat on his back in the walkway and once again the water work’s started up. Alan and I could believe it. We knew Bulldog was more bark than bite, but we couldn’t believe how soft he really was. This guy was a cream puff. After a few seconds, Bulldog got to his feet and staggered toward his 1970 Chevrolet Monte Carlo, red with a white interior, a very nice car. As he reached for the door handle he looked up and got knocked out. We heard that Jasmine found him lying face down in the snow with a bloody nose, ears, and a broken hand twenty minutes later. A few days later Tammy’s family contacted the police about Tammy’s sexual assault, but by the time they got around to investigating it, Bulldog was gone. West Virginia, that’s where I heard he went, and surprise, surprise, he ended up in jail for statutory rape a few years later.

*****

“What are you going to do,” I asked Alan after he told me about Kacy’s pregnancy. He looked sick.

“ Got to marry her I guess,” he said staring down at the floor.

“ You guess?”

“Yeah, what else can I do. We ain’t having no fucking abortion.”

“ I never suggested…”

“ I know. I’m sorry. I’m so fucked right now.”

“What about money,”

“ I got the job over at C.Qs. Tony’s gonna have to give me a raise.”

“Tony’s not going to give you a raise.”

“Why not?”

“Because he just gave you one a few weeks ago. Why don’t you join the Army with me,” I said? Alan shook his head.

“Forget that, I ain’t going into no Army.”

“ You’ll make more money in the Army then you will working at C.Qs.” Alan thought about it then shook his head again.

“ Nah, we’ll be alright, we’ll manage,” he said.

“You still driving me to the airport?” I asked really wishing my friend would come with me.

“Yeah, If you want me to.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’m heading over to Ramone’s. I’d like to see him before I go.”

“I’ll drive,” Alan said quickly and grabbed his car keys.

*****

Although it had been a few years since we had last seen him, I still considered Ramone a good friend and I wanted to see him before I went off to basic training. Ramone’s street was quiet as it always was when we were kids. Alan parked in front of Ramone’s house and killed the engine.

“I can’t believe he still lives here,” Alan said absently as he looked up and down the short block.

“His parents left him and his sister the house is what I heard,” I said as I looked around.

“Fuck that, I would sell, I wouldn’t want to live around here now.”

Alan and I got out of his Ford Talon and walked up the thin paved walkway up to the house. Everything about the place seemed smaller and shabbier. It was the same small house on E. Palmer that Ramone and his family had lived in when we all went to Ferry Elementary. Going there was like stepping back in time. Many of the same families and small business owners were still there. “Young’s Barbeque” on Mt. Elliot and East Grand Blvd, was still there at the time, “Thompson’s cleaners”, on McDougall and Ferry was still there, and my favorite penny candy store “Frank’s Beer &Wine” on the corner of Ferry and Mt. Elliot, my old block was still there at the time.

That was years ago, they are all gone now, even Ferry Elementary is gone now. Torn down by the city leaving a gigantic black hole where our childhood once stood. An obscene black scar the size of an entire city block with scattered houses and overrun weed fields.

As Alan and I walked toward the small blockhouse my mind drifted back to when I first met Ramone in Mrs. Drum’s class when we were in the fourth grade. I wanted to be Ramone’s friend. It took a while, but slowly but surely he started opening up to me. I remember sitting at our table waiting for the class to start. Alan for whatever reason wasn’t in school that day. Ramone and I sat quietly waiting then he turned to me and look me directly in the eyes. His voice was calm and splashed with a hint of contempt for me.

“ Do you like Alan better than me because he’s white,” he asked. My views on race and culture were still in the development stages so this question caught me completely off guard. As I sit here today writing this, I can almost hear his flat monotonic voice.

“ I don’t like Alan better than you,” I said quickly.

“You don’t,” he asked slightly surprised.

“No, why would I? I like you both the same,” I said.

“For real,” he smiled. It was a rare thing to see Ramone smile.

“Yeah, sure I do. Maybe I’ll ask my mom to see if she’ll let me have company this weekend.”

“Spend a night,” he asked excitedly.

“Yeah, you haven’t spent a night yet,” I said.

A cloud suddenly came over his dark features and his smile slowly faded.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. He looked down at the table and began to fidget with a piece of torn notebook paper.

“You going to invite Alan too,” he looked up and asked cautiously.

“I was going to, why?”

“ Oh,” he said and looked down at his torn piece of paper again, “Then I can’t come.”

“ Why not, should I not invite Alan, I thought you liked Alan?”

“I do. Alan and I are best buds,” he hesitated, “ It’s just that if my mom and dad knew that Alan is going to be there… I don’t think they’ll let me come over.” I looked at him confused for a moment then I remembered Alan telling me about how Ramone’s parents weren’t too keen on him having white friends.

“ My mom would talk to your mom and let her know that you’ll be safe.”

“I know,” he hesitated, “ It’s just that if Alan’s there they won’t let me come.”

“Why not,” I asked even though I already knew the answer. I needed to hear him say it. I don’t know why, but I did. So, he did say it.

“My mom and dad don’t want me playing or hanging around them.” He motioned with his head toward a table of white children.

“Oh,” I said, “why not?”

“They’re white,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Oh,” was all I could think to say.

“My dad says you can’t really trust them and that most of them look down on us black people. They think we’re all on the welfare, or on drugs, or crooks,” he said.

“No, they don’t.”

“My dad says they do.”

“I’ve been to Alan’s house…” I started to say before he interrupted me.

“Your mom and dad let you go over there?” He asked shocked.

“Yeah, and his mom and dad treated me real nice too. They never looked down on me. I even ate dinner over there once.”

“ I bet they think you’re poor now. They gave you charity, see,” he said raising his voice slightly.

“ My dad works at Ford Motor Company, that’s a good job. We’re not poor, my dad’s a boss or something.” I said.

“ I know you’re not, but I bet they think you are.”

“They don’t. They’re nice every time I go over there.”

“ My dad says we shouldn’t do that. He says we should stick to our own kind.”

“ You want to spend the night or not?”

“Alan going to be there?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Just don’t tell your mom and dad.”

He looked at me as if I had just suggested that we rob a bank.

“You mean lie?”

“No, just if they don’t ask you about Alan don’t tell them.” Ramone smiled again and nodded. Ramone was never allowed to spend the night. His parents just wouldn’t let him do it.

On the day of our visit to Ramone’s house, Alan’s family and my family had moved out of the neighborhood and had been out for years by this point. My family moved out right after I graduated from Ferry in 1979. We moved to a quiet middle-class neighborhood about ten miles from where we lived on Mt Elliot Street. The neighborhood was strikingly different than the one we had left. These were tree-lined streets with manicured yards. Our neighbor Mr. Traminski literally had a white picket fence around his yard. It looked like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. When my family moved in the neighborhood was predominantly white with a few black, Asian, and Arab families sprinkled in for good measure. By the late 80s rolled around almost all the white families had moved out. White flight is what they called it, I guess. Mr. Traminski was one of the first to go. I guess we liked him more than he liked us.

Alan’s family moved out of the old neighborhood around 1983. In this period, Alan and I had become as close as two friends could be, while Ramone whose family never left the old neighborhood began to drift from our orbit. We tried to keep in touch with him but were unable to regularly. All and all, Alan and I had been away from the old neighborhood off and on for almost nine years and at that time, we might have seen Ramone five or six times. The times we did see him he didn’t seem quite right. He seemed tight, and a little off-kilter.

By 1985 Alan and I were high school graduates with our whole lives laid out in front of us. I looked as if I was about to embark on a promising college football career, Ramone had been accepted into several really good universities, and Alan had gotten a job at a paper manufacturing plant.

*****

“This neighborhood has gone to shit,” I said as I scanned my surroundings. I looked out toward the empty lot where Ferry Elementary once stood. The last time Alan and I had been in the neighborhood Ferry Elementary was still standing It had been closed and torn down for years by the next time Alan and I rolled around.

“To shit and then some,” Alan said. I looked up at the cool cloudless sky. A tiny barely visible plane flew by overhead. A reflective dot high above it all creeping across the cobalt sky dipping in and out of sight. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes. I could almost feel the earth rotating, even though I knew that it wasn’t possible, still, it made me feel dizzy. I took a half a step back to avoid staggering, then opened my eyes.

“I bet Ramone’s heading off to Yale or Princeton or some other ivory league school partly because of his grades and partly because he’s black. Affirmative action,” Alan said out of the blue. I slowly turned to him not believing what I was hearing.

“What,” I said my anger was bubbling just below the surface.

“ I bet I couldn’t get in,” he said sharply.

“Yeah, because you don’t have the grades.”

“ I’m just saying,” he shrugged.

The front door swung open and Serina stepped out onto the porch. Serina’s, Ramone’s little sister. She had smooth chocolate skin and wide brown eyes, she looked like a black Barbie doll. She stared at us with a blank expression. She didn’t recognize us. Before that day I remembered Serina as a slightly chubby happy-go-lucky little girl running and playing with her friends on the playground with her protective older brother Ramone always keeping one eye out for her and the other eye out for us. The chubby little girl that used to be too shy to look at me was gone and had been replaced with this beautiful stern woman standing before us in the partially opened screen door.

“Can I help you,” She asked while subtly looking us over.

“Serina,” I said cautiously.

“Yes,” she said without looking at me. Her eyes were fixed on Alan.

“I’m Luke and this is Alan,” I said, “We’re friends of Ramone. Is he here?” She turned to me, her jaw tightened and her eyebrows came together in a tight knot.

“What,” she said, the words came out in a breathy whisper. Her expression softened.

“ Is he home?” I asked. Serina looked at me for a long moment then she turned and looked at Alan. I could see the light bulb coming on. She slowly raised a finger and pointed it at me.

“ Your Luke?” She asked. I nodded and motioned toward Alan.

“ And that’s Alan, do you remember us?” She nodded and stepped out onto the porch closing the screen door behind her.

“Where have you guys been?” she asked in a thin wavey voice. Alan and I looked at one another confused.

“Excuse me,” Alan asked.

“Ramone is dead,” she said in a voice that suggested that she was still struggling with the realization of what had happened. The news was devastating.

“What, when,” Alan and I asked in unison.

“He walked into traffic,” she said in a voice strangled with emotion. “ a truck hit and killed.”

“Where did it happen,” I asked.

“He was on Mt Elliot when it happened.”

“How could this have happened?” I thought. “We were all good friends, weren’t we? How could it be that this was the first we were hearing of this?” I looked at Alan he was standing with his jaw gapped and unhinged looking glossy-eyed and confused. Alan and I stood there on her front porch like mute idiots as Serina dropped the bombshell on us. My brain went foggy and felt warped and wobbled and I jerked my head to the left to shake off the cobwebs. I couldn’t believe it.

“Suicide,” Alan muttered in a low husky voice. I was trying to think of something to say, but my mind was blank.

“I’m sorry,” Serina said. “I thought you guys knew,” she paused, “I thought everyone knew by now.”

“By now,” Alan asked, “How long has he been gone?”

“Three years,” She said matter-of-factly, “ I thought all his true friends knew,” she said bitterly as she glared at us.

“No,” I said shaking my head. She cocked her head to the right and looked at me with her big doll-like brown eyes. She had the kind of eyes that made grown men stutter if she looked directly at you and she was looking directly into the eyes. My mind went blank. Serina was studying me with those eyes, looking for signs of a lie. I understood what she was doing so I held her gaze until she looked away. Ramone had killed himself on my old street. He didn’t kill himself on my block thank god. He did the deed a few blocks up near East Grand Blvd. I don’t think that I had ever known anyone that had committed suicide before or since.

As sad as Ramone’s suicide was I’m sure he was now in a better place. Ramone was a melancholy boy from the moment I met him back in 1976 up until the last time I saw him which must have been some time in the mid-eighties. He just seemed too delicate of a human being to survive in this harsh and hateful world.

#suicide #depression #friends #friendship

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i-am-worm · 4 years

Photo

Yesterday I had to say goodbye to my companion Inca. It really hurts to think we had to say goodbye so suddenly after her health rapidly deteriorated over the last few moths. But it was the kindest thing to do after she developed cancer in her neck which was aggressively spreading into her vertebrae.

She wanted to play and walk with us but it was clear she was either in too much pain, or physically unable to due to her cancer. Seeing her try to play bow at me to initiate play...then give up after she was in pain was the hardest thing to see.

Most people would write how they were a good dog and how all dogs are good dogs, and inca was one of those good dogs!...eventually!

Totally accurate picture of what inca is doing right now. If there is a god, and they eat sandwiches, Inca has already pinched it.

I’m gonna babble about her below because I feel like it and it makes me feel better.

Inca was a rescue. Most rescue dogs just need love. Some need training and boundaries in varying degrees. Some are traumatized and need to learn to trust again. Inca was all of that and then some.

Coming to us as a stray found in Ireland it was clear she had some trauma. Afraid of men, white vans, loud revving cars and even fire dustbins; it painted us a picture of a pup who had a rough beginning.

Little did we know she’d quickly trust us and learn to come out her shell... then dash for nearest BBQ to cause havoc.

Inca was a food stealing, pond diving, trespassing, livestock bothering, small animal hunting, rubbish eating, muck loving, dog bothering, Houdini escape artist. Ok so expected I guess. she was a stray. Time for some training. We were lucky with our first rescue dog called ‘Tye’ who was neurotic but a model citizen compared to Inca.

- Inca please drop that dead dog fish. It smells as bad as your farts.

But you see inca as a little too smart for your average dog training. We quickly figured that being a Labrador and a stray- treats where the best way to get positive reinforcement in her behaviour. Comes back when called - gets a treat. And this worked! For like a day. Inca quickly figured out that if she was good for MOST of our walks and trips to the dog parks- she’d get praise and treats. THEN when it was time to go home, she run as fast as she could to do all the naughty thing she wanted to do.

So for example we had a dog park that was enclosed by peoples gardens. Inca quickly figured out which had ponds and how she could break into each garden to have a dip in the ponds. In training, she’d behave, come back when called and respond to ‘Inca no!’ and leave the gardens alone to get a teat. Then as we were getting close to home time, she’d run as fast as she could to dive in all the ponds. Belly full of treats and she got to swim. Win-win!

Photo of Inca in the garden. I took my eyes off her for 5minute to answer the phone. Within those 5minutes she had dug a hole, stolen mums pencil case to play with (you can see it in the back) and had SOMEHOW found a potato to chew. We had a compost bin but it was sealed and no one remembered throwing away an entire potato. This picture to me sums up my so called ’disreputable dog’.

She did eventually mellow and respond to training but it took a long time and a lot of effort. Deep down inside Inca was a naughty girl. But not a BAD DOG- she was never aggressive (and we very quickly made sure she was never anywhere near livestock without a good lead, just in case). But it was totally worth it. even if she knew how to push all our buttons, she ultimately just wanted a cuddle and love. When I would wake up to find her on the bed (somewhere she wasn’t allowed of course) all snuggled up to me with her head on my shoulder, I knew I have and will always love her.

- Inca and @scifer whom she was initially terrified of because he was a bloke (and a big bloke at that) but she eventually learned that he could be trusted and annoyed.

Now she’s gone I realize how lucky she really was to have us. Too many times I’ve seen or heard of people rescuing dogs only to return them because of how much training they need. Even if Inca had landed a well-meaning family- she could have easily been ‘returned’ for being so disruptive, and she’d only get worse with each hand over.

My family had just lost both dad to cancer and our previous dog Tye to cancer not long beforehand. I especially needed a focal point. I was jobless in a recession and had finished and aced my studies in a field that lacked the jobs. Inca not only filled a hole in our hearts but gave us something work to work on. Her needs gave me focus.

She was in the end a good and loyal girl. Always insisting on play whenever we hit the soft sand of the beach, rolling in the sun and grass when she was happy, barking to protect her family from intruders and never begging at the table despite being food obsessed. She was even very patient and kind to a boy with downs syndrome my mums partner used to care for. Inca was naughty girl deep down but even deeper down she was a good girl.

She was a true essence of what makes a dog. Bad and good in the end. Now a new hole is in my heart. I’m very sure me and @scifer will rescue another dog in the future because we have a lot of love to give, but it won't be for a long while yet.

- Picture of inca I did for the year of the dog.

Apt I think you’ll find. Yes it is another dead dogfish she found and would not let go of.

So here is to Inca. My utterly disreputable dog. I have and will always love you and I know you loved us. You utter pain in the butt.

Finally, I’ll end on this Pokémon shaming meme I did years ago entirely based on Inca and the things she did. Bonus chancy joke suggested by @scifer

#dog

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kondraki · 4 years

Note

what's the worst shit you've ever taken at the foundation?

July 19, 1998. About 4:39pm (time beginning). I remember it well. I hadn’t had a shit in over a day, which is unusual for me (generally I can count on a nice daily shit, which I personally think is the best way to go – no more, no less). I’m a bit worried, but not too much. Everything is quiet down there; no rumbling, no bubble guts. Now I realize my naivety. It was only the calm before the storm.

I am not sure what I was thinking, but I had had a lot of dairy that day. I’m not lactose intolerant, but when I’m stressed I do have a sensitivity to all the usual suspects – dairy, gluten, that stuff. Starting the evening before, I’d managed to consume a milkshake, several huge plates of cheese fries, several huge slices of cheese pizza, all washed down with copious amounts of coffee and the odd sip of vodka. I was a lot younger back in the day, so usually this wouldn’t cause me too much discomfort. However, one’s luck must always run out. That day was the day.

As I said, I felt fine. Right up until the moment I no longer felt fine, everything was going great. I’m walking up a hallway (thankfully a lesser trafficked one) and feeling great, and then… I sense it. A disturbance in the gentle fauna of my gut. Now, I’m no stranger to shitfests. Stress is a bitch on the gut. I’ve spent a fair few shifts gripping the bottom of the toilet bowl like it might be able to save me from my fate. There truly is no god in the bathroom. Anyway, I’m walking along, and I feel that little rumble. That little… movement.

Immediately I go into survival mode. I know I have roughly thirty seconds before this is all over. I take five of these precious seconds to home in on my location and bring up my mental map of site bathrooms, which I have for this specific purpose (years of stress shitting will make you a physical Google Maps of bathrooms). I realise there’s a bathroom not too far away, but sometimes it’s locked. There’s another bathroom close by, but it’s roughly forty seconds away including a short elevator ride. Do I risk going to the first bathroom and finding it locked, or do I risk going to the second and getting stuck in an elevator (a great fear of mine) and then shitting myself, thereby gassing myself in the stench?

A fart slips out. It was only a fart, but I know it was a close one. It’s also so hot it singes my ass hairs, and stinks so bad I can almost see the cartoon stink lines. I know I’m in trouble. I go for the first bathroom. There’s a storage closet nearby – if the worst happens, I can probably just shit in a mop bucket or an empty box or something. Off I go. The first half of the journey is uncomfortable but bearable. There’s a lot of movement going on in my gut that gets gradually worse. By the time I reach the hall the bathroom is on, I’m starting to think I have an idea of what it’s like to be pregnant. I remember when my son’s mother was pregnant with him and I would feel him kicking around in the womb, and she would try to explain how it felt from her perspective, but of course I couldn’t imagine. At that moment, I think I had a good idea. It felt like something was alive in there, rolling around and pressing against my organs. It was a strange feeling, but one with fond associations. That was my last moment of happiness for forty minutes.

I reach the bathroom. Mercy of mercies, it’s unlocked, but I barely register that. I stumble through the door, walking like I’ve already shat myself. I cannot unclench my ass, less the swamp within unleashes itself. I’m ashamed to say it, but I consider just dropping my pants and shitting on the floor and getting out of there. Some of my conscience remains, and I shuffle to the stall. There’s no time to check if there’s toilet roll. There’s no time to do anything. I’m unzipping and unbuttoning as I approach the bowl, and then it hits me – how am I gonna turn and sit on the bowl? As soon as I crouch, it is all over. I waste a precious second considering this conundrum, but then, with a grimace and a deep sense of resignation, I realize I’m completely at the mercy of this shit. I have no choice but to get this over with, and then try and work from there.

I whip my pants and undies out of the way (or at least, I hope I do). As I do so, I turn and begin to sit. Usually I like to get my pants all the way down around my ankles, but there’s no time. I’m shitting before I even hit the seat. I miss the back of the toilet, but not the back of the seat. I have to sit in some of the shit. Alright, that’s gross, but I’ve had a newborn by that point. I’ve had shit on places I don’t want there to be shit. I’m kind of relieved that it’s my own, which is not a great bar to set, but do I look like I’m in a position to be choosy right now? I should mention that this shit is completely puréed liquid. I mean, it feels like I’m sitting in a warm, half-blitzed smoothie. The smell is… I don’t even know. I am a writer, and I am a person who has seen unfathomable things, but even with these two major advantages I cannot describe how it smelled. It smelled hot, for a start. You know what I mean. The stench of this shit singed my god damn nose hairs. It was rancid. It was pungent. It made me consider the duality of man – how could my body have contributed to making something as wonderful as my son, yet still be the vessel to create this monstrosity? I do not mean to keep bringing up my son in a story about the worst shit of my life, but you have to understand that such situations really do make a man consider life and death.

The initial blast tapers off, but I’m still going. By now I’m sat on the seat, and rather than my usual position (hands gripping the underneath of the bowl) I find myself leaning forward and briefly putting my face in my hands. I’m regretting my dietary choices now. I might be verbally cursing myself. I quickly have to sit up properly again because the hunching is crushing my stomach and making the pain worse. I did not know that shitting could be so painful. I mean, I’d experienced such things before, but this is… this is something else. I’m experiencing hot and cold flushes. My heartrate is dangerously elevated. I think about the celebrities that have been found dead on the toilet and wonder if that’s my fate. I consider the fact it might be kinder. Meanwhile, as I contemplate my possible death, the acoustics of my ass’s contribution to the world are deafening. I have never heard sounds like it. I think it might be like if somebody accidentally drilled a hole to hell. They would put their ear to the hole and the sounds from my hole is what they would have heard. The splattering, the guttural growls, several different pitches of farts all at once… I cannot possibly tell you how much I wished to temporarily lose my hearing. I considered trying to blow out my eardrums, but thought that might be too painful and cause me to fall off the bowl and further complicate my situation, so I decided I might as well just suffer.

Suffer I did. This continued for almost twenty minutes. I have no idea how that could have all fit inside my intestines. Four times, I reached behind me and flushed the toilet (I have learned the hard way not to let it pile up). The Poseidon’s kiss from each metric ton of shitwater eroded another piece of my psyche. Finally the smoothie shit tapered off and I was treated to a final hurrah of machine gun fire that pinged rock-hard little pellets right off the back of the porcelain, loud enough that it actually made me jump. Like a dog, I was frightened by my own ass. Then, silence. Sweet, sweet silence.

I’m alive. I’m sweating, I’m actually trembling by this point, I’m breathless, my heart is in the range of BPM that’s probably dangerous, but I’m alive. I sit there for a long moment, the silence in the bathroom deafening after the hell I experienced, and then I realize that there’s still more hell to come – I have to, somehow, clean up. I take a slow breath and regret it (the flushing didn’t eradicate much of the stench). I rise to my feet.

I fall flat on the floor, shit-covered ass in the air. My legs have gone numb. For almost a minute I have to lay there, until I’ve wiggled my traitorous legs and feet around enough to be able to stand. There are pins and needles in my left leg, and every slight change in pressure makes me teeter precariously to the side. I reach for the paper dispenser.

There is no toilet paper.

I don’t know what I expected. I stand there for a long moment, staring at the ajar door (I had no time to lock it), and something within me breaks. Fuck it, I think, and I stride – I do not shit shuffle, I do not waddle, I stride – into the next cubicle. No TP. Nor in the next. This is a small bathroom, so there are only three stalls. I stand there, holding my pants around my thighs in a big bunch like a Depression-era grandpa trying to keep his string-tied pants up his starving frame, and then it hits me. There’s a storage closet next door. Could it possibly contain TP? I edge to the door. I peer out. The hallway is clear. I slip out. The stench has permeated the hallway outside, but at least masks me as I creep to the storage closet and open the door. Thank god, there’s TP. I grab two packets of 24 rolls and jam it under my arms, and then I scuttle back into to bathroom like the disgusting mistake I am. I retreat back into the stall like a worm returning to the soil. I begin the immense task of cleaning up.

Now, I’m not a talented mathematician, but I’m fairly certain that two 24s is 48. Which means I had 48 rolls in there with me. By the time I was done, there were probably 10 or 11 left. My flushing was likely responsible for every drought in California since that date. Miraculously my pants and underwear had escaped splashage, but the poor toilet had seen better days, as had the trail of drips scattered throughout the bathroom and hall from my adventure. Even when I was done, there was still a disturbance in the atmosphere of the bathroom that would tell anyone who passed by what had happened in there (even though the stench probably had something to do with that). I had to utilize all three toilets to flush everything. Finally, exhausted, I stumbled to the basin and scrubbed my hands and arms all the way up to the elbow, like a surgeon prepping for an operation. I did this three times before I felt even remotely clean, and knew that I would have to return home for a long, hot shower before I thought about doing any more work.

There were of course no paper towels, and the hand drier was broken. I dry off my hands and arms as best as I can on my pants… and that’s when I notice that my walkie talkie, tuned to the general channel and clipped to my pants, had been on the entire fucking time.

#anon #asks

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meridia002-lorddiavolosconcubine · 4 years

Text

Dizzump in the Devildom

WARNING: FECES/DEFECATION, NSFW (NO SEX, BUT UTTERLY DISGUSTING), MERIDIA HAS AN ACCIDENT

Let this be the first entry in the Devildom Diary.

My first day in the Devildom was a total ASS DISASTER. Literally. Imagine finding yourself in an unfamiliar world that lacked amenities as basic as toilets. I was horrified and embarrassed when it came time to take my first dizzump in the Devildom. On that first evening I grabbed my demon boyfriend, Mammon, and pinned him against a dark corner to ask him where the toilet was.

“A toy what?” Mammon asked as he characteristically threw up his hands in confusion.

I dumbfoundedly watched him shake his head at me as waves of impeccable white hair grazed his forehead. Why humiliate myself by explaining the concept of human defecation to this shiny, smooth entity? I waved off my question as an exhaustion-induced brain fart and decided that it was best for me to search for a place to poop that night.

Why doesn't Hell have toilets? I searched the Internet for “demon boy anatomy,” and what I discovered didn’t comfort me. According to AkuWikia, demons lack functional buttholes. Their pink starfishes are only for anal sex and were never an original part of their evolution. The wiki article said the first king of the Devildom spent centuries watching humans procreate and fuck. He saw anal sex as unique and wanted demons to be able to do it. From that day onward, the demon king cast a spell on all his subjects that drilled perfect puckered holes in their anuses. The article made no mention of human defecation.

So there I was, my struggles to contain the doo doo within my donut hole failing me. Touching cloth is what humans call it when you’re desperately trying to keep the turtle’s head in its shell. Prairie dogging. You get it. I bemoaned my choice to wear tight-ass pants. I clenched my cheeks, my hands pushing them together to stall Mr. Hanky for as long as I could. I waddled sideways in the hallway like I had something up my ass. After all, I did.. it was threatening to break free. Why did I have to eat that burrito baby last night? Shit!

Stiffly shuffling against the wall, I opened the bathroom door. No toilets, but a pretty big bathtub. big enough to squat and drop deuce in the drain.

No! Shaking that thought from my mind, I continued searching every closet and room I had access to. Buckets? No. Where would I dump it? Asmo’s underwear drawer? Maybe. Ugh. Behind the bookshelves in the living room? Possibly. Let’s keep that as the number two choice.

I paused mid step in the hallway as my rectum clenched up in painful spasms. You know when the the shit starts coming down the pipe a bit more and holding it in causes painful cramps? That’s a sign you needed to find a toilet yesterday.

Time was running out as I was growing a monkey tail in my underwear. I needed to paint the Oval Office soon. Do I go in the bathtub and try to wash it down the drain? It seemed like the most private option. At this point, I could go outside for all the little D’s to see. What if Caveman Solo spied me dropping anchor in the grass like a dog? He’d probably like that.

I shivered at the thought of that shady fuckboi watching me shooting torpedoes on the side of the House of Lamentation. Why? Why didn’t they prepare this one little detail? Would it hurt these perfect, poopless men to install toilets for the one disgusting poop human?

My ass cheeks squeezed to the maximum when the final cramp hit me with a rumbling so loud it could’ve been Beelzebeef’s stomach. My cheeks gave out, and I went right in the seat of my pants. Staying in the bathroom, I locked the golden doorknob behind me. I dropped my pants, sticky brown separating from the cotton of my dollar store underwear. I glared at the brown curl in the seat of my panties with disgust. "I hate you," I whispered with all my vitriol.

I threw my clothing into a sagging, sad pile in the corner. I stood buck naked with my legs obscenely wide over the drain, squatting as much as my shortened Achilles’ tendons allowed. I inhaled and exhaled slowly to relax my sphincter. Warm ropes slid through my rectum like a monorail. I waited until I heard the soft plop in the drain. Sighing, I was about to stand up when another bout of the shits hit me, and this time it wasn’t as neat as the turd I just birthed. Before I could gather myself and clean my mess, a second violent episode of the shits gripped me. At this point, I was already half standing and no longer perfectly aiming over the drain. A typhoon of liquid ass viciously blasted the white tiles.

I panicked, and the more anxious I got, the worse the diarrhea became. I decided to accept the situation and let it all out.

“It will all be over with soon,” I said out loud. “And then I can clean it.”

With that being said, I pushed like a mother in labor. Pressure built inside my belly and travelled down to my colon until it exited my body in mere seconds. I became lost in the moment. I don’t know how much time passed, but it felt like the best time of life. Being so far gone in my poophoria, a moan escaped my mouth. Oh, the relief I felt in my guts! For hours I had held it inside me until the feces seemed to be sentient. It came out on its own.

My sweet moment was disrupted by a knocking at the door.

“Oi! Meridia!” Knock! Knock! “What’s going on in there? The smell is awful, and I gotta take a piss!”

Oh, fuck! Mammon’s timing couldn’t have been worse! Fuckfuckfuckfuck. I had to squeeze my cheeks together to restrain in the rest of the shitstorm while I looked around for paper towels. What was I supposed to say?

“Uh ... J-just a minute! Just taking an extra long bath!” My voice faltered.

“I gotta pee, so I’m comin’ in,” he answered. “It shouldn’t interrupt your bath!”

Goddammit!

Before I could stop him, Mammon turned the doorknob. The gold knob turned slowly, the door opened the slowest I’ve ever seen a door open. It creaked and squeaked ever so loudly, and I feared it would attract more attention. My stomach dropped again resulting in a tiny spurt of brown goo. White hair and brown skin poked through the door. First his head came through the crack like a little prairie dog. Then the crack opened wider as a RAD uniform appeared. The hands that were on the demon’s hips flew up to his nose as he gagged.

“Ack! What is that sme—” My boyfriend stopped talking as he stared at the Pollock-esque brown masterpiece I made all over the tiles.

“Meridia! What’s that comin’ outta your ass?!” He screamed.

My legs quaked with each spasm of shit I held back. It was useless. My cheeks jiggled with one final effort as a downpour of liquid brown splattered the tiles below me. Mammon was panicking, and I needed to explain this before he called his brothers for an emergency.

“Please calm down!” I begged. “I’m pooping!” My arms waved around agitatedly as I attempted to explain defecation to his confused face. “It’s a human thing. Please, just help me clean this fucking mess!”

Mammon seemed even more confused and distressed. His arms flailed all over the place in confusion.

“What does this even mean?” His voice cracked out. “Does your shit need to ... go back inside ya ass?!”

What? Oh, god no. I hope he doesn’t try that!

“No! Just, please don’t call attention to this!” I hissed. “I need you to bring me towels so I can clean this mess up.”

I hoped I could get through to him, because he gazed with a half-mile stare at my brown splattered masterpiece on the walls.

“Mammon!” I snapped him out of his shock. “Get. Me. Towels!”

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, thing.”

Poor little guy. He sounded ill. It wasn’t long before the white-haired tsundere came back with a bunch of white towels. I palmed my face.

“White towels? Human excrement will stain those so much!” I said.

He shrugged. “I guess we’re gonna have brown towels at the end of the night.”

Taking one from the stack to wrap around my body, I was able to set about frantically mopping my midnight regret off the walls and floor. Maybe the most difficult part was scooping my mess out of the bathtub drain. I turned to Mammon and was immediately floored by the sight of the demon with his jacket off, sleeves rolled up, and shirt unbuttoned. Suddenly, for the first time in my life, I think I was freakishly turned on by the smell of shit. His body odor combined with the scent of fecal lasagna twisted something primal inside of my core. I looked down at my hand, remember that I was squeezing an ice cream scoop sized clump of doodoo in my hand. I shook my head to snap out of my arousal before my thoughts went somewhere taboo.

I hurled the crap clog inside a garbage bag, which reminded me of the lack of a toilet.

“So, we need to talk to Lucifer rather discreetly about installing a toilet in the house,” I reminded Mammon. “On second thought, let’s just see if Diavolo can put toilets everywhere.”

Mammon shook his head. “Why didn’t ya just say something earlier, human?” he said. “When you asked me about the toilet earlier, ya coulda just explained it to me. I think I heard something about Diavolo having putting those in RAD just for the human students.”

I froze. “You ... What?!”

He gulped. “Uhh, yeah. How’d ya think Solomon shits?”

My body began to shake in anger. “I hadn’t thought about it.”

He stopped when my emotions started to show. “Hey, now. I’m sorry. It just slipped our minds.”

My jaw tensed as vengeful ideas played through my shit-addled brain. Leaning over the tub, I eyed the drain deviously as a new set of spasms wrapped my bowels in their grasp.

“Mammon,” I eyed him sideways. “We’ve cleaned enough in here, and I need to bathe.”

He stopped scrubbing to wipe sweat off his sexy forehead. “If ya say so. Call me if ya need me human.”

Before he left, we made out like teenagers, my soiled hand leaving smudges in his clean, white hair.

When I was finally alone, I dropped my fluffy white, brown smudged towel on the clean tiles. Stepping inside the shower, I marveled at the freshly cleaned tub. Sad I would have to soil it again.

Once more positioning my legs vulgarly wide over the drain, I unleashed everything. No holding back.

#obeyme #mc has an accident #tw feces #obey me mammon #bathroom #cursed fic

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autodidact-adventures · 5 years

Text

Siberian History (Part 6): The Time of Troubles

By the late 1500s, Russia was one of the largest nations on earth. Its many principalities had been united by stealth & force under the reign of Moscow, and now that the Khanates of Kazan & Astrakhan on the Volga River had been subjugated, Russia was now a multinational state.

From Ivan the Terrible onwards, the tsar claimed to rule by “divine right”. This was already common in Europe, but the Russian tsar's power was autocratic and absolute. One contemporary wrote about Ivan, “like Nebuchadnezzar, he slew, had beaten, elevated, or humbled whomsoever he wished.”

The state bureaucracy was growing, and near the top was the Boyar Dumar, the royal council made up mostly of men of noble birth. There was also an inner cabinet of councillors, whom the tsar could consult. But it was said of Ivan that he often did so “in the manner of Xerxes, the Persian Emperor, who assembled the Asian princes not so much to secure their advice...as to personally declare his will.”

Russia had a population of about 13 million people, mostly impoverished peasants who worked on large estates, or worked their garden-like plots in tiny hamlets across the land.

The old aristocracy had been humbled somewhat, and the service gentry had arisen to take its place. The difference between the two was that the old aristocracy inherited their titles & land by inheritance, whereas the service gentry were awarded estates for service to the tsar. However, the service gentry would eventually acquire many of the prerogatives of the aristocracy, including titles and inheritable estates.

Russia had no true middle class, independent merchant guilds, or any mercantile economy of the sort that was beginning to grow in many European countries. The gosts (“great merchants”) were appointed by the Crown. All offices & positions were in the employ of the state, i.e. “state service”.

Travel within Russia was restricted, and travel abroad was almost unknown, “that Russians might not learn of the free institutions that exist in foreign lands.” Police surveillance was widespread, and people had the “duty to denounce” – no matter what rank or standing people had, they had to politically inform on each other, and report whatever they knew or heard about disloyal acts or thoughts.

Punishments were harsh, and torture was common. People could be torn to pieces with iron hooks, beheaded or impaled, branded with red-hot irons, have their limbs cut off, or beaten with the knout. The “knout” was a short whip with a tapered end, and attacked to this tapered end were three tongs of hard tanned elk hide, which cut like knives.

The roads were poor, and there were no inns between towns for travellers. Alcoholism was a major problem throughout the nation. There was little intellectual curiosity – even a simple knowledge of astronomy, such as the ability to predict eclipses, could lead to a charge of witchcraft.

One foreign diplomat said that the habit of oppression had “set a print into the very mindes of the people. For as themselves are verie hardlie and cruellie dealte withall by their chiefe magistrates and other superiours, so are they as cruell one against an other, specially over their inferiours and such as are under them. So that the basest and wretchedest [peasant] that stoupeth and croucheth like a dog to the gentleman, and licketh up the dust that lieth at his feete, is an intollerable tyrant where he hath the advantage.”

Foreigners saw the Russians as a semi-barbaric, insular people and state, arrogantly self-assured as the true bearer of Christianity, but rife with ignorance, supersitition and immorality. One visitor to Muscovy made up a rhyme about it:

Churches, ikons, crosses, bells, / Painted whores and garlic smells, / Vice and vodka everyplace – / This is Moscow's daily face.

To loiter in the market air, / To bathe in common, bodies bare, / To sleep by day and gorge by night, / To belch and fart is their delight.

Thieving, murdering, fornication / Are so common in this nation, / No one thinks a brow to raise – / Such are Moscow's sordid days.

But it was not as bad as foreigners claimed. The common people were genuinely religious, and a renaissance was taking place – through trade and other contracts, Western cultural influences were beginning to have an effect. These influences, combined with Russia's rich Byzantine heritage, might have brought about a true renaissance, but these currents would be overwhelmed by the bloody legacies of the immediate past.

Ivan the Terrible's tyrrany had divided the nation in two; and the social enmities he had created would outlive him. In 1581, he killed his eldest son, Tsarevich Ivan Ivanovich, during an argument. When he died himself in 1584, his son Fyodor succeeded him.

Fyodor I was absent-minded and reluctant to be monarch, and he relied heavily on the boyars appointed to be his guardians. Plots sprung up, a power struggle ensued, and Boris Godunov became the dominant figure behind the throne. Boris was a noble of Tatar origin, and his sister was married to Fyodor. Soon, he was recognized as Lord Protector (as the English called him), and the de facto head of state.

Under Godunov's reign, trade prospered, revenue increased, taxes decreased, and peace returned. Fugitive peasants returned to their homesteads, more arable land was cultivated, grain prices fell, and granaries recorded large surpluses. Construction increased, with stone walls around Moscow and Smolensk; many new churches, expanded port facilities at Arkhangel, and the completion of the Ivan the Great Belltower in the Kremlin, reaching upwards in three tapering octagonal tiers.

There was military progress as well. Godunov made headway against the nomadic peoples in the southern steppes (between Russia and the Crimea), established a series of important fortified towns, recoered territory lost to Sweden during the Livonian War, and pushed Siberian conquest eastwards from the Ob River.

When Fyodor died in 1598 without an heir, Godunov was offered the crown. He denied it three times, to demonstrate the inevitability of his succession, and looked to the masses for his support. At his coronation (in the Dormition Cathedral on September 1st, 1598) , he declared: “As God is my witness, there will not be a poor man in my stardom!” and tore the jewelled collar froms his gown. Jealous nobles called him Rabotsar, which means “the Tsar of slaves”.

There are no known contemporary portraits of Godunov, but this is what he probably looked like.

After Godunov's coronation, favours were announced, army & administration officials received a substantial salary increase, merchants were granted tax breaks, and the natives of Western Siberia were exempted from taxes for a year. Godunov said: “We take a moderate tribute, as much as each can pay...And from the poor people, who cannot pay the tribute, no tribute is to be taken, so that none of the Siberian people should be in need.”

But this could not solve all the problems. The biggest problem was the competition among landed proprietors for peasants to work their estates. The more prosperous of them tempted peasants away from their smaller holdings. Many of these small holdings were held on military tenure, so their decline affected the security of the nation.

The government tried to solve this problem by binding the peasants to the soil. Peasants' freedom of movement had already been severely curtailed over the years, but now new decrees pushed them towards serfdom.

The service gentry squeezed everything they could from their peasants, who were already near breaking point because of state taxation. As a consequence, violence spread. In Russia's heartland, bands of highwaymen (who were once peasants) ransacked monasteries & manorial estates. Along the southern frontier, legions of the disaffected accumulated. Things were moving towards rebellion.

From 1601 – 03, protracted crops failures led to famine and mass starvation. Godunov distributed money and grain from the public treasury to those who were destitute, but widespread hoarding & profiteering by landlords & merchants (including the Stroganov family) not only negated his actions but made it worse.

Whole villages were wiped out. People ate cats, dogs and rats, as well as bark and straw. Human flesh was sold in public markets. An eyewitness wrote that every day in Moscow, “people perished in their thousands like flies on winter days. Men carted the dead away and dumped them into ditches, as was done with mud and refuse, but in the morning, “bodies half devoured, and other things so horrible that the hair stood up on end” could be seen. A court apothecary rescued a little girl from starvation, and entrusted her to a peasant family; he later learned that they had eaten her.

Thousands of unemployed labourers, and peasants abandoned to their fate by uncaring masters, scavenged throughout the countryside, or fled into the wilderness. This was the Time of Troubles, which lasted from 1598 to 1613.

It was beyond Godunov's control, and his standing fell. He was a legitimate tsar, properly elected; but he couldn't claim any dynastic link with Russia's “sacred” past. People soon began to see him as a ruthless usurper who had taken the throne through violence, crime and deceit. Rumours spread that he'd murdered Tsarevich Dmitry Ivanovich (Ivan the Terrible's 9-year-old son by his seventh wife); that he'd poisoned his own sister; that he'd poisoned Fyodor I himself. Godunov's spy network uncovered many plots, but discontent was still growing stronger.

There was an uprising in 1603 by peasants, fugitive slaves and bandits, which the army put a stop to. The people began to long for the protection of a “born tsar”, romanticizing even the worst parts of their past.

Then a rumour sprang up that Tsarevich Dmitry had miraculously survived his assassination, and was about to retake the throne. The pretender (known later as False Dmitry I) was backed by the Poles, and in October 1604 he crossed into Muscovy, leading an army of mercenaries and volunteers. This False Dmitry was conventionally ugly, “a strange and ungainly figure with facial warts and arms of unequal length”. He was a charismatic leader, and many people joined his cause. His army was over 16,000 men by November. Godunov, feeling helpless, turned to sorcery & divination to try and alter his fate.

False Dmitry I.

Godunov died on April 13th, 1605, from poison or a stroke. His wife and son were murdered within the next few weeks, and the Kremlin was stormed. False Dmitry I ruled for nearly a year, from June 10th, 1605, to May 17th, 1606.

Then he was toppled by Vasily Shuisky, who became Tsar Vasily IV. Shuisky had the right pedigree, but not popular support.

New uprisings and foreign invasions followed this. In June 1607, False Dmitry II, again backed by the Poles, advanced on Moscow. This led to Vasily IV's deposition in July 1610, and the installation of a Polish tsar, Vladislav I (he would later become King of Poland, in 1632).

Vasily IV (17th-century painting).

It seemed as if Muscovy would be partitioned. Russian popular armies rose up in the north and east, and advanced with patriotic fervour. On October 25th, 1612, the Polish garrison in the Kremlin capitulated, and the foreigners were driven out.

On February 21st, 1613, a national assembly elected a new tsar. This was Mikhail Fyodorovich Romanov (Mikhail I), the grand-nephew of Anastasia Romanova, Ivan the Terrible's first wife. The Time of Troubles then came to an end.

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taggedmemes · 5 years

Text

SENTENCE MEME ⟶ JON RICHARDSON: ULTIMATE WORRIER / 2.01 always feel free to tweak the sentence to fit your muse.

“This is home to all the worries.”

“We’ll be fretting about psychopaths, photographs, and misspent youth.”

“I’ll be confronting my biggest worry with some aversion therapy.”

“It’s a bit like an S&M dungeon.”

“Anything in particular worrying you at the moment?”

“My trousers are quite tight.”

“It’s worse for you, because we’re married.”

“I worry that I had a weird childhood.”

“Sometimes you find that out the hard way, like right now.”

“When you’re using it as an icebreaker at dinner parties it’s a bit much.”

“I don’t know how I feel about that.”

“I think that might be horrible.”

“I can’t bear the feel of these things.”

“No, that’s really horrifying.”

“I feel like I’m on a dogging documentary.”

“I worry that I’ve fallen in with a bad crowd.”

“He sounds like a real piece of work.”

“He’s a shit.”

“Instead of flowers, we used slices of vacuum-packed cheese.”

“I just think he’s a bully.”

“Do you think you’re easily led?”

“I think I’m the bad crowd.”

“I know I’m an a-hole.”

“When we see you, we can tell that you smell.”

“I’m often in situations that I don’t want to be in.”

“It was meant to be a joke but it backfired.”

“Everyone will see the torture you subjected me to.”

“When we go out, you look really nice, and I look like this.”

“You’re quite a lot fitter than him.”

“You’re supposed to stick up for me, not agree!”

“I think this one is of you crying at the end of a darts tournament.”

“I’m shock ya and say no.”

“I don’t look good in photos, and I’m the same way in mirrors.”

“In the flesh, I’m dynamite.”

“I don’t really know what to expect from today.”

“Stop doing that hamster face.”

“Move on to the next stage, unbutton your shirt.”

“I found that quite excruciating.”

“The only thing I was uncomfortable with was what I was wearing, the forced intimacy, and being watched and photographed by a stranger. Apart from that, it was lovely.”

“I just want a picture of us looking smart.”

“If I put on camera my sex look, it might ruin my career.”

“He looks like he’s shit himself, but he’s angry.”

“I just can’t do the face he wanted me to do.”

“You look like you trusted a fart and it’s backfired.”

“I’ve never done this. It might not wor– Oh, it’s works.”

“His nipples look very hot from here.”

“Stop trying to get away from me!”

“I think I’ve given more than anyone could ever ask for.”

“I’ve done enough favors for the next forty, or sixty years.”

“I’ve learned a lot about myself. Like when a man tells me to take my shirt off, I just do it.”

“There are a number of questions I have.”

“It’ll be a conversation starter, if we put it in our hallway.”

“I don’t like it, I hate it.”

“I’m going to break that painting into 306 pieces.”

“I worry Netflix is turning me into psychopath.”

“Our entertainment by watching the most terrible things that ever happened to people on the planet is pretty crude.”

“I could dispose of a body and know what to plant on top of it.”

“I know it’s bad, but I’m fascinated by it.”

“He had a kettle full of dicks.”

“Your hugs are like when you’re deflating the air out of a lilo.”

“This is genuinely my favorite video on the internet.”

“Could I honestly be a psychopath?”

“That was a lovely slam and I enjoyed it.”

“If you are worried about being a psychopath, you are clearly not a psychopath.”

“You’ve met your match today with these absolute nutjobs.”

“I’ll be made to suffer for the sake of entertainment.”

“I’m worry I’m due a mid-life crisis.”

“There’s lots of things to worry about when you get old.”

“That’s a very kind way of saying ‘you were an ugly youth’.”

“Just buy a pub, because then you get to live in a pub.”

“This is all very bleak.”

“I’m a big fan of vermouth, and generally if you’re buying vermouth you’re in your seventies.”

“He wants to legally change his age.”

“I never want anyone to look at me and feel sorry for me.”

“I want me to look at me and go, ‘Wow, what’s she going to do next?’ and the answer will always be to get a tit out.”

“We were gonna bake you a hash cake without telling you.”

“I used to give you breast milk without you knowing.”

“Does this mean I’m not vegan?”

“My mid-life crisis will involve hot pants, rollerblades, and piercings.”

“This is my version of a mid-life crisis.”

“See anything you like?”

“You’re doing it again? You prick.”

“From this angle, it looks like you’ve wet yourself.”

“I’ll tell you what. I feel so alive.”

“If this is a mid-life crisis, then bring it on.”

#rp meme #roleplay meme #sentence meme #sentence starters #starter sentences #KIND / SENTENCE.#BASED ON / TV SHOW.#KIND / IN CHARACTER.

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szopenhauer · 4 years

Text

What’s the last NON-SURVEY RELATED thing you typed? I’ve been texting my gf and my dad

Are you currently in a complicated situation with someone? I am

When was the last time you were really grossed out? today?

What was the last thing to make you laugh? this song

Was the last hoodie you wore too big for you? that’s how I like them

Is your pet currently being annoying? my dog is very rarely annoying if at all, usually it’s not his fault anyway

Do you know someone who has 5 or more siblings? my grandma had many siblings but it was normal for her times

Do you prefer movies at home or movies at the theatre? home

When’s the last time you had a rock, paper, scissors match? long time ago

What would your name be if you were a boy? hopefully Nataniel (or Sam if it was english name)

The forever on-going question: Is Twilight stupid or actually brilliant? dumb af

Finish the sentence: Remember, remember… I’m bad at dates but I know what it’s from

Did you understand Shakespeare? I didn’t enjoy Shakespeare, I think he’s not that clever - instead of rhyming he was creating his own words, cool thing to invent your own words but why rhyming then if you really can’t without that?

Can you differentiate between the words “your” and “you’re?" I can

Do you use hair ties as bracelets? at times

When did you learn the ninja turtles were named after Renaissance artists? it was obvious

Would you tell your co-workers what underwear you have on? why would they want to know?

How far do you live from your parents? I live with them

Are you happy with how much money you make? I don’t make my own money

Do you believe in staying “healthy”? I tried and ended up worse than those who didn’t :(

Do you answer your phone on the first ring? never

Do you sleep with the curtains or blinds on your window open? hell no

Would you stay at a haunted hotel? don’t wanna bother ghosts nor tempt my fate

Have you ever gotten pizza delivered to your house that you didn’t order? that happened to my dad at work once

What’s the most disgusting thing you’ve ever encountered while at a hotel? nothing luckily

(Insert random song lyric of your choice here): But our love, was a song, sung by a dying swan

Can one person really make a difference? one stinky man in a bus makes everyone sick so think about it

Ring the bell for service or wait patiently for a minute first? wait

Do you honestly know how to play Monopoly or just make up rules as you go? we make up rules as we go playing Scrabble to make my mom happy lmfao

Be honest… ever peed in the pool? once

Have you ever fallen off of a treadmill while walking/running? was I ever on a treadmill?...

Do you drink milk/juice right from the bottle/carton, or pour yourself a glass? pour!

Do you hide when Jehovah’s Witnesses knock on your door? I pretend I’m not home

If you farted in front of your significant other, would he/she care? omg

Must you grab a souvenir from almost everywhere you go? ... yes

Have you ever walked out on a movie at the theater? Which one? nope

Did you enjoy making things out of Play-Doh as a child? I loved the smell

Are you currently sleepy? not really

Was the last movie you watched a horror film? nooo

Do you own a lot of tee shirts? shitload

Do you handle pain well? compared to people I know - very

Have you ever been so nervous you threw up? I would throw up all the time then, glad I don’t do that outta being nervous, phew

Do you have a leather jacket? fake

Do you think hugs are awkward? often

Has anyone ever been weirdly obsessed with you? could say so

If you’re reading a book, what page are you currently on? I'm not

you’re getting ready to go to bed and the last person that you kissed shows up, what do you say? woah in the middle of the night? why?! what happened? :o What does the last text say? no ja wiem

What do you think the last person that you kissed is doing right now? she’s doing survey that I made and sent her Was your last text message from a girl or boy? gal How’s your day been? ugh... What were you doing at eight this morning? slept Are you afraid of shots? no When was the last time that someone of the opposite sex gave you a hug? yesterday Would you rather write in pen or pencil? pen Could you date someone who can’t make you laugh? if they laughed at my jokes Are you wearing your favorite color right now? I don’t Describe how you feel right now in one word? anxious What are you listening to? Fever Ray are you ready for kids right now? I'll never be Were you an adorable baby? pfft

Do you prefer water or land? land Would you consider yourself to be mature? at times only At your workplace, are you required to wear a uniform? used to Is sarcasm like a second language to you? maybe Have you ever witnessed a physical fight in real life? nothing like in an action movie tho What do you think of people who get drunk every weekend? disgusting, stupid, I hate them Do you require a lot of private time? I do Do you use a lot of hair products? shampoo only Does it bother you when people copy your actions? especially when they laughed at me for that first and then been complimented

When was the last time you had a nightmare? tonight

Have you ever made up a secret language? I made up a language to my book that you can truly use

Were you born before 1992? I was born exactly in 92

If you got married now, how old would you be by your 50th wedding anniversary? dead 78

What did you do last New Year’s Eve? spent time with my parents as usual, I like it that way

Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medications for it? I do and I was taking meds that fucked me up even more >.< What was the last thing someone said to you that you kept repeating over & over in your head? I’m still wondering what my gf didn’t want to tell me last evening but not only just that

If you could, would you work from home? I’d love to <3 What were you like in middle school? I had some phases because I finally stopped wanting to fit in Which do you think is harder: realizing you haven’t changed, or realizing you have? if changed for worse then it’s obviously harder Have you ever won some sort of prize or prize package from a contest? What did you win? more than one thing/contest Most disturbing movie you have ever seen? horrors, Gummo, Pentameron?... What one thing has always bothered you, but seems to bother no one else? smells and sounds for example Do you still own VHS tapes? we do

Do you feed your leftovers to your dogs? some

How often do you use Facebook? everyday What is the fanciest restaurant you have been to? those were wedding parties took place? What is the worst damage that your car has seen? I don’t have a car When was the last time you got a new ringtone? recently Have you ever peed yourself from laughing? luckily not

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italianfish · 4 years

Text

Here’s some things that I’ve overheard recently

- That bridge was created by erosion

- Holy tolino that’s a nice tree!

- Ivy! There’s the guy we don’t like (Trump in a car)

- Why wouldn’t you want to be king? You could get corgis, they’re adorable

- That’s not an allergy, that’s a life choice

- Are you that one guy? Are you DongleMc DongleSon?

- Woooo! CHEMEX!

- THE FURIES ARE COMING

- I NEED A BOYFRIEND AND A SWEATSHIRT

- I wonder what animal that is? Oh wait, it’s a log

- Just a cone, no ice cream. I don’t like ice cream

- My chicken BLT came without the chicken!

- I should have kept the headband from the tampons

- You’ve been reduced to a codename

- Hug, Marry, Exile, the Brucified sleepover game

- It’s just the toes

- Parf Tarts

- It’s crispy?!?!

- When I’m like, 60, I’m going to do drugs

- What really is life without watching Bob Ross?

- 13 YEARS!!!

- Stacy’s mom is Parker’s grandma~

- EmBruce it

- It’s not a water break, it’s a hydration break

- That bird is using a crosswalk!

- I don’t know any colleges in Massachusetts!

- What even is frick without frack

- I’m emotionally offended by your haircut

- That’s like a cat fart

- Someone just shat

- I’M NOT A CHILD PREDATOR DEANNA!!!

- I’ll sue that movie, they stole my idea (Just finished watching Hotel Transylvania 3)

- See, Amanda. That’s your noise

- My mom told me that if you sleep with your phone under your pillow you get fat

- If he were gay he’d be adorable

- He’s racist to chairs

- Flarion is my boob

- Don’t throw the ball at the referee, it’ll hurt his feelings

- Fuck yeah, your name’s Keith

- Can you deep throat a firecracker?

- Your earlobe is soft

- I would sell my toes for my old hair

- It’s like eating a period, NO

- What a funny looking animal (Giraffe)

- Giraffes are the most ridiculous animals

- Ew, keep your ebola away from me

- Look at that glass shard, that must be uncomfortable

- Do sloths have ears?

- Lip jellies freak me out

- A: I have three boobs (Sloth in shirt) B: I have uh.... Arthritis

- Instagram knows I’m lonely

- Knock on any Nonna’s door and tell them you’re Jewish and they’ll pity you and throw you a feast

- But this time it’s just the nose

- I want Granny panties

- Why do we only have confidence when our shirts are off?

- Why is an 8 year old twerking on my leg

- She has curves, you have rectangles

- I’m depressed, give me your water

- Dude! I look like a freaking lion!

- My loofa unraveled...

- I’m eating ramen with a singular coffee straw

- These walls better be soundproof (Amanda loudly singing in the background)

- I’m ready for my 4am Taco Bell runs

- Wifi in Spanish is wee-fee

- I didn’t see the body

- We should crochet together

- Yeah! I was a baby model.

- I don’t know if he likes me or if he’s just the gay best friend

- Have you pooped this week? You need to poop

- You’ve got all your limbs and you’re ready to go

- I need affection

- Diego’s eating rocks again~

- Wait. You’re instagramming my dog?

- I love letting people know what I’m up to

- It’s so funny, it’s like the ying and the yang

- You’re in my world now Grandma

- Two nipples? I don’t need nipples

- You are one gassy fellow

- You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up on our side of the bus

- I can never tell if you’re just depressed or listening to music

- I’ve got a photo shoot coming up for a calendar, for hot teachers with 6-packs. I’m October

- 38 on rotten potatoes!

- I’m hungry, I’m delirious

- DON’T PINCH MY CHUB

- I love clapping thighs in the evening

- Dude, I’m so ready to mingle

- Do you have a magician book

- Let’s taste those minerals

- The sauce is forever

- Why is everything so straight

- The right nipples don’t deserve rights

- We used to have a zebra and he was vicious

- Very important, I forgot shoes

- You look like a lumber snack

- A: I’m the only one here who looks like a hobo B: Really? Say that again A: We can be hobos together

- Woah dude! Can we take a picture of you? *Truck next to the bus*

- What were you guys doing? Bathing yourselves in the toilet?

- I want to be those people in Wii sports (The background characters that make the noises)

- Then we can have a dance party in a prison cell!

- Most of the bible sounds like gay fanfics

- It’s Frozen all over again!

- I have my metal bus on the straw

- My mom told my Dad to not be a weenie

- I’m going to build my house doors really short so you can’t come in

- Do you want to be black with me?

- Are you the black man?

- How did chutes and ladders go sexual?

- What if there was a rotisserie chicken hanging from the ceiling

- No one said Californians are smart, they’re just hippies who smoke weed

- Stop losing me in airport bathrooms

- What’s with those muscular kneecaps

- Queers doesn’t shake hands

- I’m drowning! I’m not even in the water

- Is this baptism?

- Breakfast doesn’t deserve grace

- It’s not just airport bathrooms

- Ice Age, watch it, absorb it

- I call first waz

- If you’re saying waz you’re not fancy

- I have so many bodily fluids to get rid of

- Don’t eat the lotion samples

- Why are our shoes not curved

- I’m just a fat guy so everything is delicious

- My name is Gay Fieri

- *Monotone iCarly theme song*

- I love Chipoodle

- The others are just Bat-ships

- You ever tie a banana to a tree?

- Can we have a fashion show?

- I’m gonna waz myself

- That’s the Death Star again

- Why do you have glitter on you?

- I smoke the mara-ja-wanna

- I have a gelato emergency

- This is our entertainment for the day (Watching a (probably) crazy man dance)

- I have a lot of questions about pottery

- Ever since I was a small child I have found myself goo-goo-ga-ga

- There are too many cans

- We need to stop canning beans

- Forks are way better than spoons

- I hate spoons

- Do you not want two hours of smooth jazz

- A man just stole my nut

- That’s a really bad name for a gay bar

- Is your tongue comfortable in your mouth

- I’m a penguin enthusiast

- He kept force feeding me marshmallows

- Why would you judge a girl by her neck?

- Are there shampoo bars?

- Why would you want a shampoo bar?

- Don’t burn down the house

- Halloween is my day

- You want to be hydrated?

- Are you kidding me? Right in front of my salad?

- We can still cartwheel into a fiery ball

- It’s your last day of camp, why are you trying to land a plane

- There’s a scale from dude to bro to sir

- Gotta vacuum the bird

- I’m teaching my rabbit spanish

- Ok, who got the cheese on a bun???

- I feel like a wet lasagna

- You can get a star for Jazz???

- I have 3 bottles of hand sanitizer

- A- We make children cry! B- NO WE DON’T

- A- Can I have chicken on a plate? B- Chicken on a plate? A- Chicken on a plate

- I want to go to band to get sweaty

- Proactive, it helps your face

- The cult meeting is next week from 2-7

- This is so vegany

- I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH THE SONG! NOT THE BEATLES!

- I have shrimp for later

- It burns my eyes, I love it

- It’s not that we hate you, it’s just that sometimes we can’t stand you

- Locked and loaded for a photoshoot first period

- This chalk keeps following me

- Kinda like a Starbucks atmosphere

- How dare she learn how to drive

- You have to sing our anthem with us

- It fits right into the squiggle

- I’m immune to hot sauce (Downs little cup of hot sauce)

- How was fake meatloaf?

- Can you train a fish?

- I haven’t worn pants in a year

- It smells like yogurt

- I have ties for every holiday

- There’s no laws on the moon, so like, you could kill someone???

- Optional means I don’t do it

- I’m gonna cook your dog!!!

- Is that where we almost went to park jail?

- We don’t condone sporting

- I want to turn orange

- Let’s make a buzfeed quiz that tells you what bridge you are

- (In Spanish) Where is the milk?

- If silence is gold, duct tape is silver

- A: So, what are you guys doing? B: Drugs.

- Young successful jewish boy

- A: I’m fun size! *Friend laughter* B: I’m just short...

- A: Where’s my medal??? B: Up your ass

- I’m a leech

- If anyone’s getting salmonella, it’s going to be me

- Does it involve backflips?

- I get to see all the little children getting confused as you disappear into a chair

- I think someone stole my balls by now

- A- A plastic knife can cut another plastic knife B- Why did you cut a plastic knife? A- Dedication!

- A- Oh my god! B- What does this have to do with god? C- *Whispering* Everything

- You’re probably going to die of liver

- I’m a five year old! You can’t have that profanity in here!

- Hey kids get in the van, we’ve got free wifi

- That’s worse than 10 babies hanging from a tree

- Are you from the piggers of creation???

- A- You’re like an old married couple B- (From the distance) He started it!

- I am a Jesus Christ in a person!

- YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW MANY CHROMOSOMES THAT COST ME!!!

- I will implant a chip in your ankle! And you won’t know which one!

- I’M AN AVATAR! AIR! (Nothing happens) AIR! (Still nothing)

- When I was on a plane, we started dropping 200 feet at a time, the funny thing was that half of the plane had just gotten their drinks so half the plane was soaked

- Is Christianity a cult?

- A- Do you have experiences with holes B- (Very Unsure) Yes

- I’m her bitch, not your bitch

- He has the IQ of half a ferret

- A- Did you read the game manual? B- The gay manual??

- I want the pleasure of whipping you

- One time I poured a glass of apple cider vinegar and I drank it

- I changed my name to Johnyay West

- Too much damage done to the duner

- On a scale to 1 to Bill Cosby

- Ariana Grande is a criminal

- A- It’s sticky B- Can I take that out of context? A- No

- YOU ZIP TIED HIM TO A CHAIR?!

- It’s half past a freckle

- I need the crotch

- I don’t have imaginary friends. I don’t have friends.

- It’s like a mini fridge for pillows

- You hurt yourself with a stationary elbow

- My parents met at Burger King

- A- What’s the capital of Ohio B- Arkansas...?

- A- What do you do after school? B- Eat C- Sleep D- Cry

- Ask for cocaine, not Coca-Cola

- HOW HAVE YOU NOT TOLD US YOU MAKE STAINED GLASS?!

- You stole my meme bro

- A- Where you the one who drank chocolate sauce? B- (Seemingly proud) Yes.

- OW! MY CALVES!

- The Kardashians are necessary in our society!!!

- I feel like a homeless prostitute

- Ya wanna share a fork

- Now you have a pile of hot cheese

#random #funny conversations #conversation #i just overheard #overheard #haha #funny #long post

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