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Mind Loving Owl posted:Ah a return of pictures to this thread. Yes, I'm not nearly as good as other artists who have posted, but there's some stuff later on in this story that demands illustrations so I thought I'd just start off with it. 
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Oct 28, 2012 04:38
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Don't sell yourself short, it'd be great to be able to draw like that.
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Oct 28, 2012 04:55
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RoboSpy posted:Well, as it happens, I've seen this delusion. I had a friend in middle school who, at some point during sixth grade, started talking about a new computer game he had seen and gotten to play a bunch of somewhere - I think supposedly at a game convention or something? Anyway, it was called Mega Soldier or Mega Police or something like that. Sound like some crazy mix of: Planetside (Released in 2003) Doom 3 (released in 2004) GTA 2 or maybe 3 (1999 and 2001) Duke Nukem 3? (Was out in 1997 though)
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Oct 28, 2012 08:44
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Avshalom posted:words and pics Never stop. After a month's reading I've finally caught up with this thread; thanks to all of the contributors for your crazy tales. Content (although it's less "I know Sephiroth's secret astral wife!" and more "general oddness"): I once worked in a bookstore with a man named Alan (real name, because A) it's common enough that he can't be detective'd from it, and B) gently caress him, I hate that guy). Alan was a short man in his late 20s/early 30s, so perfectly fat and ginger that my nickname for him was 'The Basketball.' Alan was one of those people who just couldn't let silence exist, so he always had to fill the air with some natter--not a crime, but generally pretty annoying. He either had trouble reading people or just genuinely didn't care that people--coworkers and customers--often gave him signals that they would like him to stop talking. I suspect it was a mix of both. When I was trapped near him and unable to get away, one of Alan's topics of "conversation" (read: monologues while I grunted in non-committal tones) with me was his constant money woes. I actually sympathized with him a bit, as we were working minimum wage jobs for a retail company that gave out poo poo raises. I understood the pain of paycheck-to-paycheck life... until it was revealed to me by a co-worker that every payday, upon waking, Alan's first task was to head out to one of our local Indian casinos and blow his paycheck trying to get that big jackpot. While a group of us were having our lunch break, Alan told us about how the Victorians were a better society than present American society, because "grown men were allowed to date teenagers." Which, I don't believe is true, exactly? But we were all too grossed out by the idea of men dating teens--specifically, this man dating teens--to debate the topic. This is just an intro. I have a few more stories about Alan that I'll share--just didn't want this post to be a wall of text.
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Oct 28, 2012 18:40
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Avshalom posted:"Lubricous Broomstick" First time I've genuinely laughed out loud at something online in a while.
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Oct 29, 2012 11:16
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Avshalom posted:When I was a child, I read the Earthsea chronicles and decided that if I tried really, really hard, I, too, could talk to nature and make it do my bidding. So I adopted a pair of pebbles one day and kept them in a little pouch. I told my parents that they were a husband and wife and that I was working on communicating with them so that I could master the art of magic. (My parents just accepted this as normal, which should tell you a lot about my childhood.) I'd occasionally take them out of the pouch and try to talk to them, but I'd end up just telling them knock-knock jokes and complaining about my teachers. I'd also sit them next to my dog so that he could talk to them too and we could get some awesome three-way human-animal-mineral magical correspondence going on. They had names, but I've tragically forgotten them. This is so harmlessly weird that it's mostly just  to me. The pebbles were just literal imaginary friends, you didn't think you were boning either of them, and they were in fact in a happily monogamous relationship. I am pro-friend pebble.(setting aside the meat of the story which yes please tell us more about the girl whose ideal first thing to look at in the morning was bleeding anuses)
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Oct 29, 2012 18:32
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As said above, my stories aren't about otherkin soulbonders; just an odd guy I worked with who did strange  things. If nothing else, I'll post just to keep momentum in this thread going until the real craziness comes back to us.In Which Alan Gets A Drink One cold and rainy day I arrived early to work and decided to kill time with some magazines. Our magazine section was near the door and was not patrolled often by staff so it was common to find people leaving their trash behind, stuffed into the shelves or chairs. As I was picking out some magazines to read I found a large McDonald's cup on a shelf, clearly half-full of cola. Wasn't my problem until I clocked in, so I left it there--I'd clear it out when I came back to put my mags away. Before I get to the break room to read, I'm drawn into a conversation at our info desk. While generally BS-ing with the staff there, I see Alan come into the doors, hands jammed into his pockets. He beelines to the magazines. Five minutes later I see him come out of the magazine section with several periodicals and a half-full McDonald's cup. He's sucking on the straw.  When I get up to the break area to clock in, he's still drinking from it.
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Oct 30, 2012 00:14
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Ewwww. Maybe it was his and he left it there for safe keeping?
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Oct 30, 2012 00:16
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sweeperbravo posted:Ewwww. Maybe it was his and he left it there for safe keeping? A fair point. I wish it were so. However, Alan bussed in to work and only ever ate at the fast food restaurants that were within two blocks of our store; the closest McDonald's was about half a mile. Also, when I had noticed the cup I had picked it up. It seemed like the liquid was lukewarm and had been there for a while.
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Oct 30, 2012 00:30
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A friend of mine wound up divorcing his wife because she was spiraling deeper and deeper into an obsession with various fandoms and was carrying on virtual affairs with members of her WoW guild and such, and had no interest in coming back from the edge of this to try and work on their marriage. She almost immediately remarried, to a guy she'd been talking to online for over a year. The new couple spends the majority of their time logged into WoW together. That backstory complete, here's a fun fact my friend just posted: quote:My ex-wife just gave birth this morning. She named the baby Severus. That kid is going to have an awesome childhood.
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Nov 3, 2012 19:49
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RazorBunny posted:A friend of mine wound up divorcing his wife because she was spiraling deeper and deeper into an obsession with various fandoms and was carrying on virtual affairs with members of her WoW guild and such, and had no interest in coming back from the edge of this to try and work on their marriage. She almost immediately remarried, to a guy she'd been talking to online for over a year. The new couple spends the majority of their time logged into WoW together. I think there are laws that require you to report child abuse to the police edit: VVV Not actually serious. Guesticles fucked around with this message at 03:37 on Nov 4, 2012 |
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Nov 4, 2012 03:23
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P.S. STILL COMPLETELY DEVOID OF MERIT
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Seriously report it. If it comes to nothing at least you tried.
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Nov 4, 2012 03:36
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So there was a big news story here in Australia last year about a guy who held an 18-year-old woman hostage in her own home with a fake bomb strapped to her neck. His psychiatric evaluation has just been released. Money quote from the article:quote:This psychosis was particularly apparent when discussing a book Mr Peters had spent over a decade obsessively writing, the court heard. Most people who get way too into fiction are probably harmless except to themselves, but if someone close to you is losing touch with reality or talking about harming others, it's worth taking any threatening language they use seriously.
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Nov 4, 2012 06:50
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It's really too bad this thread dies off so often, so here's another installment of the Josh saga... My Brother Thinks We Own too Much Stuff (Solution: Throw it in the Trash on the Sly) This happened sometime in the summer following my freshman year of high school, after I had gotten my very first paying job as the assistant clerk in an in-home office. Admittedly, not my ideal career, but it was helping out my father's coworker/superior and most importantly, ridiculously close to my own house. My daily morning commute was five minutes of walking through a park and down a street. Now it's imperative to note that for a while, things around the house had gone...amiss. A wayward pair of tennis shoes, a lost bag, little things of small importance that couldn't be spared an extra minute of thought before something else came up. One thing that was sorely missed, however (at least by me), was a black Dragonball Z shirt with King Kai's crest on it.  Though the symbol was smaller than the one pictured here, it was my absolute favorite. It had been a gift from my dad after I had begged him to get it after an official offer had popped up on one of my Angelfire-hosted fansites, and I couldn't find it for the life of me. After a while, I gave it up as a lost cause, though some small part of me mourned the loss. One day, coming back home through the park, something cropping up out of a trashcan caught my eye. Upon investigation, it was a maroon canvas bag. A familiar one... One that had 'BYU Utah' silkscreened on the front... Holy. loving. poo poo. Someone else went to BYU Utah here?! No. Wait. There's something else under this. This looks like Mom's pillow. And next to that, a Tom Clancy novel. Dad has one of those, they're his favorite. ......... I remember very little of what followed after that, only that I ran the rest of the way home, that I was on the verge of tears, and that my mother to this day describes my face as I came bursting through the front door as "thunderous". Josh had been throwing our possessions away for the better part of two months, little by little. Always to the same trashcan in the back of the park, and only ours; nothing that he owned went into the bin. The reasoning behind this was similar to the "Social Anarchist" stage of his childhood: Being the owners of so many luxurious items made us ignorant of the situation of those less fortunate than us (for the record, my mother has been donating to various charities ever since she got a job after marriage and encouraged her children to do the same whenever possible), and that the bigwigs up in government loved the fact that we were in such a state. I've never truly forgiven Josh for throwing away my King Kai shirt. I probably would still be able to fit in it even now too... My Brother is Arrested for Being a Break-In Thief but Also Not? While my brother has been responsible for a healthy amount of grief in my life, that's not to say he hasn't had his share of misfortune, and that I haven't been provoked beyond anger on his behalf more than once. Josh has been bullied before because of his handicap, and the more I matured, the more I realized that I wouldn't stand for it. One day, a good family friend pulled into our driveway with Josh in the passenger seat, and he looked like a man broken. Recently, some young people in our quiet, peaceful suburban neighborhood had turned to crime, and the police were running in circles trying to subdue them. Imagine their excitement when an anonymous tip tells them that a shady-looking young man had been seen loitering around (read: walking through) an apartment complex, and that suddenly, hey, they're 100% sure that the person they saw is a wanted criminal. They were so excited to finally apprehend somebody, that when they found the man in question, when they can't get an articulate answer out of him (Josh has a stuttering problem, especially under duress) they start to cuff him then and there, and when he tries to resist, they force him to the ground. I honestly couldn't fault the officers for doing their job, but the thing that really incensed me was that some rear end in a top hat saw a random dude going about their own business and immediately goes red alert. If it hadn't been for our friend driving past and seeing Josh sitting on the ground, hands cuffed behind his back, and crying his heart out with six police officers surrounding him, he'd have been carted off to the station and possibly questioned. I do remember my reaction this time, and it was frothing, incoherent, directionless rage upon hearing that my big brother had been crying all because of some irresponsible jackass. I can count on one hand the number of times I have seen Josh cry, and even thinking about it now makes my heart twist. Since then, I have been extremely quick to come to his defense, but he's far stronger in character than me now, and I doubt he'll ever need the help of his little sister in that respect. 
kinmik fucked around with this message at 20:49 on Nov 14, 2012 |
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Nov 14, 2012 20:47
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Jesus, I hope you broke as many of Josh's possessions for what he did.
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Nov 15, 2012 02:15
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I dunno; if you look at the second story as comeuppance for the first, it kinda evens out.
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Nov 15, 2012 21:38
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This is actually something that I should have clipped onto the last story as they have some parallels, but I was getting a little tired. Side Story: "Are you afraid of Josh?" Ask me again and I swear I'll punch you in the throat All three of us siblings grew up in a very tight-knit Mormon culture and community. That meant daily early morning seminaries and weekly socials at night, but on the bright side, if there was even a whisper that a member was ailing or pregnant, or a single parent needed a child looking after, there was always someone eager to step in and offer their aid, or even a hot, home-cooked meal. Of course, that also meant that word traveled loving fast, regardless if it happened to be true or not. Sunday. During a brief period of everyone milling about preparing to separate to classes, our bishop (our high-ranking priest of sorts) calls me over into his office. Whenever that happens, any young teen braces themselves expecting to give the next prayer during sacrament or somesuch nonsense. He closes the door and I take a seat across from him. He folds his hands over the imposing hardwood desk separating us and takes a long, hard look at me. "Kinmik...are you--?" Whatever he's about to ask me is obviously giving him some pause, and the look in his eyes is deeply troubled. "Are you afraid of Josh?" "Excuse me?" He goes on to explain that someone, a youth in my age group, had disclosed to him that I had, in turn, revealed to them that I was feeling insecure in my own home. That I feared for my safety while in the presence of my brother. "What? No! What? What??" I had never made any such statement, to anybody. This was utterly preposterous. What ignorant busybody made it their business to make up a lie like that? The more I dwelled on it, the angrier and more indignant I became. How dare they presume? How dare they even try to get Josh in such a predicament? How loving dare they try to stick their nose in my life? In ours! Then I remembered. Josh had been caught peeking into the girls room while another young woman had been changing in there. He made it a habit to prop the door open with the garbage can. There was something else. For nigh onto two years, Josh had been a fervent frequenter of sites like AdultFanfiction and fanfiction.net, and printing literal reams of smut fiction from his favorite PBS shows like Arthur, Dragon Tales, and of all things, motherfucking Caillou. I had stumbled onto a few choice printings and being a stupid hormonal teenager, skimmed them, and what I found in some made my skin crawl: Incest fics. Graphic ones. My brother was into incest. Of course, my family found out (though not specifically about the incest stories), and he was made to burn them. Am I afraid of Josh, even now? Probably not, though it haunts the back of my mind whenever I visit the family. Postscript: I've recently found out, through my parents and sister, that though Josh has been banned from the household internet, he still prints gratuitous amounts of smut. From the public library computers. And this segues nicely into my final story about Josh My Brother is a Budding Furry Those stories that Josh lovingly tucked away into a folder in his backpack? Those stories that he carried with him to school, and now work? They predominantly featured furries. It's widely said that Disney's Robin Hood planted the seeds into future "yiffers", and my brother was no exception. He loved that movie to death, going so far as to make this public request on a social media site recently.  When I saw that, I tasted bile. "Skippy" is a young rabbit, like, ten years old young. I first made the discovery to his...preferences late in high school. It was amazingly simple. I caught him looking at the site "yiffstar" or whatever, like furaffinity with lots of badly drawn porn (or maybe they're the same, nobody tell me). After that, I noticed an increasing amount of interest in regards to things like the aforementioned kids' shows, Redwall, and Pokemon. The PBS programs especially. Josh would come home from school and work and watch all of them religiously, god help you if you interrupted him or even called him to dinner. He once spent an entire month's paycheck on the entire series of Arthur. I am wholeheartedly grateful my parents don't have cable, lest my edging-into-his-thirties furry brother also become a ponyfucker. Living with an autistic sibling for more than two decades has made me come to several heartbreaking assessions.
In summation, Josh is the type of person who falls more into the "pity than revile" camp for me. He is my brother, after all. Vagabundo posted:Jesus, I hope you broke as many of Josh's possessions for what he did.
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Nov 16, 2012 20:26
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Holy poo poo. The story about throwing away change was cute but that's just disturbing.
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Nov 19, 2012 00:31
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MAN there have been some AMAZING stories in this thread... So after my terrible, misguided stories about my mother, I decided to come back for one last hurrah. Submitted for the approval of the gently caress We Knew Some Crazies Society, I call this story... Glenda Sat on Sinatras' Lap, Was Probably a Lich Glenda Goodwitch. This is not her name, obviously. She was my career counselor at my high school, and she was probably one of the nicest people I've ever met, and pretty good at her job of getting stupid high schoolers after school work, and helping them figure out college applications. She always had a kind word for you when you walked into her office with a pile of poo poo for her to go through while you stared at it like a slack-jawed doof. She was a really small woman too, with thick glasses- owlish, kind of, so she overall had the appearance of a grandmother, or a great aunt. I had a real fondness for one of my late great aunts, so Glenda was a bit of a stand-in when Auntie Barbie died. I was also dead-set on going to Berkeley (HAHAHA DID NOT HAPPEN). As a result, I spent a lot of time in her office throughout my high school career. Overall, nice lady, kind of spacey, but very helpful and appropriately affectionate towards students (i.e. not creepy, never gave off any signs of being crazy.) Her office was pretty awesome, so I didn't mind being in there after school a lot. It always had cookies or brownies, and the walls were literally COVERED in framed, often autographed photos of celebrities. In particularly, Amy Jo Johnson, whom many of you would recognize as Kimberly, the Pink Ranger from the American version of Super Sentai, The Power Rangers:  Not the one with the crotch bulge. Glenda also had a lot of stories about various celebrities: she'd once sat on Sinatra's lap, Elvis had "propositioned" her... but she had A LOT about Amy, because holy gently caress guys, Amy Jo Johnson was her daughter. Even at my ripe old age of 15, that was pretty loving cool. I was still watching Power Rangers at that age, kind of religiously, whenever there were reruns, so to meet the loving mom of Kimberly, whom was my absolute favorite, was awesome. Everyone knew about her daughter, of course, and kids were always begging Glenda to bring Amy by the school to sign autographs, but the excuse was always the same: "Oh, she's so busy doing her show!" And we took that and accepted it, and got our applications filled out, and ate her cookies. Cut to 10 years later. I'm sitting in my living room with some friends watching Power Rangers RPM after getting sick of trying to get through Mighty Morphin. All of the sudden, I remember that holy poo poo I had a career counselor in high school who was Kimberly's mom! I'm so excited that I tell all my friends, make this HUGE deal out of it, and get all worked up. They all insist that I look up Amy's IMDB page to confirm. Hey, that's reasonable! I obey, smiling hugely, happy memories of Glenda flooding back. She was so sweet with her cute little stories and all the pictures of her daughter everywhere, and so lively and dead in 1998 apparently. That's right, according to Miss Johnson's IMDB page, "her mother, Christine, died of uterine cancer, with which she had struggled for ten months" in August of 1998. I started high school in 2001, so either Glenda was a ghost, or a liar. Honestly I really would have rather had her be a loving ghost. I was weirdly broken for a few minutes. Here was this woman, whom I had really cared about in high school, and she was a liar. Just a straight up crazy, crazy woman. The worst part was that as I was sitting there, informing my friends of my totally legit insane career counselor, I realized I couldn't for the life of me remember her name, like, at all.
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Nov 19, 2012 09:10
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To be fair maybe she was a step mother or god mother or something?
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Nov 19, 2012 19:32
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cuntvalet posted:To be fair maybe she was a step mother or god mother or something? I considered that, but it's pretty unlikely. She wasn't married and said she never had been... which should have really been a BIG clue that she was kind of crazy. She was still totally awesome, though, so even if she was a little crazy, I still like her 
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Nov 19, 2012 20:33
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As lies and delusions go, claiming to be the mother of the pink power ranger was probably just her way to feel special and connect with kids on another level. It's not like she talked constantly about all the great things she and her actress daughter were doing together... or did she? I mean, it's one thing to have an autographed photo and go "yeah, she's my daughter" when people ask, but to concoct an elaborate web of lies around being involved in her dead not-daughter's glamorous life would be really sad.
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Nov 19, 2012 20:49
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Haymaker_Betty posted:ghost ghost power ranger You reminded me of a woman I worked with who also had an office spackled in photos. Sammi (name changed, blah blah blah) was the office manager of the store I worked in, and as one of her duties was tracking the store's financials, she was one of two people in the store who had an actual office to herself. For a span of about eight years, this office was wallpapered with photos of the casts of Buffy and Angel. They were all glossy promo pics, the kind of stuff you'd tear out of a calendar or an episode guide--although of course she hadn't torn them, she'd very carefully cut and cropped them; a straight edge had to be involved at some point. There was a clear preference for pics of Buffy and Angel, but enough of the cast was represented that I don't think she had any creepy affinity for any particular character. At a glance you might guess she was a Willow fan, though, as her hair was always some varied shade of bottled orange. Sammi was something of an inappropriate toucher, getting too close to people's personal space and sometimes giving one-armed side-hugs during celebratory staff meetings and the like. She only did this with old-timers she thought were her friends; I ended up with more than a few awkward hugs with her that always made me feel dirty. Sammi stank, y'see. Not a visible aura of putridness, like with some of the people in this thread, but her breath was absolutely foul. It smelled like she packed a full diaper for lunch. For all I know she actually had some sort of medical condition--at lunch, all she ever ate was meat and cheese. Just variations on that: mac 'n' cheese, or ham and cheddar sandwiches (not even one slapped together at home, but those weird-rear end "microwave subs" you see in the grocer's deli fridge from Hormel or whatever). This is one of the things the staff gossiped about, and I don't think anyone ever saw her eat a veggie in her lunch. (You wouldn't know it by looking at her, though--she was stick thin. Metabolism, or tapeworm? Either way I'm jealous.) She was also a "rail fan," who took at least two train trips a year and always brought back magazines and flyers about the cars she'd been on or when the track had been laid or so forth. That's not really crazy, just.... throwing it out there.
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Nov 19, 2012 21:38
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Everything Counts posted:Sammi stank, y'see. Not a visible aura of putridness, like with some of the people in this thread, but her breath was absolutely foul. It smelled like she packed a full diaper for lunch. For all I know she actually had some sort of medical condition--at lunch, all she ever ate was meat and cheese. Just variations on that: mac 'n' cheese, or ham and cheddar sandwiches (not even one slapped together at home, but those weird-rear end "microwave subs" you see in the grocer's deli fridge from Hormel or whatever). This is one of the things the staff gossiped about, and I don't think anyone ever saw her eat a veggie in her lunch. (You wouldn't know it by looking at her, though--she was stick thin. Metabolism, or tapeworm? Either way I'm jealous.) That stench was the result of her diet. It's not terribly uncommon for people who eat mostly meat and dairy, that they'll have a strong, greatly unpleasant body odor and/or breath. I worked for a guy like that, another library student who was my age. He ate almost nothing but fast food, meat, dairy, and starches. Hated vegetables and fruit for whatever reason. He also didn't like to wear body spray or cologne, because he had mild asthma, and heavy fragrances irritated him. It wasn't that bad, for the most part, although some days he had a force field of stank all around him. One day, I came into work and stopped briefly in his office. The second I stepped over the threshold, I walked smack into a wall of body odor. Our talk was only going to be two minutes; I cut it down to twenty seconds. Then I headed up to the floor where a couple of friends were working to gossip. They told me they had been avoiding the boss by scent, like a couple of rabbits hiding from a smelly old hound. I was a shift supervisor under this guy, along with another girl. The two of us ended up sitting our boss down one day, and giving him a tag-team lecture on his lack of social skills. We seriously had to tell him things like "Stop staring at girls' cleavage when you talk to them, because that will get you fired someday."
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Nov 20, 2012 00:25
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Anoia posted:As lies and delusions go, claiming to be the mother of the pink power ranger was probably just her way to feel special and connect with kids on another level. It's not like she talked constantly about all the great things she and her actress daughter were doing together... or did she? Oh no, she talked about it every time you went into her office. All about Kimberly's gymnastics tournaments, and her charity work, etc. The other tip-off should have been the fact that Glenda usually referred to Amy as "Kimberly," and not "Amy," the actress's actual name. The more I think on this and write about it, the more I begin to wonder how the gently caress I ever believed her  and she had, like, every kid fooled, too.But yes, she was totes harmless, just sad and probably super-lonely.
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Nov 20, 2012 06:00
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I know my partner reads this thread and I have never told him this but... I was the crazy. It's not very interesting but when I was about 11 years old I was obsessed with an anime called Escaflowne, I can't remember if I was convinced I was Hitomi (the protagonist) or if I just really wished I could be her, either way it was terrifying as heck when I look back on it. I remember I used to sit around in the school library writing letters in pseudo Japanese and leaving them in books because I believed that these letters could be magically transported to Gaea. The worst incident was in ICT class, we were doing some sort of visual test and this blurred image appeared, I thought it was a silhouette of Hitomi's profile. I sat there quietly for a long time not doing anything, quietly sobbing. My best friend who was sat next to me turned and asked what was wrong and I screamed "I JUST WANT TO DIE" which if I recall is a line in the Escaflowne movie that helped Hitomi get transported to Gaea. The teacher ran over in a panic and just stood awkwardly trying to comfort me but at this point I was screaming and crying as though I was experience pure despair. He led me out of the classroom with my bag and told me to go relax in the library, where I sat and drew more anime and wrote letters. I have no idea why I was like this or how I snapped out of it. I used to keep the crazy to a minimal at home too, I don't know why it would just come out in school, maybe a bizarre attempt to impress my peers?
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Nov 20, 2012 14:32
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Solefald posted:"I JUST WANT TO DIE" You are a very brave person for sharing that. If there's one twist this thread hasn't had yet, or hasn't yet had enough of, it is stories coming from the crazy people's perspective. I really hope more people come out and share these kinds of things as to Thank you for this.
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Nov 20, 2012 20:22
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I went to an anime club when I was an early teen to watch Escaflowne... I share your pain.
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Nov 20, 2012 21:08
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Bobbie Wickham posted:One day, I came into work and stopped briefly in his office. The second I stepped over the threshold, I walked smack into a wall of body odor. Oh man. We had a guy in my two week long training class for a telecommunications job that was pretty much exactly this. He wasn't leery on top of everything else, one of those 'can't help but be supremely awkward' nerdy-as-sin skinny guys that you could tell was always going to be picked on until his dying day. He had a hee-haw donkey laugh, told the dumbest jokes, and did the 'awkward chuckle' after telling them even when the room was dead silent. As if that weren't bad enough, that dude had BO issues you would not (or, you would, probably) believe. And there we were, stuck in a tiny training room with extremely poor ventilation as he cracks bad jokes and looks like, any day now, he's going to realize he's a horrible wreck of a human being, and blow his head off. A case of 'we are all visibly trying really loving hard to be nice to this dude but you really can't help but want to throw him out a window' thanks to all the manfunk happening. On the actual production floor, there was a troglodyte-looking fat dude that wore the same clothes so often that the armpits of the formerly white shirt were a) brown, b) visibly stiff. Both of them were older than me by 10 years, easily. To contribute a 'scary soulbonder' story in case this becomes an 'awkward coworkers with body odor' marathon: I knew a lady who was, at the time, twelve years older than me at the age of 36. She thought that she had a soulbond with James Sunderland from Silent Hill 2. My friend, whom she immediately said was obviously Maria, she ended up stalking-- to the point of breaking into said friend's email account. I'm a little leery of going into too much detail, since ~said soulbonder~ is insanely hypervigilant about checking for posts about the matter, so I'd have to figure out a way to write it up that isn't too telling, but I will say this: when someone says you're bonded to one of the main villains of the Silent Hill series to your face, and means it both lovingly, and seriously, there's really no good way to respond. Reading about Denise was like having nigh-constant flashbacks to those days. It was a strange mix of awkward/hilarious/uncomfortable/oddly relieving to read all of that. So! A heartfelt Thank You/gently caress You to uglynoodles for that one.  EDIT - Haymaker Betty, to this day, I will never stop being mesmerized by your avatar. Old Boot fucked around with this message at 09:27 on Nov 21, 2012 |
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Nov 21, 2012 08:40
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An Old Boot posted:
Oh god I could smell your post. I go to a university full of hippie-dippy people who insist that deoderants are the devil. You know what? Fine. But loving bathing isn't. And to contribute to the general "I was the Real-Life Crazy Daisy  " pool of stories, yes, I was an extremely weird kid (as all little kids are). My weirdness was talking to myself as though I were various characters from stories I was writing. I would act out whole scenes, quietly to myself. Sometimes in my room, sometimes in the kitchen, sometimes in the shower, and sometimes at school because I was loving weird and talked to myself and no one sat with me at lunch as a result  I think the reason most people don't share the "I was crazy" stories is because they are embarrassed and sad when remembering them. They are usually indicative of not-so-happy times  Although, my Dad did get a couple good videos of me talking to myself out of it, and my mom liked to stand outside my door and listen to my stories, so... Also, I believed Borrowers were real and insisted on leaving them things to take in the garage. My mother encouraged this behavior. I, too, am mesmerized by my avatar. A friend got it made for me - I know avatar talk is kind of frowned upon, though, so I will only say that when you finally figure out what the gently caress it's referencing (no, not the movie), I may have to tell a story.
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Nov 21, 2012 10:17
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about horribly smelly and weird folks
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Haymaker_Betty posted:Oh god I could smell your post. I go to a university full of hippie-dippy people who insist that deoderants are the devil. You know what? Fine. But loving bathing isn't. I ran into a dude in college who was "part Native American" and justified his lack of hygiene as getting back in touch with his tribal roots. Let's just ignore the fact that historical documents show us most tribes were very clean and thought that Europeans who didn't bathe were disgusting and stinky 
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Nov 21, 2012 14:07
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Haymaker_Betty posted:
I thought that was pretty normal for kids around five to ten ish.
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Nov 21, 2012 14:10
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Mind Loving Owl posted:I thought that was pretty normal for kids around five to ten ish. Up to a certain point I guess. When I got bored I would assign a personality to random objects and act out scenes with them. Classmates with less active imagination definitely thought I was pretty weird for playing with and talking to twigs or erasers. V V
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Nov 21, 2012 15:07
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Haymaker_Betty posted:Oh god I could smell your post. I go to a university full of hippie-dippy people who insist that deoderants are the devil. You know what? Fine. But loving bathing isn't. I've met a few of these types. I have and still do regularly have a dealer's booth at conventions, so I've seen all sorts, and there's one person that crops up a lot around the UK and Europe who has the whole "I refuse to wash" going on. She is also about 450lb, no exaggeration. Her hair is a stringy greasy mat that appears to have stopped growing out of protest, because it's never seen a hairdresser and doesn't seem to have gotten much longer. Constant giant sweat stains under the arms, under the boobs (no bra, they are evil), at the crotch and around the belly rolls. She reeks so badly, but will tell people proudly that chemicals are evil and she won't use any products at all, and that washing away "the body's natural oils" is harmful. Brrrrr. Also had the misfortune once to be sat next to an extremely talented artist/craftswoman hippie...who refused to wash her hair or wear shoes. She was also rank, but she would sit with her feet up on a chair facing me, and they were caked in a layer of filth. I couldn't stand to look at the nails, suffice to say they had a big black-brown ring all around them. That was a miserable event. 
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Nov 21, 2012 15:10
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Haymaker_Betty posted:Also, I believed Borrowers were real and insisted on leaving them things to take in the garage. My mother encouraged this behavior. I can't help but find this sort of adorable.
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Nov 23, 2012 04:53
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effervescible posted:I can't help but find this sort of adorable. So did my mom- my stepdad, not so much, because I would take tools from his stash that I hadn't seen him use in a while, and put them in little shoe boxes that I had set up to look like rooms in a house, with little bits of broken dollhouse furniture- the tools were so they could fix them! But they were things like nails, screws, bolts, etc. I honestly think the weirdest "not normal poo poo for a kid to do" stuff I did- because really, the rest is sort of, "Uh, yeah, so did, like, every kid with no friends and a sibling who hated them"- was, when I was 7, I became obsessed with sex. I learned about it a bit too early, I think, and was totally fascinated with the whole process. I think I masturbated for the first time at 9, looked at porn for the first time (on purpose, while knowing full well why I was) at 11. I also insisted to my best friend at 13 that I was totally going to grow up to be a prostitute and couldn't wait for all the sexy sex I would have, just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. My parents, however, had no idea how obsessed with sex I was. I was really tech-savvy at that point, and good at covering my tracks. My mom still thinks I was a giant prude like I pretended to be, but every once in a while I let something slip- an illicit make-out here, a blowjob there. Honestly, though, that's probably the weirdest I was, and even that I only think is considered weird because I'm a woman, not a man. And it's normal for little boys to be horndogs, not so much little girls. I grew out of a lot of the "WOO SEX IS SO CRAAAZY MYSTERIOUS" shtick by like 15, though. And when I finally did it, it really wasn't all it was cracked up to be- 18 year olds are terrible at sex. FAKE EDIT: "a blowjob there" sounds like something you'd say on a ship: "ARR! THAR BE A BLOWJOB THAR! RIGHT OFF THE PORT BOW!" or something. No, I have never seen the porn Pirates
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Nov 23, 2012 06:37
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Haymaker_Betty posted:
That all seems fairly normal. Children have vivid imaginations and always play pretend even when alone. I used to draw my comic characters, cut them out and then play with them like dolls, it's kind of sweet really because I've kept some of them and I still work on that comic today. I also used to be convinced I was a Jedi but again I think most children go through phases like that anyway?
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Nov 23, 2012 20:40
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Solefald posted:That all seems fairly normal. Children have vivid imaginations and always play pretend even when alone. I used to draw my comic characters, cut them out and then play with them like dolls, it's kind of sweet really because I've kept some of them and I still work on that comic today. My four-year-old is currently going through a phase where all of his play revolves around Power Rangers. On more than one occasion he has said he's the Red or White Ranger. After reading this thread my first reaction to his antics isn't amusement, it's concern. "I hope he's not still doing this at 14 and telling people he's headmates with the Dino Zord." It takes a few moments to remind myself that no, he's fine, this is perfectly normal at his age. For now.
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Nov 23, 2012 21:10
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Everything Counts posted:After reading this thread my first reaction to his antics isn't amusement, it's concern. "I hope he's not still doing this at 14 and telling people he's headmates with the Dino Zord." It takes a few moments to remind myself that no, he's fine, this is perfectly normal at his age. For now. 
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Nov 23, 2012 22:03
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Solefald posted:I know my partner reads this thread and I have never told him this but... I was the crazy. Escaflowne is the anime I really liked and as in typical teenage girl fashion I was in love with one of the characters, but I didn't believe he was real. That character Denise told me was totes in love with me and followed me around 5ever was Dilandau from Escaflowne. For my birthday in October, La_Fausse_Tortue [Kat] sent me the box set of the series. I immediately thought of this thread.
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Nov 24, 2012 14:20
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