Bobby Digital posted:

Pretend this says ibntumart

grumplestiltzkin posted:

I've gotta ask, who is zaurg and why do they need to get a divorce?

quote:

Had the most awesome sex last night. Seriously probably the best in the past 2 years. Didn't even use any of the porn, sex toys, or lube. Stuck to the plan of handling getting daughter to bed, set up some candles, poured her some chilled wine, and I am so surprised about how smoothly it went. Wasn't weird or awkward or anything like I had been thinking it might be after a 5 month hiatus. I think some renewed confidence helped me a lot.

jezebel poster posted:

This past year at Washington’s big outdoor festival, Sasquatch, my friends’ band was playing on one of the smaller stages. My group and I headed out pretty early in the day to catch them (they actually ended up getting a great crowd, but because they had an early set time, I was super afraid that nobody would show up). Their show went great! They rocked it, people noticed, there was so much dancing! To make things even better, one of my favorite singer/songwriters was playing a set after them on the same stage. Perfect! We’d have awesome spots for the show.

As one does at an outdoor concert that charges outrageous prices for drinks, my friends and I had snuck in a few bottles of cheap 2-buck chuck chardonay in our water bottles. Which, we’d quickly realized, weren’t very insulated and weren’t doing a great job at keeping it cold. So we guzzled them. In the afternoon. In 90-something heat. By the time my friends’ band were off the stage, we were pretty happy, feeling it, and pretty much straight up drunk. Oh, well, here comes the singer/songwriter!

At this point, I should mention that the musician is Damien Jurado and I sorta know him, but not really. We were briefly both members of the same Moped Army, only I owned a scooter, not a moped, and was only sorta a member/showed up to events like three times. I’d met him, we’d talked, I didn’t really like him too much as a person, but I HAD met him, like nine years earlier.

His showtime comes and passes. Nothing. There’s just an empty stage with a chair in front of a microphone, but no Damien Jurado. More time goes by. My boyfriend and I are standing at the very middle front of the stage. We’re starting chants, trying to egg him into coming out. Nothing. The guy behind us is like, Where is he? I’m like, I don’t know! Then, because I was drunk, I was like, YOU KNOW?!?!? I KNOW HIM!!! I SHOULD JUST GO BACK THERE AND TELL HIM WE’RE READY! The guy is like, YOU SHOULD loving DO THAT. Somehow, my boyfriend doesn’t here this conversation going on, therefore he doesn’t realize that I then up and leave. I go to the side of the stage where there’s a teenage kid standing to keep people from going backstage. I smile at him, kind of flash my (totally normal person) pass, and breeze past him.

I’m backstage. My friends who had just played should be back there, I think, since they just got off the stage and should be packing up still (they actually weren’t, they had already been ushered away to do some press interviews) so I wander around looking for them and thinking that if I see Damien I’ll be like, DUDE GET OUT THERE, YOU’RE LATE! But I can’t find them or him or anyone. So I go to the side of the stage and I start waving at my boyfriend. He’s not looking, so I step out a little bit further and wave some more. Still, not looking. The guy in the audience who I’d talked to, however, was looking. He’s smiling and whooping it up and encouraging me. So I walk out a little further waving at my boyfriend. He’s still just like looking at his phone. But the rest of the audience isn’t. They all start screaming, thinking that someone is coming out to start the show.

gently caress it! I thought. I’ll start the show. So I continue across the stage, sit down in the chair in front of the mic, and say, “It’s my great honor and privilege to introduce the one and only, one of Seattle’s favorite folk-rock sons, Damien Jurado! (or something as dumb as that, ugh, wine, you are the bane of my existence)” Only the mic was off. I’m then just a drunk person sitting in a chair on a stage in front of a poo poo ton of people. I kind of turn to the side and I see the sound guy scrambling behind the sound board and then he points at me and nods. So I start to repeat what I’d just said and this time the mic was on. At this point, my boyfriend whips his head up and was like WHAT IN THE GOOD GOD HELL? And then he starts filming it.

When I finish, I think, Oh, shizz, I don’t know what to do now. And then I feel a tap on my shoulder. It’s Damien with his guitar. He says, “Thanks for that introduction!” Suddenly I realize I should get the hell out of his chair, so I jump up, walk off stage, walk right back past that teenager and back to my boyfriend. Who was equal parts horrified and impressed. Maybe more of the latter, since he’s since proposed and we’re getting married next month?

The show was epic.

Mr E posted:

Yes, I like sneaking in loving wine to a concert.

quote:

We were briefly both members of the same Moped Army

Bobby Digital posted:

Pretend this says ibntumart

HOOLY BOOLY posted:

Does anybody still have the story that goes with the thread title? Something about some dude trying to outperform another dude in a gym i think?

This thread really needs its own Wiki for classic STDH posted:

I went in to lift today I didn't really wanna go to heavy I never really do when I'm on vacation I never seem to lift well. I was doing some hang snatches in this oly section in the corner of this gym keeping to myself when I here some guy talking to his friend about "that loving crossfit fagget" I let it go hey maybe he's not talking about me. I work up to a 100kg triple not shattering any world records just about body weight. After a little while it becomes evident I am the crossfit fagget and that this is the guy who's been a rear end in a top hat to my dad. I cranked my rear end in a top hat to 11 and began out assholing this guy. I tripled 110 in the hang snatch a huge pr for me. Next I started doing whatever that rear end in a top hat was doing. He started dead lifting so I I dead lifted he pulled 330 with straps and a belt and he was grunting and making a huge scene. I worked up to 450 for a beltless triple with a pause on the bottom of each huge pr (and honestly I thought it was 420 but I'm an idiot and accidentally loaded 450). His deadlift session abruptly stopped. I begn following him around doing whatever he did for the same rep scheme at higher weights, he started getting really frustrated. Finally he started doing some shrugs with DBS so I asked if I could work in and he said ok so I started doing db bench with them. When I got up he left had left the gym.

Zaphod42 posted:

Hahaha, what?!

EmmyOk posted:

So long and so full of lies. A brave and noble soul totally put this telemarketer in his place. As always even if it was somehow true he still makes himself out to be the rear end in a top hat. Telemarketers clearly have lovely jobs and are often not allowed to hang-up, they have to wait for the customer to do it.

http://imgur.com/gallery/zmIID

ibntumart posted:

It's my own fault. I never took her to a Ruth's Chris while we were dating, faithful Muslim that I am, so I never learned she was concealing such a dark secret.

Double Plus Good posted:

For some reason I thought this quote was from another stdh about a dude farting on children in the toy aisle.

quote:

I'm about 6'7'' so even when I'm just trying to be friendly (i.e. not farting on a stanger kid's head) and meeting a family member's or friend's kid for the first time, I've noticed they get very 'hide between their mother's legs' intimidated on sight if I'm not sitting down. So it's not hard for me to silence/intimidate a child, especially when I'm trying to.

However, a few times I've been called out. One time I was pretty drunk with a friend at a Target buying Risk (and no, we never finished playing the whole game). This little mexican 5-7 year old with a mohawk, was being an insufferable little poo poo in the action figure section. I heard him from like 5 aisles over and it was like nails on a chalkboard. I tell my friend, "I'm gonna fart on this kids head. Watch and learn."

I saunter on over to the aisle in question and see the vile little prick calling his mom an "idiot" for not buying him a huge loving G.I. JOE The Movie vehicle (which pissed me off even more considering how awful that movie was. BUY SOME GOOD TOYS!) "I already bought that one for you and you broke it by throwing it down the stairs" "SHUT UP. I NEED IT. IT'S THE ONLY ONE I DON'T HAVE NOW." The mother was younger than me (I'm mid twenties) and gave a defeated look, "I don't have enough money right now." "YOU ARE AN IDIOT," and continued to just berate and publicly shame this woman.

At the time, I was on a strict Chipotle carnitas burrito diet. And while I was watching all this, my stomach gave me an initial warning gurgle (very courteous stomach) telling me I was about an hour away from punishing the toilet. Serendipity! Destiny!
I inch a bit closer to my prey, inspecting some wrestling toys and pondering the weird homoeroticness of the whole 'sport' in general. The kid shouts "gently caress YOU, I HATE YOU!" The mom rolls her eyes and turns her back to the kid to ignore him. And could you believe it, the kid gets on his hands and knees and starts taking the toy out of the box. It's go time, motherfucker.
I position my back towards him and at this point am like 2 feet away from him. His head is down, getting frustrated with those god drat twisty tie things, and I go for the kill. I bend down to reach for the one of the toys on the lower shelf. At this point, my rear end is INCHES away from this kids head.

Now, generally speaking, the best way to go about this is to act casual, drop your belly bomb, then walk away after a few seconds like nothing is out of the ordinary. I usually go one aisle over and listen to the kid's reaction in delight. However, today I couldn't help myself. I have my head tilted back looking at this kid out of the corner of my eye, to ensure accuracy.
I'm so close that from a distance it looks like I'm about to sit on him,. My friend sees this happening and can no longer contain himself. He's covering his mouth, but his 'hee-haw' hyperventilating donkey chortle is fairly audible over the late 90's pop muzak playing on the loudspeakers.

The kid immediately looks up towards the laughter, but can't help but notice there is an rear end now directly in his face. Now, I'm trying not to laugh but also panicking as I just made eye contact with him. He furls his brow and I look over in the mother's direction, still back towards us. I relish in the moment and the look on this child's confused and naive face.
The initial blast was mighty and boisterous. I swear I saw his hair blowing in the wind (so to speak). If I wasn't wearing jeans, I think it could have probably blown over an empty soda can. I would call it "a very fun fart" (A++ would buy again). However, what immediately followed that out the chamber was truly horrifying. The fart's implication changed without notice and swiftly. It went from a joyous, dry airhorn squeal to a nefarious, hissing mephitis. I think the little moppet noticed the hateful metamorphosis before even I did because he wretched his neck violently trying to get away from the personified evil being fumigated into his soul. Because of his positioning (hovering over the toy, hands and knee), it was all in vain as the only way out was forward...and forward would mean certain death. I had positioned myself well on the higher ground, free to escape or relent at any time and him, poor and immobilized: biding his time until the cruel attack was over. Obviously, this child needed to re-read Sun Tzu.

In total, it lasted about 4 seconds but for that kid, it must have seemed like time was frozen. The long-term severe brain damage which he no doubt suffered, only added to that effect.

When I finished with my bidness (i.e. forcing a little boy to huff my farts), there was a silent, pregnant pause. The kid was clearly shocked and stunned. No one had ever stood up to this dwarf sociopath in his whole life. I had taken the words out of his mouth and filled it with fart.

I make my move first, picking up the toy I was "reaching for" off the low shelf, take a few steps forward and stare at it for a few seconds. On '2 alligator,' the only thing the kid could manage to do was burst into tears. My friend senses danger 'the jig is up' and his head darts for cover. The mom turns around to see her kid with an open toy, crying on the floor and me minding my own business.

She walks up to him and asks what's wrong but the kid can't speak. All he gets out is, "BAWAWAAAWAFARTBAWAWA." It took every fiber in my body not to laugh. I put the toy back on a middle shelf, turn around, give a final nonchalant looksy and then begin to take my exit.

Sensing that his assailant was getting away scot-free, he somehow managed to compose himself for a moment. He shouts, "HE FARTED ON ME!" I could feel him pointing at me but I continued to act like I was just browsing. I was ALMOST around the corner when the mom goes:
"Excuse me....sir....SIR!"
I turn around nonplussed, "Uh...who? Me?" while pointing to myself.
"Yes. Did YOU just FART on my son?"
Weighing my options, I played dumb. "What? I mean, I did fart."
"On my son?"
"Well, I mean, technically speaking...I mean...what is 'on'?"
"Why did you fart on my son?"

At this point the little kid has the look of schadenfreude on his face, happy to see me in trouble. gently caress you, I'M A MAN! I WILL FART ON YOU IF I PLEASE! I turn my attention to the little kid and stare at him, "Because the whole store could hear him being a little, rotten rear end in a top hat to his mother so I thought I'd come over here and treat him like one."
The mom looks at me, her son and the scattered GI JOE/wrappers/box on the floor. The mom is puzzled as to what to do and says, "Just..just go." That's my cue! I turn around, walk away with little extra step. I look up to see the black orb of security cameras and all the stories on reddit about unjustly having to register as a sex offender flash before my eyes. As soon as I turn the corner, I book it outside as fast as I can while dialing my friend. Like a true friend, he is right out front with the engine running and Risk in the trunk.

We laugh on the car ride back about the whole scene. With a slight hint of seriousness in his tone, my friend asks me:
"Do you do that a lot?"

"Ahhh, not that much. Like once every 6 months or so."

We both knew I was lying. We got to our other friends house, played risk until 4 in the morning while drinking scotch. Overall, I would say it was a preeeetay preeeeetay good day.

ibntumart posted:

You mean this one?

EmmyOk posted:

So long and so full of lies. A brave and noble soul totally put this telemarketer in his place. As always even if it was somehow true he still makes himself out to be the rear end in a top hat. Telemarketers clearly have lovely jobs and are often not allowed to hang-up, they have to wait for the customer to do it.

http://imgur.com/gallery/zmIID

Fathis Munk posted:

At least on today's front-page there is a post calling that dude out for being a huge loving rear end in a top hat. They apparently didn't realise it didn't happen but hey, small steps

EmmyOk posted:

So long and so full of lies. A brave and noble soul totally put this telemarketer in his place. As always even if it was somehow true he still makes himself out to be the rear end in a top hat. Telemarketers clearly have lovely jobs and are often not allowed to hang-up, they have to wait for the customer to do it.

http://imgur.com/gallery/zmIID

Elysiume posted:

Is there a single person alive that wouldn't get bored listening to someone talk about forging ingots? I didn't make it through the whole list but whether or not these happened the author is insufferable.

Serperoth posted:

Link isn't working for me, do you have a run-down of it?

Fathis Munk posted:

Haha at the story of how the teacher totally owned that reporter that suggested firearms made blades obsolete. Yeaaaah sure buddy.

sweeperbravo posted:

There used to be a guy on TVTropes who was adamant that in close combat, a sword was just as effective, if not moreso, than a firearm. Maybe it was written by that guy.

System Metternich posted:

Ha, I remember that guy. Didn't he seriously suggest that if two opponents were like ten metres spaced apart, the gunman would lose because he would need precious time drawing and aiming his gun during which the swordsman with his mad ninja skills would teleport to his opponent and slice him up real good?

Fake edit: and was he in turn not the same guy as the fat one who did those "true steel" DVDs where he would slice up some pig carcasses with his katana and get really exhausted after one swing or two?

Vindolanda posted:

http://m.imgur.com/gallery/9spMI

cringeeeeeee

sweeperbravo posted:

There used to be a guy on TVTropes who was adamant that in close combat, a sword was just as effective, if not moreso, than a firearm. Maybe it was written by that guy.

Zaphod42 posted:

What the gently caress even is this.
"Tales from the forge"
Half of these are set up like a bad attempt at a forced "unreasonable blacksmith demands" meme... but the other half don't even follow that.

Some of them are just :

"How old were you when you started blacksmithing"
<picture>
"I'm a 25-year old that started blacksmithing at 13"

Uh okay?

Blacksmith Facts 1032: One time I forged a war saddle for my rescue wolf




Don't be such a jabroni.

Fathis Munk posted:

The latest imgur craze is telling anecdotes from your work in a convenient image macro format.

Some dude made a compilation. http://imgur.com/gallery/4TX08f8

Also yeah, Google 21 foot rule to see a middle age white dude chopping cardboard people up.

Fathis Munk posted:

The latest imgur craze is telling anecdotes from your work in a convenient image macro format.

Some dude made a compilation. http://imgur.com/gallery/4TX08f8

quote:

Part 2

Part 3

Zaphod42 posted:

Oh man, that's a ton of ... whatever those are.


What the gently caress

Hattori Hanzo posted:

This was entirely his fault. He thought all of our tools were for show since a lot of my knives tend to have a little flourish. he ran his fingers across the blade like people in the movies and sliced the tips clean off. we did not get paid for that job after that.

flosofl posted:

Not with a sword, but there is a real thing called the 21 foot rule when it comes to knives, but the scenario involves a holstered sidearm. It has to do with perception+reaction time+draw time taking longer than it would for a knife wielder to close the gap and stab or slice the neck running at full speed.

PUGGERNAUT posted: