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Kat R. Waulin posted:Hydrofluoric acid. You live on a pretty goofy street. This pales in comparison but a few years ago while working from home I saw a group of kids find out what happens if you knock over a pile of swarming bees. One of them flung stones at my window like a week before so it was pretty funny to watch. Lucky none of them were allergic, looking back.
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Nov 24, 2015 12:24
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Kat R. Waulin posted:I work from home. I didn't know you were a retard masturbator!
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Nov 24, 2015 12:45
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For the life of me I couldn't remember how I got there. I looked up and down Stanley Road in Bootle and it was a ghost town. Did I sleepwalk here? Taxi? I was drawing blanks. This wasn't the first time I've had a bout of lost time though and I DID feel slightly hungover, so I shrugged it off and gazed up at The Triad. For those not in the know, The Triad is a gargantuan monolith and prime example of brutalistic architecture. I found myself getting a touch of vertigo gazing skywards and having my vision filled by a sea of grey stone. At the building's pinnacle I could see a brief glimpse of the dark star hanging above it, peeking over the lip of the roof, bathing me in its cold light. I swallowed hard and entered the foyer. I had a memory, a long lost dream that I was to report to floor 17. Something about a "Self-Assessment Peak" and nothing more. I rolled the work peak around in my mouth, lest I forget it when the guard asked my purpose there. "Peak" I had visions of the mountains of Carcosa, rising up behind that silent lake. I'd never been there physically, but I knew about that terrifying, colossal mount. The lives it had claimed, the strange allure people had when they saw it. A sirens song lulling them to their doom. My initial paranoia about not seeing anyone else outside was elated when the gentleman behind the reception desk tipped his hat to me, what was that word I had to say again? I was lost in my thoughts, as dangerous as that was, "SA Peak, sir?" The gentleman asked, I nodded as he smiled. Lips curling back, slightly too far for comfort, I thought, revealing too many teeth and gums, "Floor Seventeen, sir. West wing. You'll know what to do, I'm sure of it." He gestured dramatically to the main hall and without a word I entered. My footsteps echoed throughout that hollow hall as I found myself overwhelmed by the sheer scope of the place. The building was imposing from the outside, but here? Within the belly of the beast? Only now did I truly understand the true dimensions of the place. The walls stretched upwards for at least a mile, bulbs the size of globes shone and hummed with an intensity I could hardly withstand. The longer I looked, the bigger they got and the further the walls spread out. I clamped my eyes closed and mashed the button for the lift, relieved that the *ping* alerted me to the doorway to enter lest I have to witness that insidious room again. Luck it seems, was on my side as the journey towards my destination was brief and without incident. With no idea what was awaiting me I entered the west wing. After my odious journey here I was expecting the worst. I imagined flinging open the door and stepping forward... Only to find myself tumbling from the building entirely, falling and tumbling, expecting a jolt to wake me from this nightmare only for the ground to meet me before consciousness came. Imagine my surprise then when I opened that door and was greeted with a rather humble and standard working situation. Banks of desks spread out along each wall. Each bank separated into four sections with phones and keyboards. Each seat filled with a smiling and happy face, all looking at me and waving. Dumbfounded I gingerly stepped into the threshold and introduced myself. In turn each person said welcome in a sing-song voice that lulled me into a sense of security, "You're going to love it here." One said, "It's so much fun." Said another, "I never want to leave. It's like a holiday." I smiled politely and presumed the empty space was mine and sat down. The woman opposite me, never dropping her smile, picked up her headset and motioned for me to follow her lead, which I did. She placed the device over her ears and gestured again. I followed suit. Madness. That's the only word I can use to describe what happened next. Utter madness. As soon as the pillowed sides of that headset touched my ears a cacophony of sound assaulted my senses. A hail of gibberish that I couldn't make heads nor tails of was forced into my mind and try as I might I couldn't remove the infernal device clamped to my head. I tried to scream, the cry out, but I couldn't. The noise subsided eventually and I fell back into my chair, panting, exhausted. The people around me, still wearing those ridiculous smiles nodded and said muffled praises. What did they say? I have only the vaguest idea. Something about the first being the hardest. I asked them what was going on, but my own voice, also muffled by the headset came out like a scream underwater. Deep and bassy in my ears but going no further than that. I hoisted myself upright and attempted to remove the thing on my ears, no longer content to give it an actual earthly name but as soon as I touched the cold, metallic sides the voices came again. Another torrent of nonsense I couldn't decipher. Another shocking jolt to my already reeling mind. This continued for some time. Aeons seemed to transpire. Empires would rise and fall. New evolutionary traits were blooming beyond the windows of this room, I was sure. The world I once knew had changed, continents shifted, seas dried up, the molten core of the earth had solidified leaving a cold husk hurtling through space. Then I was released. "Lunch time!" They said, the smiling mannequins surrounding me. Lunch? That eternity of torture was, in reality a mere two hours. I gagged and choked back the tears. The crowd laughed as I stumbled away. "It's so much fun!" I heard at my back, "It's like a holiday!" One of them echoed. I stumbled to the lift area and hit the buttons over and over, yet no lift came. I didn't have time to wait, for I knew that as long as those two hours felt, the half hour for lunch would be quite the opposite and probably pass within seconds. So without hesitation I threw apart the fire doors and began to scramble down the solid stone steps. Down to that warped foyer, down to the empty streets, down to freedom. My steps echoed as I descended. One floor gone, then another and another. My legs began to ache despite gravity being on my side. I was only on the seventeenth floor, why was this taking so long? I started to count. One floor, two... My breath began to condense as the temperature dropped, fifteenth floor, sixteenth floor... But the stairs continued. Did I mis-count? I was still reeling from my experience. I continued a few more floors. Completely flummoxed I exited the stairwell to see if I could find some hint as to what floor I was on. My heart sank as a giant, red seventeen greeted me in an all too familiar lift area. I collapsed. Adrenaline leaving my muscles and I fell into a quivering heap. I wondered what could befall me next. Was the floor about to open and swallow me whole? At that point I didn't care. I'd welcome it, just to escape the madness of the spatial horror of the staircase, anything to keep my mind of that, as if on queue a voice rang out, "Lasher Where are you? Lunch is over, there's five thousand people trying to get through!" A jolt of energy ran through me. A fight or flight reflex like I've never felt before in my life. They were coming for me, I knew it. A legion of smiling, happy call takers intent on sitting me back down to join them in their eternal vigil. I forced myself up, my body instinctively taking me to the stairwell again, there was no escape going down, the building wouldn't let me, but what about up? What would happen if I tried to reach further up into the tower? I ran up, taking two steps at a time and exploded into the lift area above. A red EIGHTEEN met me. I laughed, elated that I was finally made some kind of progress. I made my way up to the next floor, Nineteen and the next, which turned out to be pipes and cables. The mechanisms working the lifts and plumbing. The dim, stuttering lights swinging grimly above me cast long, ghastly shadows wherever I looked. Some might have called this area an industrial nightmare, but to me it was the most beautiful landscape I could imagine. I picked my way through the machinery, ducking underneath dripping pipes and sliding past heavy, industrial cables until I found another set of stairs leading to the roof. It took a bit of forcing, but eventually the old door gave way and I tumbled out onto the pebble strewn roof. A heavy fog had descended upon Bootle and my vision was limited. I looked up and clearly the light was piercing the haze, but I could no longer see the sky. I didn't care. There was a way out of the building and that was enough for me to cry out with joy. I staggered over to the edge and peered out into the grey wall in front of me. The fog danced and swirled gently before my eyes and I watched it a while, content to be doing anything but taking calls. A brisk wind whipped the coils before me into a fervour and I smiled. The wind, however didn't stop there, it picked up, a veritable gale now, then I saw it, the creature that was causing the air displacement. It towered above me, this colossus, and though it was a mere shadow in the mist I could make out some horrific features. Things no man should ever see, even in such a shrouded state. It's head hung forward, heavy and low. A bulbous thing that led down where its nose should be into a writhing mass of thrashing tentacles, as if a hundred massive squids were attempting to escape its maw. Long, lumbering arms swung slowly leading into hands with more fingers than naturally possible. The worst part however were the wings bunched up on the creatures back, giant and rubbery. I screamed, I'll admit it, I shrieked like a banshee and worse still, this attracted the things attention. It turned to face me, as if underwater due to its size, it slowly faced me and the fog parted slightly as it let out a breath. It gazed upon me with those huge, yellow, baleful eyes and I saw my fate in them. I was stuck here. There was no escape. This was my lot in life now, to serve this master unquestioningly. I couldn't catch my breath, my lungs wouldn't fill and I passed out. That was a week ago, I believe. Time has little meaning now. The voices come and the voices go. I don't even try and take the headset off now. The people around me smile and I smile back. I answer the calls and sit with them every now and then in the break room. Sometimes they'll comment on what a beautiful day it is outside, but I can never bring myself to look directly at the windows. When I try and swear I can see that creature again, staring in at me to remind me again where I belong. It's not so bad now, I guess. I keep my head down and bizarrely the incessant noise that comes through when I'm taking calls is starting to make sense. I can hear the voices now and can pick out key words. Who knows, maybe one day I'll be able to talk back to them.
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Nov 24, 2015 15:50
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Sorry. Bored... In work. Here's a real one. Years ago I was working in the dole office/Job Centre(dunno what this is in America. Social food stamp palace?) in Kirkby, Liverpool. Kirkby is one of the scummiest places in Liverpool and most of England hates us so when I say Kirkby is low it's the lowest of the low. So naturally during my time there I had to deal with the stinking alcoholics, violent druggies and fat mothers who stunk of piss and ciggies. I'd get attacked, spat at and worst of all most people would want to shake my hand after I dealt with them and nine times out of ten they'd have scum all over them. loving lovely. Windows would be bricked constantly too. Anyway, Friday afternoon we'd get a deluge of people flooding in demanding their dole money early. They'd say they needed to pay for bills but most of the time they'd be drunk or drugged up and just needed another fourty quid to go out drinking. Twenty minutes to closing time some girl and her brow beaten boyfriend come in. She's about 6'4 and stocky and he's about 5 foot. She's wearing pyjamas, has her hair in rollers (ready for a night out) and kicking off at the security guard. See, she wants money right now but we had a new rule in place that because this was a Job Centre you weren't allowed in unless you could feasibly start work there and then. Guard tells her she can't wear pyjamas to work and she's kicking off big time and drags her boyfriend out into the street. I look out the window and she's verbally berating him and he's taking his trousers off. (Well, sweatpants) she strips off her bottoms and puts his sweats on leaving him outside in his underpants. This tyrant marches back in and goes, "WELL I'VE GOT PROPER BOTTOMS ON NOW! GIZ ME MONEY!" The guard looks at her and tells her to get out because we're closing up now. Pretty funny.
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Nov 24, 2015 16:35
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I voted your thread 5 just now so you could push past the 4.5 limit into gold territory Lady Tax. Enjoy your golds.
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Nov 24, 2015 17:25
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In another job there was this fella who was about 4 foot and we always used to catch him having a wank in full length mirror in the toilets. Then he got a mail order bride and she started working there too and they'd often gently caress in the unused canteen.
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Nov 24, 2015 17:59
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I worked a few summers at a ecological pig farm, meaning they had space outside to chill in the mud etc. Once I found a pig outside that died a few days prior in 40C heat. He was laying directly under a window of the stable so I didn't see him when I looked outside , I only noticed something was wrong when this other pig came walking into the stable covered in blood and dragging a good few meters of guts behind him. He looked so happy  Another time a pig died in the mudpool outside The rest of the pigs made that mudpool some unholy cesspool filled with bits of pig, poo poo, mud and whatever the gently caress. Cleaning that mess up was loads of fun, especially having to chase away the 400+ kilo boar that was claiming the goodies with nothing more than a small wooden board to keep between his tusks and myself. That fucker had something against me anyway because I had to mark the sows he hosed with a spraycan, often while he was still in the act. More than once he launched me a good few meters, angry pigs are FAST! We also had a pig that had some kind of infection on its knee with an abscess the size of a baseball and when I had to rub some salve on it it burst, spraying this yellow/green goo with bloody chunks all over my face. I threw up and some other pig ate my vomit. Rule 101 on working with pigs; always keep your mouth closed. Worst was when the farmer was away and this sow was in labor, but had a stillborn piglet stuck inside her. Because I was all alone on the farm I had the farmer on the phone in one hand and my other hand up to the elbow in this pig. When I finally found the stuck piglet it disintegrated and I had to scoop bits of mushy dead piglet out of a pigs oval office. Waking up each day and first thing you do is scooping up blueish grey afterbirths from 20+ pigs before breakfast was fun too. Very particular smell. Needless to say from that moment on I started to skip breakfast because the smell would hang in your nose and make the breakfast taste faintly afterbirthy, and that is not a good taste. Another job I had was at an animal shelter. Once I had to collect two cats from this hoarder house where the dude had recently died. Remember that 'I spy with my hoarder eye' thread from a while back? Now add two frightened half wild cats you have to catch and you've got the picture. I dont know what I touched or stepped in while doing that, but the shower after I came home was the most thorough shower I ever took. The rest of the shelter stuff was pretty tame, just the occasional starved or tick ridden cat/dog, except for this one baby hedgehog where I spend the whole day picking maggots and fly eggs between its spines with a tweezer. The maggots eat their way into the hedgehog because they can't clean themselves and they die. Don't GIS Myiasis! Almost forgot. I had another job cleaning up buildings etc after fires. Having to clean a stable of 2000 dead pigs in the summer heat with two guys and a pressure hose was horrible, especially because the stable had asbestos in it so we had to wear full protection clothing/mask/etc... tl;dr Working with animals is fun!
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Nov 24, 2015 18:49
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I thought about postin in this thread for 0.000002 seconds and then realized that nobody thinks a dehisched scrotum is funny but me
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Nov 24, 2015 19:09
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elise the great posted:I thought about postin in this thread for 0.000002 seconds and then realized that nobody thinks a dehisched scrotum is funny but me Do eet, this thread needs the glory of Elise stories.
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Nov 24, 2015 19:22
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Molentik posted:I had to scoop bits of mushy dead piglet out of a pigs oval office. This is one of those things I never really expect to ever read, yet here it is. elise the great posted:I thought about postin in this thread for 0.000002 seconds and then realized that nobody thinks a dehisched scrotum is funny but me Personally, I find any instance of traumatised testicles to be absolutely hilarious and I would ask that you post this at once.
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Nov 24, 2015 19:35
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Molentik posted:I worked a few summers at a ecological pig farm, meaning they had space outside to chill in the mud etc. Once I found a pig outside that died a few days prior in 40C heat. He was laying directly under a window of the stable so I didn't see him when I looked outside , I only noticed something was wrong when this other pig came walking into the stable covered in blood and dragging a good few meters of guts behind him. He looked so happy I,...I just... 
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Nov 24, 2015 19:43
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LadyAmbien posted:I,...I just... It wasn't all bad! Seeing a hundred three month old piglets run towards you in a field is the cutest thing ever and it evened out all the horrible poo poo Like the screams.... oh man the screams pigs can produce! Theres a reason why they used pig sounds in Jurassic Park.
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Nov 24, 2015 19:51
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Heteroy posted:I put on some thick rubber gloves and approached the trap. As I pulled the trap out, I got a clear view. It was the most grotesque thing I have ever seen, and I've seen people die. The trap was literally 100% covered in rats, in varying states of decay/death. From the glimpse I had, I could tell that rats got stuck to it, and began to eat each other. I counted at least 15 rats. Some of the rats had had their skulls gnawed through and I could see the empty cavity inside. Several of the rats were still alive so the whole thing seemed to be writhing around as I held it as far from my body as possible while I tried to chuck it in a bag and get it out of the store without customers seeing. lol goddamn
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Nov 24, 2015 20:40
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Worked at a put-put course when I was 17. It was a neat place for a high school kid to work, you got to mess around and play a little golf every day, and the Wendy's next door hired pretty high school girls almost exclusively. There were only 7 of us that worked there, but the only person important to this story was Connor. Connor was a Mormon kid a year behind me in school, really nice kid, never swore, wouldn't say a bad word about anyone, just a really nice guy. I worked with Connor every Friday and Saturday night, the two of us would show up and take over for Justin and Milo around 4pm those days and we'd close down at 11pm. It was an easy gig, tell kids a few years younger than us to not hit the soda machines when it ate quarters, fast resets on old arcade machines when they'd gently caress up, signing out putters and balls and every now and then having to fix the loving windmill on the 18th hole. The windmill was a complete loving piece of poo poo. It was a big fiberglass shell with an electric evaporate cooler motor at 1/8th power to spin the windmill's "blades" at about 100 RPM. Problem was the motors had a hard time on windy days or when people would touch them, because the torque required to turn the 7 foot plywood blades was a bit more than the motor should have been handling on it's own to begin with. So any day when the wind would pick up or some kid would put his club out to hit the blade, it would cause the motor to lock up and you'd have to unplug it, hand turn the shaft and apply a little Vaseline to get it to turn again. We put a hand crank on it just to make it easier to operate really quick while the party finishes up, since the boss made sure no one got a free shot at the windmill, since the prize for winning was a free Cheeseburger, fries and frosty from the Wendy's next door, that he also owned. Connor and I had been working together for about 3 months and Summer vacation was about to end. In that time we got to be friends, I had hung out with him a few nights after work and had a burger while we tried to chat up the girls at the Wendy's next door. Got to know him well enough to see past the straight laced Mormon guy demeanor and realized he was pretty funny and knew how to cut loose and have fun. Sometimes he'd go in the windmill and hand operate it so he could block little kids from scoring the hole in one, sometimes he'd restart the pinball machines to get a free ball when one of the girls next door would come over on her break, he even had me over to hang out with his family a few times. Good people. So that night we're about an hour and a half away from closing time on a dead night. It was getting windy so the windmill started making a metallic screech, so Connor volunteered to go and fix the motor while I kept an eye on the front. Not even 4 minutes later people start to show up to play putt-putt, so I just start renting them clubs and balls and sending them out on the course. Now I see Connor's Mom show up with his little brother and sister to play some golf and see him. I let them have the putters to go play for free and said he was working on the windmill and would probably be done in a few. I go about doing nothing for the next 10 minutes when I realize Connor has been trying to fix the Windmill for like 20 minutes, when the repair normally takes us closer to 5 minutes, so I go to check on him. I get to the windmill and open the little access door and smell the worst loving stench I had ever experienced at that young age. It smelled like a turd had thrown up on a dead fish., I look in a half second before I see Connor and one of the girls from next door int here together, looking horrified. So out of pure shock I loudly say "Connor, dude what the hell is going on!?" as I pulled away from the door and back toward something that didn't smell like a New Delhi Street poo poo Stream, as I'm finishing the sentence the girl just charges out, her beige pants looking like she'd been using her rear end to go 4x4'ing after a rain storm. Connor followed quickly, trying to button his back up, but his jeans were covered in the front with what looked (yet smelled nothing like) a snickers bar thrown in a blender. Connor stopped, looked at me and said "Dude, just help me out and......" he turned ghost-white. He just stood there looking like a deer caught in the headlights of an on-coming semi-truck. I turned to see where his eyes were and saw his mom, not even 10 feet behind me with a look on her face that reminded me of the face of sheer rage Sigourney Weaver made for the entire last hour of Aliens. His mom had pieced together the same thing I had, our boy Connor was gettin himself some "keep your virginity loophole" rear end-pussy when a severe septic blowback had occurred. His mom blew-the-gently caress-up, her voice changed pitch and cantor with every word, Connor was forced to stand there, in front of 3 groups of jr. high kids and his mother while she made every parental threat possible and promised his life and career as a putt-putt operator was over and that she was going to give away his 1986 Fiero to his cousin getting back from mission since he was never leaving the house again until he went to seminary. But it was her her words I heard when she was making him get in his car to drive home took in the parking lot that really got me "Really Connor, you're doing that with your own cousin!?" Worst part was she took his rear end away before we closed, so I had to hose out the goddam Windmill that night. Plus, dude never reset the loving motor so I still had to fix it in a fiberglass hut that smelled like a bathroom after a low budget porno.
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Nov 24, 2015 21:03
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MORMAN, MOM, MORMAN! 
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Nov 24, 2015 21:08
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I used to unload sides of beef from truck trailers at a large meat processing plant when I was in college. I've unloaded soggy, hot sides from refrigerated trailers that had the refrigeration unit break hours before it arrived. Unloaded sides with large chunks of tobacco spit upon them from wherever they shipped from. Lots of sides would fall off the rails when we unloaded them. . .onto a floor covered with a layer of smashed fat, kidneys, grease, spit, loogies, sneezes and bits of whatever was on the bottom of our boots. All of these sides got processed.
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Nov 24, 2015 21:18
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Used to work in an Italian restaurant fully staffed by Mexicans One Mexican we used to call Oscar (made delicious margherita pizzas) locked himself into this huge walk in freezer we had in the basement. Something was wrong with the door hinge and the owner had previously gotten stuck in there while re-stocking some months ago. I came in to open the morning after Oscar had been cleaning up the previous night, go to the walk in freezer and inside is a very nearly dead Hispanic. Musta been in there at least six or seven hours, don't know fancy science measurements like Celsius or farenheit but it was cold as gently caress not sure how he survived
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Nov 24, 2015 23:33
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NigelsPoppet posted:Used to work in an Italian restaurant fully staffed by Mexicans His fiery Latino blood and the warmth all Mexicans carry in their hearts probably helped.
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Nov 25, 2015 06:23
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I used to work at the Red Bull factory. As many of you know, one of the primary active ingredients in Red Bull is Taurine. What most of you probably don't know is that "taurine" is just a fancy word for "bull urine." (A portmanteau of the latin "taur" meaning "bull" and "ine" as in urine.) We had a team of guys whose job was to attach the plastic tube to the bulls' dicks to collect their piss. It was a pretty common mishap that a piss milker would fumble the placement or removal of the plastic tube and end up with a face full of bull piss.
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Nov 25, 2015 16:06
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elise the great posted:I thought about postin in this thread for 0.000002 seconds and then realized that nobody thinks a dehisched scrotum is funny but me Your stories are funny and horrifying!
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Nov 25, 2015 16:49
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Applewhite posted:I used to work at the Red Bull factory. As many of you know, one of the primary active ingredients in Red Bull is Taurine. What most of you probably don't know is that "taurine" is just a fancy word for "bull urine." (A portmanteau of the latin "taur" meaning "bull" and "ine" as in urine.) Finding this hard to believe.
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Nov 25, 2015 17:46
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Applewhite posted:I used to work at the Red Bull factory. As many of you know, one of the primary active ingredients in Red Bull is Taurine. What most of you probably don't know is that "taurine" is just a fancy word for "bull urine." (A portmanteau of the latin "taur" meaning "bull" and "ine" as in urine.) hosed up if true!
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Nov 25, 2015 17:48
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FREE BULL PISS! That's a hell of a benefit.
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Nov 25, 2015 17:54
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I threw away some meat one time that was not supposed to be thrown away, a coworker come to tell me my fault. She took the raw meat from the trash and washed it under the tap and cooked it. I felt it was unsanitary but also prudent and wise, she was much older, I felt I should follow example so I eat a cookie from the trash later.
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Nov 25, 2015 18:00
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Shayu posted:I threw away some meat one time that was not supposed to be thrown away, a coworker come to tell me my fault. She took the raw meat from the trash and washed it under the tap and cooked it. I felt it was unsanitary but also prudent and wise, she was much older, I felt I should follow example so I eat a cookie from the trash later. lol what restaurant was this?
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Nov 25, 2015 18:04
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Moridin920 posted:lol what restaurant was this? McDonalds, I think the food is mostly sanitary, though. I never contracted illness from eating from the trash on occasion.
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Nov 25, 2015 18:05
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Shayu posted:McDonalds, I think the food is mostly sanitary, though. I never contracted illness from eating from the trash on occasion. Regardless, I think you should not eat out of the trash.
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Nov 25, 2015 18:17
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Shayu posted:McDonalds, I think the food is mostly sanitary, though. I never contracted illness from eating from the trash on occasion. I mean personally whatever it depends on what is in the trash already; the trash can in of itself doesn't magically contaminate food (IE if I accidentally throw some food in the trash but there's nothing under it really I'll still eat it). That said I'd never do that with food I was serving to someone else. I get it bc it's McDonald's though it's not like you're gonna care getting paid minimum wage.
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Nov 25, 2015 18:18
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Applewhite posted:Regardless, I think you should not eat out of the trash. Like you've never dug through the trash for that one last delicious hit of rum raisin, after your wife tosses all your booze out.
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Nov 25, 2015 18:20
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Crazyeyes posted:Finding this hard to believe. The bulls are fed gurana and coffee beans exclusively. Basically think of Red Bull as Civet coffee only piss instead of poo poo. The bulls' life expectancy is pretty low. We probably lost one to a heart attack at least once a week.
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Nov 25, 2015 18:21
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Applewhite posted:I used to work at the Red Bull factory. As many of you know, one of the primary active ingredients in Red Bull is Taurine. What most of you probably don't know is that "taurine" is just a fancy word for "bull urine." (A portmanteau of the latin "taur" meaning "bull" and "ine" as in urine.) think of the money you'd save if you had your own bull. you could just chug it straight from the tap and get some russian diet pills for the caffeine and you'd be all set!
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Nov 25, 2015 18:23
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Some little kid took a poo poo in the middle of McDonalds. We made the token retard clean it up.
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Nov 25, 2015 18:25
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my bony fealty posted:when I worked at a grocery store in high school, there was nothing like the feeling of an overweight person coming through your line, their cart piled high with sugary snacks and chips. nothing but empty calories filling up a whole big cart. seven two-liters of soda, one for each day of the week. DIET soda, of course. this is always so awkward for me, i'm a little chubby (6'1" 200lbs, more to love) and i love diet coke more than regular coke because of the taste, and every time i buy it i feel like i have to do some seinfeld-esque routine and tell everyone it's because i prefer the taste of diet coke 
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Nov 25, 2015 18:43
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Disabled Toilet Fun posted:Some little kid took a poo poo in the middle of McDonalds. We made the token retard clean it up. i think they took advantage of you.
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Nov 25, 2015 19:18
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Rambling Robot posted:i think they took advantage of you.  Applewhite posted:The bulls are fed gurana and coffee beans exclusively. Basically think of Red Bull as Civet coffee only piss instead of poo poo. The bulls' life expectancy is pretty low. We probably lost one to a heart attack at least once a week. Are male bison called bulls too? Because if so would that mean that red bull gives you (Buffalo) wings?
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Nov 25, 2015 19:26
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LadyAmbien posted:I,...I just... So is there like a form or something that we can fill out to nominate a Post of the Year? Because pigman up there definitely deserves some kind of award.
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Nov 25, 2015 19:29
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A strand of long brown hair. The autopsy photos in the file were of a pretty young woman killed by a drunk driver, nude, defaced of any dignity, grace or vibrancy, the top of her head shorn off; and the bill from the bar (in the hundreds) where the driver had been drinking at beforehand was shocking; but the police had collected a strand of hair from the side-view mirror where she'd breathed her last. It was in a plastic bag, and was strange as an intimate and violent artifact of a tragic death as I've ever seen.
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Nov 25, 2015 19:57
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Kumo posted:A strand of long brown hair. Was she driving naked?
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Nov 25, 2015 20:09
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Kumo posted:A strand of long brown hair. but do remember that even if the bottom part of her head was pretty, the missing part may not have been.
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Nov 25, 2015 20:13
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Booblord Zagats posted:Applewhite's story reminded me The best post itt gddamn
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Nov 25, 2015 20:25
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