Kevin Palpatine posted:

they should just start hiring 5-year-olds to do bank security...they can give them adorable little pink kevlar vests and everything

walrusman posted:

Wouldn't your supervisor consider it fairly unprofessional to comment on something like that in the first place?

walrusman posted:

Wouldn't your supervisor consider it fairly unprofessional to comment on something like that in the first place?

yeah I eat rear end posted:

"There's definitely some craftmanship in this sign" - a supposed art dealer, about a piece of cardboard with yellow paint letters on it. Right.

Ein cooler Typ posted:

Zipperelli. posted:

Spent a lot of time in a courtroom.

I can absolutely believe this.

Melissa McEwan posted:

That Time I Saw a Girl with a Broken Heart Destroy the Man Who Broke It

Not long ago, Iain and I were dining out at a local franchise of a regional chain. It's one of those places with big screen televisions for major sporting events and a decent reasonably-priced menu and slightly dated music playing slightly too loudly.

Everything sort of fades into the background there. I've been in the place a dozen times and couldn't tell you what color the walls are. But the waitstaff is friendly, the bathroom is clean, and the fries are killer, so the fact that everything else is suitable enough to be unnoticeable is fine. That is, in fact, the whole point. Remember what's good; forget the rest.

Anyway. This particular day, we were there at an odd time. It was past lunch but too early for dinner. The place was mostly empty. We were eating and chatting, when suddenly the background penetrated my consciousness. I stopped in the middle of my sentence; Iain looked at me and I pointed upwards. Listen to the music. He let the music come into his consciousness, too, and we both began to laugh.

Because what was playing slightly too loudly was 20 Fingers and Gillette's "(Don't Wanna) Short Dick Man."

It was the censored version, in which the lyrics are "Don't wanna a short, short man," but Iain and I were both alive — and spending some amount of time in dance clubs — in the '90s, so we knew the song. And probably would have figured it out even if we didn't, heh.

"I don't think this is a track on the corporate playlist," I said.

"No," Iain agreed, laughing.

I craned my neck to look over the row of banquets in which we were seated, toward the kitchen. Two young women, one of whom was our server, were huddled together. One was leaning forward, her shoulders curled in, smothering a laugh into her hands, cupped in front of her face. The other stood with her back so straight she looked regal, one eyebrow raised, her chin resting on a shoulder so she could just see the bar out of the corner of her eye, though her back remained turned to it.

At the bar, a young man glared at her with a curled lip. He turned on a heel, tossing a hand towel onto his shoulder, and disappeared. A moment later, the track stopped and a new track started: New Found Glory's "My Friends Over You."

I had never heard this track before, but it was easy to find when I searched its lyrics: You were everything I wanted / But I just can't finish what I've started / There's no room left here on my back / It was damaged long ago / Though you swear that you are true / I still pick my friends over you / My friends over you...

"I don't think she cares, my dude," Iain said, to me.

"Round One to her," I said. We clinked glasses.

The track played its duration, and I thought for a moment that might have been it for the musical duel. But then. THEN.

The coup de grâce.

There was a moment of silence, and then came the voice of Kelly Clarkson, singing "I Don't Think About You."

And now that we are through / Nothing left to lose / I don't think about you.

I mimed dropping the mic.

"drat," Iain said.

The track ended. The audio returned to the preselected collection of inoffensive pop songs.

Maybe a manager came in. Maybe the barback knew he'd been owned beyond hope. Maybe he was too busy crying in the bathroom, because he knew he'd blown it with a deeply clever girl who'd obviously cared about him hard enough that he could break her heart.

Iain and I went back to our meal and our conversation, and the music faded into the background again.

Jurgan posted:

Shakesville is a blog that used to be a significant part of online feminism, but has increasingly become a way for one narcissist to cling to dwindling relevance while bilking her loyal fans for money. Anyway, here's some STDH:

DariusLikewise posted:

This should be a tumblr post with 18 "LMAO THAT'S CRAZY" replies

burial posted:

“Very grateful” is such an exaggeration in this case. Everybody knows vampires have access to wealth.

TheMostFrench posted:

It would be more like 'disgusting loving peasant nearly touched me, I suppose I should be thankful they released me from their squalor.'

Zipperelli. posted:

What a dumbass story. How would she know who was playing the music? How would she know about the previous relationship between the barback and server? How has she never heard of NFG? They were loving ubiquitous in the early 2000s. Even if you didn't know their name, you've heard their songs.

The entirety of this STDH is "we had lunch, the staff messed around with the music."

Completely pointless.

Comptroll The Forums posted:

Vampires can only come inside if you invite them in, so how did it get there in the first place? Yeah, just busted a big hole in your story, don't take it too personal kid.

Zipperelli. posted:

What a dumbass story. How would she know who was playing the music? How would she know about the previous relationship between the barback and server? How has she never heard of NFG? They were loving ubiquitous in the early 2000s. Even if you didn't know their name, you've heard their songs.

The entirety of this STDH is "we had lunch, the staff messed around with the music."

Completely pointless.

Haifisch posted:

Ripped from imgur's front page. (Not linking each image because there's 13 of them and )

I assume that 99% of text convo screencaps are fake, but this one goes way too long for even plausible deniability.

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

Uhh they looked at each other, people don't look at each other unless they have a tumultuous sexual history together.

Also every Kelly Clarkson song I have heard is basically "I'm TOTALLY Over You, You Giant loving rear end in a top hat, I Mean It This Time (I'm Not Actually Over You)", like an all-American talent show version of Adele. Not really what I'd associate with being "owned beyond hope".

“Melissa McEwen” posted:

It is no secret that I love shoes. It is also no secret that I am cheap AF. The combination of these two qualities meant that I spent many, many years drooling over Fluevog shoes and never buying any, even on the rare occasions when I had the money to splurge on expensive shoes.

But then their Bardot pump in blue and gold dropped into the double-digits because they were almost sold out — and they still had some in my size. Which never happens!

So I snapped them up, and now, my friends, I own my very first pair of Fluevogs, and it is everything I hoped it would be! HEART EYES.

Not only are these shoes absolutely beautiful, even dreamier in person than in photos, but they are extraordinarily comfortable. I could stand in and/or walk in these all day.

Last night, Iain and I stopped for a quick bite while we were out, and I happened to be wearing these shoes — which proceeded to cause pandemonium among the waitstaff! The manager actually came to the table to check them out, because he had to see for himself the shoes over which everyone in the kitchen was losing their minds, haha.

I spelled Fluevog at least six times for people who wanted to write it down. If Fluevog is looking for a new part-time influencer to model their shoes in public, CALL ME.

oldpainless posted:

Good fir her

life is killing me posted:

Ok so out of curiosity I looked up Fluevog, as I’ve never heard of Fluevog.

Most of the womens’ shoes on the website are atrocious, ranging from designer versions of Dutch wooden clogs, to basically fancier, leather Crocs, to fancy Birkenstock style sandals that go a little past the ankle with what looks like a thick crepe sole.

The waitstaff were probably laughing their asses off at those ridiculous shoes and they told this guy to come see for himself, which he did, attempting to stifle his own laughter.

life is killing me posted:

Ok so out of curiosity I looked up Fluevog, as I’ve never heard of Fluevog.

Len posted:

These are the things she's bragging about

https://www.fluevog.com/shop/4964-bardot-blue-gold

kimbo305 posted:

Was Shakesville legit at one point? Did the game go to her head and change her? Cuz this is just sad.

kimbo305 posted:

Was Shakesville legit at one point? Did the game go to her head and change her? Cuz this is just sad.

Izzy posted:

Not as far as I know. The only thing "significant" about Shakesville in online feminism circles was Melissa's reputation for batshit insanity and for banning anyone who didn't kiss her rear end enough. The site exists to prop up her ego and very little else.

Len posted:

These are the things she's bragging about

https://www.fluevog.com/shop/4964-bardot-blue-gold

That's certainly a color.

BgRdMchne posted:

Seeing small bart drove me to a mental institution.

Dr. Clockwork posted:

The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of Maggie Simpson.

BgRdMchne posted:

Seeing small bart drove me to a mental institution.

life is killing me posted:

Ok so out of curiosity I looked up Fluevog, as I’ve never heard of Fluevog.

Most of the womens’ shoes on the website are atrocious, ranging from designer versions of Dutch wooden clogs, to basically fancier, leather Crocs, to fancy Birkenstock style sandals that go a little past the ankle with what looks like a thick crepe sole.

The waitstaff were probably laughing their asses off at those ridiculous shoes and they told this guy to come see for himself, which he did, attempting to stifle his own laughter.