Dumb Lowtax posted:

No I get that it belonged in the conversation, I'm just marvelling at how one moment you can be in the middle of a mundane conversation and the next you're in the middle of goon-history-shattering storytime

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

sneakyfrog posted:

i love this stupid place.

Gokuweed420 posted:

An ouroborus of idiots

syscall girl posted:

do you have any thoughts on otters?

FMguru posted:

horrid creatures

NoneMoreNegative posted:

I saw an otter the other day. horrible creatures, I avoid them wherever I can.

Uptime Sinclair posted:

we’re talking about otters, not mirrors

gschmidl posted:

Can't wait for Elon's plan to rebuild Notre Dame with Boring Co. bricks and a submarine.

Platystemon posted:

At least when Elon Musk calls people involved in the reconstruction “pedophiles”, he has some chance of being right.

Sedisp posted:

Lol the fact that sex mods come with a need to jerk while operating the UI prerequisite might unironically lead to a revolution in user friendliness.

jonsicoli posted:

Counterpoint:

(From Skyrim or something, not Starbound)

Rupert Buttermilk posted:

Wow.

Qwopulation.

Neddy Seagoon posted:

Oh, I remember that one. I don't know if there were any actual followup posts, but I've seen a few second/third-hand posts over the years that apparently some of that actually came to pass because she didn't take his advice. Like just straight-up "no, that'll never happen to us!" naysayed it at the time.


It was in a GIP thread relevant to the matter, it wasn't something random. It also had about a page worth of subsequent posts from various people that can be summed up as "for the love of God, listen to this person and heed his advice!"

quote:

Go ask the career development folks at the MPF. Also pimp the TMO folks and ask them.

The final answer comes from one of those two sources. And in the end you have a 50/50 chance of being told the wrong thing anyway.

But you asked for thoughts, and after smoking a bowl and contemplating things, I had a thought I'd like to share with you.

Have you considered not marrying your fiancee?

I can count on one finger the number of guys that were USAF intel officers that I wouldn't line up outside the gas chambers if the fourth reich became a thing.

A few years from now, when you can't even stand to look at him without feeling a sense of extreme hatred and disappointment simultaneous to realizing that at 28 years old you spend 50% of your day thinking about becoming a divorcee, remember this advice: Run the gently caress away now.

Seriously, there is a 100% chance your fiancee is a tool and a loving nitwit. There is a 100% chance that he will be peer pressured into becoming a distilled version of fighter pilot gay bro'ness not by dudes that fly fighter jets, but other sperged out intel retard officers. He's going to start saying things like "Check, Rodge, Vector, Burner" and other associated lame as gently caress things, while also sometimes randomly wearing a flightsuit to work on Fridays despite his only flight time being the fam flight he poo poo his pants or puked his guts up during.

Also he's going to cheat on you. Oh man is he going to cheat on you. And there is a not too bad chance that it won't be with some good looking gal, but rather some dumb bitch enlisted intel girl that almost got a degree in psychology from her podunk state school before she decided she hated the taste of gargling frat sperm and dropped out and joined up to get a chance at being the hottest little twat in a windowless SCIF in Japan.

But don't worry about that breaking your heart, he'll never tell you. You'll be too busy caring for the 3-4 kids he demands you squeeze out in repayment to the base model BMW 3 series he's going to buy you when he gets to his second assignment at Tinker AFB.

When he's not deep dicking some borderline inbred dipshit Airman who's a civilian 5 and intel 12, he'll be lording over you how his job and career come first, and pray he doesn't make more money than you because that'll come up everytime you sigh audibly at the dinner table where you two will passive aggressively try to grind down each others will to live and breathe.

By this point as a captain he's going to be TDY 1-2 months a year, where he's getting half assed hand jobs from third tier strippers on excursions with the least socially inept enlisted guys in his flight-- this is probably the point where his raging alcoholism will be so clear and obvious to you that you two will start fighting every saturday before kick off when his colleges football team inevitably will take a beating. This fight won't stop until his next TDY when the sweet release of his toothless stripper infidelities and lack of home presence gives you time to bust out your big giant purple *BZZZZZ* friend whenever those walking talking pants making GBS threads machines you call children fall asleep long enough to let you deaden the nerves in your clitoris.

Soon after he'll take his third assignment, the one right before he pins on Major, and suddenly he'll be pressuring you into becoming a fundamentalist christian, and he'll delete all of his whores off of his facebook account and spend his home time posting image macros about 2nd amendment rights, and how jesus spoke english in the bible so these loving mexicans should too. At this point you two will be consigned to bi-annual loving, and only when you've drank enough cheap boxed wind to be able to stand the idea of him pounding away on you missionary style but still refusing to look you in the eyes.

This will also be the point when your oldest childs ADHD and pyromania are diagnosed, and one of your parents die. There is around a 85% chance one of you is going to be eating zoloft and klonopin out of loving pez dispensers, and waking up angry that the sweet release of death hasn't taken one of you out of this loveless hosed up marriage.

Somewhere in here the idea of swinging is going to come up casually as an almost joke when you are both in the blissful release of a nice drunken buzz, and one of you will actually be very open and interested in the idea. The other is going to wind up being an unhappy accomplice wondering why your partner wants to gently caress almost chubby guys with spray on tans, or watch the sacred hole through which your children came into this world be filled with all manner of different ethnicities of cock.

I'm late to bring this up, but sooner rather than later you're also going to screen positive for HPV, and your intel officer husband is going to take every bit of research skills he has from his job to convince you that you got it from donating blood or sitting on a toilet seat.

You didn't get it from the Red Cross or a trip to the shitter.

As it stands now though, you can walk the gently caress away and enjoy a life that I'm pretty sure would be better than the above. And you'll never have to see the inside of an officers wives meeting which is a lovecraftian hell that makes my description of your future seem like Charlie's trip through the chocolate factory.

Gumbel2Gumbel posted:

They married and OP was complaining sometime down the road about their husband who turned into exactly that.

The original question btw was some typical young dumbass question about getting married for benefits or so they could deploy together WAY too early in the relationship

Karate Bastard posted:

"deploy"?

Dr. VooDoo posted:

As the curly toe tipped brown shoe slammed it to ground and pressed down on it's stomach, the Rabbid knew it hosed up. Waluigi towered over up into the air, his head silhouetted by the sun blotting out any expression for the Rabbid to try to read that once comical mustache's sharp point now looking sinister against the bright sky. The rabbid didn't need to see Waluigi's face, however, to know his intent.

Held within one cruel long finger gloved hand sat the chrome of a .45 revolver. The sun made it gleam in such a way it seemed to produce the light itself as if to highlight ever curve of it's deadly shape. The Rabbid had been warned not to give him a gun. The words "Don't give Waluigi a loving gun" now seemed to be screaming in it's head but it couldn't react. All it could do was watch as that other gnarled gangly hand took a single bullet and loaded it into one of six chambers of the gun before a lazy flick of those same gnarled gloved fingers sent it spinning like a roulette wheel.

As the muzzle of the gun was leveled inches from it's head the Rabbid heard Waluigi bend down first before actually seeing him do so. It was a terrible sound, like dead branches slowly being crushed under the trod of a decayed monstrosity. Once that horribly enlongated form was bent close it could feel Waluigi's breath on one of it's ears. It was a hot, moist feverish sensastion like a gangrenous infected limb had clasped a half dead hand around it's ear. Then came the only word Waluigi would say before pulling the trigger

"Waa"

Click. The chamber was empty. Again the same lazy flick of those horrible fingers sent the chamber spinning. The barrel was once again leveled at the center of the Rabbid's head...

"Waa"

Mega64 posted:

Don't give Waluigi a loving gun.

Karate Bastard posted:

Ah, I thought they meant like ~"deploy"~ if you know what i mean

Duodecimal posted:

BOOTY-ADE posted:

De ploy was she wanted de benefits

Segmentation Fox posted:

I'm looking for a quote and also context. Something about a kid being all, "I'm in trouble please don't quote Dragula" and his parents doing that.

I feel like the actual context can't possibly add much to it but it'd be nice to know.

The Golden Man posted:

me: mom i think i may be in trouble for getting $1300 in american money on a donation website by saying I have leukemia please dont sing dragula
mom: dead i am the one
me, sobbing: please please i got a phone call from the canada revenus agency
my dad via speakerphone: conquering the worm

The Golden Man posted:

me: mom i think i may be in trouble for getting $1300 in american money on a donation website by saying I have leukemia please dont sing dragula
mom: dead i am the one
me, sobbing: please please i got a phone call from the canada revenus agency
my dad via speakerphone: conquering the worm

Malachite_Dragon posted:

yeah no I tried but I don't have the requisite brainworms to make sense of anything in FYAD, explain it to me in plain English please.

Malachite_Dragon posted:

yeah no I tried but I don't have the requisite brainworms to make sense of anything in FYAD, explain it to me in plain English please.

Malachite_Dragon posted:

yeah no I tried but I don't have the requisite brainworms to make sense of anything in FYAD, explain it to me in plain English please.

Dumb Lowtax posted:

It does, trust me

It's only on Page 2 so starting at the first post is worth it

quote:

Me, slowly opening the door to my dads den: dad I bought Japanese blue jeans again because of my anxiety
Dad: we hell the dowgs cuh fine her they got time time a wait fuh toma-how
My mom yelling from upstairs: tuh fine her tuh fine her tuh fine heheher