|
My mom worked with the SPED kids when I was in middle school. These kids were all teenagers, and the most developed of them could use a keypad attached to his wheelchair to indicate when he needed something (pictures of food, water, diaper, etc). All of them couldn't speak, wore diapers, and were in wheelchairs. I remember Erin, who was silent, who had a large forehead, but didn't ever throw fits. There was clearly something going on behind her eyes, because if you sat and talked with her, she'd take your hand and press it to her face, and she did make eye contact. Then there was Jennifer, who had absolutely nothing behind her eyes: ever seen that video on Youtube where there's an Indian kid in the advanced stage of rabies? Screaming, frothing at the mouth? That was her. She was one of the larger kids in the group and screamed like a howler monkey all the drat time. Then there was Maggie, who was being abused in her foster home (if you raised your hand near her, she'd cower in her wheelchair and start crying and whimpering, like a beaten dog) but was more like Erin: she'd smile, she'd laugh, she'd try to hug you with these withered, tiny arms. The first WTC moment about my mom's job wasn't when she told me about changing diapers. Obviously if these kids were in wheelchairs and nearly all of them were paralyzed, then diapers were needed. What made me gag was her description of dealing with the girls when they had their periods. Because they all did. And they were synchronized together, so once a month or so, every girl needed an extra half hour or so for diaper cleanup. It had never, ever occurred to me that they wouldn't be on some kind of pill to stop menstruation. Then the thought came if they could get pregnant. My mom said it was possible. She also said in the past, employees had been fired for such things. There's a lot of poo poo that makes me wonder if Hell is really on Earth. People raping kids is one. People raping someone like Jennifer is another.
|
#
¿
Apr 11, 2011 20:35
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ May 22, 2024 06:35 |
|
|
I got bullied on and off in middle school by girls who had been my friends, amazingly enough, just a few years prior. I have no idea what set it off, but whispers and laughs of 'she's a lesbian!' which was at the time the worst thing anyone could call you, became common. Taking pencils, generally being verbally abusive. And at one point they kicked my lunchbox around, and apparently that helped ice it. Because the next day I was sitting, as usual, alone for lunch, and one of the girls came up to take my lunchbox. Instead of doing the screaming thing, I went the other route: for some reason I growled. Loudly. Like rabid dog growling, and she nearly tripped herself backing away. I never touched her. But rumors went wild and they followed me through the second year of high school, mostly because I helped them along with little lies that I never got a rabies shot, and kids being kids thought that was a standard vaccination. I never ran around on all fours or wore wolf ears, but I did start growling or making snarling sounds to keep up the crazy meter. I had Dobermans at home, it was easy to mimic their sounds. People don't pick on the crazy kid. Especially when the crazy kid said she'll bite off your ears and eat your eyes like grapes. Kids even signed my yearbook greeting me as Psycho. But I was never picked on again.
|
|
#
¿
Sep 28, 2011 01:19
|
|
|
Some time ago my mom was dating a guy named Mike. And Mike was a generally cool guy. They had been together for a few years when I came out to my mom, and she told Mike later on. Nothing more was said until a few days or weeks later when I'm off to class and Mike and Mom are watching TV. And Mike asks, out of the blue, how two women have sex. While I stood there trying to think how to answer that, he asked, "How can it feel good, without a penis?" My mind pretty much stopped there and he repeated the question a few times before I said I had to go to class and left. Ordinarily this wouldn't have phased me but it was the first time he had said anything remotely sexual to me and he wanted real details as to how sex could feel good without a penis involved.
|
|
#
¿
Oct 12, 2011 02:59
|
|
|
After my mom and Mike broke up I found out in pretty gross detail that no, he didn't know about oral sex unless it was on him and pretty much everything was missionary. For a guy who started to joke about me needing to walk around the house naked rather than in a robe, it was pretty pretty WTC. I've never had problems with bisexual ladies, unless we count the myriad craigslist ads where the lady posts that she needs a woman's touch and her husband/boyfriend is super understanding. That is well and fine, but I don't plan to date your husband/boyfriend and I don't care if he is understanding: you seeking an open fuckbuddy is not on par with me seeking a girlfriend. I never did explain much more to Mike. I think his head would have exploded. On similar lines, at work recently a male coworker of mine was bemoaning that his daughter was now 16 and she wanted to go out at night and go to teenage clubs and boo loving hoo. I asked him if he'd be so upset if his kid was a boy, and he looked at me, shocked. gently caress no, Cowslips, if I had had a son, I'd have given him the Costco sized box of Trojans at 13 and told him to get busy! Last lesbian thing, but my first girlfriend was visiting me and my mom, and she noticed my mom's new turquoise ring that she was super happy with. Girlfriend then proceeded to call the ring garbage and trash and in that smiling nice mocking way ridiculed every piece of jewelry she was wearing as a cheap tourist thing rather than the real gems they sell in high end areas of town. I was at such a loss for words, and my mom was pretty shocked at the utter bluntness of "wow, that ring looks like poo poo." Who the gently caress says that when you're a guest in someone's house?
|
|
#
¿
Oct 13, 2011 02:05
|
|
|
Stairs wins the loving thread.
|
|
#
¿
Oct 14, 2011 01:53
|
|
|
Kuros posted:I assume the general mentality is "There's no penis involved, so it doesn't count." And we come full circle back to Mike's comment that started this all! Holy poo poo penis. Got one from the other day. I used to be friends with a girl named Shendew and we kept contact online for some time. She disappeared for a few years, and when she came back, she was happy to tell me she had met a guy and was pregnant. Well, that's cool and fine and...she disappears again for a few more years. When she emails me again, she's on kid number 2 and apparently went nuts, thinking that I was stalking her and wanted to steal her from her husband. He got in on it as well, defensive to the extreme and yelling how Shendew was his and I would never be with her, and I was very relieved when they disappeared again. Note: I had never ever indicated I was remotely interested in this girl. And as before she emailed me out of the blue, saying she was getting a divorce, had come out as bi, had lost custody of her two sons, but had just had her third, and was trying to get a divorce while her girlfriend supported her. Two or three years pass and I get an email yesterday from her ex-husband, for some reason informing me that they are divorced, he has all three kids, and things are going great. ....maybe that was his way of blessing me being with his psycho ex? Or he is under the assumption I've been puppetmastering their entire marriage to get with her.
|
|
#
¿
Oct 15, 2011 00:49
|
|
|
Exactly what part of the head does he gently caress? The mouth? The throat? You need to find this guy again and get us some answers! Oh, does the gender of the pig matter?
|
|
#
¿
Oct 29, 2011 03:52
|
|
|
I used to be Internet friends with a lady named Cecilia who had a pet octopus. This was the highest honor of fishkeeping to a teenager Cowslips. And then I lost contact with her, put her out of mind, and then poked around our old fish forum to see where she was. It was clearly a hushed topic, but an admin told me that she was in prison for attempted murder. Apparently she had not taken a breakup well, tracked down her ex, and shot his new wife in the stomach. She was pregnant. The baby and mom both survived, and Cecilia is in prison maintaining her innocence.
|
|
#
¿
Jan 18, 2012 05:35
|
|
|
The straw that broke the camel's back between my mom and her ex-boyfriend included a toilet scrub brush and a colostomy bag. When poo poo went down, I was thinking of moving back home, and my mom called up in near hysterics to tell me that her live-in boyfriend Mike was in the hospital. But it wasn't crying hysterics. She was livid. From what I gathered later, Mike had been having some bad diet issues. Pretty much he refused to eat anything that wasn't deep fried and never ate veges. So when he got constipated, no one was surprised. He didn't want to risk the horror of an enema, so one night, after a bad fight between the two, he went to the bathroom and did the straining to poo poo half hour. About an hour after he went to the bathroom, my mom heard him yelling for her to help him, but to NOT call an ambulance. Apparently Mike had a great idea. If he could break up the poo poo stuck in his rear end, then smaller pieces could come out. Brilliant, right? But no real man touches a man's rear end. So he picked up the only long handled thing in the bathroom, which was the toilet scrubber brush. And proceeded to jam the handle end up his rear end. The issue came when, well, there was a little clip area at the very end of the brush, for you to hang it on a nail or something. And it was this part that got wrapped around inside him, and when he tried to pull it out, he ripped himself open, and the scrubber got stuck. An ambulance had to be called because he was stuck in a bent over position, with the stench of rotten poo poo everywhere. To this day I imagine the ambulance attendants just laughed and figured it was some kinda sex game that went wrong. Mike ended up with a colostomy bag while his insides healed. Denial is a powerful force. He told his friends he had the bag because he had torn some muscles when trying to take a poo poo. They believed him. His coworkers believed him. Everyone believed him, save for my mom and the doctors, to the point if you ask him today about the scrub brush, he has no idea how that figures into any of the story. Bonus points for the hospital asking my mom if she wanted the scrubber back. Extra bonus points for Mike changing his shitbag, and leaving the filthy used ones IN THE loving KITCHEN GARBAGE CAN.
|
|
#
¿
Mar 30, 2012 05:11
|
|
|
NerdyNautilusGirl posted:When I was 15 or so I was woken up by my mom throwing open my bedroom door, tears streaming down her face and looking devastated. I groggily asked what was wrong and was told that my abusive dad was outside with a lawyer and that he had gotten custody of me. I start hyperventilating and crying and I'm so loving scared, when my mom grins this huge poo poo eating grin and says "april fools!" Your mom's crazy. My ex-stepdad did something similar save it wasn't April. He and my mom and I were at a car dealership and had been for hours trying to find a new car for me, since my old one refused to start, and I had to work all weekend and they were going out of town so couldn't give me any rides. We had been there probably close to 7 hours, and every hour or so the salesguy would say we weren't approved for car X, so we'd go back to the lot, pick one out, drive it around, and repeat cycle. So needless to say morale was low and I was ready to go home. My stepdad announced, out of the blue, that we would be moving some 80 miles north of our home city, because he found some awesome land and we'd have a cabin, and he could go hunting all the time since this was prime forest land. Me in an already weary state, burst into tears, part in disbelief and part in rage because seriously, loving hunting was the reason I would have to leave school and lose both my jobs and what the gently caress would we do with our outside pets that needed warmer weather? He didn't realize that this joke wasn't funny, especially when he kept playing it up that I would totally love it, and I could get a job at Arby's or something, and if I really really wanted to stay in the college I was in, I'd just have to move out and stay in some lovely apartment. The car dealership guys suddenly stopped the hourly deal to see if I was all right, and only then did they suddenly find some way to approve the car loan. My stepdad waited until then to tell me he was joking and I was a selfish bitch for overreacting. He didn't quite understand why I was so upset and pissed and wouldn't talk to me for a week after. Hey stepdad, just so you know for the future, telling a teenager that she's going to be homeless in a week or she has to quit her jobs and lose her scholarship and follow you to hillbilly creek to live when she's already stressed out is a bad loving idea. Then again this is the same guy who kept asking me to walk around the house naked or partially clothed, and who couldn't understand me being a lesbian because 'how can it feel good, without a penis?'
|
|
#
¿
Aug 10, 2012 01:39
|
|
|
If it makes it sound less creepy I was legally an adult. Then again the fucker also told me not to kiss his cheek but his mouth. Yeah. That didn't last long. Thankfully he's an ex-stepdad now. Aha, here, a funny one. Not in a 'oh god someone call CPS' funny. I used to work at a privately owned zoo as a part-time zookeeper, and when a fulltime position of food prep/janitor came up, I jumped at the chance for more hours. Janitor was an overnight position and I started about 2am, driving around the zoo in a lovely old pickup truck to clean the bathrooms and not get shot by any thieves. Because we had plenty of those. But the story goes, I drive maybe 5 miles a hour max, because there are no loving lights save for the old cracked headlights and it is loving dark. So I'm turning around a corner, I see something in the dirt road, and figure if it's a duck or free-roaming peacock, it'll move. The drat loose birds know what trucks are. He didn't move. I heard a thump, the wheels bounced, and I hit the brakes in shock. I'd rolled a bit away and after parking the truck, ran back to the body. Oh gently caress. Oh gently caress. OH gently caress I RAN OVER A PEACOCK HOLY poo poo THEY ARE GONNA FIRE ME. But then deviousness crept to my mind. It's 3am, Cowslips, you goddamn moron, calm down. NO ONE else is on grounds. NO ONE will know. Grab the body and throw it in the trash! But what if someone finds the body in the dump covered in trash and holy poo poo they run fingerprints and I'm on it! Then wear gloves! No no where the gently caress do I get gloves at 3am! Okay fine, leave the goddamn bird and tell the owner you loving killed it! Oh God oh God I'm gonna get fired for killing a peacoooooooooooock!  The internal fight ran for a while, and then I realized I had to get back to work. And to preserve the scene, I left the body where it was, drove to the food prep area, and did the rest of the work because the other animals had to eat. The entire time I was torn between crying and writing a resignation letter because I knew I'd be fired. I only had to wait till 7am for other people to come on grounds. And when I stepped out to do the trash run...the body was gone. No peacock. There were tire marks all over the place but no blood. And no peacock. I decided the best thing to do was to pretend nothing ever happened. Smart me. And later on, so petrified someone would drag me aside and hiss that they knew I killed the peacock, I saw another keeper with a huge stack of peacock feathers. Like over twenty of them, all over three feet long. I asked where she'd gotten all the drat nice feathers. "Oh, some peacock died a few days ago. Since I found him, I got to keep what I plucked and the rest got thrown in the dump. Peacocks die, it's no big deal. Some of the other keepers keep asking for some feathers but gently caress em, I found them first." I don't know if the WTC moment was more that there was no investigation into the death...or my realization that I could have had an entire armful of full feathers and bought a ton of friends with them.
|
|
#
¿
Aug 12, 2012 09:54
|
|
|
|
| # ¿ May 22, 2024 06:35 |
|
|
Along the lines of furries, when I was working in a call center, one of my coworkers, a scrawny ginger lookalike for Shaggy legally changed his name to Inu Dogpaws. Since our opening script included our first name, he would force in his entire name and then explain yes, that was his real name, yes, he was not born with it. He would wear plush dog ears, a tail, and dog paw slippers every day he could sneak them in. He got his roommate a job there; she was a very butch lesbian, but Inu Dogpaws assured me he was also her puppy. As in she would come over to his cubicle and yell "BARK LIKE A PUPPY!" and he would bark and whimper like a beaten dog. He made some hint that his pet dog was his girlfriend. About that time our center was outsourced. Thankfully I didn't get any more details.
|
|
#
¿
Dec 28, 2013 03:32
|
|