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loving umbrellas. It rains all the loving time in Scotland, our pavements are narrow and I'm tall. My entire life is an obstacle course of dodging loving idiot women with their stupid loving umbrellas as they weave aimlessly around because heaven loving forbid you get even the slightest bit wet ya fuckin' daft oval office. One time a woman drew blood. I threw her umbrella in the river in a fit of temper. Fucker. Also motherfuckers who talk with their mouth full. Swallow then talk. My own darling mother isn't speaking to me [3 weeks now] because she actually loving phoned me - she phoned me - and jammed a toffee in her ever flopping mucus-lined chew-sac before emitting a series of wet slorping noises directly into my ear, and apparently I'm the rear end in a top hat for hanging up? Bitch no. You're going in the bad home. With the nurses that nip and the heating turned off. Also on t'Internet when you have a fight between old school dudes using old school weapons, and then some cuntbag goes "Oh that totally wouldn't be how that swordfight would go because I am a member of the Society for Preservation of Autism in Swordfights and I totally read the wikipedia page on Hochmeister Liechtenauer once and blah blah blah blah blah" and then they invariably link to: a) The swordfight from the end of Rob Roy. b) The swordfight from The Duellists. c) The ending fight from Roman Polanski's loving terrible version of MacBeth. And it's like motherfucker, no. No. Unless you have an actual time machine and actually went back to Ye Olde Times and watched some melees you dunno poo poo, and furthermore, nobody loving cares.
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Mar 7, 2015 14:44
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Crow Jane posted:If this is actually a thing, it's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard. My auntie does this. She has one of those picture frames that's, like, a bunch of tiny picture frames stuck together, and all but one of the 16 photos are people she actually knows or is related to. The last is the one that came with the frame, and she takes great delight in seeing what the most outrageous lie she can tell people about it is. My auntie is weird. ANyway, you know what's really annoying? When people are getting out of the way of a car/forklift/shopping trolley/angry bull and they do that weird little hop-jog that isn't actually any faster than just walking normally. Bonus points if they stop their hop-jog so that they're still in front of your loving car. I swear, the final day before my taxi badge expires will see the streets of Perth run red with the blood of the hopjoggers. Hopjoggers will be a racial slur in 2017. BOOK IT.
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Apr 30, 2015 11:42
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I drive a taxi. I get on with most people. It's a mellow kinda job. There's been some odd incidents - a dude died, a woman gave birth, a guy pointed a shotgun at me, I got punched in the face by a guy who thought I'd kidnapped his daughter - but by and large everyone is nice and chill and the job's okay and the money'll be fine for the 2 years until I get my degree and Uber destroys everything. I can listen to my music, read books in between fares, all is smoov. There's a certain kind of person, though, so ubiquitous and common that I think there's a factory in the Gorbals stamping them out. An archetypal bampot who's a total loving pain in the arse and never fails to annoy me. Always, without exception, dudes from Glasgow in their late middle age, who have gotten rich off of some kind of trade skill - usually joinery - and are thoroughly convinced that they are witty when actually they're just rude cunts. I mean, everyone from Glasgow thinks they're witty, Billy Connolly managing to spin money from poo poo pub anecdotes has hoodwinked the lot of them, but these guys in particular are swinging and missing. They are always kinda leathery and reddened, square-sausage complexion and immaculate clothes, with cobalt blue eyes and spikey receding white hair and too much cologne. I swear, I can smell one of these fuckers coming a mile away, and tell you what they're going to say before they say it. They'll get in and name some super faraway location and go HA JUST JOKIN' MATE PURE GOT YIR HOPES UP THERE EH. You switch the meter on and they go HA FIVER FOR CASH MATE HA HA. When you get there they'll always go NOW WHAT KIND OF DEAL YE GONNAE DAE ME HA HA. They always have a slightly beaten-down wife with them, and make caustic jokes at her expense. Invariably the wife has a never-named "yir fucken sister", who is given pelters. They'll always ask for my personal phone number "So's ah kind git a taxi when ah come back", and then get snitty when I'm not willing to work an extra 8 hours just to babysit him. Invariably they'll start going on about the Rangers Newco, cause they're always the most toxic kind of bigot. If anyone else makes a joke their little faces will purse in disapproval, and they'll pause and go "Eh, no" because being funny in the presence of The Weegie Alpha is offensive somehow. If anything doesn't go their way, the battle cry is always "Hi mate your attitude's fucken stinkin...ah ken yir boss". So yeah, a weird one. gently caress those dudes. Is there a name for when you get, like, the same kind of person repeated over and over, like some grotesque real-life palate swap?
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Aug 7, 2015 13:03
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grittyreboot posted:How did that happen?! This actually happened on my first shift as a taxi driver. Late at night, bunch of youngsters out on the piss. One of them, a young girl, falls asleep in the cab. Her friends pay the taxi, and gently caress off. I stop them, all "Hey what about your friend, here?", they go "Oh gently caress her, just throw her out, she's a pain in the arse anyway" and then run off giggling. Some friends, huh? So, unsure as to what to do at 3am with a comatose scantily clad girl - and the police all busy sorting out the weekly 3am riot as the nightclubs discharge - I go into her purse, get her I.D and take her to her house. Which, as it turns out, is a super fancy pseudo-mansion on the outskirts of town. So I'm carrying her along the big fancy rear end gravel path to her house, when the door explodes open and a huge, very angry, very bald man comes barreling out, screaming incoherently about how I should be ashamed of myself and she's half my age, and then punches me in my big stupid face. For the record, I look kind of like Sasquatch, if Sasquatch was a rapist from the 1970s. So I drop the slumbering girly girl, stagger back a few steps and put up my fists, determined to prevent further punches from hitting my stupid face, and he advances on me, and then suddenly the door explodes open again and his very small, very feisty wife comes rocketing out and starts haranguing him about how it's obviously a TAXI DRIVER you IDIOT look he has a TAXI and anyway her boyfriend's blonde and shorter why would a kidnapper bring her back here et cetera et cetera and basically henpecks the poor fucker back into the house. Anyway, she brings me in for a cup of tea and is very grateful at the return of her daughter - turns out she's some kind of wild child who'd fallen in for an older dude who seemed to be trying to wangle in on her folk's money, who had hosed off with her a week before and they'd been worried sick. Anger Dad just assumed the worst. No harm done, I have a resilient face.
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Aug 8, 2015 19:50
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AlphaKretin posted:Come on guys it was supposed to be a humorous exaggeration about exactly how much I get ignored. Sorry for wanting to make my post more interesting than the first two words. Maybe people ignore you cause when you finally get attention you turn into a weenie.
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Nov 1, 2015 15:32
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First thing my mind jumps to because, I don't know, this is a forum with lots of people that plays video games and I might have just come from a thread about one != only frame of reference.
You Are A Elf posted:I drink water from an empty reusable bottle of VOSS for work because the bottle is a good thick glass glass that's the perfect size for the cup holders in my car and the company vehicle I drive. Plus, something about drinking water from a glass bottle instead of a plastic one makes the water taste better (had a plastic bottle before that I could not get rid of that funky smell from mouth bacteria no matter how clean I got it that made the water gross to drink). Only cost me $2.50 at Walmart for the bottle, which I thought was a pretty good deal for a sturdy water bottle I could reuse. The water wasn't half-bad, either, but water's water to me, be it bottled, filtered, or tap. Ladies and gentlemen: The most boring thing on the Internet.
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Feb 28, 2016 14:46
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I've been known to play a bit of poker of a Sunday evening. Few pints, few wee wagers - it's a civilised way to pass time. Except poker people. gently caress poker people. Poker exists at the intersection of Spergy, Skeezy and Macho, and as such you get a cross sample of the very worst people. Motherfuckers with no hygiene slouching all over everything, getting sauce on the cards. Dudes who wig out when they see a woman and start either turning super chauvinist or crawling up her arse. PRO PLAYAZ who throw childish strops if they lose a hand that They Weren't Supposed To. Big Russian sonsabitches who view every raise as an insult and spend hours staring holes through you on every action. Motherfuckers who can't reign in their ADHD long enough for a hand and hold up action with their compulsive smartphone browsing. Fuckers who are sooooo trying to be blasé that they find basic things like "state actions" or "move chips" to be beneath them. Dudes who be all I WOULD'VE HAD THAT I HAD SEVEN TWO and it's like yeah okay but you weren't in the hand. Nerdy motherfuckers who do that "of course" smirk every time a newbie makes a weird play. Dudes telling you endlessly boring poker stories. Still fun, though. One time a dude threw a sandwich at me. Good times.
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Mar 3, 2016 11:42
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GOTTA STAY FAI posted:Oh my god, the postgame analysis fuckers are the worst Or when a close hand goes against them and then they start interrogating whoever took it. "Would you have folded if I'd bet 2000? How about if I'd checked and bet the river? How about if I'd stared at you a long time? Would you have bet if I'd checked the flop? Did you put me on kings?" et cetera et cetera et cetera forever and ever and ever as if the person they're asking has some sacred duty to assuage their bruised ego.
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Mar 3, 2016 16:42
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I like to play poker every now and again. I have moaned about it before. gently caress everyone who has a smartphone at the table, completely loving the flow of the game, and demanding everything be explained to them once action comes round to them. "Is it on me? What's the blind? Oh it's been raised? By who? And someone reraised? Who, sorry? Oh, them? Oh. Um. Fold." Every. loving. Orbit. I think smartphones might be the point at which I am no longer Down With The Kids and instead go spiralling off into middle-aged oblivion. How loving wrecked is your attention span if playing a game is too taxing on your focus?
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Jul 17, 2016 12:56
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POKER. I will poke the next dude who tells me what they folded in the eye. I don't care. I don't care! It's not that interesting that you folded 9-4 and the flop was 994. That's not interesting!
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Sep 25, 2016 00:15
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Tiggum posted:I don't know what they think such extreme security is necessary for anyway. Who wants to log into my university account? What for? I always figured it was less a security thing, and more a shutting down bullshit thing. Little Timmy or Tina Undergrad wants to claim they got hacked in the hope of getting an extension? Maybe wants to accuse a professor of shenanigans and cause a pain in the rear end investigation? Well gently caress that, make all passwords Pentagon level and take all that nonsense off the table.
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Oct 7, 2016 19:07
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Shayu posted:Something that bothers me are people who are rude to their parents or say terrible things about them. Makes me feel very uncomfortable... A large percentage of the women I've gone out with have had an adversarial relationship with one or both of their parents. This in itself doesn't bother me - I appreciate I had a pretty damned good upbringing and am lucky my parents are such good people - but every one of the aforementioned women seem to view it as some kind of defect that I like my parents and enjoy their company. The highlight being a dope fiend NEET I went out with for a while who went on an hour long tirade every time I took my mum out to lunch. Like, I wanna see how my parents are getting on and have lunch, and somehow this made me a fuckin' sissy nancy boy who should cut the apron strings and grow a set and it's so weiiiiird to be friendly with your parents et cetera et cetera. Because I bought my mum lunch once a fortnight and occasionally went round to help my dad tinker with classic cars and plant his garden. In conclusion:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hkj_MlByXW0 Anyway - poker people. I do not give one solitary poo poo what you would've hit had you stayed in the hand. It's not a gross injustice that someone forced you off the pot and you missed your ridiculous one-outer, it's a core part of the game. And stop throwing loving temper tantrums when the seven on the turn of a hand you folded would've given you a full house - it's information to those still in the hand, and it's some bullshit. gently caress YEAH. Also I will never ever stop check-reraising, so shush.
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Dec 7, 2016 21:28
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I'm just picturing you as Bluehair the Tumblrina now - symbol of STDH.txt, also someone you do not want to upset on Twitter because she has at least 200 followers. (USER WAS PUT ON PROBATION FOR THIS POST)
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Jan 8, 2017 13:43
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Have you considered not going? All that angry can't make for good plasma. It probably tastes like burnt rubber and Red Hots.
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Jan 26, 2017 01:28
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I'm just sayin' man when some little cancer child or femoral artery person gets Fury Plasma and starts administering suplexes to their distraught loved ones that'll be on you.
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Jan 26, 2017 02:10
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So I'm talking to someone. And they don't hear me. "Pardon?", they say. So I now have three options. 1) Repeat it in exactly the same way - same volume, same tempo, same inflection. This will result in the cloth-eared fucker not hearing me again and I get to say the same thing over and over until I eventually can slide, blissfully, into the sweet embrace of death. 2) Repeat it slower and louder, so that I am sure they can hear it. This will result in the cloth-eared fucker assuming I'm angry and getting all defensive. Really, I just want to speak more than one sentence in my life, please be cool. 3) "Never mind". Never works. Cloth-eared fucker will now assume that what I just said was of world-shaking significance, and pursue it forever. I'll be on my deathbed and some hearing aid motherfucker will be shaking my withered frame all "NO BUT TELL ME! I WANT TO KNOW! JUST TELL ME WHAT IT WAS YOU SAID!" it was just a bad pun that doesn't bear repeating please leave me alooooooooooooooooooooooooooone. So yeah, I'm gonna give up on talking to people I think. It's too much like hard work.
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Mar 11, 2017 15:01
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yeah I eat rear end posted:Just say it slightly louder and at the same speed. The people who act like you suddenly can't speak english well and you need to haaaaveee woooords drawwwwn outttt when you ask them to repeat something is really annoying. NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK YOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIM JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUST MAAAAAAAAAAAAKING SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURE
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Mar 11, 2017 15:32
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Wheat Loaf posted:Overhearing other peoples' conversations, but mainly when they only ever talk about the same thing every day. Overhearing other people's conversations, but they keep getting stuff wrong and you can't correct them because you're eavesdropping. Every single time I take the bus. Every. Single. Time.
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Aug 22, 2017 19:26
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Is there anything more irritating than some jackhole ordering you to do the thing you were about to do anyway? Like, seriously. You end up wanting to not do the thing you were going to do anyway, out of spite, and you just know they're like "Ha, I have authority!" and it boils my piss it does. Also, it's started raining a lot here. gently caress umbrellas, gently caress everyone who uses umbrellas, especially gently caress people between five foot and five foot six who use umbrellas.. The UK is awash with tiny wee pavements, and it rains 2/3 of the time, and I am sick of defending my face from spikey umbrellas and having runoff poured onto me.
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Oct 25, 2017 16:12
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So, playing poker. Multi-tiered pot. Multiple players all in, all for varying numbers of chips. Dealer takes maybe 30 seconds to run the numbers in their head. Every time, every loving time someone will start trying to "help", and this "help" will always consist of saying random numbers over and over. "Pot one, sixteen! Pot one sixteen! Pot two thirty!" and it's like motherfucker we've all done sums before, why don't you know that when you're doing mental arithmetic the last loving thing you need is someone saying numbers? So then the dealer loses their place, other people join in, and you end up with six or seven spergs yelling random conflicting numbers because, oh poo poo, it turns out everyone does sums differently in their head, and what could've been 30 seconds of shutting up and letting the dealer handle it becomes 5 minutes of tedious yelling. Every time. Also I have never, literally never, seen a hand of Omaha Hi/Lo played successfully. It always degenerates into yelling over what makes the best low hand, and then you'll get three or four people yelling their "simple explanation" over and over. Fffffuck poker players, man.
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Dec 3, 2017 02:32
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Tarantula posted:This is easily one of the sharper hills to die on.
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Feb 18, 2018 05:12
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Beer cunts can git tae gently caress. Especially American beer cunts. Every pub, this one friend-of-a-friend septic tank bawbag will get snippy because they don't have [whatever kind of beer they don't have]. Bog standard pub? Hnnnnnnnh no IPAs. Place has a shitload of IPAs? Well they don't have any real ale or heavy. Loads of real ale and heavy? Hnnnnnhhhhh I wanted a lager. Wanted a lager? Hnnnnnhhhhhhhh they've only got one porter and there's no stout. Hnnnnnhhhh there's no imports. Hnnnnnnnh they only have my imported chocolate double fermented lactose kelp beer in the bottle, not on draught. One time, in furious desperation, I dragged the wankstain to the absolute wankbammiest pub in the universe. The guy behind the bar was 95% ink, piercings and beard by mass. There was a nineteen page menu, small font, tasting notes, recommended petit plats what is complementary to each beer. The benches were made out of loving upcycled oak planks from a bombed out Belgian brewery, the bar snacks were artisan chilli infused chargrilled halloumi skewers and some kind of chive and tzatziki polenta fusion, and one of the waitresses was loudly telling everyone about this play she's writing, where like, the premise is that the audience supply the dialogue!? "Hnnnnnh I don't like these glasses." He doesn't get invited any more. We can pub crawl freely, knowing if we end up drinking Tennent's we won't have to give some knob an epi pen to bring him back round. And hey, to be fair, dude seems very happy taking taxis to whatever furiously masturbatory pop-up bar/bistro will sell him one beer, which he can then Tweet a photo of before he goes home. So hooray!
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Apr 20, 2018 18:05
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MisterBibs posted:I'd encourage you to reread the title of this thread. Man just pee on them.
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May 24, 2018 14:29
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I am partial to a little bit of musical theatre now and then. Also, like, song and dance shows and ballroom exhibitions and whatnot. What I am less keen on is the inevitable ending gently caress around. A big showstopper finale followed by an encore followed by a medley followed by COME ON EVERYBODY GET UP OUT OF YOUR SEAT AND MAKE SOME NOISE and then you have to clap for twenty minutes for ANOTHER medley where you applaud all the cast and then each of the backing dancers does their little signature move and then everyone in the pit does a little riff on their instrument and then there's another big bow and a curtain call and then the principal gets all Serious and asks for donations to Peruvian Sea Ambulance or some shite, then one last big finale reprise and a couple more bows and it's like ffffffffffffuck off. I'm not dancing in this narrow aisle on legs that went to sleep twenty minutes ago you ballbag, and I'm not slamming my hands to mincemeat trying to keep time to some medley only the orchestra know. Do your bit and piss off. That being said, Wicked was very good.
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Sep 21, 2018 21:02
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I once had a tremendously unpleasant few days where, semi-delirious from gastric flu, I had a recurring nightmare that centred around the Weird Al song My Baby's In Love With Eddie Vedder. Listening to it still makes me feel a bit nauseous. On Topic Edit: "Death threats" is rapidly becoming a new peeve. Some angsty tween jackoff on twitter off handedly remarks he wishes you were dead, suddenly it's a Campaign of Harassment where Your Life Was Threatened and woo boy let's get on that pity train and do a weepy tell-all to whichever blog, news show or magazine needs filler. It's some bullshit, tell ya what. I am going to murder everyone who says they got death threats. Disgusting Coward has a new favorite as of 14:50 on Oct 4, 2018 |
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Oct 4, 2018 14:46
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There is no worse feeling than eavesdropping on someone who is wrong about something. You really want to step in and drop knowledge, but you can't because YOU'D be the rude one, sheesh. Double worse if they're being a real wang about it. Like all arrogant and hostile and incorrect. Fffff.
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Oct 26, 2018 16:39
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I think every single noise in the outside world is about me. You wouldn't believe how much I hate birds.
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Jan 3, 2019 04:25
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Podcasts are a good idea but 95% of them seem to be some mushmouth with That Voice who can't go four words without Uhhhh'ing and then they all do That Laugh.
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Jan 7, 2019 02:14
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You are naked, bleary, slightly hungover, very tired. Your ear is kinda hosed up from the plane - it popped, but only kinda, and now it alternates between dull bass noises and hissing. But, by golly, you're in the hotel, and you're going to enjoy this shower! You turn it on. It emits a feeble dribble of lukewarm water. You wait, but it just continues to dribble. There's a shower unit on the wall.. It has 45 dials, 8 buttons and a hand crank. Invisible to the naked eye, and placed totally at random, are a tiny blue dot, a tiny red dot and a tiny very red dot. You turn a dial. A pipe starts to shake with a rhythmic CHANG CHANG CHANG CHANG CHANG CHANG CHANG. The water remains unchanged. You press a button. A vent near the shower kicks into life, sprays out a couple of spiders, and shoots a jet of cold air up your tuckus. Two doors down, a Chinese man is annoyed that you keep shouting for him. You try another button. The water stops, then starts shooting into your groin from a previously-unnoticed sprinkler system. You spin a dial. The water is now hotter than the surface of the Sun. Lobster pink, and making monkey noises, you dive out of the way and stand, simultaneously burnt and freezing. Thick steam obscures all vents, your glasses are now a dim suggestion in the middle of a ball of condensation. You reach in, contorting yourself furiously to avoid the molten jet, and spin the [wrong] dial. The hot jet of water is now ice cold, inexplicably aimed directly at your genitals, and you turn a rather pleasing shade of blue. You put the dial in the middle, and the water alternates between freezing and molten. Dial #8 increases the water pressure to tooth-loosening levels. Grimacing, your skin dimpled in a good two inches, you twist -something- on the shower head, and now it shoots a fire brigade style jet of rusty water, backwards, onto the shelf, knocking your shaving kit to the floor and staining your toothbrush. In desperation, you push every button and twist every dial, and grit your teeth and endure several contradictory unpleasant sensations simultaneously. You dry off inadequately with your condensation soaked towel, and shuffle back into the room. Your girlfriend, cheery and crisp, goes "oh finally" and goes in to enjoy a perfectly enjoyable 15 minute shower at the perfect temperature, pressure and height. While this happens, Mr. Chang informs you that he does not appreciate having his time wasted. You are me. Congratulations.
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Jan 27, 2019 17:13
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Asking for directions in Britain is a loving nightmare. Everyone either Knows But Can't Express It, or Doesn't Know But Won't loving Leave It. Scenario One "Excuse me mate, do you happen to know where Taintsniff Avenue is?" "Taintsniff Avenue? Oh yeah, you go left, then left, then right at the parked Ford Focus, then keep going until Jimmy's house, it used to be grey pebble dashed but now it's burnt ochre stone cladding, take the second gate there and go about a mile, then there's a kind of house with a sort of half house built on to it? Well if you see that you've gone too far, you'd need to double back until you see a tree that's had a few branches blown off, hang a right there. follow the lane about three miles then there's a kind of bungalow with a white painted fence, and if you turn left there and then keep going until you find the chemists that used to be a pet shop, then a pet shop that used to be a chemist, you're on Taintsniff Avenue". "Uh...cheers" Scenario Two "Excuse me mate, do you happen to know where Taintsniff Avenue is?" "No, I don't, sorry" "Alright, no bother, cheers for your t-" "There's a Taintsniff Gardens over there, could that be it?" "No, I've tried there, it's definitely Av-" "What about just up the road, where there's Taintsniff House?" "No, it's definitely Avenue, it's okay, I've got a phone number, I'll just ring th-" "The Earl of Taintsniff lives in London now, could you be wanting London?" "No, it's okay, I'm dial-" "I used to go to school with a James Taintsniff, should I phone him?" "No it's fi-" "How about James Street? I know where James Street is, wait, what're you doing with that shov-" Like, I get that it's ultimately a well meaning thing, but loving Hell if you don't know just say "Don't know", gently caress's sake.
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Mar 1, 2019 17:44
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My cousin has a humpback whale. The whale is the sweetest girl, she's always ready for some cuddlying or singing. But she's also really big, as whales tend to be. Once we were swimming through some waves and we happened across a family boating trip, and the whale saw the boats, thought "Friends!" and happlily swam off to play with them. The boat ladies were super angry, and rightfully so. We had to explain to my cousin that it doesn't matter if her whale is the sweetest girl in the world, when someone sees a whale that size come swimming towards them, they tend to get nervous. Keep your whales in the briney deeps, please.
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May 12, 2019 21:36
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oldpainless posted:People who post passive aggressive vague comments and refuse to elaborate when asked about them. I’m not going to say which poster does this or what happened but it’s bullshit u ok hun? dm me
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Jun 27, 2019 14:10
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Absolutely nobody in this country can pronounce "ibuprofen".
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Jul 1, 2019 15:54
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Every time my phone rings, I just answer it. Doesn't matter if I recognise the number or not, because I'm not an evasive child, no spook has ever jumped through the phone at me, and if it's someone I don't want to speak to I am capable of steering the call to its conclusion. And I answer it as follows: "Hello [beat] Disgusting Coward speaking" And every single time the person on the other end goes "Ehhhh...who's that?" or "Ehhh...is that Disgusting Coward?" or "Uhhh...hello?" You phoned me, fool. I'm the one who should be caught unawares, not you. Fuckers. As for niceholes, there's a trend in this neck of the woods - East Scotland - of people giving up right of way at roundabouts. The whole Thing of a roundabout is "give way to cars from the right". That's it! One rule! It works really well! But noooo, gotta have some ancient fart in a Skoda stopping dead, being confused by the procedure of "look to see what's coming, and then drive" and then flash me on to the roundabout as a way of buying themselves thinking time. So then I can't go, cause if they go and then hit me I'm at fault, and then something will be waiting on me going so I'll wave on whoever has erroneously yielded their right of way, and then they're still panicking so they wave back, and you end up with 4 idiots in a circle, engaging in dipshit sign language to try to signify that you should just. loving. go. Last time this happened I cut the engine, switched off my lights and got out. Yelled "loving GOOOO" at the guy and he still wouldn't go. It's un loving real.
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Jun 23, 2020 23:03
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Those sport cap water bottles should be a war crime. So many people slurping and suckling on them like idiotic baby calves. While grabbing the bottle a little to hard so it makes that loving crinkley noise. Gitmo forever.
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Jul 23, 2020 14:37
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| # ¿ May 11, 2024 13:35 |
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None of you should ever visit Fife. In fact, nobody should ever visit Fife.
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#
¿
Aug 26, 2020 11:49
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