quote:

This Troper is a skilled player of competitive Pokemon, 75th place on the leaderboard at the time of posting this (out of 14,000+). For those not familiar with the game (or the competitive field of the game), good prediction of your opponent's moves is arguably the most important thing for a competitive battler to have. It's essentially two players of Xanatos Speed Chess. Which is precisely why I routinely make completely erratic and nonsensical moves. Most people either assume that they're facing a Noob or have their sense of prediction completely thrown off by this, allowing me to make the most crucial moves while hiding under a veil of Obfuscating Stupidity. As if that weren't enough, 5 out of my 6 team members are not in the standard tier, which is about as far as most players' knowledge of the individual Pokemon tactics stretches. Literally the only difference between the standard and Borderline tiers is popularity - there are some real gems in Borderline if you look hard enough and know what you're doing.

quote:

This troper has used people so many times he feels guilty about it. One time, I flirted with my bully's girlfriend and then told him she was making moves on me. I actually cited evidence he could see, and they broke up. Another time, I made three visits to my principal highlighting the danger of drugs. I then rolled up some grass in a bit of paper and offered it to a druggie in my English class. He started smoking it in the back of the school, the exact area I warned the Principal to watch. It was too drat easy. And fun. I was actually told by my history teacher my brand of essentially governing one of my classes as second in command basically put me three steps away from real power. And I am currently reaching for that power...Don't worry, I am not about to institute a police state with myself as God. That is far too suspicious. I work in small little steps. The next step in the master plan is becoming adviser of Matt Smith, Vice principal of James Logan High School. Then I can REALLY administer justice. He does not have much of a sense for tact, therefore, he needs me around. First thing I am doing is getting rid of cursing.

quote:

This lurker isn't one, but his friend is. As an example, he once managed to cause three break ups (all of unhappy relationships, although no one else picked up on the clues but him), shame a rival in front of the whole year, get a girl to go out with him and bring down a perverted teacher with the same gambit.

Pieces of Peace posted:

Meanwhile a $3 bill is basically the proverbial scam of the early 20th century so... maybe STDH people should stop being such dicks about managers getting them confused.

Khazar-khum posted:

Pokemon

RareAcumen posted:

Screaming Idiot posted:

So I died and went to heaven, right? And then I met God, like, YHVH God with a capital G, and He was actually a She with Really Bang-rear end Titties, and She invited me to Her Bedroom with all her Xboxes and Playstations and other cool stuff and we played games and then I banged Her until She gave birth to a New Universe and now I'm a God too complete with Really Bang-rear end Titties and then this Sexy Hot-rear end Stud died and came to visit me and I invitied him to my Bedroom with all my Xboxes and Playstations and other cool stuff to play games and maybe bang Me a bit

CROWS EVERYWHERE posted:

I like to call them "teeaboos".

RenegadeStyle1 posted:

Yeah $2 bills are pretty uncommon but i'm sure most people know of them. Then again I haven't really seen or heard about them in probably 10-15 years.

Navik posted:

To be fair, I think part of the problem with the bills was also that they were sequentially numbered?

Navik posted:

You'd think this but I recall a news article from a couple years ago where a guy attempted to use them at a Best Buy and ended up handcuffed for hours until some federal official showed up and confirmed that they were, indeed, actual legit currency. If I remember right the reason the dude had so many was that he had something to do with running tours for foreign tourists who liked the novelty of the things.

To be fair, I think part of the problem with the bills was also that they were sequentially numbered?

quote:

This Troper was walking home at one point (waay back in high school) when I saw a girl I vaguely knew and had a massive unrequited crush on (she was a bit older than me, different school, and generally not in my circle) walking somewhere with a guy who was dropping a Cluster F Bomb at her, grabbing her and pushing her every few steps; she was trying to walk away, and he was yelling at her to slow down. I went up and started walking in their vague vicinity, asked "what's going on" and the guy ignored me to launch another cussword. When he pushed her, I told him to cut it out, and he told me to mind my own business. 'course, I didn't; instead, as we were going up a hill, and she was a bit ahead of him, I stepped right in between them and told the guy to back off. He said, "you do not want to square off with me," and I said, "No, I don't. But you are going to stop hitting girls." He gave some vague denials about "I never hit girls," and meanwhile the girl (I kind of kept a back-of-the-head glance behind me) slipped behind a rosebush into someone's yard. I just calmly stepped aside and the guy went right up the hill, missing her entirely. I met her later; she was breathing heavily and sobbing a bit, and I just gave her a hug for a few minutes. I wanted to kiss her, and at the time I didn't know why I didn't take the chance; I was pretty sure she'd have let me. I imagine it was my normally-incredibly-flexible conscience coming out of torpor.

quote:

I know it's not to the scale of the rest of the hero's on this page but since he has to deal with the crutch of being an actual person, that it understandable. A friend of mine and classmate is a real life example of this trope. In the past year and a half, he has placed himself in situations where he has done poorly on exams, missed job interviews and gotten into some really rotten situations because when someone needs help, he always gives help. In fact, he often does it when a person doesn't ask for help, which is part of why he gets into trouble. However, when one of the people he had helped starting telling the story of how he helped her and what it had cost him and how he still continued to help people despite that, my friend, when asked why he did it, could only say, "I couldn't live with myself if I didn't help." That is why he's my friend.
By the way, the story of the girl he helped mentioned above is a perfect example of how he just gets screwed when helping people. The girl got really drunk. None of her friends wanted to deal with her. The guy wanted to make sure she got home OK. She started to cross the street as he was catching up to her when she stepped in the way of a car. He pulls her out of the way and in the process, gets swiped by the car himself. The car doesn't stop, he's on the curb and the girl is on her rear on the sidewalk. She starts screaming and we come by. She then tells us that he pushed her down after trying to feel her up. We only find out what really happened after she sobered up, remembered what really happened and then got over her embarrassment of it. Needless to say, it was a few months where we thought he was a creep. And yet, he still kept helping people. That is Chronic Hero Syndrome. I wish more people had it like he did.

Verisimilidude posted:

Hello new thread!

Farmland Park posted:

Wait, have I got this right? There are no bacon covered hot dogs in the US?

quote:

I’ve had a very interesting turn of events happen in my life recently, and I'm still in a state of shock (sort of). I just recently quit my job because I got into a spat with a co-worker and I decided that I wasn't going to be able to work at the company anymore as long as he was there. He wasn't going anywhere anytime soon, so I gave the ol’ 2-second notice, grabbed my poo poo, and walked out. Irrational? Oh yeah. So where does Bioshock, and a chance to plan an underwater city come into picture? Well, here is how it happened:

Where did I work? That will go unnamed (as well as some other things...loving internet detectives), but I will tell you it was a large oil and gas company. I was a systems administrator, and basically spent the entire day in a server room doing server maintenance, making sure the network was functioning correctly, and all the other good stuff sys-admins take care of. Sometimes I would get bored and walk around and bullshit with people. During one of my walks, I encountered a man of Middle Eastern decent. This is not uncommon at all when you work in the oil and gas industry.

For the sake of this, I’m going to call him Ahmed (not his real name). He looked extremely bored out of his mind, and a little anxious. I hadn’t seen him around before, so I introduced myself and we got to talking. He talked about his life in “The Kingdom” and I told him about mine here in the states. It was at this moment I found out he was an extremely wealthy oil baron, and more or less despised the religious overtones of his fellow Middle Eastern brethren. Turns out he was a capitalist at heart, and believed that Islam’s overzealous approach...to uh, everything, was a hindrance to business and was very annoying to him. Not your typical Middle Eastern man indeed.

I suddenly became worried because I had just spent the last hour conversing and going on with an extremely important client. And of course, not a minute later the room began to fill with executives. They were all eyeballing me, probably wondering what the hell the sys-admin was doing in the executive conference room with Ahmed. Turns out the plane with the executives Ahmed was supposed to meet with had been delayed and they had been breaking all kinds of traffic laws to get back to the office ASAP. They were extremely apologetic for keeping him waiting. He laughed and said he had thought about leaving except that I (pointing at me as I was trying to leave the room) had kept him entertained while he had been waiting. I did one of those fake “ha-ha” laughs and waved goodbye as I ran back to my server room to hide.

I expected to get a phone call later about how I almost hosed up some huge deal, yadda yadda yadda, but it never came. I gave a sigh of relief and went back to watching House on one screen while Wire Shark displayed some interesting stuff on the other. Then it happened, my desk phone rang. What could it be? The internet was up, the T1’s going to the VoIP phone system were all online, there were no disk faults on the SAN...why was I being called? It was coming from the Vice President of International Relations. Great. Here it comes. Here was me about to get bitched out. Boy was I going to be surprised with what was going to happen next.

Turns out I had inadvertently saved the day by talking to Ahmed. What had happened was [NAME REMOVED] had been put in charge of waking everyone up at the hotel so they could catch the early flight out back to Houston. [NAME REMOVED] had gotten drunk the night before, slept in, and caused everyone to miss the early A.M. flight. This meant that if everything went on schedule they would barely make it to the meeting with Ahmed taking the next flight...and it had been delayed. Ahmed didn’t like to wait, and would have probably had left it hadn’t been for me talking to him in the interim. So the conversation went something like this:

VP: “HypeTelecon, what are you doing tonight?”

Me: “Well, it’s Friday night, I’m probably going to go out with my frie-“

VP: “No you’re not. You’re going to go out with Ahmed.”

Me: “Uh, what? You want me to go hang out with a 30 somethings middle eastern man?”

VP: “Yeah, funny thing, turns out he has requested that you come out with him tonight instead of the client entertainer we normally use.”

Me: “So...what exactly would I be doing?”

VP: “More than likely you’ll take him out to eat at one of the 5 star restaurants, and then whatever else he wants to do.”

Me: “And what exactly would that be? I'm not sleeping with him.”

VP: “HAHA, no, not that. Well, to be honest, you will probably end up taking a limo to a lot of dance and strip clubs, getting drunk beyond all belief and generally having the time of your life. Probably get a lot of rear end too.”

Me: “I’m sorry...did I just hear that...from a 40 something year old executive...? I must be dreaming or someone put something in my lun-“

VP: “Yeah, you see, some of these guys that come over here to do business with us are not religious at all and love to party. We show them a good time, they sign deals with us. We tend to turn a blind eye to this sort of thing and use a client entertainer to handle all the knitty-gritties. This situation, however, is a little different. He has taking a liking to you for whatever reason, and wants to party with you. We have been trying to get this guy to sign FOR A LONG TIME and [NAME REMOVED] drat near hosed it up again. You’d be helping us out a lot by doing this. I realize I’m making some gross assumptions about you, but I figured you being in your early 20’s and all you’d jump at the chance for something like this.”

Me: “Who is going to be paying for all this fun and excitement?”

VP: “You’ll be given a company amex to take care of everything.”

Me: “SOLD.”

VP: “Excellent. Come by my office to get everything you’ll need. I'm going to call amex right now and add you as an authorized user of the corporate card. Oh yeah, you’ll probably be doing this all again Saturday night as well.”

Me: “Dear diary, jackpot.” *CLICK*

So I went to his office, and he gave me a “corporate amex”. I was instructed to go get fitted for a suit since he knew nothing I owned would be good enough. What a jerkface! But it was true; I wore a polo-shirt and jeans to work every day. I didn’t really need a nice suit. Since the company was footing the bill for this, I decided I’d go with the classic tux. It’s truly amazing how fast you can be tailored for one of these things when you say you’re buying the thing outright, heh. Just say, "Charge it!"

I called Mr. VP of International Relations and let him know I had the appropriate apparel for the evening. He said, “Good,” and then gave me directions to the hotel Ahmed was staying at. He told me he had already emailed the limo company I was to use to my phone, and to keep in mind the Middle Eastern do’s and dont's he had gone over with me in his office. And then of course the big thing, keep mentioning how thankful the company was for working with him and that I hoped that he signed come Monday. He also kept going on about how much of a stellar employee I was for doing this and that I could expect some surprises for myself come Monday if everything went well. Yawn. Whatever.

The drive downtown was a little annoying, but soon enough I made my way to the Inter-Continental Houston Hotel. If you haven’t seen it, it truly is a timeless sight. Before I went and located Ahmed, I booked myself a room for the weekend, and prepaid in full. If we did party again Saturday, I’ll be covered, if not, I’m staying anyways, heh. The cute blonde behind the counter must have thought something was up. Young 20’s something, wearing a tux, booking a room on the fly and paying the ridiculous rate all on a corporate amex...yeah I’d probably think that was fishy too.

I told her I was youngest executive at [COMPANY NAME REMOVED] and that I was here to entertain a client that was going to be signing a multi-million dollar contract on Monday. This just added to skepticism and she called a manager over. I'm sure the manager's bullshit alarm and fraud detector were going ape-poo poo. I placed my driver’s license on the counter and told them to call amex if they didn’t believe me. After verifying that I was an authorized user of the card, they suddenly became a 100 times nicer to me. Who would've thought? I also joked with the blonde about coming up to my room when she got off work. Cue face turning red and girly laughing. Sweet. I like this pretending to be an executive thing.

Anyways, after dropping the little stuff I had brought with me in my room, I found Ahmed’s room and knocked on the door. He opened the door and shouted, “HypeTelecon! So nice to see you again! We are going to have a great time tonight!” I asked where he wanted to eat, and to my shock, he responded with, “Take me to the best steak house here in the city of Houston.” Now, I’m no cultural expert by any means, but even I knew this was outlandish. I waited for the punch line of the joke, but he was 100% serious. Apparently he loves his steak, and can only eat it when he is here by himself in the states for obvious reasons.

So I called Ruth Chris (maybe not the best steak house in Houston, but it has to be drat close), explained that I was going to need a private party room and to pull out all the stops. They were more than eager to accommodate me, especially when I asked if they took the corporate amex, heh. The limo showed up just a little before 7pm, and off we were to eat delicious steak. And I must say, the steak and wine were to die for. Ahmed was thoroughly impressed, and said it was by far the best steak he had ever eaten. At this point, I had to ask him why he wanted to hang out with me over the guy they had lined up. He replied, “You have been the first person here that treated me like an equal, you weren’t scared to talk to me even though my wealth extends beyond anything imaginable, and you aren’t always doubling-back your words if you say something I find displeasing. You treat me like a friend and that is extremely important to me.” Heh, wow, I didn’t know what to say, so I raised my wine glass and toasted to friendship and a fun rest of the night. He didn't have to know that if I had known all of those things I would've have said a word to him in the first place.

Now it was time to party. We went from dance club to dance club, and lived it up like no tomorrow. We danced with amazingly hot (but extremely shallow) girls, had all kinds of alcohol, and just had an awesome time in general. When you have no limits on the funds, the party doesn’t stop. I wanted to see the look on the accountant’s face come Monday when they checked the bill. After lots of dancing and drinking, it was time to hit up the strip clubs. We bounced around from Gold Cup, Centerfolds, Colorado Bar and Grill, The Men’s Club, and finally decided to end the night at Treasures. It was almost 1am at this point, but again, show a “corporate amex” and they literally bend over for you...get it, bend over?

So after watching some stage performances and having a few private lap dances, it was getting close to closing time. By this time, we had quite the number of ladies hanging around our table. Ahmed was essentially what you could call a “Middle Eastern Playboy.” He was one of those “hot foreigners” that all the ladies wanted to gently caress, and not one of the “ugly foreigners” that spend most of their time in strip clubs because those are the only girls they can get to touch them...in exchange for money.

With about 10 minutes to close, Ahmed just comes out with it and says, “Ok, which of you lovely ladies wants to come back to the hotel with me and my friend HypeTelecon here? We have a limo waiting for us outside, and we both have rooms as the Inter-Continental Houston Hotel.” I would imagine everything mentioned in that sentence, plus the roll of 100’s he took out of his pocket made everyone of those strippers dripping wet. I had no problem with this. They whispered amongst themselves, and said that they were all up for it. Ahmed had a thing for blondes, and picked the two hottest ones at the table. He looked at me and then said, “Now HypeTelecon, you pick your two, and I’ll see you back at the limo.” He then stood up, and the two blondes scampered into the back to get their things.

Suddenly all eyes were on me. I had an assortment of cash-starved strippers begging me to pick them. Now, I could’ve sworn the one stripper I dated briefly told me there was a huge difference between strippers and prostitutes, and that not all strippers were prostitutes. Yeah, I wasn’t seeing that at all right now. I picked the young looking Asian women with the perky tits, and the euro-trash red that had somehow managed to bend ways I didn’t think the human body could in her stage performance. The others whined in disgust as the two I picked trotted off to the dressing room to grab their things. Then all six of us headed outside to the limo.

As I made out with the Asian while the red massaged my junk, I could only think this is what is must be like to be Collin Ferrell every night. Money, such a grand thing to have a lot of. It must have been quite a sight to see two extremely drunk men both being escorted by two extremely hot strippers to their rooms. I wonder if the blonde I had flirted with earlier saw this spectacle? Oh well, like it mattered anyways. Ahmed then paid my whores, and we parted ways to go to our rooms. All I can say is that the next few hours were pure ecstasy. I could describe it all to you, but this isn't some fan fiction designed to get you horny. Or is it? Na, not really.

After all the fun and excitement had died down, I found myself resting between two naked strippers. They’re both sleeping soundly, probably dreaming of what they are going to both buy with tonight’s big score. I yawn, and then the phone rings. Who the gently caress would be calling my hotel room at 7 A.M. in the loving morning? Who the hell even knows this number?! Turns out it is Ahmed, he is bored and can’t sleep. I ask him how the hell he can be bored with two blondes lying naked in his bed. He tells me, “My dick is broke. I need something else to do while it recovers.” Then he asks me if there is some way we can play that video game I was going on about all night. Cue question mark over my head. Video game I was going on about? He says, “Yeah, you know, the one about the underwater city, and the crazy genetics. Bio-something or another?”

If there was ever a moment in my life when I felt like the biggest nerd ever, it would definitely be now. Apparently at one of the strip clubs, I had been going on about Bioshock to Ahmed and the strippers at our table. Ahmed had decided he wanted to see what all the fuss was about and wanted me to play it with him. I told him we would have to go somewhere and buy an Xbox360, and the game itself. He said he doesn’t care, and to meet him downstairs ASAP. So, I tell my lovely ladies me and Ahmed are going to run an errand. They say, “Ok, whatever,” stretch, yawn, and snuggle up with each other, boobs to boobs. loving HOT. So resisting the urge to dive between them and repeat what I was doing only hours earlier, I put my tux back on, and take the elevator downstairs.

I meet Ahmed in the lobby. He is still wearing the same thing he wore the night before too. A couple of real class acts right here folks. So we then pile in my car, and I try to think of a place where I can buy an xbox360 and the game Bioshock at 7:45 AM in the loving morning. GameStop is out, as those communists apparently don’t open until 9:00 AM or some poo poo. He gets upset, as again, he doesn’t like waiting, but then I tell him we could get it 100% for sure at Wal-Mart at this hour. He agrees, so I begin driving to the closet Wal-Mart in the area. Thank god for Garmin GPS.

Now, this had to be the sight of all sights. You have an American man wearing a full tux and the other a Middle Eastern man sporting a Brioni suit, both walking in Wal-Mart half-drunk and half-asleep. We head back to the electronics section (everyone eyeballing us as we walk by) and find the game consoles. I tell the sales lackey with the key that I am going to need an elite xbox360, and the game Bioshock. The guy looks at me in disbelief as he gets the items I have requested and brings them to the electronics checkout counter. Ahmed insists on paying, and pays for everything in cash. Yikes! Doesn’t he know it’s a bad idea to carry thousands of dollars around on your person? Apparently not.

So with game and game console in-towe, we return to the hotel. We head up to Ahmed’s room, and I set everything up. Luckily the TVs in the rooms had front inputs, otherwise I bet I would’ve found myself going back to Wal-Mart to buy a plasma or something. I put in the game and start it up. I try and hand him the controller, but he says he wants to watch me play. So I play Bioshock. He watches in awe for sometime, and then begins to ask me questions about why I like this game so much. I tell him I like the concept of a city underwater, away from everything else, were people can thrive without government influence (yes folks, I’m a libertarian). He seems intrigued by the concept as well.

I pause the game, and we get into a huge discussion about what we would do if we could create such a place in real life. I don’t know how long we had been going on about all this, but at some point the two blonde strippers woke up, and started laughing at us. We both look at them with a “What?!” look on our faces, they laugh harder and call us a bunch of nerds. Then Ahmed dives on top of them and says, “I’ll show you nerd.” I take that as cue to exit stage left and return to my room. I like the guy, but no way in hell I’m having a 4some with him. I return to my room with the sleeping wenches. They are still snuggled together, except now they are spooning each other. So I do what any normal man would, strip down to nothing and jump in bed with them.

Now, I could go on about what I did the rest of the day, or the encore party me and Ahmed had Saturday night, but that’s not really important. What is important is that I had planted the idea of creating something where Ahmed could do business as he pleased without having to deal with “religion police” and stupid archaic laws (as he called him) that were stifling his fund-making abilities. Couldn’t be hurting TOO BAD, but whatever.

Monday comes, and I stroll in at 8:00 AM and I’m immediately called into the executive conference room. I see Mr. VP of International Relations, sweating bullets while standing at the podium, and just about every other VP I had ever met was sitting around the conference table. He asked, “So, HypeTelecon, is he going to sign the contract?” I froze, and must have turned white as a ghost. I had totally forgotten to talk up the contact-signing. So I did what any other person in my position would do and said, “Oh yeah, it’s a done deal. He is going to come in here and let the ink fly!” and then I gave a huge thumbs up and a huge wink. This was followed by murmuring amongst themselves and then dead silence when Ahmed walked in.

The CEO stood up, shook his hand, and then asked, “So have you come to a decision?” Ahmed replied, “Yes, I have. I am impressed with your company, the terms are more than fair, and the hospitality HypeTelecon has showed me was excellent. I have decided to sign the contract and do business with all of you.” And the executives rejoiced! My heart started beating again, and my skin pigment returned. Mr. VP of International Relations winked at me, and I winked back at him. It was totally a gay moment. Ahmed went through the contract and signed this, dotted that, all while both sets of lawyers scrutinized every line item to make sure no last-minute tom-foolery had taken place. As for me, I went back to my server room. Today was Venture Brothers marathon day, and of course, more Wire Shark.

Then, about half way through “20 Years to Midnight” I got a call from Mr. VP of International Relations again. Turns out Ahmed would be flying out later that day and he wanted to say goodbye. I met him and Ahmed at the front of the building. He gave me a firm handshake and said, “I had a great time this weekend. I’ve told [NAME REMOVED] here to make sure they inform you of when I come back to visit so we can go out again. Which, apparently is going to be a lot more frequent now.” I told him I’d be honored to keep him company anytime he was in town. I shook his hand again, and he got into the cab to take him off to the airport.

Mr. VP of International Relations looked at me and said, “Wow, you made quite an impression on him. What exactly did you guys do this weekend?” I started to tell him of our adventures in debauchery, but he cut me off saying if I went any further he’d probably end up coming out with us next time and end up cheating on his wife, and that he couldn’t afford to do that since he had a daughter and some other yadda yadda yadda, whatever. Then he told me I had to report to accounting to go over every line item on the corporate amex I had used during the weekend. Oh goody. Let me tell you, confirming all of those charges while Jesus freak of a CPA read them all off to me was very pleasant. I kept waiting for her to bust out the holy water and crucifix and start beating me to death. But, I guess this was nothing out of the ordinary, nor the fact that I had rang up over $10,000 bucks in charges. No, nothing to see here, just move along and don’t stare.

So about once a month, Ahmed would fly in for the week to yammer over figures, find out what in god’s name his money was being spent on, and then of course we would party like crazy on the weekends. Mr. VP of International Relations took great care in keeping a tight lid on who knew it was actually me “entertaining” Ahmed while he was in town. God, that just sounds dirty, doesn’t it? But eventually a rumor broke out...I think it was after that one time we decided to party on Sunday night too and I showed up to work hammered, but it’s anyone’s guess really. The top level executives didn’t seem to give a flying gently caress about what was going on behind their backs as long as Ahmed kept sending those generous EFTs to their corporate bank account.

Now we get to the good part. I wasn’t really being paid what I was worth at this job. Sure, having a server room to yourself is nice and all, and partying with a cool foreigner once a month is badass, but the lack of decent pay does kinda outweigh both of those. And on top of that, a lot of people I had to deal with were either luddites that just didn’t get this new-fangled “technology” thing, or just plain assholes. I decided to just quit and find something better. Some would say a smart man would’ve quit after he had another job lined up...some would say I’m not a very smart man.

However, it turns out Ahmed found out I quit, and was very upset over this. He called me when he found out and wanted to know why. I told him my grievances and he agreed it was a lovely deal. He asked me if he should cancel his contract with the company. I laughed and said no, because then he wouldn’t be coming in town that much anymore and I wouldn’t get to see him when he did. I told him I’d still love to party with him when he was visiting, but unfortunately I wouldn’t have a corporate amex to foot our usually 5 figure bill. He said that wouldn’t be a problem, we’d party just the same and he’d send the bill directly to them. Wow. Party buddies four lyfe yo!

Then we got to talking about the whole Bioshock thing again. He asked me if I had secured another job yet. I told him no. He said, “Great! I want you to plan the underwater city. Every detail. I am looking for something new to invest in, and every time we meet, I can’t stop thinking that this could be the next big thing. Dubai has their underwater hotel, I want an underwater CTIY!” I asked him if he was joking, and he reassured me I wasn’t. I said I would get right on it.

Now goons, how in the hell do you even begin planning something like this? Are their companies that build poo poo underwater? I have no idea. How...I...duno. I could possibly have the chance at being a real Andrew Ryan here, but I have no loving clue how to plan this. Hell, I don’t even know the location I would pick out! Is there a “Dummies guide to building cities underwater” somewhere? Ahmed comes back into town on Feb 25th, which means I really have until the 29th (oh poo poo, just realized it was a leap year) to come up with something. If all else fails, I guess I could go to work for his international company, but building an underwater city seems way cooler.

Anyone have any ideas? I’m totally open to suggestions!

ibntumart posted:

Google tells me that apparently Norwegians use a type of sasuage very similar to hot dogs, eaten in flatbread with ketchup and mustard. I have no idea why a slightly different bread and the inclusion of bacon would blow the mind of any American. We've been consuming bacon-wrapped hot dogs for generations.

e: I'm feeling nostalgic... this STDH belongs in every iteration of this thread!

Verisimilidude posted:

Hello new thread!

ibntumart posted:

e: I'm feeling nostalgic... this STDH belongs in every iteration of this thread!

Farmland Park posted:

Yeah I'm actually Norwegian, and I was surprised that Americans found it so amazing that they had sausages with bacon in Norway. In parts of Norway we also have hot dogs with soft waffles as the bread.

Libandano Urfam posted:

My least favorite things in STDHes are overused ellipses.

hyperhazard posted:

I love that one so much. Especially the line about how crazy it was that his Muslim friend was secretly eating beef.

quote:

I went to the club in one of the casinos last night with one of my friends and some girl I gently caress. Imagine being out somewhere and seeing me walk right by you. You would turn around as fast as you possibly could and watch me in total awe just like every other inferior male does. I've caught people following me around more times than I can count. The three of us got to the casino and were walking towards the club. Some scrawny geek walked up next to me and told me that his friend was in total awe of my size and would do anything to feel my bicep. The first thing that just came out of my mouth was yeah your friend could feel my bicep if he pays me $100. The scrawny geek waved over his other beta friend and proceeded to actually hand me a $100 bill. My friend and the girl I were with were laughing their asses off and I was really trying hard not too. I flexed my bicep and grunted at the slave while everyone around the club was watching. The slave felt my huge bicep while having the look of total awe on its face and said that it never felt a bicep as powerful as mine and never actually saw anyone as big as me in its life. I laughed in the slaves face and told it that I'm 6'4 over 300 lbs of pure straight alpha muscle. The slave said thank you and told me that feeling my bicep made its night. I laughed and told the slave that it was the best thing to ever happen to its life. The slave smirked and wandered off with the rest of its inferior scrawny friends. I had two other guys come up to me in shock and awe saying that they couldn't believe that I had to power to actually make someone pay $100 to feel my bicep. I told them when your a built alpha god you always get whatever you want in life without even trying. They looked dumb founded by my statement but told me how awesome I was and that they wish they could be as big as me. I laughed and said don't worry no matter what you do you will never be as big as me. We went in the club for a while and I danced with the girl I brought while my friend walked around. The club was pretty dead so we didn't stay long. We ended up leaving and my friend drove the girl and I back to my house. When we got into my bedroom the girl stripped naked and dropped to her knees right in front of my crotch. I trained this whore really good. When I first met her she really wasn't that good in bed. I could obviously tell that shes never been with a man before and just inferiors. I taught her how to suck cock and deep throat like a pornstar. Now she spits and slurps all over my cock while her slobber drools all over her tits. Shes trained to take my cock in her mouth as deep as possible until she gags and tears come out of her eyes. I always gently caress the poo poo out of her and even started to give her some anal training. I really do love turning women into whores and making them truly realize they are meant to be on their knees servicing alpha cock.

ibntumart posted:

e: I'm feeling nostalgic... this STDH belongs in every iteration of this thread!

Khazar-khum posted:

Rosebush

ibntumart posted:

Google tells me that apparently Norwegians use a type of sasuage very similar to hot dogs, eaten in flatbread with ketchup and mustard. I have no idea why a slightly different bread and the inclusion of bacon would blow the mind of any American. We've been consuming bacon-wrapped hot dogs for generations.

bringmyfishback posted:

Well, we were very fancy. No jeans allowed, etc.

Incidentally, I am a British person based entirely on passport ownership alone!


OKAY MARRY ME NOW WE ARE MARRIED

Geniasis posted:

http://www.nbcnewyork.com/news/national-international/1000-Tip-Surprises-College-Bound-Waitress-375981821.html

This STDH either escaped out into the wild, or journalists aren't even pretending to fact check anymore.

jase1 posted:

This story is a rehash from an old thread I had about hustling dummies at the pool table. I learned everything I know about pool hustling from my uncle. We use to run cons in dive bars all over the place all the time when we were on the road hustling. This is my favorite con that we use to pull because it worked almost every time.


My uncle would drop me off at this dive bar and I would walk in and bring my pool stick and just start shooting. Get a few drinks, shoot around, ask some people to shoot for drinks and start a very good repor with the bar. Hopefully I could get some people to who were interested in shooting pool. We would shoot friendly games for drinks and I would make sure to never lose and just keep winning and showing my best moves. After a an hour or 2 or maybe 3 depending on how things are going Frank walks in. Frank is a master at acting drunk so much so that he has fooled me a few times just to get me to drive home. So he walks in already drunk and he sits down at the bar and starts drinking and making sure everyone there can hear him talk. He is loud, obnoxious, annoying and just a straight up rear end in a top hat. After he has had a few drinks he will walk over and just watch me shoot. He starts poo poo talking my pool play and telling me what I am doing wrong and we get into a little discussion that turns into pissing contest. I tell him to grab a stick and lets play for some drinks, he laughs and says he only plays for money. I tell him I don't gamble for money like that and I eventually walk away from the table and sit at the bar. He grabs the stick and starts shooting and proclaiming that he is the best everyone is afraid him and that sort of thing. Now the regulars are getting mad because he has ruined the good vibe in the bar I had going. I get mad and tell him to cool it no one wants to hear his bullshit. He gets in my face and calls me a coward because I won't gamble with him. I tell him if I had any money on me I would shut him up right now. He laughs and just continues his parade of assholishness. He keeps harping on the gambling thing.

Right around this time hopefully someone will come to my rescue and stake me. Usually a guy will come up to me and say hey I'll give you 20 bucks to gamble with the guy and shut him up so I will take that 20 and say alright how about we gamble for 20 and Frank will just laugh and say something like he doesn't even pick up a stick for less than a 100 and I go back to the guy and give him his money and tell him what Frank says. Hopefully I have done my part and these guys are sucked in because then they start to go around the bar and raise some money for me to shut him up. Usually its around 200 or so depending on the area. I have had a few times where it got up over 1k. After they raise the money I tell Frank to lets gamble and I proceed to lose it all to him in an amazing acting performance that should get me some award but I have perfected the art of taking a beating at the pool table without it looking like it was my fault. Frank leaves I stick around and apologize and then after an hour or so I leave and meet up with Frank down the street or wherever.. When I was younger and on the road hustling we could do that maybe 6 times a month and have all my hotels and food paid for from those cons so we could drive to the next town looking for a pool hall to hustle more dummies.

Boofchicken posted:

Does anyone have the story of the guy who had a job where he did nothing and kept collecting pay checks?

Boofchicken posted:

Does anyone have the story of the guy who had a job where he did nothing and kept collecting pay checks? Like he would go into work, but not actually do anything because his actual job got "lost" in the system and he was on the payroll with no oversight.

Love story for the ages posted:

Throwaway! Fyi im a guy. Bit of a long one but anyways. Years ago my gf (we'll call deb) and I were out with her friend (we'll call Sara). This one day Sara had to pin unlock her phone each time to take one of many pictures....out the corner of my eye I saw her pin. I saved it in a note. Months later sara and deb were at my place and went to the pool. Sara left her phone indoors. I used her password and hit jackpot. Nudes, videos, message logs with some guy she was talking (well call jeff) to, along with tons of dick picks and videos of him jacking off. Now deb was hot but sara was a fat chick that worked her rear end off and became a 11/10. With this goldmine of pics and vids I concocted a slow plan.....very slow. Slowly I broke off with deb but kept in touch with sara. I then created a alter ego online (we'll call it Vanessa). For months I worked this identity so it looked real. This identity started following Sara on all social media (Sara accepted any friend requests). Vanessa blackmailed jeff. Jeff was given 2 days to stop talking to sara or his dick picks got leaked. He was chicken poo poo and dropped her like a hot potato. But Sara was strong willed...when Vanessa threatened sara to stop talking to jeff or her pics get leaked she protested...so I knew I had to change tactics. Vanessa disappeared for a while until I could get Sara's phone in my hands for a bit. One day sara was over and "lost" her phone at my place. I "found" it for her the next day.... Not before I installed a spy app that let me keep track of her everything. A few weeks later Vanessa came back but now armed with the conversations sara was having with everyone. While tracking Sara's reactions and suspicions, I made it show that Vanessa wasnt real.... Now all my friends know me as being pretty tech literate. One day im talking with Sara and she breaks down crying telling me how she been long distance sexting this guy and somebody hacked his or her phone and now shes being blackmailed by some stranger she doesn't know. So she askes me if I could help her. Long ending short I made it look like jeff was Vanessa. I made it look like he created this person so that he could blackmail Sara into hosed up sex stuff. Sara left him and guess who was the hero? Me. I caught "Vanessa". Sara was now safe because of me. Once we blackmailed the guy, " Vanessa" disappeared... You know...for realism. Sara and I now had this tragedy...this hurdle that we overcame together. We started dating not long after. She was never going back to long distance relationships and wanted to try local....4 years later were married.
Tl;dr months of planned lies, blackmail, espionage got me my wife.

ibntumart posted:

e: I'm feeling nostalgic... this STDH belongs in every iteration of this thread!

tacodaemon posted:

My favorite part of that one is the assumption that a shopping-mall chain restaurant like Ruth's Chris has got to be pretty much the best steakhouse in a gigantic booming city in loving Texas of all places