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 Now online (2)dariusgriffin big ...and 100 guests Last 5 registered Oplandisks nothingstar N_loop yipe foxtrotromeo Browse members... |
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so i'm out for a walk and a smoke a bit past 1am; not a typical time for any sort of conversation whatever. then there's this obese ginger chick i see sometimes, rounding the corner. her dog flies at me, barking at growling. she makes no effort to control dog; lets dog be up in my face and make noise waking everyone up. have i seen a man in a white shirt, running? i briefly wonder if this is some weird reference to myself. i'm starting to jog a bit, and i often just wear an undershirt, since i'm going to be drenched it sweat and just tear it off soon as i'm home. and i'm wearing one now... but also a hoodie. but, like... no, you dumb bitch. i've walked across the street and three houses down. i've seen absolutely no one. and control your dog, esp. at 1am. i have no idea what you're on about |
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i'm a life-long nite-owl, and i've come to feel there are certain unwritten rules you respect. chief amongst them is: most people are not night owls, and live your life, be up at weird hours, but be fucking quiet or you'll rapidly develop a personal cluster of people primed to, like... as if they're especially waiting to catch you again and wake up; get mad. once you've woken them up a few times. so, just don't start that spiral; let everyone sleep that it's to the point, where, when i do, rarely, wind up speaking with people, i use my quiet indoor voice. not a whisper, but very low and quiet. i've noted other people do this as well, even before i speak, so it's not just mirroring what i'm doing. it's just natural if you feel like being polite so, yeah. a barking, growling dog, waking everyone up. this tart loudly asking me a genuinely bizarre question. probably the first time anyone's been aware of me walking at 1am. shut up. go away. you're messed up |
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some nights we take a walk and tend to move rather silently. there is a lot more to discover if you dont yell nature away. foxes, hedgehogs and nutrias move about much closer. one time we went alongside the river there was a loud rustling in the bushes. it sounded as if a bear would appear to be coming out any minute. instead this big nutria found its way out. rather suprised seeing us in the middle of the way it catapulted back in a flip, yelling at us. 30 sec later it came back through the same opening in the blackberries. grunting and panting. very slowly it went right by us casually grazing my foot, as if he owned the place (well he actually does). passed the berries on the other side of the way and slipped into the water. we just stood there in awe happy to watch this big fella move and not giving a damn. think i wrote about this b4. another time we saw someone walking down the sidewalk, we just took a seat on a shady private bench on the same sidewalk not making a sound, seeing if he would notice us passing by. |
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and yes, absofuckinglutely no need to letting the whole neighbourhood know if you talk during a stroll |
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stock threads |
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foxes, hedgehogs and nutrias move about much closer. one time we went alongside the river there was a loud rustling in the bushes. it sounded as if a bear would appear to be coming out any minute. instead this big nutria found its way out. rather suprised seeing us in the middle of the way it catapulted back in a flip, yelling at us nature is all well and charming until skunks. i had the closest encounter i've ever had with a skunk two or three weeks ago: i'm walking, at night, music gone, sweeping the flashlight around for wildlife... and, shine it over to the left, and, fuuuuck, there's a skunk, literally a foot and a half from where i am standing the skunk is all huaaaagh! *terrified cringe* i am all huaaaagh! *terrified cringe* and all, i think, that saved me from the skunk deploying, was the music, and that fact that our reaction was mutual terror. marching to the beat. so while i'm freaking out and cringing, my feet keep on moving, on their own, carrying me out of range before either i or the skunk can regain our marbles the rabbits, though, kind of funny. i'll wiggle the flashlight around, move along animals, whatever you are -- and i've found it can really bamboozle the wabbits. like, they want to run, but the moving light; they can't figure it out. and -- here is my point -- sometimes they'll just freeze for a bit as i bambooze flicker and then suddenly jumping backflip and dart off. gives me a solid chuckle |
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anyways, turns out some guy up the street flashed his dick at a couple walking, the husband got all "hey bro get lost" and the guy starts punching him. i went out for a smoke and the whole street was locked down; this fucking cop. the street is closed for police operations. ok, which way can i walk? the street is closed for -- no, no, it's alright [i'm trying to be all -- calm down dude i'm not arguing; i'm asking for direction. and he thinks i'm arguing] and eventually i establish i can go, er, that-er-way ok. and i do. and all the neighbors are just kind of, like, camping on the street. i was taking 15m off work and i guess these people do not have jobs or something? i ask some female cop bitch, yeah, i'm just curious, what's going on? and she says: "there's police operations at one of the houses." and i think to myself: no. shit then later that night, is when that lady is acting loud and bizarre on my ass at 1am: apparently, since i am wearing a t-shirt, i am potentially that brain-damaged perv, she set her dog on me, made a ruckus because she was scared. as she judged me based on naught but my appearance, i will now judge her on hers: she is a fat, disgusting slob and shot lay off the ho-ho's if it happens again, i will scream like i am being stabbed: control your dog. help. halp |
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in response to some couple seeing some nutter's junk they literally locked down the whole neighborhood and scrambled helicopters. in a weird way i feel much better walking alone at night now |
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if only the dong flasher knew his peen had such power, he could have deployed it for good |
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actually strikes me as schizophrenia. fentanyl doesn't make people do that, and people around here are too boring to drop acid or smoke pcp weed. purportedly, he was standing dead still in the middle of the street -- not a quiet street at all -- smoking a cigarette, zonked out. the couple comes by, sees him, begins hemming and hawing, and he offers to display his genitals. no, wait, no answer needed; here they are. the husband rushes up to the dude and something something fisticuffs. for a gutting moment i worried it was lewis, but, no -- not his style. he'll stand in the middle of the street, smoking a zig, screaming about how satan will slit him from anus to sternum and then rape the slit, but he's never once flashed his junk. that's just not how he does |
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i have a feeling you could cut most problems out in life if you just stopped acting like a spastic in public |
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sorted that out years ago. but, go figure, lots of other people are worse and i've to deal with their mess on top of my own. like some obese ginger cunt turning her dog on me and switching on her beast siren THAT GUY WEARING A T-SHIRT IS BACK and i don't really think wearing a t-shirt counts as spastic |
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well, you're trolling, you lobster, but i have to say, i did ponder it afterwards: did i do anything weird? did i cause this? it's a standard post-mortem for any such incident in my life, because, yes, sometimes... i did cause it. this time, though, i am absolutely sure: this was not me. the cops told me nothing about The Genital Incident and since i had to go back to work i didn't stand on my lawn for two hours like all the other monkeys, and i didn't catch the gossip, and she did, and she saw a man wearing a t-shirt and fired her dog up and got loud. and it wouldn't be until two days later that i read the news and finally comprehend what was going on i think back on how i behaved: i saw her rounding the corner, and i stepped off the sidewalk; well into the street. just to give her plenty of space, as some people are really howard hughes, these days. not only acknowledging that i'd seen her approaching, but that, yes, you just have the sidewalk. and i'm all set to walk past her when there's a barking, growling dog and REALLY LOUD questions about have i seen a man in a shirt about all i could have done differently was stick it out on my lawn for two hours and gossip, but, despite this outcome -- it was a better investment to work instead |
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yeah. before i read the news two days later and it finally all kinda clicked... for real, i thought that lady was legitimately nuts; off her meds or such. now i merely hate her for subjecting me to a mildly traumatic experience; i'm waiting until i spot her again so i can scowl at her thoroughly. because, like i said. i've seen her before. and if my obvious ass has noticed her, she's surely seen me before. and double fuck off, you've seen me walking plenty of times have i ever done squat except step out of your way? you twit |
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yeah, my first two posts, you can tell. i thought she was crazy for real |
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anyways, i'm 2/3 gay and the way women are now i think i may as well just fib and tell everyone it's 3/3 gay |
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how would you feel to be taking a snoozy stroll for a zig before bed and suddenly have the hounds after you; screaming alert that you might be a sexual predator? because some lady is wound tight as a drum any anything would set her off? it's really better i didn't understand it until later, because if i'd comprehended it in the moment, i probably would have used some very unprofessional words. this way, at least i can make a stupid xlt thread about, rant, you know, deal with it. and wait for a moment to deliver a withering scowl |
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i was just thinking -- she really is insane, because she will never ever get to see my dick. |
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guys the browse members function doesn't work and all you're doing is talking about epic's silly neighbors |
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this is serious business, sir. just wait until some hosebeast screams and points at you. as they haul you off, you're yelling "no, wait, i'm gay, i'm gay, i'm super gay, let me go" but it's no use |
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the hosebeast returneth. with two (2) dags [oh, dogs]. but, dial back: i am a paragon of functionality. i am a fucking megazord. and that is exactly why i sat on my glasses a bit over a week ago when folding laundry. the last time we put our glasses down on our bed, we told ourselves: no no no, don't do that; don't. but then we did it again, and precisely the next time we did, we've sat on our glasses, thus proving our point. weasels in a bloody cage fight and i've already been for an eye exam, all that, but covid etc, the wheels need to download a chip shortage for contract influences or something. so i'm getting very tired, meanwhile, of working all day, on the computer, in my sunglasses. walking at night... i'm so nearsighted, i actually feel better with my sunglasses and a flashlight than i do with any other combination thereof. so here i am, out for a loop and a quick smoke as a hurricane is dying down. i have a raincoat kind of casually slung over my hed, i have just lit up a zig, and i am wearing sunglasses. at 11pm at night. and i turn the corner, and i feel... a presence. i squint; can't see. i flick on my flashlight. dogs barking and growling. shit, it's her again. and now she has two dogs. thank heck, for a moment... i forgot i was probably so, i dunno strange appearing? i was just mad. you really upset me with how you behaved last time, and now you're squaring up to do it all over. i forgot i was wearing sunglasses. so i look right at her, and am all, "HELLO!!!!11!1~" and she's all: uhhhh helllloo and her dogs bark and growl and i take a gigantic poof of my zig and keep walking in my fucking oddly draped raincoat and sunglasses at 11pm. i'm not insane, i'm just a megazord that sat on his glasses and fuck fuck shit we warned ourselves, we warned ourselves. dgfhjf |
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