I’ve always added a carrot.

First I was asked politely to not swear, even if I was not a customer facing employee.

Second time I was cautioned was because I’d switched to swearing in another language. Manager thought it was hilarious, but they still knew I was swearing.

I spent the next five years being increasingly creative with how I swore. A temporary (and loud) revert to English swearing when I was in a workplace accident was kindly ignored due to circumstance.

There was no third warning.

ASKA, Satisfactory, and No Man’s Sky. Occasionally a bit of Pax Dei thrown in in case my building scratch is itchy.

There was a place like this in Vancouver, no idea if it is still there.

The Elbow Room. “Food and service is our name, abuse is our game!”

One of our group asked for water, he got told his legs worked and he could get it himself. The food was amazing, although we did get told off for not finishing our plate.

I have so far managed to avoid threads, but Insta is filled with ‘Comment forcedengagement to get the pattern/recipie/cureforthecommon cold’ or stolen videos with facts about some shitty car.

I block them, but that appears to count as interest, so I end up with more of that shit shoved at me.

I’m only there because the crafters I want to see are there, and none of them want to join anything federated. :(

Hopefully through their buttholes, not through their fingers and mouths.

Our previous ISP kept after us for a few years to return their modem/router. Only problem was we were a BYO account - we never had a need for their device, nor was it ever on our account or any invoices. A few years later, and every few months afterward (typically after I’ve had to contact them to solve the hell that was constant dropouts - reconnecting 2-4 times a minute) the missing BUDii would pop up again and they’d demand we return or pay for it.

Each time I got snarkier and snarkier, treading the line of being polite and sounding like I wanted to chew their face off. Then I got Betty (fake name) who asked for a moment while she read the correspondence on our account. She commiserated with the troubles we’d been having, clarified notes on our account and then solved what a dozen others couldn’t figure out, and we never heard about the BUDii ever again.

Cure for me - in my arse.

A male staff member was yelling at and berating a female for god knows what. She was trying to get away from him, and he’d followed her around the office down the stairs and into the washroom.

She was the manager’s fiancee, and there were three witnesses. We were honestly worried for her safety and the receptionist was about to call 911.

Consequences for the abusive minidicked coworker? NONE.

I’m at the point where I no longer actively engage with hobby communities, I might join one and lurk (search for my answers without engaging the community). Unfortunately, they always seem to be cliquish, judgemental, and overly toxic, with moderation/admin who’s are either complicit or actively adding to the bad barrel.

Once in a while I find a gem worth engaging with, and it can turn a passing glance of an interest into something worth lifting up.

Again?

And here I thought it was to look fabulous with silver hair and having no more fucks to give when dealing with morons like JD Futon.

(And to have a cat)

Shower the horse, ya bum.

(Ciao adios - Anne Marie)

A few. Most recent is my neighbour.

245948 - buhbye!

I think he got his mom’s color palettes mixed in with his derp.

(Mostly older) People have been claiming they were a summer or autumn for decades.

Santos wrote, “I just single-handedly made the left hate Drag queens lol,”

Nah dude, we just hate you.

This Hour Has 22 Minutes

There’s a colony of them off the coast of northern BC. It was started about twenty years ago for a study.

Granted, they are plastic and nailed down, but hey, who cares about details.

Facebook did it as well, maybe a couple years after opening up to the non university crowd. Neither FB at the time or G+ years later gave any thought that their no pseudonym policies put someone’s safety at risk.