People love complaining, right? Complain about everything (life, health, bad luck, random shit etc)

[Keith Chegwin]

I had such a nice dream where I was stalking women I knew in middle school on Facebook. I miss those halcyon days were I still had time to do that.

>dreaming about Kikebook stalking women
>not IRL stalking
>Not fucking the women
>Just Faceberg stalking
Lame

[MegaNigger]

I had such a nice dream where I was stalking women I knew in middle school on Facebook. I miss those halcyon days were I still had time to do that.

>dreaming about Kikebook stalking women
>not IRL stalking
>Not fucking the women
>Just Faceberg stalking
Lame

>No festering rape fantasy

Has your Alt-Right conditioning taught you nothing?!

[Guest]

Sticky shits are the worst.

[Kugelfisch]

Sticky shits are the worst.

I'll take it over constipation any day.

[pibbs]

No the worst is sitting on the pot straining for 20 minutes and only getting a small shard to drop.

[VoiceOfReasonPast]

Or when you keep shitting and shitting and it just won't stop coming out.

[Keith Chegwin]

[Lindsay's Liver]

Panhandlers who approach me in a situation from which I can't easily get away, such as when I've just started pumping gas or I'm waiting in line at a drive-thru, can eat my ass. I hate them. I've given money to panhandlers before, but the aggressive fucks get nothing. .

Last night, a guy creeped up to my car at a Jack in the Box drive-thru (judge me if you want, I don't care; once a week or so I indulge in their trashy stupid tacos that I love).

He didn't want money, though. He wanted me to make a phone call for him to some guy who was supposed to pick him for a job. At 10 o'clock on a Sunday night, from a Jack in the Box parking lot. A drawn-out sob story about how he'd been unemployed for awhile followed while the graveyard shift Jack in the Box employees plodded through my taco order safely inside.

I'm soft-hearted. I COULD maybe be persuaded to make a phone call for some lost soul in the middle of the night.

BUT...

The guy had face tattoos. Numbers and symbols running down from his eyes to his jaw.

And I'm sorry, but when you get face tattoos, nobody will ever trust you for the rest of your life. Maybe you're not a criminal, but you've sure gone out of your way to look like one. At the very least, you can be counted on to make terrible decisions, like maybe trying to steal peoples phones in a fast food parking lot at night.

In the middle of his story, the junk food window opened and I got my stupid tacos and then I drove right off while Face Tattoos angrily called me a pussy.

Maybe I'm a pussy, but I still have my phone and my money and my car and my well-being and my tacos were still nice and hot when I got home.

[Pen Pal]

I've had that happen to me once before when I took a trip to Jewtropolis. Some prick was telling me a sob story about how he needed cash and wanted to follow me to the ATM to get some. I told him that I had no money to spend and he yelled out that I was a fucking liar because I was carrying a shopping bag.

[mad bum]

I've had people use my phone, but I hold onto it the whole time and let them talk on speaker.