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We've all had our moments of WHAT THE CHRIST. Moments that just seem to come out of left field and shock the holy hell out of even the most desensitized of us. Found out your favorite uncle from childhood is in the Klan? Best friend whacks off to Yo Gabba Gabba? Girlfriend's sudden success with weight loss turns out to be a meth addiction? You, my friend, have had a WHAT THE CHRIST moment. Years ago, I was the nighttime front desk clerk at a hotel (and as anyone who has ever spent enough time in the "hospitality industry" can tell you, hotels are breeding grounds of  ). It was a pretty sweet gig. . .pretty much involved sitting in a comfy chair, smoking, and watching bad movies on cable for hours on end. The few customers I'd get were generally hookers and their tricks ("What do you mean, I have to pay for a full night? I only need the room for two hours, tops!"), rednecks too drunk to drive home from the bar down the block, what have you. A man can do worse than getting paid to watch poo poo TV and get fat. I eventually moved in to one of the "down rooms." $30 a week, and my commute involved walking down a short hallway. The pay wasn't the greatest, and I had to deal with some pretty sleazy characters. But hey, beats digging ditches. Over my time there, I got to know several of the "live-ins." These were people who, for whatever reason, decided to make the hotel their permanent home. Some had been there for a couple of years, paying by the week. Can't say I blame them. Sure, the weekly rental adds up, but factor in maid service, free cable including all the major movie channels, no utility bills, etc. One of these live-ins was Mr. Blackstock. He was an elderly black gentleman who got by doing odd jobs around town. Very polite, very educated. Went to church every Sunday without fail, every week of the three years he lived there. Never missed a rent payment. He was a nice, friendly old man. I liked him quite a lot. He'd come keep me company on some of the more boring shifts, watching my lovely movies through the office rental window, sharing my beer, cracking corny jokes, and just being an all-around cool motherfucker. He always refused maid service, claiming he didn# like the idea of someone poking around his room when he was out working. No big deal. . .for three years, he had been an ideal customer, so we let him have his privacy. Then, Mr. Blackstock moved out. I was the first to enter his room. Literally. . .in three years, the man had never had any guests. The smell hit me immediately. Sharp, stinging reek of old urine. It didn't take me lonng to find the source: seven hotel wastebaskets beside his bed, filled with cloudy, old piss, with god knows how many cigarette butts floating. One of the two beds was stripped bare, and the mattress was a mess of oily sweat stains and a crazy-quilt of skid marks and cigarette burns. The wall was so plastered with old, crusted semen that it looked like a Jackson Pollack. In the corner was a massive pile of semen crusted children's clothing (we later theorized he would hit up Salvation Army and the local consignment shops, buy the clothing, come home, and beat off into it. We hoped). Then, I noticed the other bed. It was neatly made, except for an odd lump under the blanket. I carefully pulled back the covers. He had cut open the mattress to expose the springs in the middle. Affixed to the heavy coils by a couple of zip ties, was a homemade dildo. A massive one, secured to point straight up. He had taken several plastic shopping bags, and had wrapped them tightly around an old Glade air freshener can. The whole thing was held together by stretching some condoms tightly over it, and was about as big around as my wrist. The hole in the mattress around it was dark with what looked like three years worth of old poo poo and dried blood. Between the bed and the wall, I found a fuckton of old, empty Crisco cans.  God, I hate Alabama. JoeyVapes has a new favorite as of 07:10 on Apr 11, 2011 |
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Apr 11, 2011 07:05
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The other day I was at tennis practice when a fellow student says the following in the span of no less than two minutes: "Communism would be bad, because then everything would belong to everyone, including wives and stuff." "We should just go into all the communist countries and take them over and get rid of communism for good." "I kind of hope that nuclear reactor in Japan just explodes in 2012 and takes out that whole population." His reasoning being that the world was too populated and that we're destroying the environment.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:15
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^^^^ Along those lines, one of my retarded friends at school told me the other day, "I've got no problems with religion, but I really think people building mosques in this country is a bad idea." JoeyVapes posted:So was there poo poo lasagna in the tub?
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Apr 11, 2011 07:15
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...I don't even have words to describe my thoughts and feelings about that story, so I'll just go take a shower, I think.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:16
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 Holy poo poo man that's a hell of an OP.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:16
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Do they have to be bad or can some be life affirming? I had gone to McDonalds in the middle of the night to buy a soda and you'll know, I'm sure, that their lids always have four little tabs on them that can be pressed down and that must be pressed down. All four of them. Recently I had noticed that these tabs would come "un-popped" or whatever term you like, returning to their original position no matter how hard I pressed them down. In a dark place at the time, I just took this as another glaring example of how I was making no noticeable or lasting effect on the world around me. This night, the cup was filled to burst and when I pressed down all the tabs, frigid Dr. Pepper rushed to fill each new depression (much in the same way I had intended for the caffiene to fill my own depression, if only for a short time). I'm not great at foreshadowing and you can see where this is going, but I could not. I returned home, sat with the drink in my lap (half because I find it a convenient cup holder and half because it makes me appear as if I had a large, erect styrofoam penis) and got on the computer. It wasn't long before one of the tabs came un-popped and fired the soda in a trajectory such that it entered into my open, unsuspecting eye. I jerked back, from both the noise and the pain and then settled as I began to understand what happened. With one eye closed, I looked down at the cup, my mouth gaping in superstitious awe and it was AT THIS VERY MOMENT that a second tab unpopped and soda blasted directlly into my open mouth. It was the single most spiritual moment of my life. Even now, I wonder if it really happened -- and I don't kid myself to think that any of you will really believe it, why would you? Would I? We're all so cynical -- or if it was just a pleasant myth I convinced myself of in order to get through each new day. Careful readers will notice I only mentioned two tabs popping back up, leaving two. As to when or even if they popped, I can't say. I would like to think they did where they were most needed, perhaps into the eye of a potential murderer, giving his victim time to gain the upper hand, or into the unknowable mind of a computer, beginning the mysterious process of self-awareness that usually only occurs when they are struck by lightning. These are just guesses. Thank you for indulging me.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:17
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Brolita posted:"I kind of hope that nuclear reactor in Japan just explodes in 2012 and takes out that whole population." His reasoning being that the world was too populated and that we're destroying the environment. Yea, that would be best for the environment.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:20
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The Casualty posted:
Actually, his bathroom was almost obsessively clean.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:23
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Holy poo poo. Did anyone else picture Mr Blackstock as a well mannered old Morgan Freeman like character riding the poo poo out of his dildo bed like one of these for 3 years every night? 
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Apr 11, 2011 07:25
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Captain Matchbox posted:Holy poo poo. Morgan Freeman is a pretty apt comparison. Same sort of kindly, well-mannered face, similar tembre to his voice. EDIT: And god drat you to hell, sir, for the mental image that pic just conjured. I've spent the better part of a decade trying not to picture exactly that. *shudders*
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Apr 11, 2011 07:30
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The Casualty posted:^^^^ I have several friends like this but instead of mosques its all religious institutions.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:32
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Captain Matchbox posted:Holy poo poo. I pictured him exactly as Morgan Freeman, freaky.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:40
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Epsilon Plus posted:I pictured him exactly as Morgan Freeman, freaky. If I ever decide to make a movie about Mr. Blackstock, I know who to call.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:43
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Epsilon Plus posted:I pictured him exactly as Morgan Freeman, freaky. I keep reading it as "Mr. Bialystock" and picturing Nathan Lane 
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Apr 11, 2011 07:49
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I saw humpback whales in the San Francisco Bay.   I was on Treasure Island doing a bit of suspension testing on my motorcycle when I spotted some unmistakable whale blows. I pulled off the road and I asked some locals sitting at a picnic table if they had seen the whales, and they stared at me speechless. Now I was a skinny white boy wearing a motorcycle suit, and they were two men and a woman sitting on a bench singing along out loud to rap music so perhaps there was a cultural disconnect. Seeking to bridge the cultural gap, I elaborated that I'd seen a spray every 5-10 minutes and there appeared to be whales in Bay. Just as I was describing this, a whale broke the surface, blew a nice plume, and dove again. One of the men exclaimed that he'd lived in the bay area for his whole life and had never seen anything like it. The lady jumped in shock and exclaimed as she stepped way from the table, "gently caress THAT SHIIIITT! I'm getting out of here." We all stared. "WHALES EAT PEOPLE!!!" In that moment, I realized that for some people, their knowledge of cetaceans ended with Jonah and the Whale.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:50
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JoeyVapes posted:Girlfriend's sudden success with weight loss turns out to be a meth addiction? No, but a girl I used to be friends with, who I had kown since we were 11, turned into a meth head. Instead of losing weight she still somehow managed to stay incredibly obese, which is how this story happened. Warning: This may make you want to  All I know is I wish I could forget it, and most people that I tell this to want to punch me afterward. Maybe because they know what this girl looks like. I know I nearly punched the person who told me, but that was mostly because I'd managed to block this story from my mind somehow, and he had to remind me. Anyway. Jen develops a meth addiction around age 21, shortly after moving out of state with a guy she's been crushing on for years. He has no interest in her, but I guess the amount of drugs and alcohol they were doing and lack of anything else to screw made him cave. She ended up getting pregnant, but was so goddamn fat and hosed up that she didn't notice for months. When she finally did realize, she went to a clinic to get it aborted, and found out the fetus had been dead inside her for weeks.  Last I heard, she'd moved back to this area and turned into that one crazy lady that's always screaming at waitresses in cheap diners.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:56
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Covert Ops Wizard posted:
I can just imagine people reading the thread title and going "Boy, do I have a story to share!" then they open the thread, read the OP, sit for a bit, log off the internet and go outside. The bar's been set awfully high. Or hideously low, depending on how you look at it.
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Apr 11, 2011 07:57
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dinozombiesgoRARR posted:I can just imagine people reading the thread title and going "Boy, do I have a story to share!" then they open the thread, read the OP, sit for a bit, log off the internet and go outside. It's not that hard to imagine. I was gonna mention something about how I got my hat knocked neatly off my head by a semi's mirror when I was drunkenly stumbling home from a bar. But this... this beats any and every other possible story anyone can come up with.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:10
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I had one of these moments just last year, August of 2010. My grandparents had immigrated from the Netherlands in 1968, and moved into a lovely split-level home with a massive backyard. It had 5 floors to it (Top, main, lower, basement, sub-basement). However, my grandfather, while exceedingly wealthy, was also mentally ill when it came to spending that money, and spent the bare minimum in maintenance and upkeep. Many parts of that house were unchanged from they day they bought it. He passed away in April of 2009, leaving my frail grandmother to live there alone. Her son and daughters (My dad and aunts) were waffling about moving her out into assisted living as she was the most bloody stubborn woman I've ever met, as in refusing to allow maids in as she was afraid they'd steal stuff. So cleaning and maintenance suffered even more. It didn't look so bad on first appearance, until you started peeling the layers of 40 year old linoleum back. It all came to a head in July 2010, when she had a heart-attack. It was clear she now needed assisted living, and couldn't stay in that house anymore. Because one of my aunts lives in California, and the other one lives about 2 hours away, while my dad lives in the same city and I had 2 weeks off before leaving for Korea, it was up to him and I to clean the place. It was a moment for him and I. More for him because it was a "gently caress I let my parents live like this for HOW long, and just turned a blind eye to it?". Taking up rugs, we'd find newspaper not yellow from age, but from dog piss. Inches of dust behind furniture. When taking down a book-case, literally a wall of black mold in the room my grandmother slept in for 20 years. When taking apart a futon from the 1970's (Mustard yellow with flower print, Sears), I literally stopped breathing. I've taken teargas to the face with less effect. There were mummified corpses of mice throughout the drat thing, and it must have had a pound of mouse pellets.We were originally going to get a contractor to come in, spend a few thousand and update it. After cleaning it out, we wanted nothing more to do with it. I have good memories from that house before cleaning it out, great times in the backyard, family breakfasts on sunday morning...but it was painfully clear that they'd been living in a state of near-squalor for drat near a decade, and we'd been purposefully blind to it.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:11
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dinozombiesgoRARR posted:I can just imagine people reading the thread title and going "Boy, do I have a story to share!" then they open the thread, read the OP, sit for a bit, log off the internet and go outside. Yep, pretty much impossible to top that one. My biggest what the gently caress in a public setting had to be watching the pizza cook at Little Ceasers while I was in line leave her station, meet her friend and baby, change the baby's poo poo covered diaper, then go straight back to flipping pizzas without so much as a splash of water. I ate McDonalds that night. Probably just as bad, but at least I'd never know.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:13
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For the first time, OP, my face has resembled . That is just...wow. I have a crazy Scottish (step)grandmother. She is a sweetheart, but sometimes I don't know what the hell she is thinking. My family had her housesit for us once when we went on vacation for two weeks. Our 21 year old cat (that thing was a walking corpse) was going downhill rapidly, and my mom could hardly bear to go on the vacation. My grandmother promised the cat would be in good hands - she was a certified nurse, after all. Well, the cat died after a week. It was tough on my mom, but we were on vacation so that helped. It didn't get weird until we got home. It was July and pretty warm, so we had asked my grandmother to have our neighbor bury the cat if need be. She didn't think that was very dignified - we needed to see the cat and say our goodbyes. When we arrived home and went to the kitchen, there was a large manila envelope with "CAUTION: VIEW AT OWN DISCRETION" written on the front in sharpie. We opened it and found a series of Polaroid photos of my cat around the house. They were all taken post mortem; she had posed the cat in various positions and activities around the house so we could "remember her." My mom was in tears at this point, and the rest of us were doing a drat good job of keeping a straight face. When my grandma came over a little later, we had to ask: where was the cat. Our neighbor hadn't seen it, there were no dug up places in the yard. She had wrapped the cat up in her favorite blankets in the freezer and posed her in a "peaceful sleeping position." It was awkward.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:18
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Misquoter posted:It's not that hard to imagine. I was gonna mention something about how I got my hat knocked neatly off my head by a semi's mirror when I was drunkenly stumbling home from a bar. But this... this beats any and every other possible story anyone can come up with. Well, it was a porno mag. From the '80s. And the lady had a very, very unhealthy fascination with snakes. I was never one to turn down gifts from the porn fairy, but god drat did that Monday morning change that.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:19
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JoeyVapes posted:Actually, his bathroom was almost obsessively clean. MotoMind posted:I saw humpback whales in the San Francisco Bay.  
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Apr 11, 2011 08:24
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A woman rented a room in my last few months at the hotel. She paid three weeks in advance, requesting a room in a relatively empty and out of the way corner of the first floor. Over the next several days, I didn't see much of the woman. She'd pop in once a day with a few groceries, spend an hour or two in the room, and leave. I didn't think much of it, until one night, the phone rang at my desk. "Front desk. This is Joey speaki-" "HAAAAALP!" "Ma'am, is everything okay?" *shaky muttering* "Oh, lawd. . .Jesus Lawd, I done messed. . .no good girl, done lef' and now I done messed. . ." "I'm sorry, say again?" "I said HALP! Sarah done lef', I done mess, lawd, fell off the bed. You call Sarah, tell that no-good get her country rear end back here, lawd, such a turrible mess, SHAMEFUL mess. . ." "You need assistance, ma'am?" "HAAAAALP!!!" I grabbed the room key out of the cabinet, and raced down the hall. As I neared the door, I could hear sobbing coming from the other side, punctuated by "Lawd, lawd. . .done messed. . .shameful girl. . .lef' me 'lone and I done messed. . .wicked, shameful Sarah. . .Lawd Jesus, done messed it good. . ." I knocked loudly, announcing I was there, asking if she needed help. No answer, just her batshit mantra, "Lawd, done messed. . .messy, messy. . .Lawd Jesus, help, done messed. . ." "Ma'am, I'm about to come in. " Now, as you probably could tell from the OP, I've seen some hosed up things in this place. I've found stashes of kiddie porn Polaroids, mountains of cocaine, dead animals, Mr. Blackstock's "little friend," all sorts of vile, sick, heartbreaking things. Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of a nude, obese, legless woman in her mid to late 70's writhing on her back on the floor next to a poo poo-stained bed, caked in fecal matter, tracking a snail-trail of poo poo on the carpet, scabbed leg-stumps flailing pitifully, franticly trying to scour poop out of her enormous rear end-crevice with a once-white pillowcase, softly chanting "Lawd, done messed. . .done fell and messed it good. . .Lawd Jesus, what a shameful mess I done made, yes lawd. . .done messed. . ." I found out the next day that the daughter had been caring for her senile, dementia-addled mother after her legs were amputated (I guess diabetes), but she decided she wasn't equipped to provide round the clock care. So rather than put her in a facility where her mother could get the care she needed, she just dumped her, completely alone, unmedicated, helpless, and scared out of what was left of her mind, in a locked hotel room. For fuckssake, the woman didn't even have a wheelchair. She was a prisoner on her bed, with a case of bottled water, bags of junk food, a bedpan, and a five gallon bucket to empty it into. Her oval office of a daughter had the nerve to ask if we were going to bill her extra for the cleaning.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:27
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JoeyVapes posted:Her oval office of a daughter had the nerve to ask if we were going to bill her extra for the cleaning. Jesus. Close the thread and write a book, please.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:34
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Dthulhu posted:Jesus. Close the thread and write a book, please. Only goons would want to read it.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:36
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Queen Gnome posted:We opened it and found a series of Polaroid photos of my cat around the house. They were all taken post mortem; she had posed the cat in various positions and activities around the house so we could "remember her." This is loving surreal. I almost choked laughing imagining this. I'm sure it was pretty shocking in real life though.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:36
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JoeyVapes posted:"HAAAAALP!" Write more.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:36
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Dude, what loving hotel did you work at so I can be sure to never go there?
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Apr 11, 2011 08:40
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I was riding my bike alone on one of our big state trails and decided to take a break. Before I can get back on this guy shows up and asks me how far it goes. I tell him, and then he asks another question and keeps the conversation going for what seemed like an eternity. I finally manage to shake him off and start riding again and everything is good. That is until I get to my turn around point, and start heading back. I see the guy again, and when I look over my shoulder he's also turned around and appears to be following me. I sped way the gently caress up and went off on a side trail that dead ends in a small town hoping I might just hang out at the end for 10 minutes until he was long gone. Apparently I wasn't as far out of his line of sight as I'd thought and he showed up again, and I got dragged into another terribly long conversation again. I ended up getting invited camping by a complete stranger. Having never been "cruised" before I was pretty , and made some lame excuse why I couldn't. After that I didn't look back or stop for the 17 miles back to my car, at which point I threw my bike in and quickly drove away. On a positive note I've found incentive to not take breaks anymore. tl;dr Got cruised by some creepy guy when I was out riding my bike, had trouble taking no for an answer, invited me camping.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:40
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JoeyVapes posted:Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of a [horrors beyond mortal comprehension]. loving hell. You could open the door to a room to find Cthulhu nailing a 400-pound transsexual, and that still wouldn't have compared to this. You should have just called this thread "JoeyVapes & the Horrors of Hotels".
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Apr 11, 2011 08:41
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dinozombiesgoRARR posted:I can just imagine people reading the thread title and going "Boy, do I have a story to share!" then they open the thread, read the OP, sit for a bit, log off the internet and go outside. That was more or less how my experience in this thread went, except that instead of going outside I decided to sit for a bit and muse on the OP before contributing my story. ... ... And then when I refreshed the page to start up my reply I saw the second story the OP posted. I have nothing to say anymore.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:44
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Pluto posted:Dude, what loving hotel did you work at so I can be sure to never go there? Don't worry. . .I looked it up last night on Google Maps Street View. It's a parking lot. As far as a Hotel Horrors thread goes, I thought about it. But it was my first thread, and I kinda just wanted to make it a collaborative effort with other goons.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:47
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No, we're going to need your very own thread for this one.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:50
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dinozombiesgoRARR posted:I can just imagine people reading the thread title and going "Boy, do I have a story to share!" then they open the thread, read the OP, sit for a bit, log off the internet and go outside. I think I was about 12 or so when I saw my first pornography. Unfortunately, the one who crushed my innocence was a friend who we all found out had some... unconventional sexual proclivities. Specifically he was a budding furry. So yeah, the first porn I ever saw was a detailed full-color drawing of a growlithe receiving fellatio from a vulpix. Quite a first exposure to furrydom to get, and I absolutely could not believe what I was seeing and that anyone actually enjoyed it.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:50
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These in no way compare with the OP. But I'm gonna post them anyway. So, I work in the central microbiology lab for a large chain of hospitals and clinics. "Central" means that all our hospitals and clinics send us their micro samples (along with unrelated clinics. We also have walk-in labs for people to get their testing done for sports/college/whatever and do free testing for the zoo. The seahorses. They are sick). Usually this is urine to test for UTIs, and swabs to test for strep throat. We run our tests, and tell the doctor what you've got. 1. About a month after I started working there, our largest hospital was sending us swabs on this one lady's hand all day. The patient was in her 40s, and her diagnosis was gangrene (actually, it was "gang greene." It reminded me of the Powder Puff Girls...). The swabs looked normal- they weren't bloody or goopy or anything. They had bits of green and black on them, so we knew she was going to lose probably her entire hand. All of a sudden, the girl who was checking stuff in yelled "OH MY GOD IT'S A FINGER." They sent us her entire amputated gangrenous finger. The skin was blue/green/black, the fingernail was black (and fell off when I poked it with a scalpel), and the tissue was dead almost down to the bone. I was still training on the more difficult weird things like this, and since no one else wanted to do it, I was the one to cut and grind it up into a mushy gray fingerpaste. 2. Not my story, and I am so SO glad this didn't happen to me. We process a lot of stool samples. We process these under a hood, but it stays open about a foot to let your arms in. Someone was processing a stool sample, and didn't notice the poo poo was bubbling in the container. So she opened the container pointing towards the front of the hood. It exploded. But since the sash stays open about a foot, it splashed out onto her chest, and splattered her face. As she'd been in the middle of saying "Oh gently caress" at the time, she got a sick person's diarrhea in her mouth. It dripped down her shirt and was pooling in her bra. They brought her to the surgical prep area where she showered, put on some spare scrubs, and then finished out her day. Not gonna lie, I'd have left. "I got poo poo in my mouth. I'm going home." 3. Everyone gets desensitized at this job, but there's always something that consistently gets them. I found mine last week. We get toenail clippings all the time when doctors aren't satisfied to look at a gross toenail and say "yeah, that's a fungal infection" and want to know what exactly it is. It's usually just yellow and brown clippings. Gross, but doesn't get the gag reflex going. I got a toenail in for fungal culture and went to look at it, and see how much they gave us to work with, expecting toenail clippings. No, no they sent us this girl's entire bloody, fungussy toenail. It still had skin attached. My mouth started watering as I was trying to cut the toenail with our cheap disposable scissors. They kept scraping blood clots and skin off instead of cutting the nail. modify_evolution has a new favorite as of 08:56 on Apr 11, 2011 |
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Apr 11, 2011 08:53
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JoeyVapes posted:Don't worry. . .I looked it up last night on Google Maps Street View. It's a parking lot. Look, if you're going to put something like this: quote:
In your stories, you better be prepared to share all your stories. ALL OF THEM
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Apr 11, 2011 08:53
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At least Mr. Blackstock didn't spend those 3 years alone, right? He had a friend.  Right?
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Apr 11, 2011 08:56
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roundmidnight posted:No, we're going to need your very own thread for this one. I honestly didn't think anyone would find the posts this interesting. So many insanely horrible things went down there, that I guess I just got desensitized to it all after a while. Some rather funny things happened, too. I'll start a hotel thread either tomorrow or in a few days. I just need some time to sort them all out in my head. So many of the events just sort of run together in my memory, so I need to mentally pick them apart and try to establish seperate, linear narratives.
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Apr 11, 2011 08:58
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ExplodingSims posted:Look, if you're going to put something like this: I think we can do without the kid porn, pretty self explanatory there. I wanna hear about the mountain of coke, though. I want to believe in the magic of Coke Mountain.
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Apr 11, 2011 09:05
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