quote:

One girl this troper knew in high school solved her particularly vicious Libby problems very succinctly. Ever see a 4 foot eleven girl wail on a decent-sized group of high school girls? All at once? With a good amount of cussing? And left at least three in tears? In the school cafeteria with tons of people watching? And get away with it?

quote:

This troper would like to point out that fashion sense does not equal personality. Some of the nicest people he knows dress in the goth style just because they like the clothes (and in truth having a bajillion pockets on your pants can be seen as beneficial) while some of the nastiest people he knows dress in what would be considered casual wear. Fashion is just another form of art.
In addition to the pants hat rival most backpacks in terms of carrying capacity there also the trenchcoats that border on a [[hyperspacearsenal]]. This troper knows a person who manages to lug arround pretty much every handyman tool you can think of with hardly any signs of it on the outside. Hammer, check, screwdriver, check, electric drill, check, spare battery for said drill, check, spade(don't ask...), check, various boxes of screws, nails, nuts, bolts, glue, check. The only downside is that the coat wheighs only slightly less then a full set of plate armor and will demolish any coathanger it comes in contact with.

quote:

This troper revels in being as such for her group of friends, to the point it's acknowledged. In fact, one friend once compared the two of them to Spongebob and Squidward. She attempts being the same for her family, but most often it fails, as the rest of the family usually snarks back. Scary thing is, she used to be known as the nice one of her friends. Turns out reality happened and she got sick of being stuck in her friends' stupidity.

quote:

This troper is in the same boat as your brother. Unless you're a member of my Nakama, you wouldn't know my sarcasm if it smacked you upside the head with a rubber chicken. I'm told it's because there's no sarcasm present in my tone of voice, but I'm convinced it's because almost nobody, especially at my hellhole of a school, is intelligent enough to understand my sense of humour when I get particularly snarky.

quote:

This troper, while a fire chief, had to deal with a pre-teen who had intentionally set a snowmobile on fire. Said kid's parents were trying to excuse it as a simple childish accident gone awry. Having been in a really bad mood for assorted reasons, I didn't want to lose my temper, but apparently the death glare came out and, within minutes, the kid was crying and promising never to do anything like it again and the parents were working out a deal to pay the owner for damages. A local police officer present asked if I could be borrowed next time they had an interrogation.

Khazar-khum posted:

Fire

Boywhiz88 posted:

watched the video and the guy yelling is insane. Would not be surprised if he was carrying a gun just to coax dood into fighting him and then having to use "self-defense."

Xen Tricks posted:

What's sadder, a troper pretending to be a fire chief or an actual fire chief posting this on TV Tropes?

Khazar-khum posted:

This troper would like to point out that fashion sense does not equal personality.

Leninboarrir posted:

Oh I totally agree. I just really laughed at the image of a biker knocking someone out, throwing his bike through said person's car....and nobody does anything?

quote:

Anyone who knows the slightest thing about Gabriel and me should have some idea of the typical clothes we wear every single day. I was wearing my blue striped print dress, covered decently from my ankles to the top of my neck. Gabriel was wearing a suit. Naturally, we were both also wearing hats. (I honestly can't even remember the last time I went outside and off the tiny property attached to my own home without a hat. Hats are just part of being dressed to go outdoors in Victorian culture.)

quote:

When Bryan's boss arrived, unlike Bryan he had both his first and last names on his name tag: Jake Tomlinson. He introduced himself as John.

"We don't allow costumes here," Jake/John Tomlinson barked immediately. "You're going to have to change."

"These aren't costumes," Gabriel and I told him. "These are the clothes we wear every day."

John Tomlinson made a face. "Well, historical dress​ if that's what you want to call it. Whatever you call it, we don't allow people to dress the way you are here. And take off your hats when you talk to me!"

Take off our hats? He is commanding a lady to take off her hat? I wondered if he even realized the profound level of insult in that command. To remove one's hat in the presence of superiors has been a social gesture of inferiority since the days of medieval feudalism. He was demanding that we recognize his superiority to us.

quote:

As John was escorting us out I couldn't help noticing that the vast majority of visitors freely wandering the grounds without molestation were wearing tank tops, flip-flops, and spaghetti-strap dresses. Meanwhile, Gabriel in his suit and I in my ankle-length dress with high collar were being ejected —effectively for dressing too decently. It seemed so ironic I asked John Tomlinson if it was Butchart policy to make Muslim women remove their hijabs.

Drunk Tomato posted:

ElGroucho posted:

Listen, I like playing dress up as much as anyone, but these people are loving retarded. I wish we could kick them off the planet.

quote:

Almost as soon as we got outside, we were approached by a large Muslim family —father, mother, grandmother, and lots of adorable children, all the women in hijabs. They stopped us and told us how nice we looked, and the father (whose English was the best) asked if they could take our picture. Of course we told them they could, and they were incredibly sweet and kind to us.
The difference between the way we had just been rejected by Butchart versus the way we were being welcomed by this random family was almost overwhelming —so much so that I had a hard time not crying again.
The grandmother spoke to me a little in French and reiterated how lovely it was to meet us. She had a beautiful accent that was unfamiliar to me, and after we parted ways I asked Gabriel if he had recognized the language they'd been speaking to each other.
"I was trying to," he mused, puzzling. "I don't know that it's one I've heard before..."
I tried to think of Islamic regions where French would be a likely second language for the older generation. "Do you think it might have been Persian?"
Gabriel looked surprised. "Maybe! Very cool."
"They were so sweet..." I teared up again.
"Definitely." Gabriel squeezed my hand reassuringly.

ghost emoji posted:

Victoria, B.C., Canada: Downs and ups on an anniversary trip —or, How we were denied entrance to Victoria's most famous garden for dressing too decently, yet still managed to find many lovely flowers in much better places




I don't think they should have been thrown out just for dressing funny, but this is written in such an obnoxious way that I can't believe any of it even happened.

quote:

This was not what we had dreamed of; this was not what we had come for; and this certainly was not what I had been willing to spend the equivalent of a week's worth of grocery money on.

Elblanco posted:

looking at the pictures in the link I can see why they were asked to leave. They honestly look like they're cosplaying or something. The dude's suit looks loving stupid and unprofessional as well.

LITERALLY A BIRD posted:

This is sticking out to me because she made a huge goddamn deal about how much money this trip was costing them. Buying the groceries to make a week's worth of dinners for two, plus some boxes of granola bars or whatever for snacks, costs me like 60 dollars tops

Jayme posted:

It seems from their website that they try to make at least some of their meals at home, but I'm pretty sure they'd go for the higher-priced organic and free-trade ingredients. They also have pictures up of snacks they've bought, which come in those old-timey tins that you pay out the rear end for.

hyperhazard posted:

You weren't kidding.

ghost emoji posted:

Victoria, B.C., Canada: Downs and ups on an anniversary trip —or, How we were denied entrance to Victoria's most famous garden for dressing too decently, yet still managed to find many lovely flowers in much better places




I don't think they should have been thrown out just for dressing funny, but this is written in such an obnoxious way that I can't believe any of it even happened.

Khazar-khum posted:

Pockets

TheKennedys posted:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0MW9Nrg_kZU


"you can't flow to Son Goku, I kaio-ken get it done" is worth all the ERB hate

shelley posted:

the This Victorian Life people are huge douchebags who are basically cosplaying idealized versions of what they think Victorian People were like, and then getting super buttmad when people go "why are you dressed like that"

Nckdictator posted:

This happened.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sqYV-GLnxQU

LITERALLY A BIRD posted:

This is sticking out to me because she made a huge goddamn deal about how much money this trip was costing them. Buying the groceries to make a week's worth of dinners for two, plus some boxes of granola bars or whatever for snacks, costs me like 60 dollars tops

Aphrodite posted:

Then he kicked the unconscious guy.

Aleph Null posted:

That is really sad. I mean, I don't believe it, but he could turn it into a decent short story if he wanted.

Next week on a very special episode of Outlander posted:

An open letter to my husband who yelled at me in public: I don’t care that you’re in therapy. I don’t care that you’re “working” with your therapist to think before you speak. I don’t care to hear your excuses, logic, or reasoning. I don’t care that you’ve “come a long way” because yelling at your wife in public is humiliating, degrading, embarrassing, and made me ashamed to be with you, to be your wife, and of myself.

Over the last three years, you have systematically tried (and succeeded) to break me down, and crush whatever self-esteem I have.

Until now.

Let me school you on a few things, son. Since you seem to have forgotten who I am, what I’m made of, and how lucky you are to have married someone like me, I feel like you need a refresher course.

I come from very, very strong stock, stronger than you could even fathom. Both sides of my family are Scottish. Both of the clans from which I have descended from are border Lords, and in some cases, nobility. We fought (and often won) fiercely. Both of my ancestral clans fought on the losing side of the Scottish civil war and the Jacobite Uprising, and they knew they were on the losing side. But they did not care, they just wanted to fight for what they believed in.

My grandmother (Moms’ side) was repeatedly raped by her father until she was seventeen. He came after her in a field. She pulled a Winchester rifle on him and told him that if he ever touched her again she’d castrate him. He never touched her again. She birthed five children at home, because the nearest hospital was over an hours’ drive away.

My grandfather (Dads’ side) made and ran moonshine during the prohibition. You might not think that’s much, a lot of people did. But they lived up in the mountains, and driving that sweet, sweet corn concoction down the mountainside- at breakneck speed so Johnny 5-0 didn’t catch them- was very dangerous.

My mom worked in a mans’ field, doing a mans’ job. She was told at first to do “what the rest of you women do” which was find herself a husband, then quit. She did not. When she got married and got pregnant, she was told to quit after the baby was born. They were horrified and disgusted because she wasn’t going to be perpetually pregnant and in the kitchen. She told them multiple times in which orifice they could stick their opinions, all with nary a hair out of place and a smile on her perfectly lipsticked mouth. She broke glass ceiling after glass ceiling, and the very mention of her name brings about respect now. Don’t think for a second I didn’t learn from her. (Though it seems I have failed her teachings.)

My Father was a stone-cold badass. My Father was Green Beret Special Forces. He then worked security at a nuclear facility. Later on, he decided he wanted to work with the nuclear material, not protect it. He literally has nuclear physicists for friends, and humbly admits he is nowhere near as intelligent as they are. He is merely happy to learn from them, and know that they’re his friends. Why? Because they don’t treat him as “less than”. From day one, he taught me to never, ever, ever accept someone who treats me as less than- and that includes you, dear husband.

Oh yes, dear husband the blood running through my veins is laced with Damascus steel. It’s high time you remember that.

When you met me all those years ago, I had my pick of men. I was young, full of life, vibrant and vivacious, and confident. But I didn’t just want a man. I wanted a husband and someone who would be a good father. I chose you. Quit making me regret that choice. Here’s the thing- I know I’m a damned good catch. I am incredibly beautiful, scarily smart, funny, witty, and charming. Per you, I am everything you have ever wanted. You seem to have forgotten that you won the jackpot of a lifetime when you married me. Even your brothers weren’t sure how “you managed to score her, bro, but drat you’re lucky.” Remember that? Didn’t think I overheard that, did you? If you keep this up, you’re going to lose your winnings. Here’s what will happen: every man you know will call you an idiot. Every man I know will be thanking God.

I’ve been a good wife to you, given you the child you so longed for, I’m a good mother, and I’ve provided a loving, peaceful home. You, conversely, have tried at every turn to berate and belittle me.

For a long time, I believed the BS you fed me. Until finally, I confronted you and you went to therapy. But you’re still a jackass. A jackass who yells at his wife in public. To quote Queen Bey: this is your final warning, you know I give you life. If you try this poo poo again, you gon’ lose your wife.

Wife: out.

ibntumart posted:

I wasn't sure about posting this in case the person really is in a bad relationship, but (1)their subsequent replies to people on their post has me convinced this is a troll, (2) the family history is written like snippets of a bad historical romance setting up the heroine's badassery, and (3) no sane person crafts and delivers a dénouement like this to their spouse in the first place.

quote:

My daughter starts middle school tomorrow. We've decorated her locker, bought new uniforms, even surprised her with a new backpack. But tonight just before bed, we did another pre-middle school task that is far more important than the others. I gave her a tube of toothpaste and asked her to squirt it out onto a plate. When she finished, I calmly asked her to put all the toothpaste back in the tube. She began exclaiming things like "But I can't!" and "It won't be like it was before!" I quietly waited for her to finish and then said the following:

"You will remember this plate of toothpaste for the rest of your life. Your words have the power of life or death. As you go into middle school, you are about to see just how much weight your words carry. You are going to have the opportunity to use your words to hurt, demean, slander and wound others. You are also going to have the opportunity to use your words to heal, encourage, inspire and love others. You will occasionally make the wrong choice; I can think of three times this week I have used my own words carelessly and caused harm. Just like this toothpaste, once the words leave your mouth, you can't take them back. Use your words carefully, Breonna. When others are misusing their words, guard your words. Make the choice every morning that life-giving words will come out of your mouth. Decide tonight that you are going to be a life-giver in middle school. Be known for your gentleness and compassion. Use your life to give life to a world that so desperately needs it. You will never, ever regret choosing kindness."

Henchman of Santa posted:

Henchman of Santa posted:

Farmland Park posted:

I was excepting some creepy Jesus-y "keep your virginity" story

Quote posted:

Decide tonight that you are going to be a life-giver in middle school.

puck puck goose posted:

Someone who names their kid Breonna probably actually did that

Farmland Park posted:

I was excepting some creepy Jesus-y "keep your virginity" story