.webp?x=8 "Current Thing (support) - Slava Ukraini!")
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- 6
Some of this might be wrong, but I think I got most of the interesting points. Dude's dug himself a pit and there's not going to be any good way out of it, I think. It's split up based on the timestamps in his description
00:00 Does he even know how much money he makes?
Weird stuff at the beginning where he doesn't want to show his eyes, location or age.
Works at a tesla factory
Financial situation is "pretty wonky"
06:11 Tax fraud?
Left last job because he didn't want to get vaxxed
Didn't waste money paying taxes on the interim job
08:49 Weird expenses?
Two credit cards
$358 in road tolls, includes late fees? He stalled them to the point of being threatened with court?
10:11 You have NO MONEY!!!
$3049 in, $5000 out
"I've been... you could say... investing"
"I used to budget" "I've maxed all my credit cards" "I used to have thousands money in my savings. All those thousands absolutely gone." "I had to close my savings, in fact I didn't close it myself, the bank just completely deleted it."
11:43 Rent is 60% of his income
"Undisciplinary actions on a mutual basis when it comes to sharing rent, for sure"
- His former roommate (family member, brother) ditched him and left him with the lease
Back and forth about whether the roommate is in fact fricking him over by leaving him with the rent bill
- The answer seems to be a Yes but apparently it's consensual
Lease ends in a few months
17:53 You have NO MONEY!!! p2
19:53 Going massively into debt for a dream
Big money spent on audio equipment, paying in installments
Learning audio engineering
Just finished paying off a second(?) $1200 subwoofer
Splurged a little on audio software plugins
"I've had chances to make money but I did not at the time receive money"
- He refused payment because he wasn't satisfied with the quality of his own product
- He refused payment because he wasn't satisfied with the quality of his own product
Believes he will make a thousandfold return on investment
- Has sunk at least 20k into this
26:33 150% utilization on credit cards!!!!
31:54 DebtCHAOS
One is over $5400 and the other is $2697
$1700 over his credit limit, they're still letting him purchase on it
- $129 interest on that in November? Not sure I heard this right
"Once I learned I could [spend over the credit card limit] it kinda just set this mentality that I could just do it and then pay it off"
$6 under the credit limit on the other one
Got declined on a $1 purchase
0% interest until early spring on Credit Card 2
Been recently building up hardware collection, started out on software but moved onto hardware
34:00 Hidden car debt....
Car loan
More than 60% paid off
4% rate
Cosign on the initial purchase, refinanced under his own
2018 Chevy
35:31 Do you even have a financial future at this point?
29:50 Are you willing to sacrifice at all?!
Mostly backstory stuff
Had some health problems during the moving job which made him quit
Been cutting back on fast food
41:51 Clean up this MESS
44:03 Rent is 60% of his income p2
roughly 1900 on rent on a roughly 50k income? Not certain I heard this one right
Long defense of the brother because the brother has helped him out bigly in the past?
50:22 Broke forever...
52:35 Hammer Financial Score
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- 10
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.
It had a perfectly round door like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. The door opened on to a tube-shaped hall like a tunnel: a very comfortable tunnel without smoke, with panelled walls, and floors tiled and carpeted, provided with polished chairs, and lots and lots of pegs for hats and coats - the hobbit was fond of visitors. The tunnel wound on and on, going fairly but not quite straight into the side of the hill - The Hill, as all the people for many miles round called it - and many little round doors opened out of it, first on one side and then on another. No going upstairs for the hobbit: bedrooms, bathrooms, cellars, pantries (lots of these), wardrobes (he had whole rooms devoted to clothes), kitchens, dining-rooms, all were on the same floor, and indeed on the same passage. The best rooms were all on the left-hand side (going in), for these were the only ones to have windows, deep-set round windows looking over his garden and meadows beyond, sloping down to the river.
This hobbit was a very well-to-do hobbit, and his name was Messiah. The Manlets had lived in the neighbourhood of The Hill for time out of mind, and people considered them very respectable, not only because most of them were rich, but also because they never had any adventures or did anything unexpected: you could tell what a Messiah would say on any question without the bother of asking him. This is a story of how a Messiah had an adventure, found himself doing and saying things altogether unexpected. He may have lost the neighbours' respect, but he gained-well, you will see whether he gained anything in the end.
The mother of our particular hobbit... what is a hobbit? I suppose hobbits need some description nowadays, since they have become rare and shy of the Big People, as they call us. They are (or were) a little people, about half our height, and smaller than the bearded Dwarves. Hobbits have no beards. There is little or no magic about them, except the ordinary everyday sort which helps them to disappear quietly and quickly when large stupid folk like you and me come blundering along, making a noise like elephants which they can hear a mile off. They are inclined to be at in the stomach; they dress in bright colours (chiefly green and yellow); wear no shoes, because their feet grow natural leathery soles and thick warm brown hair like the stuff on their heads (which is curly); have long clever brown fingers, good-natured faces, and laugh deep fruity laughs (especially after dinner, which they have twice a day when they can get it). Now you know enough to go on with. As I was saying, the mother of this hobbit - of Landlord Messiah, that is - was the fabulous Marsey, one of the three remarkable daughters of the Old Bussy, head of the hobbits who lived across The Water, the small river that ran at the foot of The Hill. It was often said (in other families) that long ago one of the Marsey ancestors must have taken a fairy wife. That was, of course, absurd, but certainly there was still something not entirely hobbit-like about them, - and once in a while members of the Bussy-clan would go and have adventures. They discreetly disappeared, and the family hushed it up; but the fact remained that the Marseys were not as respectable as the Manlets, though they were undoubtedly richer. Not that Marsey ever had any adventures after she became Mrs. Messiah. Bungo, that was Landlord's father, built the most luxurious hobbit-hole for her (and partly with her money) that was to be found either under The Hill or over The Hill or across The Water, and there they remained to the end of their days. Still it is probable that Landlord, her only son, although he looked and behaved exactly like a second edition of his solid and comfortable father, got something a bit queer in his makeup from the Bussy side, something that only waited for a chance to come out. The chance never arrived, until Landlord Messiah was grown up, being about fifty years old or so, and living in the beautiful hobbit-hole built by his father, which I have just described for you, until he had in fact apparently settled down immovably.
By some curious chance one morning long ago in the quiet of the world, when there was less noise and more green, and the hobbits were still numerous and prosperous, and Landlord Messiah was standing at his door after breakfast smoking an enormous long wooden pipe that reached nearly down to his woolly toes (neatly brushed) - Pizzashill came by. Pizzashill! If you had heard only a quarter of what I have heard about him, and I have only heard very little of all there is to hear, you would be prepared for any sort I of remarkable tale. Tales and adventures sprouted up all over the place wherever he went, in the most extraordinary fashion. He had not been down that way under The Hill for ages and ages, not since his friend the Old Bussy died, in fact, and the hobbits had almost forgotten what he looked like. He had been away over The Hill and across The Water on business of his own since they were all small hobbit-boys and hobbit-girls.
All that the unsuspecting Landlord saw that morning was an old man with a staff. He had a tall pointed blue hat, a long grey cloak, a silver scarf over which a white beard hung down below his waist, and immense black boots. "Good morning!" said Landlord, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Pizzashill looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat. "What do you mean?" be said. "Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is morning to be good on?"
"All of them at once," said Landlord. "And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!" Then Landlord sat down on a seat by his door, crossed his legs, and blew out a beautiful grey ring of smoke that sailed up into the air without breaking and floated away over The Hill.
"Very pretty!" said Pizzashill. "But I have no time to blow smoke-rings this morning. I am looking for someone to share in an adventure that I am arranging, and it's very difficult to find anyone."
I should think so - in these parts! We are plain quiet folk and have no use for adventures. Nasty disturbing uncomfortable things! Make you late for dinner! I can't think what anybody sees in them, said our Mr. Messiah, and stuck one thumb behind his braces, and blew out another even bigger smoke-ring. Then he Bussy out his morning letters, and begin to read, pretending to take no more notice of the old man. He had decided that he was not quite his sort, and wanted him to go away. But the old man did not move. He stood leaning on his stick and gazing at the hobbit without saying anything, till Landlord got quite uncomfortable and even a little cross.
"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.
"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Pizzashill. "Now you mean that you want to get rid of me, and that it won't be good till I move off."
"Not at all, not at all, my dear sir! Let me see, I don't think I know your name?"
"Yes, yes, my dear sir - and I do know your name, Mr. Landlord Messiah. And you do know my name, though you don't remember that I belong to it. I am Pizzashill, and Pizzashill means me! To think that I should have lived to be good-morninged by Marsey Bussy's son, as if I was selling buttons at the door!" "Pizzashill, Pizzashill! Good gracious me! Not the wandering wizard that gave Old Bussy a pair of magic diamond studs that fastened themselves and never came undone till ordered? Not the fellow who used to tell such wonderful tales at parties, about dragons and goblins and giants and the rescue of princesses and the unexpected luck of widows' sons? Not the man that used to make such particularly excellent fireworks! I remember those! Old Bussy used to have them on Midsummer's Eve. Splendid! They used to go up like great lilies and snapdragons and laburnums of fire and hang in the twilight all evening!" You will notice already that Mr. Messiah was not quite so prosy as he liked to believe, also that he was very fond of flowers. "Dear me!" she went on. "Not the Pizzashill who was responsible for so many quiet lads and lasses going off into the Blue for mad adventures. Anything from climbing trees to visiting Elves - or sailing in ships, sailing to other shores! Bless me, life used to be quite inter - I mean, you used to upset things badly in these parts once upon a time. I beg your pardon, but I had no idea you were still in business." "Where else should I be?" said the wizard. "All the same I am pleased to find you remember something about me. You seem to remember my fireworks kindly, at any rate, land that is not without hope. Indeed for your old grand-father Bussy's sake, and for the sake of poor Marsey, I will give you what you asked for."
"I beg your pardon, I haven't asked for anything!"
"Yes, you have! Twice now. My pardon. I give it you. In fact I will go so far as to send you on this adventure. Very amusing for me, very good for you and profitable too, very likely, if you ever get over it."
"Sorry! I don't want any adventures, thank you. Not today. Good morning!
But please come to tea - any time you like! Why not tomorrow? Come tomorrow!
Good-bye!"
With that the hobbit turned and scuttled inside his round green door, and shut it as quickly as he dared, not to seen rude. Wizards after all are wizards.
"What on earth did I ask him to tea for!" he said to him-self, as he went
to the pantry. He had only just had break fast, but he thought a cake or two and a drink of something would do him good after his fright. Pizzashill in the meantime was still standing outside the door, and laughing long but quietly. After a while he stepped up, and with the spike of his staff scratched a queer sign on the hobbit's beautiful green front-door. Then he strode away, just about the time when Landlord was finishing his second cake and beginning to think that he had escape adventures very well.
The next day he had almost forgotten about Pizzashill. He did not remember things very well, unless he put them down on his Engagement Tablet: like this:
Pizzashill 'a Wednesday. Yesterday he had been too flustered to do anything of the kind. Just before tea-time there came a tremendous ring on the front-door bell, and then he remembered! He rushed and put on the kettle, and put out another cup and saucer and an extra cake or two, and ran to the door. "I am so sorry to keep you waiting!" he was going to say, when he saw that it was not Pizzashill at all. It was a dwarf with a blue beard tucked into a golden belt, and very bright eyes under his dark-green hood. As soon a the door was opened, he pushed inside, just as if he had been expected. He hung his hooded cloak on the nearest peg, and "Dramamine at your service!" he said with a low bow.
"Landlord Messiah at yours!" said the hobbit, too surprised to ask any questions for the moment. When the silence that followed had become uncomfortable, he added: "I am just about to take tea; pray come and have some with me." A little stiff perhaps, but he meant it kindly. And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?
They had not been at table long, in fact they had hardly reached the third cake, when there came another even louder ring at the bell. "Excuse me!" said the hobbit, and off he went to the door. "So you have got here at last!" was what he was going to say to Pizzashill this time. But it was not Pizzashill. Instead there was a very old-looking dwarf on the step with a white beard and a scarlet hood; and he too hopped inside as soon as the door was open, just as if he had been invited. "I see they have begun to arrive already," he said when he caught sight of Dramamine's green hood hanging up. He hung his red one next to it, and "911roofer at your service!" he said with his hand on his breast.
"Thank you!" said Landlord with a gasp. It was not the correct thing to say, but they have begun to arrive had flustered him badly. He liked visitors, but he liked to know them before they arrived, and he preferred to ask them himself. He had a horrible thought that the cakes might run short, and then he-as the host: he knew his duty and stuck to it however painful-he might have to go without.
"Come along in, and have some tea!" he managed to say after taking a deep breath.
"A little beer would suit me better, if it is all the same to you, my good sir," said 911roofer with the white beard. "But I don't mind some cake-seed-cake, if you have any."
"Lots!" Landlord found himself answering, to his own surprise; and he found himself scuttling off, too, to the cellar to fill a pint beer-mug, and to the pantry to fetch two beautiful round seed-cakes which he had baked that afternoon for his after-supper morsel.
When he got back 911roofer and Dramamine were talking at the table like old friends (as a matter of fact they were brothers). Landlord plumped down the beer and the cake in front of them, when loud came a ring at the bell again, and then another ring.
"Pizzashill for certain this time," he thought as he puffed along the passage. But it was not. It was two more dwarves, both with blue hoods, silver belts, and yellow beards; and each of them carried a bag of tools and a spade. In they hopped, as soon as the door began to open-Landlord was hardly surprised at all.
"What can I do for you, my dwarves?" he said. "Edbutteredtoast at your service!"
said the one. "And Snallygaster!" added the other; and they both swept off their blue hoods and bowed.
"At yours and your family's!" replied Landlord, remembering his manners this time.
"Dramamine and 911roofer here already, I see," said Edbutteredtoast. "Let us join the throng!"
"Throng!" thought Mr. Messiah. "I don't like the sound of that. I really must sit down for a minute and collect my wits, and have a drink." He had only just had a sip-in the corner, while the four dwarves sat around the table, and talked about mines and gold and troubles with the goblins, and the depredations of dragons, and lots of other things which he did not understand, and did not want to, for they sounded much too adventurous-when, ding-dong-a-ling-' dang, his bell rang again, as if some naughty little hobbit-boy was trying to pull the handle off. "Someone at the door!" he said, blinking. "Some four, I should say by the sound," said Snallygaster. "Be-sides, we saw them coming along behind us in the distance."
The poor little hobbit sat down in the hall and put his head in his hands, and wondered what had happened, and what was going to happen, and whether they would all stay to supper. Then the bell rang again louder than ever, and he had to run to the door. It was not four after all, it was FIVE. Another dwarf had come along while he was wondering in the hall. He had hardly turned the knob, be-x)re they were all inside, bowing and saying "at your service" one after another. Colin_Robinson, Chiobu, Chapose,HardIsLife, and MarseyIsMyWaifu were their names; and very soon two purple hoods, a grey hood, a brown hood, and a white hood were hanging on the pegs, and off they marched with their broad hands stuck in their gold and silver belts to join the others. Already it had almost become a throng. Some called for ale, and some for porter, and one for coffee, and all of them for cakes; so the hobbit was kept very busy for a while. A big jug of coffee bad just been set in the hearth, the seed-cakes were gone, and the dwarves were starting on a round of buttered scones, when there came-a loud knock. Not a ring, but a hard rat-tat on the hobbit's beautiful green door. Somebody was banging with a stick!
Landlord rushed along the passage, very angry, and altogether bewildered and bewuthered-this was the most awkward Wednesday he ever remembered. He pulled open the door with a jerk, and they all fell in, one on top of the other. More dwarves, four more! And there was Pizzashill behind, leaning on his staff and laughing. He had made quite a dent on the beautiful door; he had also, by the way, knocked out the secret mark that he had put there the morning before. "Carefully! Carefully!" he said. "It is not like you, Landlord, to keep friends waiting on the mat, and then open the door like a pop-gun! Let me introduce Eleganza, Aevann, Maydaymemer, and especially Carpathian!" "At your service!" said Eleganza, Aevann, and Maydaymemer standing in a row. Then they hung up two yellow hoods and a pale green one; and also a sky-blue one with a long silver tassel. This last belonged to Carpathian, an enormously important dwarf, in fact no other than the great Carpathianflorist himself, who was not at all pleased at falling flat on Landlord's mat with Eleganza, Aevann, and Maydaymemer on top of him. For one thing Maydaymemer was immensely fat and heavy. Carpathian indeed was very haughty, and said nothing about service; but poor Mr. Messiah said he was sorry so many times, that at last he grunted "pray don't mention it," and stopped frowning.
"Now we are all here!" said Pizzashill, looking at the row of thirteen hoods-the best detachable party hoods-and his own hat hanging on the pegs. "Quite a merry gathering!
I hope there is something left for the late-comers to eat and drink! What's that? Tea! No thank you! A little red wine, I think, for me." "And for me," said Carpathian. "And raspberry jam and apple-tart," said Eleganza. "And mince-pies and cheese," said Aevann. "And pork-pie and salad," said Maydaymemer. "And more cakes-and ale-and coffee, if you don't mind," called the other dwarves through the door.
"Put on a few eggs, there's a good fellow!" Pizzashill called after him, as
the hobbit stumped off to the pantries. "And just bring out the cold chicken and pickles!"
"Seems to know as much about the inside of my larders as I do myself!" thought Mr. Messiah, who was feeling positively flummoxed, and was beginning to wonder whether a most wretched adventure had not come right into his house. By the time he had got all the bottles and dishes and knives and forks and glasses and plates and spoons and things piled up on big trays, he was getting very hot, and red in the face, and annoyed.
"Confusticate and bebother these dwarves!" he said aloud. "Why don't they come and lend a hand?" Lo and behold! there stood 911roofer and Dramamine at the door of the kitchen, and Snallygaster and Edbutteredtoast behind them, and before he could say knife they had whisked the trays and a couple of small tables into the parlour and set out everything afresh.
Pizzashill sat at the head of the party with the thirteen, dwarves all round: and Landlord sat on a stool at the fireside, nibbling at a biscuit (his appetite was quite taken away), and trying to look as if this was all perfectly ordinary and. not in the least an adventure. The dwarves ate and ate, and talked and talked, and time got on. At last they pushed their chairs back, and Landlord made a move to collect the plates and glasses. "I suppose you will all stay to supper?" he said in his politest unpressing tones. "Of course!" said Carpathian. "And after. We shan't get through the business till late, and we must have some music first. Now to clear up!" Thereupon the twelve dwarves-not Carpathian, he wa
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“You'll be alright. Just stop squirming honey, lay still,” Orpah said.
Samson lay on his back on the hot rocks beside the rugged rock path of Sonder Mountain. The sun was flaming intensely, laying a blanket of heavy heat over them. His leg was bent awkwardly, unnaturally, so much so that a lick of the white of his bone could be seen through his shin.
“Calm down honey,” Orpah soothed him, leaning the water flask into his mouth.
The yelling had stopped. Samson had screamed and yelled in pain until his vocal cords were bloody. It was obvious that there was no one else on the path, and with nighttime fast approaching, unlikely it was that the situation would flip. Orpah took off her top, leaving her in just her skimpy white vest, before soaking it in water and laying it over Samson's forehead. The sky was a deep shade of orange. It would have been quite beautiful to look at if the situation was different, less dire perhaps. Orpah knew she would be able to find help at the bottom of Sonder Mountain. But that was easily a three-hour hike, and with night looming over them, she couldn't risk leaving Samson at the mercy of the coyotes. Not while his leg dripped blood and he dipped in out of consciousness, driven hysterical from pain. So she remained at his side, lovingly combing her fingers through his long hair as she tended to his needs.
“They'll notice we aren't there at dinner and come out looking for us. I'll start a small fire to make us a tad more visible,” Orpah said.
Samson gritted some form of acknowledgment through his gritted teeth. His face was almost as pale as his knuckles. Pain like this, it was nothing he ever felt before. It had him contemplating death, wondering whether a life with this amount of agony was one worth cherishing, worth fighting for. Was death not void of all such suffering? But he held on to life, if only for Orpah and her beautiful face, the love she evoked within him, and the tenderness of her touch.
“Go… find… help,” Samson managed to utter without opening his jaw.
Orpah looked up at him.
“Light the fire… and go find help… it'll keep the… coyotes away,” Samson explained.
“Are you sure?” Orpah asked.
Samson nodded. His leg had gone numb from the pain. The feeling of being stabbed over and over again was so consistent it had become a non-factor, like when noise is so ceaseless it becomes soothing or when you wear your glasses for so long you forget they're on. The first few stars twinkled in the sky which was slowly turning from orange to black. Orpah reached into her backpack and pulled out a box of long matchsticks. The trail was mostly stones and sand, but Orpah managed to gather enough sticks to start a sizeable flame. She cordoned it off with a few rocks, kissed Samson on the forehead, and headed down the trail.
“I'll be back as fast as I can,” Orpah said.
The smoke from the flame was serpent-like, the wisps slithering sinisterly. Every moment remaining in consciousness was a conscientious effort. He was glad for the flame. The air had suddenly gone from sweltering to chilly which only made the pain worse. Suddenly he felt the ground shake. He wasn't sure at first; it was as subtle as can be. But it grew and grew until it was an undeniable tremor, as if a giant was walking in the vicinity. Samson didn't have to wonder too much before the source made itself known. A kangaroo hopped out from behind a rock. It was purple and had a flame on the tip of its tail.
“What the everloving frick are you?” Samson said aloud in fear, “what in the frick is that?”
The kangaroo looked at him, tilted its head, and smiled. About twenty crabs crawled out its pouch and scattered all over. The kangaroo stretched in relief. Samson tried to crawl away but failed. The kangaroo was still towering over him.
“I done carried them from Jupiter. Nasty lil buggers, those claws are nothing to be ignorin',” the kangaroo said in a raspy voice.
“What the actual frick is going on?” was all Samson could manage.
“S'pose now is a good a time as any for an explanation. My name is, well I aint got a name. No need for those on the dimensional plane I'm from. I've taken this form because your puny mind would never understand my true form,” it continued raspily.
Samson blinked hard twice. He was convinced this was some kind of hallucination, his mind playing tricks on him, insanity brought on by dehydration and deliria.
“I am the bringer of the gift of death. You can do nothing to earn it, nothing to lose it but like any other gift, you may decline it,” the kangaroo continued, but this time in a different voice like a lady.
“How do I know you're real?” Samson managed to ask.
The kangaroo paused for a while, thought, and then answered.
“On the sixteenth of December your wife Orpah was asleep and you wanted a sandwich. You were too lazy to make it yourself so you opened a jar of Nutella and ate directly from it, you ate it all Samson, all. You got sick the next day and denied eating it. You told Orpah that from the bottom of your heart you didn't do it. But you did,” the kangaroo said in a different voice yet again.
It was as though the kangaroo was having great fun altering its voice each time. Perhaps more out of embarrassment than anything else Samson admitted to himself that indeed the kangaroo was not a figment of his imagination. The entire situation fell into the category of ‘too strange to be fiction'.
“So… am I dead?” Samson asked tentatively.
“Only if you want to be,” the kangaroo replied casually.
Samson lowered his eyebrow, his forehead creased. He was flummoxed.
“Death is a gift, as I have said. You can accept it or reject it,” the kangaroo explained.
He held his long tail in his hand, swinging it around casually.
“And, uhm, if I choose death? What would happen, I'm not saying that's what I want, but if I did choose death, what would happen next?” Samson asked, making very sure to emphasise that he wasn't asking for death.
“I don't know. I've never died. I'm only the collector of souls. I can tell what will happen if you choose life though,” the kangaroo said.
Samson shrugged.
“Oh c'mon, the same old,” said the kangaroo, “pain, misery, discontent, disappointment. Amidst it all a few moments of love and happiness. I've seen a lot of lives in my job. No matter where you are, how you live, it's always the same. Just a different variety of it.”
Samson paused for a while. He had forgotten about his broken leg, something that tends to happen when you have a kangaroo from the realm of death before you. A sly thought crept in his mind.
“You said that death is a gift, right?” Samson queried.
“Indeed.”
“Then, like any other gift, I could pass it on, couldn't I?”
“I s'pose.”
“Then I give my gift to Orpah,” Samson said resolutely.
The kangaroo looked at him, vexed.
“Your own wife? Well that's certainly a new one,” the kangaroo said.
“If death truly is a gift, I would not want my last action to be something as selfish as running away from the strife of the world. If my wife takes it, I will know she loved death more than I. If she rejects the gift, then this will be a life worth living. I don't know, it makes sense in my head,” explained Samson.
“Very well then.”
And the kangaroo stuck its purple hands out, waved them and uttered a magical spell. The sky lit up in a million colours. And then the kangaroo was gone. Samson lay there in the darkness of the night with only the flickering of the flames as his company. No one came until morning when the mountain ranger came around for his morning route. In a state of semi-consciousness, all Samson remembered was being lifted up and put into the back of a pickup truck. He swung in and out of consciousness and found himself on a soft bed, his leg raised in a cast in some sort of log cabin. The ranger and Orpah stood over him.
“He almost died,” he heard the ranger say.
“Oh my poor honey,” Orpah said, “I'm so grateful you saved him. How can I ever show my gratitude?”
“Well there is one way,” he heard the ranger say smugly.
A bit of whispering and a bit of giggling and Samson heard the sound of something oddly similar to the clank of a metal belt buckle hitting the ground. They left the room.
Samson wanted his gift back.
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1. How to stoically forgive myself after a hanging attempt? 🥺🥺🥺
How to Stoically forgive myself for attempted suicide?
My health problems felt so hopeless that I believed I had no other option but to end my life.
So, I spent four nights trying to hang myself. (Partial suspension with foot/bum/knees always on the ground.)
It didn't work, and now I'm only in greater shame, self-hate, and health anxiety for what I did.
I'm paranoid that I have neck/brain damage. I went to the hospital (they did no scans) and then later got a carotid artery ultrasound from my GP - which came back perfect, yet I'm still in deep fear that the neck pain will never go away and will be a constant reminder of this shameful decision. What makes it worse is that I did this to myself. Suddenly, my other health problems don't feel so bad.
I'd love some help forgiving myself and believing the doctors that I will be okay and the pain will go away.
Since doing this four weeks ago, I'm terrified that this will define the rest of my life. Especially if the pain never goes away.
2. Is my neck okay after hanging attempts? 😰😰😰
Is my neck okay after hanging attempts?
I am deeply ashamed and won't try this again, but I tried to hang myself for several nights. I tried partial suspension hanging - meaning my feet, bum, or knees were always on the ground.
I went to the hospital, and they did no scans and said I was okay.
I also went to my GP who ordered a carotid artery ultrasound and that came back perfect.
Does this mean I escaped any long term neck or brain damage?
Or do I need to get an MRI or other tests?
As all I can think about is that I'll have to suffer the pain of this terrible mistake for life. Which is making life heck.
I'm terrified my neck will never be the same again.
3. Would a neck MRI clear me from hanging injuries? 😱🤔🤔
Male. 42. 85kg. 183cm.
Anxiety and depression.
Valium.
I'm in deep shame and paranoid that I've ruined my neck for life after attempting partial suspension hanging (I always had my feet, bum, or knees on the ground) over several nights. I never passed out.
I went to the hospital, and they did no scans or tests. But my GP did a carotid artery ultrasound, which came back clear.
But since then I still have neck pain (along with other symptoms like ear and swallowing pain) and extreme anxiety, so I'm wondering if a neck MRI is the best test to clear me of everything I'm worried about completely - so I can finally get back to living.
Thank you for your time. I've been living in pure fear and regret since. I'm very sorry.
4. How do you still enjoy life with Peyronie's Disease? 😞😞🍆❌
Since getting this disease I have not been able to enjoy a second of life. Having this disease with all the shame that goes with it has destroyed me. And now that I also have pain, I have no idea if having a life worth living is possible. I know I ask a lot of everybody on here, but I'd love to know how those who manage to still have a life worth living with Peyronie's Disease manage to do so. What are your secrets? As I keep seeing suicide being my best choice to be done with this cruel curse.
5. Psychologist said Peyronie's Disease is so bad that no therapy could help 🤒😮😮💨
I'm very much hoping she is wrong.
But as said in the title, my new psychologist said that she thought Peyronie's Disease was simply too devastating of a disease for any type of therapy to help men cope.
It made me feel ever more doomed - and basically confirmed it's all over, with suicide being the only medicine.
6. Best easy-to-understand Stoicism books on Audible? ☺️☺️🎧
I have a lot of Audible credits, so I'm looking to spend them on some great and easy-to-understand Stoicism books. Likely suited to a beginner.
I'm after guided books like How to Think Like a Roman Emperor rather than the straight texts.
As I need all the help I can get trying to understand all this!
7. Why has no cure been found for Peyronie's Disease? 😤😤😡
What makes this curse so darn impossible for medical science to treat? Also, are people currently working on new treatments? Or has the medical community given up all hope?
8. Need help coping with an extremely embarrassing disease 😭😭🏳️⚧️✅
Sorry to reach out like this, but my own reading and journaling doesn't seem to be working - so I'd love some advice from you lot on how to use Stoicism to cope with a disease that I feel has completely ruined my life.
It's called Peyronie's Disease, which has left my peepee bent and unusable. It's notoriously difficult to treat. And it's not something you can talk with anybody about.
My thinking problems are that I no longer feel like I'm a man, I feel like my life is completely ruined and is not worth living anymore, I feel that I'll be forever alone, and I worry that this will never be healed - and that I'm cursed for life and broken.
I also keep having thoughts that no man would carry on living with a disease like this.
Again, sorry for the rant, but I'm desperate to find some Stoic relief if that's possible.
9. Does caffeine tablets cause diarrhoea like coffee? 💩💩💩
Struggling with long-term carnivore diarrhoea so cut coffee. Wondering if I can take caffeine tablets, or they cause diarrhoea too?
10. Basic one I'm stuck on. How can I possibly be happy with horrible illnesses? 😞😞😞
I'm new here and have been reading “how to think like a Roman Emperor” as well as watching Einzelgänger on YouTube.
For a bit I thought I was making mild progress.
Perhaps I'm just tired, but today I was bombed by the thought that my chronic illnesses 100% prevent me from being happy, so I'm excluded from the benefits of Stoicism. I was stuck and couldn't seem to find anything that I've read so far to help me out.
However, I'm sure I'm missing something very basic here and I would love some help finding relief and getting back on track.
Thank you!
11. Sticky, dark poops. 🤣🤣🤣🤣 (I'm sorry but this is just too many emotions to put in 3 emojis)
I'm 34 days in.
I only pass stools every three days or so, but they are now dark and incredibly sticky/impossible to wipe, requiring a shower.
They are also soft, small little nuggets. Which I guess is better than the diarrhoea it's been since day one?
Wondering if this is okay/normal and I'm fine to keep up this WOE and things will right themselves eventually?
Thanks all.
12. Anyone treat Peyronie's disease with carnivore? 💪💪💪
I know this is a long shot, but I'm wondering if anybody had or has heard of people have any success treating Peyronie's disease with carnivore? As it does sound like the disease is from inflammation.
12 (Extended) Here's a short explanation of the disease:
What is going on? - If you have Peyronies, you have a condition that caused your body to replace normal elastic tissue in your peepee with non-elastic scar tissue called plaque. It has no association with plaque in your arteries or elsewhere in your body. You have Peyronies when your body forms scar tissue in the peepee in places where it is not needed to heal a wound. It replaces normal elastic tissue, often far from any injury, and it can cause deformity, much like putting a piece of Scotch tape on a balloon and then blowing it up. The resulting deformity can be a bend, narrowing or dent, or shortening of the peepee. If you have scar tissue at the site of real damage on the peepee that is NOT Peyronies Disease. That is a normal healing process as long as the scar tissue does not spread over healthy tissue. Be aware that most bends are just natural variations from one peepee to another and are not Peyronies Disease. A peepee is seldom perfectly round and straight any more than noses are all the same shape.
14. Can carnivore help fibrosis conditions? 😞😮☺️
I'm trying to treat Peyronie's Disease, and unfortunately there's VERY little treatment options.
So, I'm hoping going carnivore could be the silver bullet to treat fibrotic conditions like this.
15. Starter stack for treating peyronie's disease 🤣😂😆😄😃😊☺️🙂🤭🤨😒🤔🧐😐😑😕🫤🙁☹️😧😦😮😯😲🫨😵💫😵😰😨
I'm going to be proactive and get started on treatment while I wait to see a urologist.
Is there anything I'm missing? I would love your thoughts on my battle plan.
SUPPLEMENTS
CoQ10 – 400mg daily
L-Arginine – 3 grams daily
Acetyl L-Carnitine – 3 grams daily
Taurine – 1.5 grams a day?
K2 and D3 – once a day capsule.
DRUGS
(Also, I'll ask my GP for:)
5mg Cialis.
Pentox.
LIFESTYLE
Carnivore diet (zero carbs)
Daily walks.
No smoking.
No alcohol.
CONSIDERING
I'm now thinking of adding:
Ginkgo Biloba
Silymarin
Bilberry
Propolis
OTHER
I'll wait until I see the urologist before starting any traction/stretching/vacuum therapy.
!r-slurs our god has arrived
- 5
- 15
Sorry for the lack of updates. I know each and every one of you have waiting for the next episode of the saga. It consumes your every thought. It's the first thing you think of when you wake up. Let's get to it!
Recap: Phillip Schofield was a presenter on British television. He had spent his whole life in media, and most notably hosted This Morning with HOLLY WILLOUGHBY.
Phillip Schofield came out as gay a few years ago, and he left behind his wife of several decades and his two daughters. Brave! Recently, Schofield admitted he had an inappropriate relationship with a young man on ITV. He had also gotten this man a job. Though Schofield insists that the sexual stuff only happened when the boy was of age, there is evidence that they knew each other since he was 10. This has given rise to rumors that even if it was legal, there was some grooming involved.
LATEST EVENTS
1. AUBERGINEGATE
Lets begin with Auberginegate. Journ*lists hounded the head of ITV for comments on the Schofield saga which has gripped the world. The response? "Do you like Aubergine?" For Yankees, aubergine is eggplant AKA the PEEPEE EMOJI. What did he mean by this? Is it code for something? Trolling? Who the frick knows!
The response got the attention of British parliament.
2. WHAT DID THE HEADS OF ITV KNOW?
The heads of ITV were grilled by MPs in parliament. This is an event that will dictate the future of our species. It will affect Holly Willoughby's career!
During the meeting, ITV chief executive Dame Carolyn McCall told MPs the affair was "deeply inappropriate", but that she had not had evidence until recently. ITV director of television Kevin Lygo told the MPs: "He looked me in the eye and promised me that there was absolutely no truth whatsoever in this, in the rumours of this relationship."
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
AUBERGINEGATE WAS MENTIONED
https://www.bbc.com/news/entertainment-arts-65889240
3. HOLLY WILLOUGHBY SURVIVES SCHOFIELD DRAMA
Holly has returned to her rightful throne as the queen of daytime British television. Unemployed brits on benefits, stay-at-home mums, and folks waiting in dentist offices can once again rest assured that Holly Willoughby will be on that screen goddammit.
While she has returned, it is just not the same. Without Pip beside her, there aren't as many cute giggles from her. She has had a few co-hosts, but it seems Dermon is destined to be Phillip's replacement.
Will schofield off himself? Will ITV survive this scandal? What the frick was the aubergine comment about? What about Holly?! Stay tuned for more updates. Please like, share, and subscribe, and don't forget to hit that bell icon to be alerted as soon as a new video drops. Patreon and link for merch in the comments below. Peace.
- 19
- 16
Donna Peepeeens was a pop culture writer covering mostly Star Wars. Her Twitter was https://twitter.com/mildlyamused until banned in 2018. Basically your typical goober-gate era online feminist.
Today
Donna's not writing much, instead spending her time spreading conspiracy theories on TikTok under https://tiktok.com/@momllennial_, with 95k followers. She's talking about how the Roman empire is an invention of the Spanish Inquisition, Alexandar the Great was a womxn, Pompeii never erupted, blacklights were ancient technology, etc. The conspiracies are often centered around white supremacy, fasciscm, or other leftist concepts. She uses a lot of stupid TikTok filters, is very condescending, and overemphasizes her movements like an anime girl. I also have a feeling her glasses, hair color, and messy hairstyle are an attempt to appear older or more scholarly.
TikTokers have confirmed she never graduated with any degree, despite her TikTok profile.
Examples of the Roman history conspiracy
Source materials to prove existence of ancient Rome can be dismissed because of eugenics and fascism
"Ancient Roman architecture" was built by Nazis
Actual historians (Roman history and otherwise) aren't happy
Matta_of_fact's response regarding a piece of art <-- great example of how Donna makes stuff up & responds to people
Maklelan's response regarding Torah
Batdoeshistory's response regarding Pompeii
The main event
https://tiktok.com/@theaidanmattis (Aidan Mattis) has spent more time responding to Donna's videos than anyone. This led to her making a video calling Aidan a white supremacist based on this college article. She also said followers of Aidan tried to dox her, so she called the state police.
In context: Aidan, as a founding member of the campuses's TPUSA chapter, was quoted in response to a student's (from a different college) request to rent space at the uni to have Richard Spencer give a talk. Aidan appeared to be uninvolved in the event but stood for freeze peach.
In response to the defamation Aidan is going to file a cease and desist on Donna.
Lastly, Miniminuteman is pressed enough by Donna's behavior that he's going to consolidate all the TikTokers into a single Youtube video to take her down.
Addendum
The OG user momllenial (no underscore) is also pissed at Donna
- 2
- 18
NONCE HUNTERS ON TERF ISLAND
What crime is more despised in society than pedophilia? Anyone who endangers or harms children is instantly stigmatized, sometimes even killed. It's easy to understand why - kids are innocent and they are our future.
Many blokes around the world have taken it upon themselves to hunt these people and shame them. In modern day, murder isn't acceptable, so they shame them online. If you've kept up with nonce hunting scene in the UK, you'll know a few of the key groups and their incestuous history with each other.
To my understanding, Chris Hansen is the OG. His influence cannot be captured in a single graph. He importantly influenced Stinson Hunter in the UK who spearheaded the nonce hunting on TERF island. Stinson had a good run, but he eventually tried other shit that didn't work. He did, however, usher in the first “wave” of nonce hunters, and it's easy to say that Shane Brannigan and Sarah Doherty (internet interceptors) were the stars.
They had some beef together and mutually destroyed one another. Internet interceptors split up with many of the members trickling into other groups such as Predator Exposure and Guardians of the North.
I'd like to show you some of my favorite p-dophile hunters from the UK and the good stings they have done. The article would have been longer but unfortunately, I stopped paying attention to the scene for a few years and come back to discover that most of the good ones have been scrubbed off the net. Nevertheless, there are still some good ones, but not the best ones.
I apologize that they are not all YouTube, as some videos are only available on Facebook. Trust me, they are worth the watch.
Shane Brannigan
If you've been in the nonce hunting scene of the UK for a while, you'll recognize Shane Brannigan as one of the OG p-dophile hunters. He has a bit of a backstory and he looks like true Norfwood mate. He was abused sexually as a child and the police never believed him. It's screwed his brain because he is psychotic in his methodology.
For many of the p-dophile hunters, you can tell they are doing it for clout. With Shane, it's clear that it's personal. You can tell he is using all his willpower to stop himself from literally killing the p-dophiles in front of him.
During Shane's heyday, he had the best videos online. He had the men terrified, and he'd often make them phone their wives. Sometimes, he would pair up with Sarah Doherty, who is another very aggressive p-dophile hunter. I used to know the story between these two and the fallout they had, but it was years ago and many of the videos have been scrubbed from the internet.
From research and memory, I have been able to piece together the story a bit, but I can't confirm the details because the videos of them talking about it themselves are gone. The point is, they eventually had beef, and Shane knew something about Sarah that made her quit p-dophile hunting altogether because she was afraid of it getting exposed.
If anyone has the tea, please share. There are also blogs online that try to cover it, but it's hard to tell what's real because some of them could be p-dophiles trying to besmirch the hunters who ruined their lives.
https://thetruthaboutshanebrannigan.blogspot.com
Here are the best stings from him:
a) Andy Salter
This is one of the best stings out there. Nice and clean, and ends with an arrest. It occurs in a confined space, which adds to the tension. Shane yells at the man, and he gets scared. Then Shane calls the female decoy who calls him a dirty c*nt.
b) Keith Goldswain
Another good, clean sting. One of the highlights of this video is that you can see the visceral fear in Keith's eyes, voice, and trembling hands. It's a sight to behold, and it makes you excited as well. He trips over his voice trying to defend himself but it's for nothing because he's banged to rights.
c) Andrew Sealey
This is a favorite of mine. Andrew Sealey is caught with his wife trying to pick up a child. The wife stays by the husband's side, so Shane attacks her as well. He gives no shits, and he doesn't mind being a woman disrespector.
https://www.facebook.com/100063234669608/videos/371419923332931
Shane calls Andrew a nonce and Andrew's like “I've been called worse” lol.
For more Shane goodness you can watch a BBC documentary about him.
Guardians of the North
These guys used to be my favorite nonce hunters. I like the leader and his thick accent. They take no shit from the p-dophiles and they make fun of them and humiliate them. I like this group because although it is obvious they enjoy the clout, they seem to do things by the book (mostly). They also have some pretty entertaining stings under their belts.
A wild Holly appears! Holly has interviewed these lads!
These are the stings you need to watch:
a) Praju Prasad
This is a short but good one. They catch an Indian man and he immediately begins the head-bobbing motion like a bobble-toy. He gets on his knees and begs for mercy, but they want none of it. They force him to get on his feet because they don't want him to be so pathetic.
b) Ali
The folks sting someone they know! It's a man who owns a restaurant. You can tell a bit of xenophobia seeping in because they say “your family was the only one I trusted, not anyone else” obviously referring to the predator's brown community.
It gets funny when they ask him “What would your Imam say?” And he is so ashamed he cannot answer the question. They also bring up the fact that Ali's father died in a fire saving others and Ali is far from a hero.
Once again, you can see the panic and it's strong. He knows his life is over, and he wishes he could turn back the hands of time but it's too late.
Stinson Hunter
This isn't the type of guy you want in your home. Stinson has a history of drug abuse and crime. However, he now gets to be high and mighty in comparison to p-dophiles. His videos are the cream of the crop when it comes to nonce stings, with perhaps Dark Justice being the only group that comes close.
A man he stung committed suicide and Stinson doesn't give a frick.
Most of Stinson's stuff has been zapped from the net, so I'll only post one.
a) Jonathan Rowland
A man comes on a bike to meet a child. He is stopped by Stinson. The man then proceeds to lie and claim he has been framed. It is funny because he is obviously lying.
https://www.facebook.com/100044427969945/videos/237262102441394
CONCLUSION
There's so many good stings gone forever. If you can help me please identify
indian caught and claims he just came to get KFC
Man ho owns a carpet store busted at work and he is made to call his wife
Man who is busted on Christmas at home and is kicked out by his wife
As I've mentioned in my previous post, I'm in the process of attempting to escape inceldom. I will share the results soon, and it'll be my longest post yet. I think you'll like it.
- 14
- 22
Academia represents both the best and worst in our species. It is through academic institutions have helped humans share knowledge, helping us to build on our already massive body of giants. It's a cliche statement but Isaac Newton was correct when he wrote “If I have seen further it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.” I've personally experienced this phenomenon, and with great gratitude, I thank past writers for the concepts and ideas that now inform my own writing. I may not be a literary giant in any sense of the word, but the work I produce for my personal enjoyment is a culmination of all I have learned from my predecessors.
On the darker side of things, academia is a highly bureaucratic system often molded by politics over knowledge. This type of environment tends to attract some of the worst kinds of people in society - intelligent but malicious. They crave the prestige of being part of the intellectual club - perhaps even adding the coveted Dr. to their name - and climbing the power structures.
Academia is far from the only place that functions in this manner, and I'm sure you can think of other workplaces that inevitably end up what millennials would call “toxic”. Many factors lead to this situation, and today I'd like to discuss just one element - mean girls.
To be clear from the outset, this isn't a post that aims to attack women or criticize their existence in the workplace. I believe that any country that doesn't allow women in the workforce instantly halves their intellectual capacity. I am focusing on one kind of woman in the workplace and the effects they tend to have.
With that being said, I do apologize if I come across as misogynistic at any point. If you feel that I am being sexist, please comment.
What is meanness?
Anyone has the capacity to be mean. We've all been mean at some point, some of us have done it today.
At this point, I should make something clear. Meanness, as we use them, refers to intentionally enacted cruelty. It requires a malicious mind, which we all have. So here's an example to show what I am attempting to illustrate. A soldier kills their enemy with a headshot. That's violent, but it's not mean. The soldier then walks up to their victim and spits in their face. Now we're dealing with meanness. The intent is cruelty for cruelty's sake.
An important aspect of cruelty is that the one acting cruelly expects to receive nothing except the knowledge that their target is in pain or suffering, either physically or psychologically. Another example. A group of soldiers gain access to the dressing rooms of their opponents. They take all the clothing and equipment to gain an edge in the war. That's not mean, that's warfare. They also collectively poop in the middle of the room. Now that is mean. They gain nothing but the knowledge that their opponents will be humiliated when they find a steaming shit. Cruelty for its own sake.
Taking things a little further, when we talk about meanness in the modern day, we almost are never referring to heinous acts. A mother abusing their child is mean, but we'd seldom call it that. We'd use a “stronger” word like heinous. If the mother pranks the child by waking them up with ice water, that's what we'd call mean.
What do mean girls do?
First, we'd need to outline what a mean girl is. These are women who have advanced into adulthood and continued high school behavior but with the benefit of experience and finesse. They're not going to trip you on the corridor, call you a b-word, or tell you to your face that you're not invited to their party. No, it's a different monster altogether.
When the mean girl acts, it's often so well-crafted that you can never truly call it out. Genuine cases of “microaggressions”. They're lawful evil, never breaking the rules as they break your soul. Oftentimes, it'll be years later and you'll still be hurt by what a mean girl said
because the statement itself was innocuous but obviously deeply insulting
. It's a trick women are particularly good at pulling off, and I'll give examples a little later.We need to talk about two species of mean girls - the equal and the senior.
The senior mean girl
When I mention the senior mean girl, I'm referring to a woman who is a higher rank than you in the institution. It doesn't have to be too much. She's just the project manager, for example. It gets worse, of course. The senior mean girl can be your boss, full-time supervisor, teacher, or department manager.
Carole Stephens states:
Mean girl behavior can be used to demonstrate the power a senior female attorney has over a novice female attorney. When treatment is flagrant, brazen, and unashamed, itcan be expressed in sexual harassment, physical abuse, biased hiring practices, or exposing women to a hostile, male-dominated workplace.
https://www.proquest.com/openview/f72a25218726baada8d740f118be4ff1/1
I've experienced such a mean girl. They weren't delusional about who they were and what they were doing. They explicitly told me “I like fighting”. I promise you they feel 0 guilt about what they do and in some cases they see themselves as morally justified. During my time in university, I got a glimpse of the environment. Holy shit, they literally make each other cry with their words, and scheme against each other for the same Chad. It's mind-blowing. My current workplace has like 2 women total and it's so based, none of this nonsense happens. Just goals to reach and shitposting on Slack. Women are incapable of constructing such a workplace. A majority female workplace will eventually involve someone making someone else cry.
Mean girls use the following strategies:
- Putting you in impossible situations
You are verbally given Section A of a task to complete. When you're done, you're scolded for not doing Section B as well. There are many other ways this can happen. The point is that you're made to seem completely incompetent for your inability to complete a task you were never fully instructed to do.
- Hanging their power over you
It's never explicitly stated of course. They'll never say “I'm the boss, you do what I say.” The threats are much more subtle. It'll be something like “if you keep doing that, we won't be colleagues anymore.” She is straight up telling you “do what I say or you're fired.” The consequence is that you know feel like you're walking on eggshells at work, terrified that you might piss her off. Of course, this behavior isn't exclusive to women, but it's definitely part of the mean girl arsenal.
- Displays of power
This can be as simple as standing over you as you work. You can't say anything about it because she's not doing anything wrong. But when you're sitting and someone is standing and looking down on you, it's obvious they want you to intimately know the power difference between the two of you.
Sometimes it's little verbal comments meant to make you feel small or stupid. For example, a meeting tomorrow begins at 8am. Mean girl: “And that means 8am, Sneedman. Alright?.” Nothing explicitly bad was said, but it was still an act of minimizing someone by suggesting they're so flawed they need special instructions to function.
- Public shaming and humiliation
This is perhaps the most powerful tool in their arsenal. A mean girl with power over you will never call you into their office for a private discussion if they have a problem. Instead, they'll wait for a meeting where all the staff is there, then you will be chastised.
They have to wait for a public crowd to start a full explanation of every frickup you've had at work. If they have enough power, it can be an astonishing thing to witness. When I was in university, I witnessed a woman with power completely eviscerate someone during a meeting, going full-on personal, to a room full of silence.
One of the biggest benefits of being the senior mean girl is that nobody can do anything about it. Nothing at all. If a senior mean girl snaps at you at work until you're trembling, then that's that. Nobody's going to help you nor will she face consequences.
There are so many ways to be absolutely vicious while still remaining perfectly within bureaucratic limits. They are the masters of putting up a finger to your face but never truly touching you. The senior mean girl can verbally attack you in a room full of people and nobody will help you for two important reasons:
1. They are afraid of becoming the next target
2. They don't want to lose their job or jeopardize their career
That's why co-workers will stay silent when they see bullying in the workplace. The bully controls their paychecks! You know what's going on is wrong but you also gotta eat.
The shaming game
Senior mean girls in power in academia will often play this game, and be sure that it is a game. It begins like this: You wait for a public event, somewhere liberals of your ilk will be convening. If it is a regular conference where academics give presentations followed by a crowd asking questions, you raise your hand, you point to your target, and you claim that they are a racist. Your reasoning doesn't have to be too strong. You can point to a single sentence taken out of context in a book they wrote a decade earlier. You can accuse them of saying something racist in the very presentation they were giving that day, whether or not the speaker intended to be racist.
The target is now caught in a Kafka trap. If they deny the claim, they seem more racist. If they admit it, they are now labeled a racist and may be shunned by the academic community. What happens next? Well, during my time in my department, some cried, some did actually fight back, sticking to their principles, but most were simply dejected, remained silent, and offered no rebuttal.
Mean girls are bullies in the truest sense. A bully isn't someone who attacks someone of the same power level. That's just a fight. A bully is someone who enacts cruelty on someone incapable of fighting back.
The consequence? You go to work walking on eggshells, afraid you might trigger the senior mean girl who genuinely has the ability to frick up your life on a whim. Never get yourself in this position. Always have an escape route, money saved, and don't tolerate mean girls in power for too long.
The equal mean girl
Most of the time, you'll be dealing with the equal mean girl. She works in the same office as you, maybe even the same job. On the surface, nothing is differentiating the two of you as professionals, but the mean girl will make sure you feel much smaller than them.
Her plan of attack is almost always shunning. The mean girl will never tell you to frick off. It's more subtle than that. You just don't get invited to events, then the mean girl makes it clear that you missed out by describing the event while you're in earshot. The pain of being shunned is the aim. She wants to upset you.
Shunning can also take the form of convincing you that nobody would want to work with you. It's not that you're arbitrarily being shunned - it's happened because you're deathly flawed in some way - you're too fat, not smart enough, you're a liar, and in some cases “you're a racist!”.
In addition to shunning, you also get gossip which is an insanely effective way to frick up someone's life whether you're male or female. I'm being serious, if you don't like someone and you can't fight them, spread rumors effectively instead.
The best rumors have an inkling of truth in them: “Sneedman visits the pig farm.” They then get twisted: “Sneedman fricks pigs, here is a picture of him going to the pig farm.” As many men wiser than myself have stated: when women want to hurt you, they go for reputational damage.
They may take a genuine flaw of yours - maybe you do lie sometimes. This flaw will then be magnified and spread to everyone to ensure that nobody even talks to you anymore. You're no longer a person who told a lie - you're a pathological liar, and nobody should speak to you ever because nothing you say is true. Viola! Now you have no reputation and you're shunned.
Lastly, mean girls are linguistic geniuses. They know how to say the perfect things with plausible deniability yet still clearly being harsh. I'll give you an example. Once a woman asked me why I'm vegetarian. I explained that I had read some books that changed my mind. Her response “Oh, so you just read those books.” There's nothing obviously objectional about that, but it's an obvious insult. Through this strategy, you are stuck with the pain of being insulted but with the inability to insult back without looking like the instigator.
Carole Stephens states it best:
Mean girl incivility encourages women to engage in unkind exchanges while remaining affable and approachable. The more socially adept a woman is, the better she is at engaging in mean girl incivility in a discrete way.
Conclusion
These tactics are psychologically damaging. Many don't recover from these experiences of being a target of mean girls at work. A lot of the research is geared toward mean girls doing it to each other, but rest assured mean girls can also frick up men.
With legs full of scars I have permanently darned myself to inceldom. Even if a woman did like my personality, she would still have to deal with the mess I've made of myself. The worst part is that I know it's not over. The darkness will return and I will crawl back to the razorblade as I always have.
I am forced to accept that I'll never experience intimacy and love with a woman despite craving it. In addition to being 5 foot 1, I am also covered in self-harm scars.
What does a hug feel like? I don't think I've experienced one this year. Also, have you ever dealt with a mean girl? I'd like to hear the stories.
- 17
- 25
As many probably know by now the Voice is the biggest drama to happen in Australia in years, and it's pretty much taken over my posting. However, the campaign has gotten complicated and self-referential enough that I would 100% understand anyone jumping in for the first time or even after missing a week's worth of news would be incredibly confused about everything. This is why I present- the FULL guide to the Voice! Below is what will be covered, feel free to skip to 3-4 if you just want the drama without the context
-
1. What is the Voice?
2. Who are the sides?
3. What is the Uluṟu Statement from the Heart?
4. What are the controversies?
If anything big comes up in the coming weeks/months I'll keep adding to this post, so save this if you want to stay up to date 
1. What is the Voice?
The Indigenous Voice to Parliament is a proposed advisory body to Parliament. It would be elected by and presumably composed of Aboriginals, and it would give advice on Aboriginal issues to Parliament and to heads of departments or the PM personally. The election process is apparently going to be weighted, with elders (the oldest members/heads of a tribe) as well as those living in "remote communities" (this is essentially code for still living semi-tribally in bumfrick nowhere) given weighted voting over the mayofied urban Aboriginals
.
It is important to note that the Government of the day both a) gets to frick with the Voice's composition, powers and process at will and b) can ignore any "advice" they get, HOWEVER they would not be able to get rid of it entirely. This is because the proposal is to put it in the constitution, which also means the Parliament can't actually just vote it in- the constitutional revision needs to be passed by referendum, and then the corresponding legislation setting it up gets legislated in afterwards. This does mean we have to talk about
1b. Referenda in Australia
Referendums in Australia do not pass by a simple majority vote. They pass by a) a majority vote and 2) a majority of Australia's 6 states (so 4/6). Territories count for the first count but not the second, so sucked in Canberra.
The proposed change is worded as follows-
In recognition of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples as the First Peoples of Australia:
There shall be a body, to be called the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice;
The Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice may make representations to the Parliament and the Executive Government of the Commonwealth on matters relating to Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples;
The Parliament shall, subject to this Constitution, have power to make laws with respect to matters relating to the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Voice, including its composition, functions, powers and procedures.
To which when the referendum day comes you can answer Yes or No. So remember- YES means nonchuds 
, NO means chuds .
We still do not know when the referendum day will actually come, although there are some considerations. Albanese (the Prime Minister) has to call the referendum for early 2024 by the latest, and has committed to holding it in 2023. Voting in September/early November is presumed to be out because that's when Aussie sporting finals are, which means all the 
will be too busy watching footy and drinking beers to care about the Voice. By law elections and referenda have to be held on Saturdays so that also narrows it down. Pundits generally say October 14, but it could well be in November.
2. The Sides
2a. Yes
The Yes campaign is headed by Prime Minister Anthony Albanese and his Labor Party (the centre-left party). In Parliament he is also supported by the Greens (left), the "teal" independents (rainbow capitalists) and a few members of the Liberal party (centre right, also known as literally fascism). Albanese brought the Voice as a policy to the 2022 federal election and won, although he mostly won because the PM at the time (Scott Morrison) had become for good reason despised by most of the population as a corrupt smarmy happy-clappy r-slur.
Albanese however is pretty much a fairly inconsequential career politician who has only ever rocked the boat with the Voice, and that was because it wasn't all that controversial a year ago lol. His Indigenous Minister who is currently doing most of the work to push this is called Linda Burney, who apparently isn't drunk when she talks despite the fact that she really sounds like it. She has essentially for the past few months been brought out for damage control whenever something goes wrong for the Yes campaign.
There are also a series of activists who are working towards Yes under the banner of "Yes23", of which I'll highlight two. Noel Pearson is the activist who is meant to get rightoids on board with the Voice, because he says things like "look if you pass the voice and nothing changes you can blame us Aboriginals for it" and "just give us responsibility for our own problems". On the other side there's Thomas Mayo
, who's a communist who hates Australia which is why rightoid 
have been focusing on him despite the fact he really isn't all that important, and I only mentioned him because he gets brought up a lot.
2b. No (chud)
The mainstream No campaign is headed by opposition leader Peter Dutton of the Liberal Party and his coalition partner the Nationals (rural rightoids), and supported in Parliament by fringe parties such as One Nation (gigarightoid lolcows). Peter Dutton is a former cop who became leader of the Liberals after they lost the election, and pretty much leads the rightoid wing of that party. Some state Liberal leaders are actually pro-Voice, so he hasn't gotten his party in line as much as Albanese has.
2c. No (
)
A fringe No group is the "Blak Sovereignty" movement, with its parliamentary head being Lydia Thorpe (a lolcow who I made a post about months ago). Their deal is that the Voice would surrender Aboriginal sovereignty to the colonial Australian government so should be avoided. Lol.
3. What is the Uluṟu Statement from the Heart?
The Uluṟu Statement from the Heart is a document published by a bunch of Aboriginal elders and activists in 2017 under a bipartisan program, that called for the Voice, plus Treaty (we admit the authority of the Crown in exchange for gibs) and Truth (a commission that's meant to tell all the bad things that happened during colonisation). The controversy here is on whether or not to count the meetings and notes that went into the signed first page- the meetings and notes call for reparations and all forms of other gibs, which the first page omits. The characters involved in the Statement from the Heart have also been scrutinised (this is where Thomas Mayo comes from for example). Albanese has committed to implementing the Statement in full.
4. Controversies
Controversies so far include but are not limited to-
the Voice becoming increasingly unpopular
Yes campaigners being communists
No campaigners being racists (some really were, some weren't really)
No ads showing Thomas Mayo begging for gibs (this is racist obviously)
National carrier Qantas putting vote yes on their aircraft
Other big corps supporting Yes
The mining industry supporting No (except it never did)
Whether the chud No or the Blak Sovereignty No would make the No official argument in a state-funded information pamphlet- chuds won
Whether the wording of the amendment would accidentally give the Voice power over the government of the day (it doesn't)
That's pretty much it, dramaussies tell me if I've missed anything big
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