Disrespect to a man is the WORST thing that could ever happen to him.
Seriously.
And if it occurs by a loved one, a family member, or someone you care about, it is an ARCH CRIME and unforgivable.
Often times, being a man, you have to deal with “everyone’s shit”. You take it, take it, take it, and then takes some more. You take it over and over and over.
But a man carves a place where he can “lick his wounds”. Often that is a family or a loved one. And disrespect by that person is unforgivable.
Watch this video.
Girlfriend’s Surprise Party Prank On BF Leads To An Even Bigger Surprise For Her…Getting Dumped!
Sheech!
Today…
What moment completely changed how you saw someone?
I was shopping one day with a friend, in a town we didn’t know too well. We ended up at a bright, new Dollar Tree, nestled in an upscale strip mall. We did our shopping, and when we returned to my car, I noticed a man on a broken down bicycle, towing a broken down little enclosure for his cat. Obviously he was very poor, and his cat looked to be very old.
As a cat lover, and just a run of the mill decent person, I left my friend in the passenger seat and said I’d be right back.
I went back in the Dollar Store and purchased a big container of orange juice, and a large pouch of cat treats ( I would have bought a more nutritional cat food, but they had none.)
When I returned, I gave the man the two items I bought, and he was very thankful. His cat ripped into those treats like he hadn’t eaten in days.
I returned to my car, only to find my friend boiling mad. How dare I leave her in the car like that? The old guy on the bike could have raped her! Her time was valuable and I had no business helping the guy! It was his own fault he was homeless!
I pointed out that there were shoppers everywhere, I was parked right in front of the very busy Dollar Tree, on a bright and sunny afternoon, and she could have locked the car doors if she was that afraid.
The rest of the day, she kept bringing it up, virtually ruining the shopping trip. She didn’t even pay me for half the gas that she said she would.
I never knew my friend was such a shallow, horrid little piece of work. The friendship ended that day, and to tell you the truth, I don’t miss her. I still think about the man and his cat, though.
Southern Barbecued Pork
Ingredients
- 2 onions, sliced
- 1 (4 to 5 pound) pork roast
- 5 to 6 cloves
- 2 cups water
- 16 ounces barbecue sauce
- 1 large onion, chopped
Instructions
- Put 1 sliced onion in bottom of slow cooker, then add meat, cloves and water.
- Put second sliced onion on top.
- Cover and cook overnight or for 8 to 10 hours on LOW.
- Remove bone and fat from meat.
- Put meat back into slow cooker.
- Add chopped onion and barbecue sauce.
- Cover and cook an additional 1 to 3 hours on HIGH or 4 to 8 hours on LOW, stirring 2 or 3 times.
- Serve on large buns.
What is the most catastrophic mistake made by an intern at a company?
This is not related to a tech internship, but is still a bone-head move by an intern that still gets brought up years later.
The CPA firm I worked for always hired 4 or 5 summer interns and they just got picked up to help on miscellaneous engagements as needed. When they didn’t have anything to work on, they were required to email the entire department with an “available for work” email so people would know they were free.
When one of the interns sent their email, another intern friend of his accidentally hit “reply all” with three simple words: Suck my dick.
The intern just told an entire department of 60-something people including partners, managers, department heads, etc. to “Suck it.”
It was magical. Everyone got the email at the same time and you could see heads start to come up over cube walls one by one like prairie dogs. Managers slowly stepped out of their offices and everyone just stared at each other in shock.
They now offer “reply all” training as part of intern orientation.
Scott Ritter: The West is Powerless! Russia Su-57, Su-34 & Hypersonic Weapons Cripple NATO Defense!
What is a “red flag” on the first day of the job that tells you, you might not like the job?
I had been bumped to a new school because class-size reduction had ended. I had an appointment with the new principal at 2:30. It’s August and school hasn’t started yet. I get there at 2:15 and the main office is completely dark. I go to the principal’s office and there is no one there.
I sit in the dark reception area until 2:45. A lady breezes by and says that school has not started yet and to come back later. She thought I was a parent. I told her I was her new teacher. She was surprised to see me and had either forgotten about our interview or never registered it.
Our meeting was short. I started a few weeks later. She was a terrible principal. She was rude and curt to all of us. She accused us of faking illness when we were sick. The list goes on and on. Two teachers had to go on mental health disability because of her. The District Office told her if anyone else had to go on leave, she would be fired.
She was given a vote of no confidence by the entire staff, which is extremely rare. We never saw her again. She said she retired to help her husband’s business, but she was fired.
I Met My Nemesis In Retrograde
Submitted into Contest #245 in response to: Set your story in a world where astrology and the movements of celestial bodies deeply impact the lives of inhabitants.… view prompt
C.B. Chribby
For those who aren’t practicing Outlanders, you probably don’t keep up with our sacred texts. This message fundamentally means, the person who spots you out in a crowd today is going to be a major player in the rest of your life.
As the ancient texts prophesied, Those who are to enter one’s life during the season of your opposite star sign are those who may be called upon by the moon. When the sign comes, and yes, it will come– the players will come into contact now and forever until their souls dance together in the heavens.
Thing is, I checked my calendar and I know that the combination of retrograde and Aquarius, the opposite season of my star sign, make this a very bad time for me. My eyes grow wide there on the sidewalk. I am careful not to look anyone in the eye and my vision is cast downward. I look to the shoes of the people around me and think to myself that any one of these people could be a potential lover or… the alternative.
We were told when we were young about great stories in which heroes and villains are constantly at war with one another for the sake of destiny. It wasn’t stories of Good and Evil but rather of star signs and their rivals. Like ancient gods, and that’s exactly what they are to us Outlanders, the stars pick champions and rivals. During the time of your star sign, luck is on your side. I have lived my whole life with that knowledge, as has everyone else.
One can only hope that when the moon chooses them, it will be when the moon would be in prograde and their star-sign would bask brilliantly down upon them: when you are at your strongest and best.
But this was all wrong. All wrong indeed. I shuffled through the crowded streets of Bortland and took note of every pair of shoes that passed me. A pair of sports shoes with clean, white leather; a pair of boat shoes with a hole in the left front; skate shoes pair with sparkling moons and stars; some sneakers with rust-colored dirt from a base-bat field.
Please no one look, please no one look.
I made it this way to work, five minutes late. I rushed into the back room and finally lifted my eyes from the floor. My coworkers were safe because we had all already met. If there was a chance that sparks would fly today it wouldn’t be with Travis from the bakery section.
Here, at Tomorrow’s Nobles, I have the sneaking suspicion that everyone is still waiting for their sign from the Moon. I don’t know the demographic of all of us employees but I can say for sure that we’re majorly Outlanders. I wear my sign of the crossed suns over my chest. Make no mistake, that’s covered up this time of year. I don’t want to risk the extra back luck I have by tempting fate with skin cancer from the sun or some lurker’s hungry eyes on my train ride home.
Either way, my emblem is tucked away beneath my apron as I position myself behind the register at the front of the store. Travis from the bakery gives a dull wave from across the foyer. I wave meekly back, still reminding myself not to draw too much attention.
That’s when Cassandra sneaks up behind me.
“Heya, Grace,” she says to me. I practically jump out of my skin as a little squeak escapes my lips.
I whirl around toward her.
She laughs, “Whoa, what’s up with you?”
“Hi! Nothing! Shush!” I sputter. Cassandra and I aren’t exactly best buds but I’d like to think that we might be one day. She has one of those cool wolf-cuts all the cool girls wear and I just look like a plain-Jane.
I glance around for customers and see that we’re virtually alone on this side of the store. I pull her in conspiratorially by the elbow. “It fucking happened.”
“What fucking happened?”
“The moon, dude. The Moon happened.”
She raises an eyebrow and it’s now that I realized I’ve never asked her if she’s an Outlander too. “Oh god, sorry. I forgot to tell you. I’m an Outlander and something really significant happened.”
“Well,” she scoffed, “It can’t be that significant. I read tomorrow’s news and there’s nothing out of the ordinary, although I was sad to see that Brooklands is closing down due to crappy sales–”
“No, no, I meant to me.”
“Meant as in ‘it already happened’?”
“Huh?” I ask.
She blinks, “What?”
I scrunch my eyes closed, “Damn, sorry, let me start over. I opened a fortune cookie and–”
“Dude! Seriously? While the moon is in retrograde??”
“Listen, I know, I know, I–”
“And weren’t you born in, like, August? Dude that’s extra bad luck–”
“I KNOW!” I whisper-shout.
Just then someone clears their throat. We both jump as there’s a man standing there, hot as the fires of Venus, a black leather and canvas jacket tightly wrapped around a muscular, toned frame. His dark eyes make traces over myself and Cassandra.
“Excuse me,” he says in the smokiest, deepest voice I’ve ever heard from a guy.
“Yes, hi!” says Cassandra like a schoolgirl. She glances between me and him. I feel my face melting off already.
“I needed some help and that, uh, ‘help desk–’” he actually makes the motions with his fingers “–was empty.”
“Oh!” says Cassandra, coming down a little from the shock of this striking man’s appearance from nowhere. “Yeah, what can I help you with?” I admire her ability to roll with the punches like that.
“Well, I was hoping if either of you could show me to the summoning section?”
“Cultural Mythos or Practicing?” asks Cassandra.
“You guys don’t have them together?” he snaps back. I’m starting to not like his tone.
“Well, one would be in our history section while the other is in spells and incantations,” I say, backing up my friend.
“Right,” he says. “Okay, well can one of you show me the way?”
“Sure! I–” Cassandra glances at me and back to him. “Actually, I need to be up here at the cash registers, maybe my friend here can help you!” I can tell she’s trying to be helpful, but I don’t want to spend more time with this guy. Something about his attitude doesn’t sit right with me, like he’s hiding something.
“Yeah, okay, it’ll be this way,” I say, rounding the register counter. I turn my head back to Cassandra and stick my tongue out at her. She just winks back.
This guy’s walk is about as cocky as his words. He walks as if leaning backward, swaying his arms in stride.
“So, how do you like your job here?” he asks.
“I couldn’t live without it,” I say dryly.
“Hm, so would you say you like working here?”
“I can’t imagine working anywhere else, honestly. Here we are! The history section, subsection, summoning!”
“Oh, I was hoping to see the Practice section, actually. Never specified, sorry.”
“Oh, um. Yeah, it’s gonna be this way.” I pass through a few book-bays and we finally come to a decorated group of shelves filled with crystals, books, grimoires, tarot decks, chalk sets, toy daggers, and a select few YA books featuring witches.
“This is perfect! You seem to know your way around this place pretty well, good for you.”
I shrug, “I’m just glad I could be of help.”
“I look forward to it,” he says as I turn to walk away.
A chill catches in my spine. “Sorry?”
“Oh,” he crouches to get a book on a bottom shelf. “I’m the new-hire. I’ll be replacing Debby soon.”
‘Debby’ who strictly goes by ‘Debra’ to employees is our manager we begrudgingly respect.
“Wait, you’re our new manager?” I sort of laugh in disbelief.
He picks out a thick, purple grimoire. “Yeah. My name’s David.”
I shake his hand. His shake is a little too firm with me.
“Grace.”
“Pleasure. Well, I’ll be seeing you around.” We part ways and I practically sprint back to the register to fill Cassandra in.
“He’s our new WHAT?”
“Yeah, I don’t know how to feel about it,” I say. “He kinda gives me bad vibes.”
“Girl, what? He’s cute.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like the way he judged you for not being at the help desk.”
She rolls her eyes, “That could’ve been anyone else’s job.”
I glance at Travis in the bakery. He’s overwhelmed with customers, scrambling to write down orders as he goes. A trickle of white smoke is coming from the toaster behind him as it begins to beep.
“We’re the only ones in the store, dude. Also it looks like Travis could use a hand.”
Cassandra sees the drama as it unfolds, “Holy shit!” She runs off.
I steep in misery for the next half-hour. I think back to the fortune and the crappy luck I’ve been having lately. But then I remember that this is just a phase. Things will get better but only in a certain amount of time. August is only six months away, after all.
When I see David again, he’s wearing an apron, like me. “Okay! Since we’ve already had the pleasure of introductions out of the way, let’s talk about some new store policies.”
“What new store policies?” I ask.
“The ones I brought over from the other store. You know, with me.” Our eyes lock and suddenly the stars make it as clear as day. His irises constrict and I can feel the room darken as mine do too. A wave of nausea blasts at me from his direction as a cold sweat begins to form on my forehead and down my neck. Every follicle of hair on my body raises. My nemesis. This is he.
“Whoa, did you feel that?” he feigns a dizzy spell. “Was there an earthquake or something? Weird.” Without another word, he walks off.
I stand there, dazed.
Cassandra returns, burn marks on her apron. A little fleck of her well-textured hair smokes. “Well we got the line down, thank the stars.”
“Cass,” I mumble. “The new manager…”
“David?”
“Yeah, David…” his name makes me suddenly want to vomit. I gag. “Dude, he’s my nemesis.”
Cassandra blinks. I can see the gears turning in her head as she processes. Finally, her eyes half-close. “Yeah, I can see it.”
I’m still rigid. “Do I…? Do I go home or something? Like do I find a new job?”
Cassandra leans on the register. “Nah, dude. People work with people they hate all the time. Check your star map and I bet it looks pretty much the same.”
“I don’t have– oh, right, the app.” I pull out my phone and direct it upwards, as if waiting for a good signal. My little patch of stars, the ones I was born under, pass peacefully in space. When I zoom in for a better look I see a nebula I hadn’t noticed before: an explosion of greens, blues, and purples. “Shit,” I say, passing the phone to Cassandra. She whistles softly.
“Looks like there’s gonna be some major changes coming soon.” She rests her hand on my shoulder. “But hey, change isn’t always bad, you know?”
I frown at her. “During retrograde? During Aquarius?”
She chuckles. “I didn’t say it had to happen right this minute… But hey, sometimes you come across a diamond in the rough.” She lifts her hand from my shoulder and I suddenly feel cold and alone. “Besides, Aquarius isn’t all that bad for me. Maybe some of my decent luck will rub off on you.”
I sigh. “Imma head home early, I think.”
Cassandra finally brushes the soot out of her hair. “You do you, boo.”
★ ★ ★
I sit on the metro on the way home. I didn’t spend very long at work today, but I somehow feel completely drained. I check my phone. It’s still locked in on the image of the nebula from earlier. The beautiful bespeckled cloud will somehow form new worlds and maybe give life to some new stars. Destinies in the making, I think to myself.
A waft of warm air enters through one of the metro’s open doors. Funny, I think to myself as the most pleasant smell hits me. Usually it’s so cold on the metro at night. I suddenly remember I left work early and I’m just not used to afternoons. But the smell still lingers before me, like fresh rain on old wood.
Suddenly, a glimmer of light catches my eye: a pair of skate shoes with moons and stars. When I look up from my phone, someone is standing in front of me, holding a book down by their thigh. Diamonds And Forever the title reads, its little cover adorned with a glossy blue diamond.
I look up and lock eyes with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. She notices me and our eyes lock. Suddenly the world feels right-side up after a long delay of upside-downs. The metro light behind her illuminates her curly brown hair like a halo around her face. I smile and she does too.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi!” she says back.
I suddenly realize I have nothing to say to her, much less think about.
“Mind if I sit?” she asks, mercifully.”
“Oh, yeah, of course,” I say before making room. She sits right beside me and I swear gravity shifts in her direction.
“I’m Grace, by the way.”
“Nebula,” she says, taking my hand in hers. “You can call me Lua, though.”
“That’s amazing.”
“Yeah?” she laughs. I realize I must be smiling like an idiot.
I shift gears, “Whatcha reading?”
“Ah, some book about destiny theory.”
“Oh cool! I work in a bookstore and I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”
“You work in a bookstore? That’s so cool!” We can’t stop talking from there as the rest of the world vanishes around us. The pains of the day dissipate behind me and the universe becomes just a little brighter.
★ ★ ★
Needless to say, I miss my stop.
Why Chinese Workers Are Happier Than Americans (And It’s Not What You Think!) Rednote reaction
Better work life balance in China.
Why does China have a permanent seat in the UN Security Council although they did little during WW2, but Australia, Canada, New Zealand who contributed a lot are not given seats?
Whoever asked this is either severely lacking in knowledge, or is a racist.
There are many historians who will tell you that World War II actually began in either 1931, when Japan militarily seized Manchuria from China, or in 1937, when they launched a full-scale invasion of the rest of China.
Either way, this country you say “did little during WW2” was actually the first of the Allies to fight! And yes, that was a real poster used during the war to encourage Americans to support China and its war effort.
The Japanese invasion and occupation of China was brutal, every bit as much as the Nazis’ conduct in the Soviet Union, and estimates of Chinese deaths due to the war range between 14 and 24 million people. About four million of them were battle deaths, the rest were due to privation and Japanese atrocities. The Japanese killed a quarter of a million people in China after the Doolittle Raid, and at least 200,000 in the Rape of Nanking. They did not apologize for their actions until 1972.
In any case, the willingness of the Chinese to fight on even after massive territorial losses and a terror campaign was extremely valuable to the Allied war effort against Japan.
The Chinese had to move their capital city multiple times, finally hunkering down in Chongqing in September of 1940. The Japanese couldn’t get close to it and bombed it constantly out of spite. The legendary Flying Tigers, American volunteer airmen who fought for China, were based there and there is a memorial to them in the city:
Every fighting man, machine and yen that Japan had to expend against China was a resource that the Americans, British, and Commonwealth allies didn’t have to fight against as they drove Japan back in the Pacific and from the frontiers of India. China could have just surrendered, like one country I won’t name did, and wait for the Anglo-Saxons to come to their rescue. But they fought on.
The Chinese were finally able to start driving back the Japanese in 1945 and were making progress when the atomic bombs finally made Hirohito throw in the towel. China, as a nation of 400 million people (at the time) which had been resisting aggression for 14 years, earned its spot on the UNSC in blood. They have since spent 80 years catching up to the rest of the world and regaining their spot among the leading nations.
Australia, Canada and New Zealand all contributed tremendously to the war effort in their own right. But no country other than the USSR sacrificed and suffered as grievously as China did, and China did nothing wrong to deserve any of what was wreaked upon them.
Sir Whiskerton and the Case of the Missing Moonlit Melon
Ah, dear reader, prepare yourself for another whisker-twitching adventure starring none other than Sir Whiskerton, the farm’s most brilliant (and modest) detective. Today’s tale involves a mysterious melon, an insomniac piñata, and a lesson in wisdom that will leave you glowing like the full moon itself. So grab your sense of humor—and perhaps a flashlight—and let’s dive into The Case of the Missing Moonlit Melon .
The Mysterious Melon
It all began on a particularly serene evening when the farmer decided to plant something unusual: a melon he claimed would grow under the light of the full moon. “This isn’t just any melon,” the farmer declared dramatically, adjusting his straw hat. “It’s been imbued with cosmic wisdom!”
The animals gathered around skeptically. Doris the hen clucked nervously. “Cosmic wisdom? Does that mean it talks?”
“Only if you ask nicely,” the farmer replied cryptically before heading back to the house, leaving behind a trail of vague mumbling about stardust and enlightenment.
Sure enough, within days, a peculiar melon sprouted. By nightfall, it glowed softly, casting an ethereal light over the barnyard. The animals were mesmerized.
“It’s beautiful!” Harriet cooed.
“It’s magic!” Lillian squeaked, promptly fainting into a pile of hay.
Even Sir Whiskerton couldn’t deny its charm. He adjusted his monocle and stroked his whiskers thoughtfully. “Hmph. Cosmic wisdom, indeed.”
But as quickly as the melon appeared, it vanished—overnight, without a trace. When the animals discovered its absence the next morning, chaos erupted.
The Investigation Begins
Sir Whiskerton stepped forward, tail flicking confidently. “Fear not, my feathered and furry friends. Leave this mystery to me, the farm’s preeminent problem solver.”
He began his investigation by interviewing the usual suspects:
- Doris the Hen: “I didn’t take it! I was too busy gossiping about how Bessie tried to meditate but ended up chasing her own tail instead.”
- Ferdinand the Duck: “Me? Steal a melon? That’s quackery! Besides, I was practicing my new song, ‘Quackin’ Under the Moonlight.’”
- Big Red the Rooster: “I didn’t touch it! Honest! I was… uh… investigating why the scarecrow keeps staring at me.”
None of their alibis checked out, so Sir Whiskerton turned his attention to Bartholomew the Piñata. Suspiciously, Bartholomew had been unusually quiet lately.
“Bartholomew,” Sir Whiskerton said, narrowing his eyes. “Where were you last night?”
The piñata swayed gently in the breeze, offering no response.
“Oh, don’t play dumb with me,” Sir Whiskerton huffed. “You’ve got secrets, and I intend to uncover them.”
With Ditto trailing behind him, echoing every word (“Secrets! Uncover them!”), Sir Whiskerton approached Bartholomew again, this time armed with determination—and a flashlight.
The Piñata’s Confession
To everyone’s astonishment, Bartholomew spoke. “Because I’m the only one who listens,” he rasped in his papery voice.
“What do you mean?” Sir Whiskerton asked, tilting his head.
“I took the melon,” Bartholomew admitted. “But not for mischief. For… bedtime stories.”
“Bedtime stories?” Rufus barked incredulously.
“Yes,” Bartholomew continued. “Under the glow of the Moonlit Melon, I could finally read the books I’ve always dreamed of enjoying. You see, being a piñata isn’t easy. No hands, no feet, and certainly no library card. But with the melon’s light, I found solace in tales of adventure and wonder.”
The animals exchanged glances, unsure whether to laugh or applaud.
“So you stole the melon… to read?” Sir Whiskerton asked, raising an eyebrow.
“To learn,” Bartholomew corrected. “And now I understand what the farmer meant by ‘cosmic wisdom.’ It’s not about grand revelations—it’s about finding joy and knowledge in unexpected places.”
A Happy Ending
Touched by Bartholomew’s confession, Sir Whiskerton devised a solution. “Very well,” he announced. “The melon shall remain with Bartholomew—but only during nighttime hours. During the day, we’ll share its glow for everyone’s enjoyment.”
The animals cheered, and even Doris stopped clucking long enough to admit, “That’s actually kind of sweet.”
From then on, the Moonlit Melon became a cherished part of farm life. At night, Bartholomew hosted storytelling sessions, regaling the animals with tales of faraway lands and daring escapades. By day, the melon illuminated the barnyard, inspiring creativity and camaraderie among the animals.
As for Sir Whiskerton, he returned to his sunbeam, content in the knowledge that he’d solved yet another case—and learned a valuable lesson in the process.
The Moral of the Story
Wisdom isn’t always where you expect to find it. Sometimes, the greatest insights come from the unlikeliest sources—even a humble piñata with a love for bedtime stories.
Until next time, my friends.
The End.
…
How can you tell if a soldier is fake?
Ask them what their MOS is, or was.
Or if they are Navy, what their rate was. Or for Air Force, their AFSC. All of these acronyms are just fancy terms for “job” or “military occupation specialty.” (Don’t ask me what the AFSC stands for, the Air Force makes up some interesting acronyms.)
Any true service member, active, reserve, or retired will be able to give you a straight answer without taking a breath. If you want to be a dickhead, ask them where their schoolhouse was, and how long they were there. You’ll have the posers sweating bullets.
Ask them about their hair regs.
Most of us know this regulation by heart because we like to push it as far as we can before getting told to “get a haircut,” “fix your mustache,” or “go gel your flyaways down.” (And yes. Back when my curtain bangs were cut short, I got told to fix my hair quite frequently.)
Ask them if they’ve ever been ninja punched (NJPed).
As Chesty probably once said, “you’re not a real Marine until you’ve been NJPed.” You’ll get one of three reactions from a real service member. They’ll tell you no, they’ll bow their head in shame and say yes (if it’s fresh), or they’ll laugh, say yes, and tell you the story.
Non-Judicial Punishments (NJPs) are one of the more severe punishments you can receive in the military. Depending on how badly you screw up or on how disliked you are by your command, you can lose pay, rank, billets, etc. Pretty much anything you’ve worked for can get stripped away by a man (or woman) with a little shiny on their collar. And for anything between 45 days to six months, your life turns into a sh*t hole.
If they are wearing their uniform, look at their stack. You shouldn’t see the same ribbon twice. If we collect more than one of the same ribbon, we put a star on the ribbon to signify that we have two of those ribbons. Two stars on that ribbon mean you have three of those ribbons, and so on and so forth. And if you know your ribbons well, some ribbons cannot be earned twice. (Hell I don’t, I know my stack plus a few others)
Ask them what each ribbon is for. Some ribbons are earned as “milestones,” (the good conduct medal, AKA the good cookie. Congratulations, you managed to keep your shenanigans under wraps for three years, have a cookie. I mean ribbon.) Some are earned due to right place right time, some are earned due to billets you’ve filled (Drill instructor, Recruiter, etc.), some are earned for serving overseas in different areas, each ribbon tells a story. It may be a one line “Yeah, I hit the fleet and they gave me this thing after 30 days,” or it might be a story like “I earned this ribbon by being a first responder when I passed an accident on the highway.” Either way, every true service member can tell you what each of their ribbons mean.
And my favorite. “Hey Devil!” or “Hey shipmate!” or “Hey soldier!” You’ll either stop someone in their tracks with wide eyes and no color in their face, or you’ll catch a nasty attitude from some terminal E-3 who has been in trouble one too many times to give a rats ass. Or you’ll catch a poser who gives you a big grin because they have no idea what those phrases mean. Have fun!
Crazy and useless
What’s been the most mind-blowing example of incompetence ever displayed by one of your coworkers?
What’s been the most mind-blowing example of incompetence ever displayed by one of your coworkers?
I worked for a few years for a painting company that had just started applying an epoxy floor covering.
The only thing that we could use to clean our tools was a chemical called Methyl Ethyl Ketone (MEK).
MEK didn’t reverse or otherwise affect the hardening process that epoxies go through, but it seemed to work OK for cleaning tools at the end of the work day.
MEK is highly volatile and flammable.
We would keep our tools, like paitnbrushes, roller sleeves, trowels, OLFA knives, etc. in a 5 gal bucket of MEK.
Every morning, the crew of hungover, over-worked, and tired workers would go to their MEK bucket to extract their tools for the day’s work.
The epoxy was black, so the MEK would become dark and difficult to see into.
You had to reach into the bucket very quickly and find the tool you were looking for, because MEK would leave a chemical burn on your skin with just a few seconds of exposure.
We had all 6 or 7 of the MEK buckets sitting about 2 or 3 feet from one another.
One of the guys decided he didn’t want to stick his hand into the bucket unless he could spot his tools first, and then reach in and back out again very quickly.
He took his Bic lighter in hand and lit it.
He slowly started to lower the lighter closer and closer to the top of the bucket…..
… Until there was an explosion.
The explosion blew him back about 10 feet, and all the hair on his face and the front of his mullet was singed right down to the skin.
Eyelashes gone.
Eyebrows gone.
Goatee nearly gone.
Hairline in front receded back about 4 inches from its original location.
I was watching as he lowered the lighter, and I was thinking “That can’t be good. Someone should say someth….”
WHOOSH!
He survived, albeit with a bit of a sunburn.
No one else was burnt.
None of the other buckets caught fire.
Even the bucket he lit up exploded – and nothing else happened.
We were all very lucky.
An elderly neighbor offered to will me her home if I managed her care for the next few years. What are the issues here?
When I was 30, I bought a home and moved in on a snowy day; the neighbor was an elderly woman. I cleared the snow in front of her home and returned to moving in. The next day, she came over with a cake to thank me, introduced her self, we sat and talked for a while. I knew she did not have a car a getting to the grocery store would be difficult on a snow day. I asked if she needed anything from the store, told her I worked in a grocery store and could bring anything she needed. I did shopping for her about once a week. would bring it too her kitchen and she put it away while we talked. Her family never came to visit. Ten years later she died. Her attorney knocked on my door and told me she gave me everything in her will. I was shocked. The attorney said she recorded a video of her saying that I became a friend and her family had not seen her in over 20 years and that she wanted this to surprise me.
The attorney did all the paperwork and court work for the county. Six months later, the family sued me and wanted to overturn my will. My neighbor had paid the attorney to cover all the estate’s legal costs. He presented the video in court. In the video she said that I was the only person who helped her in her last years and I did everything not expecting to be paid. She showed a letter from her son that said he thought she was a bitter old ***** and did not want to see her again. The Judge ruled the will would stand.
Until the day in court, I had never seen her children or siblings. Her husband died the year before I moved in. She was a retired school teacher living on a pension in a home worth about 150K. The family was upset that received every thing even the photo album of them growing up. I did not care about the photo album or the value of the estate. I decided to sell the home and the contents by auction. I put the money in a trust fund to pay $2,000 a month to the church she attended. She would have liked that, she went to service there every Saturday and was always generous with contributions to the Church.
The photo albums and her old family Bible were donated to the county Historical Society.
I saw her son about two years later, and he thanked me for helping his mother; he realized he was wrong and did not regret not getting the estate.
Madame, the Mystic.
Submitted into Contest #245 in response to: Set your story in a world where astrology and the movements of celestial bodies deeply impact the lives of inhabitants.… view prompt
Julie Grenness
Just then, Madame, the Mystic’s dog wandered across this site of prophecies. His name was Golden. He was also known as having psychic energy. Why, he had even told Madame what his name was, by communing with his owners’ third eye. He wagged his tail, as he sat down, and offered his paw.
Madame, the Mystic, spoke again. “Look ,Golden gives you his paw of emotional support. I have a sale on Tarot cards, consult my daily horoscope for your true love, to guide you for all your happy days ahead. Plus here is my sister Charlene’s phone number. You also need her to direct you in fashion and colorful zen. She will provide a color palette, personally tailored. It is not any woman’s job to fix men. Be aware of any sign and symbol of friendship, Maybe you need a pet to share your future, always there to welcome your nurturing heart. Got to love a puppy!”
Jade did a quick think. “I don’t need a puppy. I want to meet a man to love.” The mystic astrologer spoke again…..
“Peace will flow, consult your guardian angel, always there in each awakening dawn. You must position yourself seamlessly for love, and be grateful for the graces that appear. I advise a weekly consultation. Here is your next appointment. I shall be your guide on the side!”
Jade left the astrologer, slightly bemused. Within no time, astrology was her world. She met Charlene, spent some funds on new threads, dressing each day according to her horoscope and personal palette. No more grey and brown sensible clothing, all was aqua, yellow and bright. Her hair was tinted, with blonde tips, her make-up was featuring her eyes, sparkling with hope.
Jade now awoke half an hour earlier, just to greet dawn with her guardian angel. She rehydrated with coffee, interpreting her coffee cup, making her bed, tidying her clutter, practicing her new skills in tarot cards. Once per weekend, she rose and changed her sheets, polished and mopped, flung open the windows, and lit her sage smudging. She wafted the aroma through her flat, opened doors. She still did not need a puppy, this guardian angel was demanding enough.
Jade had not, of course, told her father, who was called Bernard. The astrologer had got that bit right. She was getting crosser with God on a daily basis, smiling at strangers was not very effective. She was getting some very funny looks at the coffee shop, as she taught her students. Still she could not fix men, as astrology states.
Life took a turn for the worse. Bernard phoned, asking Jade to take him to his appointment at an oncologist. The news was dreadful, he had stage four tumors, riddled with cancer. His prognosis was very grim. Bernard was not as upset as Jade. He told her was grateful for all the blessings his Lord had granted him during his days. Treatment was planned, so he rapidly became an in-patient at an oncology unit.
Jade and the church people visited him regularly. In between tutoring online, she made a daily pilgrimage to her father’s bedside. He went downhill very quickly, the chemo was futile. Jade had been brought up with filial piety, but inside, she was now furious with her father’s divine Lord. How could this happen to such a faithful believer?
One grey morning, while channeling her guardian angel, her tarot cards finally showed a pair of lovers. “Yeah, right.” Jade wondered, but she was now a keen follower of astrology. At her father’s bedside, she held his hand .She felt that she was never quite good enough, never met a husband, never had his grandchildren to love and cherish.
Bernard suddenly opened his eyes, he was lucid for a while. “I am so proud of you, the apple of my eyes,. You are so bright and loving. I want you to got to the chapel and pray, like you used to. God has a plan for every one of us. I shall always be loving you. This journey goes on, true love.” With that, he breathed his last, and smiled his way to eternity.
Jade was devastated. The nurses were summoned, she walked to the chapel, frozen. She sat, silently yelling at God, Jesus, the holy church, her guardian angel. More than cross, angry. She nearly kicked a hole in the church walls.
But she was well-behaved,. Not praying, just recalling some happier times with her father. As she sat in the back pew, not doing any knee mails, she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She glanced up, meeting the eyes of her father’s junior oncologist. “These things happen, ” he told her, “Look, I have seen some mysterious things here, stranger than anyone can perceive. I took a photo of your father’s monitor, as you were holding his hand.”
Jade looked at his phone, there was an image of an angel, with wings. “Is this possible?” she asked. “Can I send it your phone?”asked Dr. Ben, that was on his name tag. “it is a comfort for you. You have your own guardian angel.” He laid his hand on hers. They swapped phone numbers, and Jade soon had a miraculous image of her own guardian angel.
Nearly eighteen months later, Jade sat in the chapel. Dr. Ben had given her his paw of emotional support, and that was not all. She did have a white wedding, but not in that fancy dress, simple, fitting, respectful. His name did start with a B, after all. She cuddled their brand new baby son, healthy with a good set of lungs already. Maybe she wasn’t so cross with the greater powers after all. Madame, the Mystic, was spot on. Jade had been open to a nuanced understanding of her guardian angel, and the theory that love will find a way.
Dr. Ben sat beside her. Their baby boy looked like Jade’s father, and himself. “Welcome to the world, little Bernard Benjamin……” A journey that continues for everyone. ……
The Psychological & Spiritual Consequences Are WORSE Than You Think
Why has Volkswagen closed 3 plants with massive layoffs in spite of tariffs as high as 47.6% on Chinese automobiles?
In recent decades, ALL the major, well known car manufacturers have made around 50–60% of their profits from selling cars in China, they have all spent BILLIONS building manufacturing plants in China, and sold the output to both the Chinese and the rest of the world; at one point, the entire worlds supply of the Honda Jazz used to be produced in one factory in Guangzhou, China (workers entrance road below – I visited there in 2008)
VW have been making old 1980s tech cars in China for decades, and for most of that time they dominated the taxi market – every taxi was either a 80s Jetta or an 80s Santana (Passat in Europe); then Hyundai entered the market with 21st century designs and VW lost nearly all their market share.
None of these major car companies took electric vehicles seriously, so invested nothing in developing them (except Nissan, who made one of the early greats, then didnt develop it properly for over a decade).
In China, the air pollution has to be breathed to be believed – dont believe all that crap put out by the CCP, about blue skies; and clear waters; the place is a toxic wasteland; at times I couldnt see as much as a single city block.
(The cloud of pollution hanging over Guangzhou, taken from Guangzhou Mountain, on another, fairly clear day; from up here, there is even a hint of blue to the sky).
Seven years later; only a few minutes onto the cable car and the city is already lost in the clouds of crap; there was no hint of blue sky on this day, even at the very top of the mountain.
Different city, same crap; this is the outskirts of Nanning, a “Garden City”, ~350 miles from Guangzhou; taken in 2018.
That weird concrete layout is where the locals go to learn to drive with the state sanctioned driving school – letting learners loose on Chinese roads is far too dangerous.
It got so bad, even the CCP realised they had to change – so they pushed grotbox EVs and Ebikes; and started pumping out new rules to force ICE engines off the road, starting with motorbikes in cities, but now even targeting ICE cars of the latest designs with impossible to meet emissions tests.
These NEVs (New Energy Vehicles), were HEAVILY subsidised, you could walk into a showroom anywhere in China and come out with an electric scooter for less than the price of the cheapest pedal bike on sale in Europe or the US (£80 when I visited in 2010), and a grotbox EV for under £600.
Now, these vehicles were REALLY bad (lead acid batteries), but the Chinese product development cycle on them was measured in months, not decades, and they rapidly improved; to the extent the locals would soon buy a semi-decent Chinese made EV for £2–10,000, rather than a semi decent western brand ICE for £20–60,000.
Yet still, none of the Western brands put any money into EV development.
In the last 2 years, sales for all foreign car makers in China have tanked; and most have either pulled out of China entirely, losing billions of investment, or have taken junior partnerships with one of the big Chinese car brands; or sold out to the Chinese entirely (MG, London Taxi Company, and Volvo spring to mind).
Meanwhile, despite raking in billions in profits for decades, all of these big companies kept themselves in massive debt as part of tax avoidance strategies – they had plenty of money rolling in, so paying these debts wasnt an issue.
But suddenly, they have lost 50–75% of their sales, and dont have the cashflow to invest in EVs, or pay their debts; worse; the factories they used as collateral, arent worth what they claimed, VW group has been unable to sell several car plants – no one wants to buy them, so instead of being assets worth hundreds of millions each, they are burdens worth tens of millions of negative equity – VW had to take the hit on ONE German plant last year (2024), and it wiped out over 90% of their gross profits; with worse to come, as they have numerous plants either sat idle, or operating far below capacity.
VW, Toyota, Stellantis, Ford, GM, Nissan, Mitsubishi, Honda (and all their subsidiaries); are all in the shit, massive debts and massively falling sales – and the only way out is to invest money they dont have, and cant borrow, to develop competitive EVs, and design/build factories that can make them competitively.
Nissan has a debt repayment due in a few months that is basically as much as the entire company is now worth; and that is only a fraction of their debt; Ford, GM, and Toyota arent THAT far behind, Ford and GM have been amputating non-US divisions to stem their losses, giving away European brands or just axing entire car models and their associated European factories.
The only traditional non-Chinese car brands still making decent money are Kia and Hyundai (sister companies); and that is because they put money into EVs fairly early and kept putting in money to develop them; they are the only ones with competitive cars for “Tesla” money.
What did a neighbor see going on at your house that you were unaware of?
My neighbor called me at work one day, saying, “Kathie, your house is on fire.”
I laughed. My neighbor was such a joker, always kidding around.
“No, seriously, the cops are here, too. They’ve got German Shepherd dogs sniffing around outside.”
I promptly freaked out and ran to my car. I only lived about six miles away, but I was in downtown Atlanta, after all. I proceeded to drive home at about 100 miles an hour.
“Calm down,” I said to myself. “No need to kill yourself. Maybe I’ll turn on the radio…”
Guess what song was playing? As God is my witness, I hear Talking Heads’ Burnin’ Down the House! Laughing and trying not to cry, I got a grip and finally pulled up to my house. The fire trucks were gone, but sure enough, cops were circling the house with two dogs.
I walked in the front door, which was hanging open. A terrible scream startled me. Then, I realized that it came out of my own mouth. Everything was drenched with water, some of it muddy. I went into the next room, where I screamed again. My ceiling fans had melted and were hanging down like perverse plastic flowers. My TV looked like something out of a Dali painting.
My bedroom was the worst, because that’s where the fire was set. My clothes and my bedspread had been set on fire. Unharmed, in the center of the room, was a picture of my boyfriend and me in front of the Arc de Triomphe in Paris, where we had just taken our first trip together a week ago.
The cops asked a lot of questions because they knew it was arson of some sort, but they quickly verified that I’d been at work all morning. They pointed out the “roach” of a joint on my coffee table, where the arsonist had smoked one and probably planned his actions. The cops never did much detective-type work, and eventually I “solved” the crime myself, but the perpetrator was already in jail by then for grand theft auto. He was a 19-year-old neighbor of mine, whom I’d never even met.
All this turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to me! A couple of days later, my boyfriend got laid off. He said, “Y’know what? We’re the perfect couple for the ’90s.”
I said, “what!?” He said, “Yeah, you’re homeless, and I’m unemployed!”
He was laughing about it! I thought to myself, now there’s a guy who has a sense of humor about life!
My insurance company wanted me to go to an extended stay hotel. I said that my boyfriend operated his Victorian home as a B+B, and it was a mile from my work, so they paid him $1200 a month to put me up. This paid his mortgage, until he got a new, better job a month later. We were also now living together. We loved it!
The house still wasn’t finished three months later, when the Olympics came to town. My boyfriend informed the insurance company that the rates went up. They couldn’t find anyplace else for me, (of course, because the Olympics were in town), so they paid him some ridiculous rate. I got a great settlement from State Farm, sold the house and we’ve been happily married for 19 years now.
North Carolina Sausage and Grits Casserole
Yield: 8 to 10 servings
Ingredients
- 2 cups water
- 1/2 teaspoon salt
- 1/2 cup quick-cooking grits
- 4 cups grated cheddar cheese
- 4 eggs, beaten
- 1 cup milk
- 1/2 teaspoon dried thyme
- 1/4 teaspoon garlic powder
- 2 pounds Jimmy Dean sausage, cooked, drained and crumbled
Instructions
- Bring water and salt to boil. Stir in grits. Return to boil, reduce heat, then cook for 4 minutes.
- In large bowl combine grits and cheese and stir until cheese is melted.
- Stir in cold milk, thyme and garlic powder. Mix well.
- Stir in eggs, mixing well.
- Stir in sausage. Pour into 13 x 9 inch pan. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
- Remove from refrigerator and let stand for 15 minutes.
- Bake at 350 degrees F for 50 to 55 minutes.
Attribution
Charlotte, North Carolina Cooking with Class cookbook
What is something you once believe but don’t anymore?
I used to believe that ,”If you didn’t do anything wrong you’ve got nothing to worry about “ I used to take great solace in that.
I’m 65 and I’ve seen that idea not be true way to many times. Not only in my life but in plenty of other people’s lives.
Not only on criminal charges the person wasn’t guilty of. Work situations. Marriages. Neighborhood stuff.
Some quick examples.
Somebody damaged over $100,000 of equipment at work. One of our employees was fired. He was also sued. He beat the lawsuit but at great expense. I later found out who really did all that damage. He was fatally ill. Confessed right before he died. Go figure. At least a dozen people knew the truth but never stepped up.
My friend Tom. This neighbor hood woman was chasing him around for months. Tom had a great job. Was very handsome. Very charming too. Tom rebuffed her advances over and over. Toms wife was furious. Finally there was a giant rumor that Tom was sleeping with her. Really damaged his reputation and marriage. The woman herself has been spreading that rumor trying to destroy Toms marriage.
I’ve seen very severe accusations during divorces back in my 30s and 40s. Nearly destroyed the person.
So? “If you didn’t do anything wrong you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
That’s complete BS. It’s nonsense.
If someone decides you did something wrong or falsely accuses you? You’ve got lots to worry about.
Why is the USA refusing China’s request to withdraw all their gold reserves stored in the USA?
The US Will never give any other nation their money back or pay what they owe them, they are thieves, this is how they have built their wealth, that’s why they protect the use of the dollar as a global currency, if any country has gold money or investments in the USA that’s for ever otherwise you can forget about that money, once they have it you will never see it again, how do you think the US has a trade deficit with every single nation they trade with and still manage to have more money than all the nations together?
Trade deficit mean they buy more than what they sell, where does the money come from, part of it is from china’s and every one else’s gold in the USA, the rest of it from everything else they steal around the world, think about the deal they wanted to force Ukraine into to give them the rights to rare earth minerals in Ukraine for life so for as long as there were minerals in Ukraine the US woul keep profiting from them in exchange for what?
In exchange for weapons that they do not need anymore but they don’t want to throw them away and in exchange for more of 1000000 Ukrainians deaths, see when the US says they are helping Ukraine, they are, if you see it from the Ukraine side, but if you’re seeing it from the side of the US they’re just getting rid of the old weapons they no longer need, and so, if you’re seeing it from the side of the rest of the world (from the outside)they are not helping them, their are stilling from them.
And I can keep writing about their abuses for the rest of my life and I don think I would finish writing about everything they have stolen.
One of the highest forms of disrespect/exploitation of a man is Paternity Fraud. That is, siring a child with another man and then foisting the bastard to the unwitting cuckold. It is a crime to both the father and the child, because he is sacrificing time and money to raise a kid that is not actually his: doubly so if he found out about the infidelity and divorced her (but she wins child support and the house anyways because western family courts reward more often than punish female infidelity).Despite this, Paternity Fraud is not considered a crime in most states/countries.It’s generally discouraged to get a paternity test (and it is outright BANNED in places like France because Paternity Fraud is extremely high). I can see why most, if not all men, will not put up with such extreme disrespect/usury. This can and will drive men over the edge, whether to kill themselves or get revenge on the adulterer. And this is notwithstanding how the kids feel when they learn that their real dad is behind bars or a sleezeball/scumbag.
It has gotten so common and so nasty that marriage rates are plummeting, and with that, familes are becoming ever more broken or nixed. A society that endorses this type of behavior is absolutely inexcusable if you want to maintain it.It has gotten so bad that the genders are fully polarized/balkanized here in the West.
But I am okay with that. I am pretty certain that this shit will not go on much longer. It will be called out and it will be stopped in its tracks. But it will be a long process to reverse the generations’ worth of propaganda that led to such normalized and destigmatized misandry.