Quote:
Originally Posted by DADZIG
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPHlWw5QBEo
Printable View
Quote:
Originally Posted by DADZIG
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPHlWw5QBEo
Not sure why I’m laughing at these, but I damn sure am
FB, you're clearly still suffering from the innocence of one finally learning to express their subjectivity through theory, as well as the virtues of moral seriousness as a resistance to the perceived vacuity of the world around you.
Before you charge me "fascism," you might want to glance at my username. "Sep" is diminutive for separation: Separation Perfected.
I also went about hostilely inflicting everyone my newfound illuminations after discovery Debord, insisting what seemed benign contained beneath its spectacular facade an infinity of nightmare, that everything besides what I understood as corresponding to an equally delusory idea of the "authentic" was alienated, reified, degrading, and cruel. In all things I found reification, and I could not bear the fact that I alone had will enough for this sacrilege. While I still embrace everything Debord wrote, still believe theory essential to leading a conscious and by extension moral relationship to a world that threatens to dehumanize us, I realize why I lost several friends following my subversion: I was being annoying, and brandishing the cultural currency of my limited readings in this way was as plainly immature to them as it is to me now.
"Separating the art from the artist" is the very dumbest discussion still to be treated as serious. You understand, first, that people are not all of one kind? You know who that's paraphrasing? STENDHAL, probably the greatest French novelist and also worshipper of Napoleon. I don't go for the "Death of the artist" idea at all, at least in its most dogmatic form (a friend told me Foucault wrote a response tempering somewhat the more hysterical aspects of his earlier thesis, but of course no one wants a god damn synthesis in this world of yes and no), I believe "the artist" is a useful means of relating to art, but when we construct the artist so childishly, as a narcissistic projection of our idealized, sentimental conception of ourselves, and demand they adhere to our conception of the "right life" at the threat of being forsworn, that's just a kind of solipsism. And that doesn't seem very political to me.
Frankly, your attitude on this thread is closer to the Maoists Godard would ridicule than to a Hegelian, wanting of all aspects of life a fetishized "radicalism," a false consciousness and a puritanism that adheres to degraded and commodified politics in truly jejune fashion.
This is not the Cantos of Ezra Pound or some such politically "troublesome" work of art: if you could enjoy Grimes' shitty synth pop before she showed herself a buffoon, you should be able to continue enjoying it, or else recognize that what you want of these things is some sentimental fantasy of a "moral" existence, a "right life," that merely substitutes one form of commodity fetishism and consumption for another
FB got freaking OWNED.
But what can lazy, dumb, conformist people do to give themselves a point and purpose in life?
Well the key problem is with the word "do." That requires hard work, toil, thought, of which the majority of American sports fans are either incapable of doing or consciously choose not to do. So what we need is an effortless way to give these otherwise worthless people some kind of worth in their lives. Something that they can take pride in, even though they themselves would not expend a single calorie of energy achieving some sort of accomplishment. And whereas religion used to fit this role nicely, going to church requires you wake up early on Sunday and go someplace you really don't want to go.
So, the solution?
Sportsball.
Whether it's football, baseball, basketball, or hockey, "sportsball" is incredibly attractive to the millions of lazy, unintelligent, conformist, pointless people that account for at least half of Americans today. Their lives are helplessly destroyed beyond repair. They either lack the intelligence or work ethic or both to get out of it. But if you can get them to live vicariously through the achievements and accomplishments of others, they will gladly fork over a significant portion of their garnished paycheck for tickets, jerseys, training camps, cable packages, light beers and wings! You can even get the taxpayers to WILLINGLY subsidize these various sportsball franchises to the tune of billions of dollars a year. All a sportsball franchise has to do is set up shop in a large town, speak about hometown pride and how much they like "City X," sponsor some kiddie programs, get the local news to run some horrific "sports news shows," give away some shirts and some banners, and the agencyless sheep will line up from a 300 mile radius to give you their time, money, and tears.
LOVE sportsball.
LOVE slutty single Disney women.
Quote:
I may be a lot of things, but "alone" ain't one of them.
If anyone's projecting, it's you. My life is sweet. My son is learning to play #Tool on the guitar right now and my daughter is oil painting. Fulfilled is a word you'll never understand.
Try again sweetheart.
We Were you in going to need n n I I I t think thought t the same fabric f f f for cutting for the r r of on my way to the the the same time game name is is is and is the a the a 'sand in and itwas wash wasn't wash wasn't going a a call a call from with from the my the fabric same time time thing time to to be be the waitress same same same problem is with is with you the a you have power power power
I am a Slavic Orthodox Christian of noble birth. I am interested in art and music in particular. Perhaps the most important thing to say about myself on this site is that I reject the modernist plebeian autonomous aesthetics with its “art for the sake of art” (in fact, "art for the sake of the destruction of traditional society pretending to be art").
Aesthetics are only part of a higher degree - ethics. Art is needed for the emotional service of morals and people, and good art is good service. Therefore, I reject all plebeian aesthetic canons established in the 18th-19th centuries and prefer the traditional, above-mentioned view of art. Golden canon instead of experiments for the sake of experiments, order instead of chaos, mimesis instead of degenerative abstraction, beauty and emotionality instead of cold and detached pseudo-complexity, seriousness and partly sentimentality instead of annoying tasteless irony, aesthetic value of the composition instead of the artist’s personality / self-expression, the melody instead of a set of unusually structured sounds, necessary in some cases emotional pomp instead of the philistine cult of moderation for the sake of moderation.
Music is no exception - traditional western harmonies and beautiful melodies instead of experiments with sound and rhythm. I am a supporter of the musical hierarchy, I think that some styles / genres are superior and some degenerate by themselves. Despite this / because of this (which you prefer) I try to be as objective as possible when I rate records, minimizing the subjective factor, although not always possible. Proceeding from this, I adhere to the simple rule “just as the things that we intuitively like are really good, and the fact that we don’t like it doesn’t mean that it’s bad,” which has ethical-aesthetic roots.
I also appreciate the mainstream above the underground, because the mainstream, despite all its flaws and simplifications, historically have much more in common with traditional noble culture than the underground, which grew out of degenerative cancerous ideas of XVIII-XIX centuries, especially marxist ones. So, my rule is “Very many things in the mainstream are bad, but all really good things are necessarily in the mainstream”. All the good stuff that is in the underground sooner or later goes to the mainstream, and in a better way. In a sense, I have a Tolstoyan view of art (but only on art, otherwise Tolstoy is not my cup of tea). Truly ingenious things always strive for simplicity and accessibility, even if they are difficult to perform - to consolidate their position in culture. Mediocrity is always trying to confuse, "experiment", shock, destroy, talk about "progress" and "originality" - in order to disguise the lack of real talent.
Based on this, my assessments may not always coincide with the canons of RYM, which adhere to the philistine modernist / postmodern aesthetics purely intuitively. Those, for example, I put high ratings to the avant-garde only in an ironic context and I can consider as true art what the philistines call the blurry and ridiculous word "cheesy" or "kitsch" (an attempt to recreate traditional art).
P.S. English grammar is a terrifying thing, especially when you are not a native speaker. Perhaps this is not the best excuse, but ... i have no other.
But in general, it is good not to be a native speaker of English - it is much easier for me to focus on the music itself (which is my goal) and to separate the music/vocal perfomance from the lyrics. Most of my ratings are set in accordance with this feature, with rare exceptions.
I almost never care about lyrics, because in most songs, lyrics and poetry range from banal to damn terrible (even in "deep" songs) - the song format, by definition, can not contain something even remotely interesting to an educated person. In my reviews, I will rarely mention the lyrics - only if it is ridiculously awful and contrasts with, in general, good musicality of the whole song.
P.S.S. And simple chain in the end. Autonomous aesthetics is a myth of Enlightenment and Romanticism, it does not exist. Good taste in art is a moral quality. The highest morality is Christian. Therefore, the anti-Christian has a shitty taste by definition.
I can’t think of a more egregious example of government-sponsored socialism than the public library. Unproductive citizens without two nickels to rub together are given access to millions of books they could never afford to buy on their own -- all paid for with the tax dollars of productive citizens. Does the government pay for people to rent tuxedos for free, sail boats for free, or play golf for free? No, it does not. So why should it pay for people to read books and surf the Internet for free?
The free market should be left alone to distribute books and computers to those who have earned them. With libraries handing out free books, is it any wonder Borders went out of business? Libraries are also repositories for out-of-print books which can no longer make it in the marketplace. Gary can no longer afford to keep its main library open, but you don't see the state bailing it out. That's because Indiana is a business-friendly place that knows how to balance its budget.
In addition, libraries are often used by the homeless to warm themselves during the winter, or to nap during aimless afternoons which might better be spent looking for a job. Advocates of public libraries cite them as “community gathering spaces” -- but can’t the market provide those spaces, too?
As the author of three books, I obviously have a grudge against libraries because they enable the public to consume my work without paying for it. Every time someone checks one of my books out of the library, that’s money out of my pocket. There are 79 public libraries in Chicago. If there were 79 filling stations dispensing free gasoline, don’t you think the oil industry would complain? You bet it would, and it would probably get those stations shut down, because the Petroleum Institute has a much better-funded lobbying arm than the Authors’ Guild.
If the public libraries can’t generate enough revenue to support themselves, they should be closed. Well, not entirely. There is one book that everyone in Chicago deserves to read: Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand. Perhaps we can all borrow a copy at City Hall.
Quote:
“If one times one equals one, that means that two is of no value because one times itself has no effect. One times one equals two because the square root of four is two, so what’s the square root of two? Should be one, but we’re told it’s two, and that cannot be.”
bukdow's still at it, I see.Quote:
Originally Posted by Mr. Oobir
This is a message from the done with the police department the national weather service has issued a.
Screen Corning -- and give me a lot -- it sound how you can freezing temperatures in the lower 30 seconds expected with temperatures falling as little as T after 20 seconds in the higher elevations -- asterisk where -- portions of north central Northeast Northwest and west central to enter -- asterisk when -- John from 11:00 PM this evening 2:10 AM eastern daylight time Friday -- asterisk impact -- ducks crossed in freeze conditions will 2:00 other sensitive education and possibly damaging protected outdoor morning -- take steps announcer protected plans for the told -- to prevent freezing and possible bursting with outdoor water pipes they should be around to ring or around to drink some early.
Posted heading ground sprinkler systems should during the night cover plus grounds plates to protect them from three thing.
I KNOW A LOT ABOUT BICYCLES! MOST OF THEM HAVE 2 WHEELS, A SET OF HANDLEBARS, A SEAT, SOME HAVE FENDERS, SOME DON'T AND ALL ARE POWERED BY EITHER MAN,WOMAN, BOY, GIRL OR OTHER.
BUT MY GIRLFRIEND HAD 1 IN COLLEGE (KENT STATE, DURING THE "INCIDENT") AND WANTS ANOTHER 1.
I HAVE NO IDEA, WHAT KIND, GEARS, SIZE OF WHAT SHE HAD, NOR WOULD SHE. ALL SHE KNOWS WAS THAT IT WAS A TAKARA.
IF YOU WERE TO SELL IT HOW MUCH WOULD YOU WANT FOR IT.
I WILL BE SITTING DOWN WHEN I READ YOUR RESPONSE AND IT WON'T HURT IF I FALL OVER, SO YOU CAN TYPE THE ENTIRE PRICE AT ONE TIME.
ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS IS A DIE HARD BIKE ENTHUSIEST OF BETTER THAN 35 YEARS AND IT TAKES MY BREATHE AWAY WHEN HE TELLS ME WHAT ANY 1 OF HIS 3 COST, MUCH LESS WHAT THE EXPENSIVE ONES COST.
THANKS
ROBERT
I wasn't bullied in school though many tried with me who didnt know me. When I was named called I nipped it at the bud real quick, which brought be many squabbles. But having fought so much gave me the confidence I have today. I walk with my back head up, my chest out and my shoulders straight because of my bravery. Most people are just bluffing. They're just trying to get their own head pumped up at the expense of doing onto others. But when I met them at their action, they almsot always backed down thus putting their asses back in their place. Many times it was significantly larger guys than I.
I was always ready for a beat down. I always excepted the fact that I may get my ass kicked and a few times I did but I didnt give a shit either way. The way I saw it is that I'd rather get my ass kicked than let mother fkers walk all over me. I was small back then in Highschool but I had gained a reputation that mufuckers were welcome to try with me but it definitely wasn't going to cost them.
Congratulations, you got a reaction from users. That's what you wanted right? Well, I've decided I don't like people like you. You've messed with the community of the wrong psychopath. Before you get excited, you haven't even made me angry. I am a hard person to make angry. However, I despise people like you. Your pitiful hacking skills are hilarious. Hacking accounts and putting up proxies are level 1. Can you hack encrypted files? Can you tear through firewalls without leaving a mark? Your silly little proxy won't protect you. I have hacked into many computers and spied on the users. I've hacked into games. I've been hacking since I had a computer. It's what I was raised to do. You have no idea to the extent of fear which you should be feeling. All you are is just a community of internet creeps. Have you ever murdered anyone? I have no empathy and I will probably feel joy peeling your skin off your face. You think I'm giving you an empty threat? Believe that. I have contacts in dark places that you don't want to know about. If you live even close to me you better fear for your life. Track my IP if you want to, but I am smart enough to use a library computer. Hack into my account if you want, but it'll just make it easier for me to track you.
With love,
A psychopath
It's like the Navy Seals copypasta but it's getting its head dunked into a toilet.
Quote:
"Your silly little proxy won't protect you."
Ownage.
Hi, Gavin, beside being Italian I am also from the Parma region, and as a young boy I’ve help in a Parmigiano cheese factory. I am very impress with the cheese making process you have shown in the video. In a small scale it represents, right down to the temperatures used, on what is happening in the factory. I cannot understand some of the negative comments you received, some individuals are just idiots. Of course, yours is not THE Parmigiano Reggiano, but so what? You have made a cheese that resembles the original and I am also sure it tastes good. On being precise, the making of Parmigiano cheese is controlled all the way to the actual feed the cattle get and with favoring the evening milking vs morning milking. So again, good job on what you have done, and opinionated people....shame on you.
Gavin should just claim to be producing Pecorino Romano, THOSE guys have no standards.
A few months ago I posted on here about a supervisor not letting me go on breaks at work. I have gotten a new job since then since I simply could not work with my supervisor.
I have written and recorded several songs dissing my old supervisor and bringing up all the things he did to me into a mixtape.
If I were to upload these songs into SoundCloud or YouTube and my supervisor heard them, is there any kind of legal action he could take against me for name-dropping him in many of the songs?
tl;dr: I made a mixtape dissing my old boss and mention his name in many of the songs, if I made this mixtape public, could he take any legal action against me?
Bet that’s FIRE
I just went back and read through the entire thread. I know I'm pathetic.
It's hilarious how many of these posts could've been written by bukdow.
This is a great thread for re-reading.
If you haven’t noticed by now, I’m a well educated individual, both in the traditional sense as a UC Berkeley graduate with a full scholarship, as well as continuing on afterwards as a self taught polymath. In school I excelled in biology, physics, philosophy, psychology and mathematics, notably probability and statistics. My areas of interest in my younger years revolved mainly in world religions, esoteric studies and the occult. You could easily describe me as an Existential savant. Later in life I gravitated to quantum physics, exoplanetary astronomy, extremophile biology plus cutting edge antigravity technology, reverse engineered by crashed ET saucers, technologically produced wormholes and FTL and old school rocket propulsion. I’m also a huge fan of ancient alien progentiure theories, including Zachariah Stitchens work with Sumerian Annunaki and have read the ‘Book of Enki’ in its entirety, not an easy task mind you. It’s like trying to understand Shakespear. My knowledge is not limited to this geographical region alone. I’m well versed in others including Egyptian, Mayan and Hindu extraterrestrial origin mythologies. Adjunct to these archeological studies, I’m familiar with the hidden teachings of Gnosticism, Zoroastrianism or Mazdayasna and Sufism, Theosophy, the Illuminati, Latin American Shamanism and ancient Greek mystery schools of both Hermeticism and Eudaimonia. Most recently my interests have included the latest UFO and extraterrestrial conspiratorial subjects including Roswell, Area 51, Majestic 12, Nikola Tesla, the Philadelphia experiment, Alien taxonomy and hybrids, CIA Mind Control programs like MK Ultra, Time travel and the Montauk chair experiments. I’ve also watched many documentaries on the numerous secret space programs, Earth’s secret subterranean biosphere’s and the naturally occuring portals that allow access. Hidden spacecraft buried under Antartica including the secret post WWII Nazi base, the US navy’s crushing defeat under project highjump. Breakaway civilizations with moon bases within a hollow core and those on Mars competing with indigneous Insectoid and Reptilian species. Finally to end this exhaustive list, there’s the supremely complex alien politics originating from time immemorial when the first Dracos attacked the first humanoid Lyrans who then fled to distant parts of the Galaxy, making up the Pleadians, Sirians, Orians and a number of others that seeded our solar system and that make up the Galactic Federation, the Alliance and various organizations that watch us, monitoring our precarious situation until the coming Ascension cycling every 250,000 years as the solar system circles the center of the Galaxy, called the ‘procession’. Evidently as this occurs, our planetary system will enter a region of intense electromagnetism instigating our Sun to release a solar flare 1000 times greater than normal and thus elevating all inhabitants of Earth into a greater cosmic awareness and perhaps destroying a plot to utilize artificial intelligence against humanity and possibly our entire power grid with a monumental EMF? Suffice it to say that I possess a wealth of science fiction information from which to draw upon in the creation of my own story inspiration.
I bear witness to the fact that throughout my lifetime, the lifeblood of my republic has been drained away by greedy and self-serving men, from high to low, who contrive nought but deception against their neighbors and countrymen, and who fail to consider that their children and mine shall share the same fate, the same future, and I am saddened by it.
But I am a soldier, and I know what must be done; and so I shall put away my sadness and I shall harness up the bitter steed of war, and gird myself up for the battle; and I shall ride out to meet the enemies of Liberty; not in rage, not for anger sake or the hope of vengeance; but because I swore an oath before God, to jealously guard our Republic and its Constitution against all enemies; Him I shall not disappoint, for He is my Hope and my Trust.
Therefore, as much as my soul laments against the harsh truth before me, I make this declaration to my enemies who press me into this battle, that none shall be able to afterwards say "I did not know, you did not warn me";
I do not care why you took that job with the government, or why you continue to hold it. I only know that you have become Judas and sold yourself to an oppressive state — your government office buildings and vehicles are part of the battlefield, and as a soldier I shall act accordingly.
I do not care why, as a journalist, you choose to spin and corrupt the news, rather than report the plain truth and let the people judge for themselves. I only know that you have violated the public trust in the most vile and seditious manner, and thus your homes, offices, studios, vehicles, and any other place you may find yourself are part of the battlefield, and as a soldier I shall act accordingly.
I do not care why you signed that union card. I only know that you pay dues to a communist organization which conducts treasonous works against my Republic daily – and so your union hall and your work-sites are part of the battlefield, and as a soldier I shall act accordingly.
I do not care that you only voted for the traitor because you are elderly/disabled or otherwise dependent upon government largess. Are you so ignorant and/or disinterested that you could not see through their propaganda, to the fact that your sustenance was assured either way? What have you gained now that the public housing areas you live in, and the public facilities you depend on are part of the battlefield? Though I am a soldier, I can afford you little protection, for you have placed yourselves on the battlefield.
I know that all of these places and all of these people are part of the battlefield, not just because I am a soldier, and have experienced a few battlefields in my day; but also because our President declares that even our own homes are on the battlefield, whether we wish them to be or not, and I have no choice but to believe him; it’s not just that the NDAA passed – a battlefield is not defined by law; it’s the profound build-up of martial power and resources across my once-great nation which tells me a battle is being prepared here. Over two billion rounds of ammunition procured by DHS and its sub-agencies in the past 18 months, plus machine guns in the tens of thousands, armored vehicles, combat aircraft, drones, and other implements of war being staged throughout our nation, our home – how do you explain that except as the preparation for battle?
I will fight not because I desire it, but because I cannot justify any other course of action – when the enemy attacks, you must fight – you must kill or you will die.
I smell you, my enemy; I can feel the ambush you have laid for me and my true countrymen, all about like a sticky spider’s web, yet we will not back down; and though you will kill some of us, you will not get us all before we have finished with you.
I stand here, ready, on the eve of battle, and I ask God why I have been brough to the threshold of this battlefield, about to be thrust in, when I though my soldiering days were through; and I am reminded that there is by His decree, a Time to Kill, as well as a Time to Die… who am I to question why?
My family poops big. Maybe it's genetic, maybe it's our diet, but everyone births giant logs of crap. If anyone has laid a mega-poop, you know that sometimes it won't flush. It lays across the hole in the bottom of the bowl and the vortex of draining water merely gives it a spin as it mocks you.
Growing up, this was a common enough occurrence that our family had a poop knife. It was an old rusty kitchen knife that hung on a nail in the laundry room, only to be used for that purpose. It was normal to walk through the hallway and have someone call out "hey, can you get me the poop knife"?
I thought it was standard kit. You have your plunger, your toilet brush, and your poop knife.
Fast forward to 22. It's been a day or two between poops and I'm over at my friend's house. My friend was the local dealer and always had 'guests' over, because you can't buy weed without sitting on your ass and sampling it for an hour. I excuse myself and lay a gigantic turd. I look down and see that it's a sideways one, so I crack the door and call out for my friend. He arrives and I ask him for his poop knife.
"My what?"
Your poop knife, I say. I need to use it. Please.
"Wtf is a poop knife?"
Obviously he has one, but maybe he calls it by a more delicate name. A fecal cleaver? A Dung divider? A guano glaive? I explain what it is I want and why I want it.
He starts giggling. Then laughing. Then lots of people start laughing. It turns out, the music stopped and everyone heard my pleas through the door. It also turns out that none of them had poop knives, it was just my fucked up family with their fucked up bowels. FML.
I told this to my wife last night, who was amused and horrified at the same time. It turns out that she did not know what a poop knife was and had been using the old rusty knife hanging in the utility closet as a basic utility knife. Thankfully she didn't cook with it, but used it to open Amazon boxes.
She will be getting her own utility knife now.
[Edit: Common question - Why was this not in the bathroom instead of the laundry room? Answer. We only had one poop knife, and the laundry room was central to all three bathrooms. I have no idea why we didn't have three poop knives. All I know is that we didn't. We had the one. Possibly because my father was notoriously cheap about the weirdest things. So yes, we shared our poop knife.]
The poop knife story cracks me up every time.
I actually haven't spoken to my straight son in several years but was reminded of him today. The last time I spoke to him was when I went to meet with some clients at their office. After the meeting I told my son to wait while I used the bathroom, then I drove off and went for a late lunch with my husband.
Apparently my son just wandered around the office for a week, living on snacks and left out sandwich platters, until he wandered into a meeting and delivered a PowerPoint presentation entitled: "Have you seen my dad? I can't find his car in the parking lot." I guess this really impressed the idiots who worked there, because pretty soon he was their Senior Director of Corporate Communications. This is a Fortune 500 company, mind you.
Seems like my son is doing pretty well, despite his heterosexual handicap, and is now a motivational business speaker and published author with works such as:
Where is YOUR Dad? Defining Your Company's Core Values for Success
Lost in the Parking Lot: Finding Meaning in a Shifting Business Paradigm
Anyway, I was reminded of my son today because during a meeting someone said, "Well right now I'd say we're lost in the parking lot. But once we've had time to make sense of the analytics we'll know where our dad is."
This thread is on fire.
Tell Ea-nasir: Nanni sends the following message:
When you came, you said to me as follows : "I will give Gimil-Sin (when he comes) fine quality copper ingots." You left then but you did not do what you promised me. You put ingots which were not good before my messenger (Sit-Sin) and said: "If you want to take them, take them; if you do not want to take them, go away!"
What do you take me for, that you treat somebody like me with such contempt? I have sent as messengers gentlemen like ourselves to collect the bag with my money (deposited with you) but you have treated me with contempt by sending them back to me empty-handed several times, and that through enemy territory. Is there anyone among the merchants who trade with Telmun who has treated me in this way? You alone treat my messenger with contempt! On account of that one (trifling) mina of silver which I owe(?) you, you feel free to speak in such a way, while I have given to the palace on your behalf 1,080 pounds of copper, and Šumi-abum has likewise given 1,080 pounds of copper, apart from what we both have had written on a sealed tablet to be kept in the temple of Shamash.
How have you treated me for that copper? You have withheld my money bag from me in enemy territory; it is now up to you to restore (my money) to me in full.
Take cognizance that (from now on) I will not accept here any copper from you that is not of fine quality. I shall (from now on) select and take the ingots individually in my own yard, and I shall exercise against you my right of rejection because you have treated me with contempt.
Hell yeah, Nanni!
I knew I'd read that somewhere before:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Compla...et_to_Ea-nasir
If you’ve read the comments section of any respected website over the past year, certainly you’re aware of my expertise ranging from, but not limited to:
The Constitution. Venezuela. Libtards. The Founding Fathers. Regulating the uterus. Martial arts. Jesus. World of Warcraft. Babes. And how the ’97 Olmsted Falls Bulldogs would have totally won state if coach let me start at middle linebacker instead of Chad Weaver. (Complete, unabridged remarks on Chad Weaver available upon request.)
What you may not know is that I’m now a leading authority on infectious disease.
Only funny because it’s true
Well walking around this stinking town
I look up at the buildings and they get me down
Well I look to my left and then I look to my right
And then I realize they've been striking at me
Since the middle of last night, hey!
No, no no!
I know everyone's going to think this is fake but trust me when I say this is an actual situation I'm going through. So for some explanation I have been collection Funko Pops way before I even met my wife. Buying Funko Pops started off just as a small interest but quickly became a passion of mine. Since my first time buying a Funko Pop 6 years ago I've stocked up thousands of these figures. So now about my relationship with my wife. 2 years ago I met my soon to be wife. From the very beginning of the relationship she was well aware of my Funko Pop collection and was well aware that at the time I was spending a few hundred bucks monthly in order to keep expanding my collection. She was perfectly fine with this btw. In fact she would buy Funko Pops for me for my B-Day and for Christmas. However about a week ago we got in a huge fight over my spending of Funko Pops. I will admit these past few months I have been dropping about $500 monthly on Funko figures, but in my opinion it was not financially tanking considering me and my wife have pretty decent jobs. I don't want to state what those jobs are for privacy reasons. Anyways she was telling me I needed to stop the Funko Pop collecting for a long time or at least cut down my Funko spending to 3 Funko Pops per month. In my opinion that is so ridiculous considering how limited I would be in my choice of Funko Pops. I tried to explain to her how much I enjoy collecting these figures, and how much it means to me. She then started yelling that we were going to go in debt because of the amount of money I've been spending on Funko Pops. I stated to her how she was completely over-reacting and there is no way we could possibly go in debt from this.
After some more screaming she locked herself in our room and I had to sleep on the couch that night. I really did not feel bad at all because I knew she was over-reacting. When I woke up in the morning she told me she was going to stay at her sisters house until we could sort things out. I honestly just couldn't believe she was going so far with this. I tried my best to convince her to stay but again she kept stating that I needed to stop the Funko collecting for a long time. That isn't an option for me because again she is completely over-reacting and it is in no way affecting us financially.
A few days go by and I get a call from her. She tells me that I need to choose. Either I stop the Funko Pop collecting or we're getting a divorce. I started telling her how ridiculous she was being because she obviously is being ridiculous. After 2 years she was just willing to throw away our marriage over my passion. She was pretty much sobbing at this point and then I finally just told her I'm not going to let her get in the way of my passion. I still haven't gotten the divorce papers but I'm expecting them soon.
So AITA for choosing Funko Pops over my wife? Again I'm very passionate about them and I think it's ridiculous for someone to try and take that away from me when it is in no way shape or form hurting them..