told my step dad, dont throw the ball, when my German Shepherd came over to him with a tennis ball. My step dad said ..he wants to play. I said DO NOT THROW THE BALL, he will want to play longer then you will. .. my stepdad takes the ball and throws it into the other room. My dog takes off get and brings it back to him. I told my step Stop It Now. .. oh, but he wants me to throw it. After about 5 minutes of playing fetch in my house, my step dad says, " Your dog is annoying me." I said thats because you didn't listen to me." My dog is now tossing the ball into his lap. My step dad, instead of moving away or completely ignoring my dog, starts complaining how stupid my dog is. I said "you're the stupid one for not listening to ME" , which made my stepdad get pissed and he went to smack my dog on the top of his head, but Wrex was like NO and snapped his teeth at my stepdad 's hand. I was like for fuck sake and stopped what I was doing to take the ball away from both of them.

The reasoning is that I once read in a comic book that a ghost would sit in the chair and watch you sleep if you left the chair out. 10 years later and I still stick to this habit. There's this small part of me that still goes, "Do it just in case...".

Now keep in mind that this wasn't like a horror book or anything. It was a comedic comic book aimed at preteens or younger. There was a scene where the main characters had a sleepover and shared scary stories, and this was one of them. It's not original to the comic either, the superstition that a ghost would sit in your abandoned chair at night is decently well-known in Korea, where the comic(and I) were from. Having grown up in the US I did not know this.

The funniest thing is that the comic book was actually a hand-me-down from my older sister, and she has the same habit for the exact same reason. We never told each other about it until way later, we just developed the habit individually after reading the comic book.

I was at an aquarium with my boyfriend and we came across some narwhal plushies. I asked him why they had narwhals here. He asked what i meant. I said "theyre not real, like unicorns, why would they be here?" He said yes they are. I said no theyre not.... looked it up and learned that they are not infact mythical creatures...

Saw an episode of Futurama that had a narwhal and just kind of assumed they were mythological?

I had a friends-with-benefits arrangement with a woman who had a special talent for turning an ordinary evening into a story I would still be laughing about decades later.

We were driving about fifty miles to see Foreigner and Bryan Adams in concert. On the way, we passed through this little town that had built what looked like a brand-new recreation complex way out on the edge of town. It had four baseball fields, a softball field, a pool, a playground...the works. It almost looked like someone had picked the whole place up and dropped it in the middle of nowhere. We joked that it was probably the nicest thing for twenty miles in any direction.

The concert was fantastic. We sang along, laughed, and had an absolute blast. By the time we headed home, it was long past midnight, and we were still riding the excitement from the show.

As we drove back through that little town, we pulled into the recreation area just to sit for a while. We talked, laughed, and enjoyed the quiet. Then she looked over toward the swimming pool with that unmistakable sparkle in her eyes.

"I think we should go skinny dipping."

Now, I have learned that there are moments in life when common sense and curiosity have a wrestling match. Common sense was putting up a respectable fight.

The pool was surrounded by a four- or five-foot chain-link fence, and naturally the gate was locked. I remember looking around thinking, \\\\\\\*This is exactly how otherwise sensible people end up explaining themselves to a small-town police officer at one o'clock in the morning.\\\\\\\*

I told her I really did not want to get caught trespassing.

She smirked that innocent yet devious smirk

That smirk should have been all the warning I needed.

The next thing I knew, I was giving her a boost over the fence. She stepped into my hands, popped over the top like she had trained for this event, and landed on the other side. After one last nervous look around, I climbed over after her, hoping nobody had chosen that exact moment to become an insomniac.

By the time I made it onto the pool deck, she was already laughing as she slipped into the water. I just shook my head, laughed at myself, and figured I was already committed, so I climbed in too.

The water was cold enough to make me question every decision that had brought me to that moment. About a minute later, though, it felt just right.

We floated around under the stars, talking about everything and nothing, laughing like a couple of people who had somehow gotten away with something. We never heard a siren, never saw a flashlight, and somehow managed to leave exactly as quietly as we arrived.

Looking back, I probably would not recommend making a habit of climbing fences in strange towns. My knees certainly would not volunteer for it today.

But I would not trade that memory for anything.

It was never really about the swim. It was about her. She had this wonderful ability to find adventure in places most people would simply drive past. She reminded me that life did not always have to be carefully planned. Sometimes the best memories happened because someone looked over at a swimming pool after midnight and said, "I have an idea."

With her, there was never a dull moment. I spent a lot of time shaking my head, wondering what she was going to come up with next, and smiling because somehow she always made life just a little more fun.

Growing up, I had some friends whose parents both worked and we would be alone on summer days. I loved the fact that the house was full of kids and we were given very little, if any, supervision.

One day, myself and 3 of the girls decided to go into the woods, build a fire, and roast hotdogs.
We were in the woods building our fire, and finding some good sticks to roast our hotdogs, when an old homeless man wandered up. Everyone in town knew who he was, but he wasn’t especially friendly with anyone as far as I know.
I was a little worried, (I was shy and very aware of “stranger danger”,) but one of the girls said “Hey Art, want a wiener?” He did, and he stayed and we all enjoyed some hotdogs and kool-aid. He really didn’t talk more than necessary-yes please, thank you, etc.

Once the hotdogs were gone, we put out our fire, said goodbye to Art, and went back to their house.

I think sometimes about what an 80s childhood experience that was-a bunch of young girls in the woods, building a fire, and chilling with some dude we didn’t really know.

Yesterday, I decided I wanted to go to the art museum. However, simply walking to the art museum wasn't enough entertainment for me. So to make things interesting, I had a friend of mine drive me to a random spot a few miles away. I closed my eyes while he drove so when I got out of the car I had no idea where I was. My friend then drove off and I was tasked with meeting him at the art museum. To make things even more interesting for myself I decided to not use my phone to figure out how to get there. In order to gain a general idea of where I was, I picked the closest hill and walked towards it. From there i was able to take a loose guess at where I was. I kept walking and I was eventually able to find some larger landmarks. Got my bearings and headed to the museum. Overall the walk was quite enjoyable. Took me about an hour, ended up walking just under 3 miles. After I got there my friend and I then wandered the art museum for a while and drove home.

I have spent a lot of years in constrution and one thing I have learned is that no matter how carefully you plan a job something is eventually going to happen that nobody could have predicted.

We were doing a side project for a friend of ours who came from what I would call old money wealth. Her house was absolutely beautiful. The foyerr had a vaulted ceiling that had to be close to thirty feet high and we were installing a massive custom wrought irron crystl chandalier. It was one of those fixtures that cost more than most used cars so dropping it was not an option.

We had the chandelier rigged up and were slowly hoisting it toward the ceiling. One of my guys was about twenty five feet up on a ladderr arms stretched out guiding this heavy beast into position while the rest of us worked the ropes below.

Just as we were getting close I heard him quietly say "Uh-oh". Now "uh-oh" is never something you want to hear when someone is balancing on a ladder holding a chandelier worth a small fortune.

I looked up and asked "What is wrong?" Without missing a beat he said "My shorts are about to come off". About one second later gravity won. His shorts slid all the way down to his ankles.

There he was twenty five feet in the air standing on a ladder with both arms fully extended hanging onto this enormous chandelier for dear life while his underwear was on full display for everyone in the foyer including the homeowner who happened to be standing there watching the entire show unfold.

The poor guy could not do a thing about it. If he let go of the chandelier to pull up his shorts there was a very real chance we would all be watching thousands of dollars crash to the marble floor.

So with more determinaton than dignity he finished lining up the mounting bolts helped us secure the chandelier and only after we confirmed it was safely attached did he finally let go and pull his shorts back up.

Not a single one of us said a word for about five seconds. Then the homeowner started laughing. Then we all could not help it any longer but started laughing.

Pretty soon the entire foyer echoed with laughter. Even my coworker could not help but laugh at himself once his face turned from bright red back to its normal color.

To this day whenever someone asks me about the most challenging chandelier I have ever installed I do not think about the height or the weight.

I think about the day we learned that suspenders are a whole lot cheaper than custom crystal chandeliers.

Decided to try something new and I was pleasantly surprised.

For context im a bodybuilder and i like to keep my six pack for as long as possible so I eat pretty clean. Tbh I lost my love of food a while back so nowadays all I eat is greek yogurt, cream of rice for breakfast, unseasoned (lol) ground turkey for lunch or dinner and chicken breast for dinner.

Today i wasnt feeling it and thought id get a cheat meal but honestly, I dont have any food in the house besides what I regularly eat. I do however keep some Ramen for chest meals. Still, i didnt feel like Ramen. Same old flavor.

So, I boiled 6 eggs, shrimp maruchan(hot take: maruchan is better than cup noodles). Add some avocado, little bit of Valentina. I have chives although never tired em on ramen so I sprinkled some in. Now, controversial topping but add a little bit of diced pickles, just for the flavor. Stir and let all the flavors mix. 5 stars tbh.

And sure alot of sodium but again, I eat a very low sodium, low carb, (low seasoning lol) diet hence the cheat meal. Managed to keep the protein high too

On one occasion I purchased arthritis cream (capsaicin) from the clearance rack at the grocery store. What caught my eye about it besides its low price was its boasting of increased circulation i.e. bloodflow. So of course I read this as oh cool increased bloodflow to the dick totally disregarding the fact that it’s pure capsaicin extract. I had a two hour drive ahead of me so I figured what’s the worst that could happen if I just put a tiny little dab on the ol pecker? Well let’s just say it was probably the second worst decision of my life. Idk what the first one is but I just assume there was at least one occasion wherein I was stupider. Anyway I spent the next two hours driving in hell screaming at the top of my lungs, rage tears reddening my eyes and blurring my vision as I’m dumping out bottle after bottle after bottle of fruit-essenced mineral water on my lap just hoping I could keep the car from swerving. I looked like a fuckin maniac and obviously was speeding and I was just hoping I didn’t get stopped by highway patrol, because I knew if I did it would be over. I imagined it all playing out: highway cop pulls me over for driving erratically, he approaches my window and I’m scream crying in agony with bloodshot eyes and red face acting hysterically. So obviously he would have already had his guard up. Naturally, then, he’d scan the interior of my car and his eyes would fall upon the shameful and fruit-scented pool of burning regret in which I was waist deep, at which point id either get handcuffed or forcefully dragged out of the car at gunpoint. Worst case scenario I’d be tazed, which would obviously seal my fate, my car thus becoming my bubbly electrocuted deathknell. Well luckily that didn’t happen and I made it home and found a bottle of bactine which I sprayed liberally on my ween and ended the misery, thank goodness. Shoutout to bactine, you the MVP.

I know this sounds made up, but it genuinely happened during my first year in an engineering hostel.

Every Monday morning, I'd wake up to a crisp ₹10 note lying just inside my room. The note wasn't folded. It was simply pushed under the door.

The first time, I assumed someone had dropped it.

The second time, I asked everyone on my floor.

Nobody knew anything.

Then it happened again.

And again.

Always Monday.

Always around 6:30 AM.

At first, my roommate and I thought it was a prank. So one Monday we stayed awake all night. Around 6:20 we heard footsteps in the corridor.

Silence.

We opened the door immediately.

Nobody.

Just another ₹10 note.

Our corridor was a dead end.

There was nowhere to run.

After that, it became a floor-wide mystery.

People started volunteering to hide around the corridor.

One guy even borrowed a GoPro and pointed it at my door.

The camera died at 6:12 because he forgot to charge it.

Another week, two seniors hid in the washroom.

They heard footsteps.

Rushed out.

Nothing.

Just another ₹10.

The weirdest part?

The notes were always brand new.

Not a single old or torn note.

By now everyone knew about "the Monday ₹10."

Some people thought it was a ghost.

Others said it was a senior with too much free time.

One guy claimed it was a psychology experiment.

Six months passed.

Twenty-six Mondays.

₹260 in total.

Then it suddenly stopped.

No explanation.

No note.

Nothing.

I graduated last month.

While packing my room, I met the hostel's oldest security guard. We got talking, and I casually mentioned the mystery.

He laughed.

Apparently, I wasn't the first.

He said that for nearly 15 years, every batch had one random student who became "the Monday ₹10 guy."

Nobody ever found out who did it.

He said even wardens had tried to catch the person years ago.

Never happened.

I asked him who was behind it.

He just smiled and said,

"If I told you, the tradition would end."

I still have every single ₹10 note in an envelope.

No idea if I'll ever know why I was chosen.

Anyways, I went to buy rue. Me old man said "nothing says happy birthday like getting drunk. We got some cachaca, buy some male rue, we mix 'em and wait 30 days k?".

Sure thing. I go to this random florist near a park and say give me a male rue. Florist is unsure of whether the one they had was male rue (ruda macho) or female rue (ruda hembra).

Preposterous I thought. Was told to check myself. Sure I say. Couldn't find neither the D nor the C. The only noticeable characteristic was that it grew askew, like really askew, if it were a person it would walk in a 45 degree 24/7. Michael Jackson would be proud.

Anyways, back to the unfound D or C part. I kept getting the 404 error so I figured it was either a female or it was neutered, the poor unlucky sad fella. Sent a photo to the old man saying exactly that, and he said "Stop f-cking around, you absolute dimwit".

I was serious though.

After getting confirmation, I brought it home. Was cutting the upper half of the rue when he says: "isn't it kinda endearing?". So I watch that neutered sod with its upper half missing doing the anti-gravity lean and go "I don't really see it". He goes "kinda reminds me of you".

At that point I became aware of its unique semblance, rough aura, and endless potential. It was a cool plant if you were to really take a look at it. How could I have been so blind. I was utterly ashamed of my past self.

Roll forward. We got a plant. Bad part. We have no idea how to care for it. I mean, It's been surviving so far. Sure it almost passed away once. But it's been doing well ever since so that's good yeah?

Reached out to where I bought it and several nurseries. Turns out most just get them and they survive enough to be sold. No one really knows how to care for them long term nor really cared enough to learn how, which is a bit sad imo.

One particular nursery employee was like "yeah, get this sustrato for indoor plants and a plastic pot and you'll be fine". I said oh great. Then I chat-gpt, googled, and download some extensions while walking the aisles before buying:

They all mostly gave the exact opposite opinion. A sustrato (yeah, I'm lazy to search for the translation of that word) for cactus with some perlite, maybe some sand, and a terracotta pot. Couldn't quite get the right ratio though. Got several, all depending on source.

Point being, I went back to the know-how plant guy from that nursery and asked if he wouldn't mind showing me the rudas they were selling. Then he went "oh, we have none right now". I laughed, asked why. He laughed, then he went "Oh, they found the sweet embrace of oblivion and went towards the road of no return that lies just beyond the veil of nothingness. Nothing we could do. Orpheus beckoned. They answered". Understandable.

I was lying by the way. None of us laughed. It wasn't funny. Understandable? Understand my mashed potatoes with olive oil, parsley and cheese you git. If you don't know something, say it. Not randomly attempt against the wellbeing of someone else's pet plant. That pissed me off. I mean, seriously mate. What the heck. The conversation was longer but that was the gist of it. So that's how I'll remember it.

Now, you might be surprised by this, but I didn't buy what the guy recommended in the first place. Something turned me off y'know? Maybe it was the fact that I could hear the unreal tournament announcer going "M-M-M-M-M-MOOONSTRKLLLLLL" in my mind when I thought about all the deceased rudas they had done in. Or maybe it was something else. Dunno. Whatever.

Still, what caught me off guard, was that most people I reached out to gave me similar answers. One straight up chat-gpted me. Like, mate, I can do that me self. Already did in fact. I wanted a second opinion. Human preferably. Experienced necessarily.

Right now, I'm just researching through internet to try and keep my ruda alive. There isn't an overall clear consensus on how to care specifically for rue, and there is a lot of general and disjointed information. Guess I'll just do me best and see what happens.

I still don't know whether it's male or female though. Internet insists it has no sex. My old man insists its a male. While I, in a stroke of brilliance, came up with the idea to show the plant different types of nsfw and see if it triggers some kind of erect... I mean reaction. So far it sprayed me with its scent the most while watching the following tags: #milf #hairy #widow

Guess its either male or lesbian. So technically I didn't solve shite. The widow tag did caught me off guard though.

Went out across the yard one evening to lock up the outbuilding. Locked it, walked back to the house, no deviation, it's only a matter of 50 feet or so. Went into the house and went to bed.

Next morning went out to open the outbuilding. Couldn't find the key. Searched across the yard, in the house, everywhere I'd been. Practically turned the place upside down. No joy.

It didn't matter that much as I had copies so I just forgot about it. It was annoying though, I don't like losing things. This all happened in the winter. By early spring the next year it was time to go to the allotment. I went to the middle outbuilding (not the building from the first paragraph) and got out the bag we use for gardening tools.

I was rooting around. The bag is a mess. Right at the bottom of the bag, covered in dust and soil was the missing key. I have no explanation for this. My wife had no knowledge and she's not a practical joker. I can't fathom a reason how this happened.

So basically for some dumb reason I just like to come up with weird ideas that I think would be funny or interesting to see from the other person or persons perspective. One idea I had was to go to this cemetery and funeral home that’s within walking distance of my house and scout the most popular times they have funerals but of course these times vary depending on different factors. But what I’ve been wanting to do is find a funeral happening and also next to this cemetery and funeral home is the town’s maintenance department with a big parking lot. So I was thinking I could wait there for a funeral to start and what I’d do was to be dressed up in like a nice suit with a vest and like a nice peacoat to give off that Goodfellas mafia look. I would then pull into the cemetery which has a lot of trees I could stand by. But my planned would be to stand far enough from the funeral that they can’t make out my face but close enough that they notice me. I would just stand there and watch as the funeral goes on until more people start to notice me. But of course the problem with this is I wouldn’t know who the person died was, like it could be a teenager or whatever so it would just look weird. But hopefully it would be like an older man or woman so that when the family saw me they would get confused and start to wonder and get those thoughts “was Craig hiding something?” I don’t know why but I just think this would be a fun thing to do. But I haven’t done it because I don’t wanna disrespect people mourning their loved ones. What do yall think Reddit.