Thought Catalog


14 Women Share What Their Boyfriends Do That Immediately Gets Them In The Mood

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 07:00 PM PST

amyjhumphries
amyjhumphries

1. “My boyfriend plays guitar, and when he plays a song he made just for me, my heart melts a little bit. How could that not get me in the mood?” —Dana, 22

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2. “I love it when he comes up from behind and wraps his arms around my waist. If he kisses my neck, it’s go time.” —Katie, 24

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3. “Sounds so corny, but I love it when he says I’m beautiful. Even if I don’t believe him, it’s just so much more appreciated than, ‘You look hot.’ When he uses the word beautiful I’m instantly more attracted to him.” —Ashley, 25

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4. “He has this cologne that I absolutely love. It doesn’t have that obvious cologne-ish scent, it smells more like he just got out of the shower. When I smell it on him, I’m like ugh I WANT YOU.” —Sarah, 24

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5. “When we’re laying in bed and he snuggles up next to me and kisses my neck, he basically knows it’s my weak spot. Not fair.” —Nicole, 23

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6. “This ages me about 10 years, but if he does the dishes, he will definitely get laid. I like to show him how much I appreciate it so that hopefully he does it again. It’s like training a puppy, that sounds terrible, but it’s true!” —Valerie, 26

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7. “I always get really turned on when we workout together. I’ll see how good he looks, and it not only makes me super horny, but it makes me do that extra sit up with no complaints.” —Cara, 24

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8. “He made a sex playlist that instantly makes me horny. Now any time I hear the song ‘Trumpets’ by Jason Derulo I think of us having sex. But I mean that song is super sexual so I’m sure that happens to a lot of people.” —Nina, 25

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9. “Sometimes he will sext me while I’m at work, and as soon as I get home I want to tear his clothes off. I’m always super paranoid my coworkers are staring at my phone over my shoulder, but in a way that makes it even hotter.” —Lisa, 25

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10. “When he cooks for me. I don’t even care what he’s cooking, just the fact that he’s preparing a meal. Sometimes he’ll wear an apron, and I think it is the cutest thing ever.” —Talia, 26

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12. “I loved going to his basketball games in college. When I would see him all sweaty and serious it was an instant turn on. If the team won the sex was always heated (in a good way).” —Hailey, 23

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13. “I always get really turned on when we workout together. I’ll see how good he looks, and it not only makes me super horny, but it makes me do that extra sit up with no complaints.” —Krista, 25

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14. “I love it when he grabs my neck while we’re kissing. It just feels so firm and confident, and it makes me feel like he wants me.” —Gina, 23 TC mark

15 Signs You’re A Culturally Intelligent Person

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 06:23 PM PST

Twenty20 / sabrinafvholder
Twenty20 / sabrinafvholder

Cultural intelligence. It’s not a phrase you might hear often but it’s long past time to change that.

Intelligence as a function of “book smarts,” “rational” and “logical” analysis, and knowledge production and reproduction, has long been the center of societal praise. Emotional intelligence (EI) has also received some limelight in the last twenty years. EI  emphasizes the importance of observing and comprehending emotional states and feelings of the self and the other.

Cultural intelligence as a concept has not yet enjoyed the same popular success despite living in a more globalized and accessible world. But what does one mean by cultural intelligence? Like many concepts in social sciences and humanities, the definition is more broad than narrow.

My definition of cultural intelligence is as follows: Cultural intelligence is the ability of an individual to recognize the cultural perspectives of one’s self and another, through a historical comprehension of context and power, in relation to social groups and identity.

While giving a definition to experiences is part of the purpose of being a student or scholar of culture (or any academic discipline, really), many people have lived-experiences or experiences of identity that have not been labelled, or where the definition is unknown to them. For example, one might have been an “emotionally intelligent” person before emotional intelligence became part of the cultural vernacular. The same is true for cultural intelligence.

The following are 14 signs you’re a culturally intelligent person:

1. You understand the importance of the individual. You understand how important their sole choices are, and that they come from somewhere. And you understand that the place – the culture or many cultures they identify with, will always play a role in their perspectives and experiences.

2. You appreciate that people are not the sole function of the culture(s) they identify with. You understand that any individual may be closer to or farther away from the characteristics that are associated with any one culture. And that regardless of their distance to these cultural characteristics, they can still identify with said culture.

3. You know that who people are, is influenced by a multitude of identities. These identities include race, ethnicity, gender, sex, sexuality, religion (or lack thereof), political affiliation, etc. You understand that identity is an ongoing dynamic process throughout one’s life.

4. You have an unrelenting curiosity about people’s stories. That is, you seek to understand their past experiences at different stages of their lives in relation to who they are. You appreciate that the more you understand a person’s history and interaction with different groups or lack thereof, the more you understand them.

5. You have a strong desire to learn things in new and different ways. Whether reading alternative histories or personal accounts, traveling for the sake of educating yourself, or challenging yourself to become conversational in a language, you believe in continuous and diverse learning.

6. In your analysis of political, social, cultural, and media events and occurrences, you first begin with context. For you, understanding the factors that affect the beginning of things and the social climate in which phenomenons take place, largely explains why and how they come to fruition.

7. You know how to ask good questions. People often think that asking questions is something that can be done as is – without education or tact. But the difference between a good question and a bad one can be the difference between a good discussion and a bad one. For you, diligence and humility precede questions in important social discussions.

8. You recognize the importance of empathy in human interactions overall. When confronted by a cultural feature that challenges your most fundamental beliefs, no matter how difficult, you will showcase empathy. This doesn’t make you a pushover, it makes you someone people can approach for a listening ear about a contentious topic.

9. You believe in simple things but you don’t believe in oversimplifying things. You know that culture can be simple when approached with the right lens. But you also know that culture and its many facets can be inherently complicated. And in a rush to reach solutions, understanding a feature of culture should not be (over) simplified.

10. You know how to dialogue respectfully. Culturally intelligent people know that mere disagreement does not equate attack. That you can respect an argument and even consider it valid, while also countering it. But you also know that there are facts in the real world and in real experiences that must be respected.

11. You speak when you know, you listen when you don’t. When you understand something, either by education or experience, you’ll always be willing to add to the conversation. But when you don’t understand something, you prefer to sit back, listen, absorb, and try to find out as much as possible.

12. You choose to understand the things you fear or the things that bring you discomfort. Like everyone else, you have your own beliefs and values, but rather than fear things you don’t know, you become curious about them. You do this to lessen your fears and discomforts but also to try to see things from another person’s point of view.

13. You actually listen to people when they express cultural concerns. Rather than get defensive about your actions or words, you try to understand why someone may have the perspective they do. You take their perspective into consideration and navigate how to move forward in a similar context next time.

14. You believe that differences are good things. You know that people, despite their differences, have some fundamental similarities that they can appreciate. But you also believe the differences between people are things to learn from and value; not things that inherently have to cause division. To you, diversity is beautiful, not divisive.

15. You enjoy the grey of life. Culturally intelligent people love the grey – the questions that don’t have easy answers or maybe don’t even have any singular answer. They know that people and things and life are complicated. And they enjoy seeing all the different ways the culture of everything plays a role in everything. TC mark

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The Real Reason We Need to Stop Trying to Protect Everyone’s Feelings

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 05:55 PM PST

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Daniella Urdinlaiz

Like every kid, I was forced to read Fahrenheit 451 in high school.

If you'd asked me what it was about before last week, I would have told you: "Firemen who burn books."

And if you'd asked me why on earth they did that, I would have answered just as confidently: "Because a tyrannical government wanted them to."

There is a trend afoot to conveniently remember the works of authors like Ray Bradbury and Aldous Huxley as warnings against distant totalitarianism and control. But this only scratches the surface of what these books are about.

Earlier this year a community college student in San Bernardino protested being required to read a Neil Gaiman graphic novel in one of her classes. It was too graphic, apparently. Her father—who does not seem to understand that his daughter is a separate human being (an adult one no less)—told The Los Angeles Times, "If they [had] put a disclaimer on this, we wouldn't have taken the course." A mom in Tennessee has complained that the gynecological information in the book in the bestselling nonfiction science book, The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks, is too pornographic for her 10th grade son.

While these conservative complaints about the content of books is unfortunately as old as time. We're also seeing surge in a different type.

A Rutgers student has proposed putting trigger warnings on The Great Gatsby. Robin Thicke's song "Blurred Lines" was banned on many college campuses for promoting rape. Last year, Wellesley students created a petition to remove an art project featuring a lifelike statue of a sleepwalking man in his underwear in the snow because it caused "undue stress." Controversial speakers (many conservative) have been blocked from speaking at college commencements. Pick up artists—never convicted of any crime—have had their visas revoked due to trending Twitter hashtags.

In August, Jezebel ran the headline "Holy Shit, Who Thought This Nazi Romance Novel Was a Good Idea?" I remember thinking, "Um, probably the fucking writer who spent a lot of time writing it." Whether they succeeded at making anything good, I cannot say, but should they be shamed for trying? It's not as if there aren't good books of Nazi love stories. In fact, there is one called The Reader!

The people in these examples are certainly a bit ridiculous—but by no means bad. None of them see themselves as censors, naturally. They were being sensitive,outraged, protective or triggered. And to be fair, most of their complaints and protests stop short of actually saying "This should not be allowed anywhere."

But that distinction matters less than they think.

Let's go back to 451, which I found myself re-reading recently. It begins with Guy Montag burning a house that contained books. Why? How did it come to be that firemen burned books instead of putting out fires as they always had?

The firemen have been doing it for so long they have no idea. Most of them have never even read a book. Except one fireman—Captain Beatty—who has been around long enough to remember what life was like before. As Montag begins to doubt his profession—going as far as to hide a book in his house—he is subjected to a speech from Beatty. In it Beatty explains that it wasn't the government that decided that books were a threat. It was his fellow citizens.

"It didn't come from the government down," he tells him. "There was no dictum, no declaration, no censorship, to start with, no!"

In fact, it was something rather simple—something that should sound very familiar. It was a desire not to offend—of an earnest notion to literally have "everyone made equal." And it's at the end of this speech that we get the killer passage:

You must understand that our civilization is so vast that we can't have our minorities upset and stirred. Ask yourself, What do we want in this country above all? People want to be happy, isn't that right?…Colored people don't likeLittle Black Sambo. Burn it. White people don't feel good about Uncle Tom's Cabin. Burn it. Someone's written a book on tobacco and cancer of the lungs? The cigarette people are weeping? Burn the book. Serenity, Montag. Peace, Montag. Take your fight outside. Better yet, to the incinerator.

And before you get offended, let's clarify what Bradbury means by minorities. He's not talking about race. He's talking about it in the same way that Madison and Hamilton did in the Federalist Papers. He's speaking about small, interested groups who try to force the rest of the majority to adhere to the minority's set of beliefs.

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I don't mean to cherry pick. I see no need to pile on to college students as being particularly responsible for the "coddling of the American mind." (Great piece, read it.) Though I do find it ironic that we require kids to read this book in high school and just a few years (or months) later, they're leading the charge on exactly the kind of well-intentioned censorship Bradbury was talking about. I don't mean to say that these examples come close to the kind of overt censorship that every reasonable person dreads. But I do mean to say that they come from the same place—and very alarmingly—ultimately end together in a much worse place.

In the 50th anniversary edition, Bradbury includes a short afterword where he gives his thoughts on current culture. Almost as if he is speaking directly about the events above, he wrote: "There is more than one way to burn a book. And the world is full of people running around with lit matches."

There's that saying: The road to hell is paved with good intentions. When it comes to censorship, one might say that the road to thought and speech control is paved by people trying to protect other people's feelings.

It's important to realize that today, we have a media system paid by the pageview and thus motivated with very real financial incentives to find things to be offended about—because offense and outrage are high-valence traffic triggers. We have another industry of people—some call them Social Justice Warriors—who, despite their sincerity of belief, have also managed to build huge platforms by inventing issues and conflicts which they then ride to prominence and influence. One might call both of these types Rage Profiteers. They get us riled up, they appeal to our notions of fairness and empathy—who likes to see someone else's feelings hurt?—without any regard for what the consequences are.

Of course, the real and fair solution is much less politically correct but effective. It's to stop trying to protect people's feelings. Your feelings are your problem, not mine—and vice versa.

Real empowerment and respect is to see our fellow citizens—victims and privileged, religious and agnostic, conservative and liberal—as adults. Human beings are not automatons—ruled by drives and triggers they cannot control. On the contrary, we have the ability to decide not to be offended. We have the ability to discern intent. We have the ability to separate someone else's actions or provocation or ignorance from our own. This is the great evolution of consciousness—it's what separates us from the animals.

What also separates us is our capacity for empathy. But how empathetic the speech we decide to use is choice for each one of us to make. Some of us are crass, some of us are considerate. Some of us find humor in everything, some of us do not. It's important too—but those of us that believe it and live our lives by a certain sensitivity cannot bully other people into doing so too. That sort of defeats the purpose.

There is a wonderful quote from Epictetus that I think of every time I see someone get terribly upset about one of these things (I try to think about it when I get upset about anything): "If someone succeeds in provoking you, realize that your mind is complicit in the provocation."

He said that some 1,900 years ago. Even then we felt that it was easier to police the outside than examine our inside.

Control and discipline of one's own reactions make for a successful person and a functioning society. I don't think you want to live in a world where that isn't the expectation of each of us. I don't think you want to see the things that will need to happen when the burden of making sure everyone is happy and not offended is put on the government—or worse, a corrupt and bitter blogosphere.

But that seems to be the road we're going down. Even though we've been warned. TC mark

17 Men And Women Reveal The Traits They Consider Relationship Non-Starters

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 05:05 PM PST

Twenty20.com danrsbaker
Twenty20.com danrsbaker

1. GIRLS WHO CRY TOO MUCH

"I refuse to date a woman who cries ALL the time. I'm sure you know the type. Does her mom have a slight head cold? She's crying. Does she need the oil in her car changed? Crying again. Did something really good happen to her? Still crying. No. You can cry when one of your relatives die or you stub your toe, but otherwise I refuse to be someone's human Kleenex dispenser."

—Geoff, 24

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2. GIRLS WHO TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK AND TALK

"I hate a girl who talks and talks and talks and talks and talks. And ONLY about herself. What's that you say? You went to the mall today? Then you saw this bitch there that you hate, so you did some shit-talking on her Facebook wall? And you're thinking about getting your nails done? Um, that's all really great, but I have to go."

—Alex, 22

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3. GUYS WHO STINK OR HAVE YELLOW TEETH

"Hygiene problems. Guys who stink or have yellow teeth. But especially dirty fingernails! I don't want your filthy claws anywhere on my skin, and they definitely ain't going up my cooch!"

—Maria, 21

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4. GUYS WITH SOUTHERN ACCENTS

"Southern accents. I don't care how cute a guy is—if he opens his mouth and starts speaking with a twang, my vadge dries up so fast you can hear it creaking. The deal is off, done, over, and canceled. I will never give it up for a guy who sounds like he's a roadie for the Blue Collar Comedy Tour."

—Melinda, 23

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5. DRUNK GIRLS

"Drunk girls are gross. If they're always so drunk that they have a red clown nose and can't remember where they are or why there's vomit all over their shirt, and if they're the kind of girl who takes three shots and is suddenly sticking their tongues down the throat of everyone at the bar, male and female, my horoscope would tell me that's not the girl for me."

—Erik, 22

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6. MEN WHO WEAR SANDALS

"Sandals on a man, aka 'Mandals.' If a man has ever worn sandals in his life, he doesn't have a chance of ever seeing, tasting, touching, or penetrating my vagina. That may seem harsh, but we all have our limits. I will run as fast as I can from a man wearing sandals and he'll never be able to catch me—because he's wearing sandals! Ha! Feet are gross, but especially hairy, gnarled, knuckly, fungus-covered boy feet. Keep them shits covered. It should be a crime for men to wear sandals—a felony, even. Wearing 'shoes' that expose your toes is like wearing pants that expose your asshole."

—Amie, 28

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7. WHINY GUYS

"Guys who whine. I don't care how bad your life is—have some dignity about it, dude! There's nothing less sexy than overemotional, hypersensitive men. If your mom didn't properly wean you, it's not for me to coddle and emotionally let you suckle the life out of me. Man the hell up. Nothing more unattractive than a man who won't shut up about his feelings."

—Melinda, 23

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8. WOMEN WITH RASPY VOICES

"If a woman has a raspy voice. I hate that. I don't want a girl who sounds like she's just been eating cigarette butts from dirty ashtrays. I don't care how good she looks or how young she is—if she has that scratchy old-hag cancer voice, I'm out."

—Sam, 21

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9. WOMEN OUT OF MY RACE

"I don't date women out of my race. If you have a problem with that, well, hey, not my problem. It's a free country. I don't have a problem if other people want to do it; it's just that I don't want to."

—Bill, 33

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10. BEARDS

"Beards. Can't stand the beards. Get rid of the beards. I've never kissed an gorilla's asshole, but I imagine it feels and tastes somewhat like kissing a guy with a beard. Yuck. Shave or GTFO."

—Greta, 22

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11. CLINGY GIRLS

"Clingy girls. I mean, like, girls who are already making wedding plans after the first date or who blow up your phone with forty gazillion texts and pictures of cats every day. It's not like I don't want a girl to like me, but I don't want them to smother me, either. If after only one dinner and a movie she's telling you that she can't live without you, I think that's a good sign to pull a ghost move."

—Tom, 27

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12. GIRLS WITH A BAD REPUTATION

"Girls with a bad reputation. They usually have a a bad rep for a reason. And even if they're trying to 'improve' themselves, I don't want to have to be the one that nurses them through that whole delicate process of therapy and rehab and genital creams. I don't suffer any desire to help mend broken people. I have my own problems."

—Justin, 26

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13. MUST LOVE PETS

"If a guy doesn't like animals, that's a huge sign that he's a worthless asshole. Animals have purer souls than men do. Plus, to be honest, I don't think he'd like being around my two dogs and four cats. So basically, if you want to date me, you're agreeing to 'date' my pets, too."

—Donna, 28

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14. GIRLS WITH DADDY ISSUES

"When a woman has daddy issues, that guarantees she will one day seek to work those issues out all over your face, your reputation, your career, your car windshield, and possibly your life. Don't become the daddy she's always wanted to kill! Ask her how she feels about her dad. If she says anything even a tiny bit negative, thank her very much for her time and tell her you're gay."

—Matt, 29

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15. MEN WITH NO SENSE OF HUMOR

"If a guy doesn't have a sense of humor I would rather go down on his mom than ever have sex with him. So many guys—OK, all of them—are basically stumbling idiotic diaper babies, but if he's not even aware of that or can't at least laugh at himself, then I will laugh at him for his own sake. I won't fuck him, but I will laugh at a man with no sense of humor, because he is nature's most pitiful creature."

—Jenna, 22

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16. DON'T EVER USE THE WORD 'MOIST' AROUND ME

"If he ever uses the words 'meal,' 'moist,' "nurturing,' or 'nourishment,' I will nope the fuck out of that potential relationship. People think I'm kidding, but those are absolute deal-breakers right out of the gate for me. Those words make my skin crawl. Plus, if he doesn't have any money, I don't want to have anything to do with him."

—Sara, 27

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17. SPARE ME YOUR SEXUALLY TRANSMITTED DISEASE, PLEASE

"STDs. Nope. Not happenin'. I don't care if you learned your lesson. If what happened in Vegas stayed on your dick, I'm not interested."

—Amber, 26 TC mark

What I Wish I Could Tell Other People About My Depression

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 04:03 PM PST

kirillvasilevphotography
kirillvasilevphotography

I’m 20 and have been suffering with depression for the last six years. In that time, I’ve gotten somewhat used to explaining it to my family and friends in an awkward and painful manner. However, there are always leftover things that probably should be said, but have not found their way into the conversation. In a perfect world, I’d be openly honest about things, and have the ability to just spurt out words. But, it’s not a perfect world, so there are always leftover things I wish I could say.

I wish I could tell my family that a month of therapy after a suicide attempt didn’t cure anything. All I really did was stare at a wall and nod for an hour a week. When I moved across the country after that month, it wasn’t to get away from them. I thought a new change of scenery would cure me. I was so wrong and being 2,000 miles away and doesn’t feel any less lonely. I wish that, when my mom calls and asks how I’m doing, I could tell her the truth. Not the bullshitted “I’m okay, I guess”, that I usually respond with. “Okay” is a bold faced lie. I’m not really “good” or “great.” I’m barely “okay.” I’m still sad and I just don’t want her to worry more than she needs to.

I wish I could tell my dad that I feel guilty all the time. When he tells me how wonderful this second chance at life is, after going through a massive heart attack, I agree in an encouraging voice. Simultaneously, my inner monologue just says “oh my gosh, I just want to die. I want to die so much.” I just constantly feel the guilt of not being as appreciative of this life as my father is, but I can’t just say that.

I wish I could tell my roommate that I’m really not as lazy as I seem. The reason I sleep all the time is because sleeping is this pause from being completely miserable. When I’m awake, the reason I sit on our couch watching Netflix all day is that it distracts me from wanting to constantly die. I do really care about your day, but it’s so much easier for me to just say “welcome home” and call it a night. I wish I could explain how hard it is living with someone who doesn’t seem to get it. I can feel the judgement when she comes home from work and sees me lying on the couch watching The Office again.

I wish I could tell all my friends that it’s not them, it’s me. I’m bad at keeping in touch with everyone but I like seeing what they’re up to on Facebook. I look at all our old pictures and see the smiles from ear to ear, and I miss those memories. I’m not meaning to push them away, it’s just what I do as a way of coping. I don’t want to bring them down because nothing I used to enjoy is fun to me anymore. I’m not purposefully ignoring them, but I’m a mess. Every aspect of me is messy and I don’t know how to get clean. I don’t ever feel content. When we are laughing and I stop half-way and get quiet, it’s because the sadness has crept up and attacked all of a sudden. It’s a lot to deal with and I don’t want to put that on anyone.

I wish I could tell my teachers that I’m honestly trying so hard. This semester has been harder than I anticipated. I wish I could openly apologize for the paper I wrote that was half a page shorter than required, because I sat at a coffeehouse and cried into my cup of coffee for an entire weekend while trying to write it. I wish I could say that I’m sorry for not giving 100% to all six of my classes. I hardly have a sense of motivation, but I’m trying so hard. I wish I could tell them that I have to wake up hours before my alarm goes off, so I can stare at my ceiling and try to find the will, somewhere, to get up and make it to their class on time. I wish I could tell them that I may cry in my car on the way home, but I’m trying. I promise I’ll still plaster a smile on my face and tell stupid puns in class and try to get through the semester.

I wish I could tell everyone around me that I know how tired I look. The smile on my face isn’t honest, but it’s there. I’m tired, but I’m here. I see you noticing my half smiles and tired eyes, and I just wish I could tell you that I’m tired of trying with no sign of getting better. I wish I could tell you that I don’t feel like a person anymore because I don’t remember what it was like to have interests or to smile for the sake of smiling. I wish I could tell you that the reason you see me in the same blue and white plaid shirt so often is because it’s the only security I can find. It’s my uncomfortable comfort zone.

I wish I could say all of this and more. I wish I could tell people that, seeing others happy makes me feel so void. I feel guilt and pressure to be even a fraction as happy as they are. The pressure builds up so much, that I should be a diamond by now. I know people are out there who might understand, but onloading any sort of emotion makes me feel like such a burden to everyone. I wish I weren’t too afraid to say it to anyone. I’m trying really hard to be strong. Sometimes, it’s so difficult because no one is strong for the strong ones. I’m trying, I promise that I really am.TC mark

10 Wives Of Motorcycle Gang Members On Life As A Biker Bitch

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 03:00 PM PST

(Wikimedia Commons)
(Wikimedia Commons)

1. WHAT YOU SEE ON TV IS CRAP

"If you think bikers’ girlfriends are typically toothless, droopy-chested, leather-toting drug addicts, then you are amongst the thousands of others who know nothing about us! If you think we are all violent and get beat up by our gigantic biker boyfriends, that ten kids from 9 marriages or my favorite, that we are all uneducated criminals and strippers…you’re sadly mistaken! I for one am a college grad; I own my own company and don’t do drugs or drink….What you see on TV is crap and not all biker communities war with one another, but rather where I live every MC of every color embraces the same principles: honor, respect, and brotherhood…family."

Wild Child

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2. OUTLAW BIKER WOMEN ARE VERY MUCH SECOND-CLASS CITIZENS

"The outlaw biker women are very much second-class citizens in that testosterone-driven life….These clubs are not democratic organizations, ruled by the many for the good of the all.…They are run very firmly by men who usually clawed their way to the top of this primal food chain, and considering the general savagery of the ordinary member, that's impressive….Women must be outwardly submissive, be thick-skinned about sexist attitudes, and be able to get along reasonably well with the other women….I resented the assumption that my vagina automatically rendered my intellect inferior to a person with a penis and a three-piece patch."

Catherine

beetlejuice

3. I LEARNED MY PLACE AT A VERY YOUNG AGE

"It's not a lifestyle, it's a way of life. I grew up around clubs, and I learned my place at a very young age. When my Ole Man says 'My Ole Lady knows her place,' it's a very nice compliment, and it also means that I get to go out and party with him….I work and play in a man's world and I know my place….Yes, women need their outlets, but telling real men they are wrong makes me angry."

Holly

beetlejuice

4. LEARN TO PLAY THE ROLE OF HIS VERY OWN ‘WHORE’

"When your ol’ man takes you places with him or when he has company at home, DON’T talk too much! Try to be friendly and polite but NEVER, EVER just jump right into the middle of their conversation. If there’s anything a good man can’t stand, it’s a woman who talks too damn much!…You should always be enthusiastic about sex. Put a little effort into it. You gotta want to please him….If you got a problem w/oral sex, GET OVER IT! All men love it, want it, need it. If you offered your old man a blowjob right now it wouldn’t matter what he was doing; he’d stop long enough to take you up on your offer. And I can guarantee you that if you NEVER EVER offer him a blowjob, he would take any woman up on her offer for one right now….Don’t ever swing on him in the heat of an argument if he smacks you first. Maybe you got outta line and out of control and needed to be smacked to snap out of it. In case you didn’t notice, women can turn into lunatic psycho bitches….Don’t expect him to kiss your ass, just get a piece of it….Clearly all women, except those who NEVER give it up, are whores to a certain extent. Men end up paying for sex one way or another, so learn to play the role of his very own ‘whore.’"

Shelly

beetlejuice

5. YOU ARE TREATED WITH RESPECT

"I’m an ol’ lady [and] have never been or seen another ol’ lady passed around (that would be Hells Angels, not Outlaws). If a woman wants to put it around, of course there will be takers, but generally the Properties wouldn’t have too much to do with these. Being a Property is actually an honor; you are treated with respect and the Property patch lets others know not to bother you. Aside from popping to the bar or giving someone a plate of food, which all of us do freely and are happy to do so, we are far from the slaves some people like to say we are."

Ol Lady

beetlejuice

6. IT COST ME SOME SEX

"I grew up around bad boys from both Pagans and Warlocks; I saw how they treated their women back in the old days, of the 60’s and 70’s it wasn’t half-bad but it certainly was not quite right for me….Again, I hung out because I liked the free drugs, booze and so it cost me some sex….From what I have seen in recent years, you have women who are ‘property’ of certain clubs and members and you have women who, just like groupies of rock bands, hook up with some stranger on a bike and live the life with him/her for a few weeks till they get dropped off at some truck stop or decide they have had enough, and return home, or take off with some other stranger."

Janice

beetlejuice

7. MY PLACE IS IN THE BACKGROUND

"First, I understand that I am not a member of his club. It is a privilege for me to be allowed in his world. I love my man and I know my place in this environment. I have the choice to either conform to the rules or walk away….As my man's personal property of (P.O.), I am on the set to support him and attend to all of his needs. I am important to him. Unlike my sisters that are the chapter's property, I am only dedicated to taking care of my man….I am an alpha female with a very strong personality, but I know my place in this environment….My place is in the background. I know this is his club and I don't run shit. He is my king and I am his queen. My place is to satisfy my man and make him happy."

—Ole' Lady

beetlejuice

8. LEARN TO SUBMIT

"There will always be a male responsible for the actions of any woman that is a part of this outlaw set. There are also sisters who will harvest any woman to make sure she understands this set. Harvesting a sister means that a more experienced P.O. will spend time with our sister and help her to understand her place in this environment. We help her to remove her old way of thinking and grasp the lifestyle of our outlaw brothers:
• Learn to submit
• Adhere to authority
• Show respect
• Speak when spoken to
• Maintain being a lady
• Understand the brand
I think some women are brainwashed into believing they are superior to men, and that's just not the truth….Adam from the Bible represents strength, and Eve was created as his help meet to support her man. That is the same thing we are doing. Supporting our own! A true P.O. will serve the brotherhood in whatever way she is needed. Wipe noses, lace boots, pop collars or any domestic-related things our brothers need. "

Property Of

beetlejuice

9. I AM A BIKER CHICK BY CHOICE

"In my experiences with being with the club and around old-school bikers it was not unusual for the guys’ ‘old ladies’ to be free with their bodies, and that included having fun with people other than her ‘old man.’ Some may not agree with that idea or concept. I do and I feel that my personal lifestyle mirrors that feeling and belief. This doesn't mean that I mess around with everyone. This doesn't mean that all biker chicks are sluts, and not all biker chicks are like me. I am who I am, I had no say in being born a girl, but I am a biker chick by choice."

Patricia

beetlejuice

10. MY MAN’S FIRST LOVE IS HIS BIKE

"My life is pretty uneventful. Why? Cause I’m in love with a biker lol. With that comes many sacrifices. Most of which are mine. My man’s first love is his bike. Second is his lawn mower. I guess as long as he riding something he is happy. Then it’s the kids, then me. At least I hope I come after kids. So that pretty much sums up my life. He works all week then is gone all weekend. Ugh, rereading this is depressing."

Biker Wife TC mark

Seriously Gross: 19 True Tales Of Horrifying Bathroom Emergencies

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 02:00 PM PST

via Flickr - bandita
via Flickr – bandita

1. Shark Attack Survivor

“There’s nothing worse than walking down a street, minding your own business, when you feel the sticky warmth of blood running down your legs, safe in the knowledge that you have forgotten to pack any sanitary products, and recently spent the entirety of your money on christmas presents. By the time I made it to a bathroom to stuff tissue in my underwear, I looked like the survivor of a shark attack.”

2. A Personal Nightmare

“This is true. I remember it awkwardly at least once a day. It hurts my soul.

I went to a friends wedding in a small town far away. We drank beyond what any sane people would drink that Friday night, got up hungover, he gets married, then we hit the reception. I black out and my buddy drives us back to the room. I wake up in my tux about two hours before my plane is to depart. Haul ass to the airport with my friend, both tremendously hungover. We get through security and I am so nauseated I cannot stand it. Down a huge gatorade and bottled water to try to rehydrate. I duck into the bathroom about two minutes before boarding to clear out the bowels, praying it would relieve the nausea. It doesn’t.

I boarded the plane in a cold sweat. I was sitting in the second row. A nice old woman comes and sits beside me. She has a bag of something that I can smell. It is food of some sort. I swear to you on my life I had my first true panic attack right then. The smell of that food…. I knew then and there that I was going to vomit. I was sweating so bad, the old lady asks me if I am okay. I say yes and stand to excuse myself allllll the way to the back of the plane to the restroom. The flight attendant tells me to sit back down, we are backing away from the gate. I argue for a second, but I know deep inside it is too late. I started crying and shaking. I am a grown man and I am sitting beside this tiny old lady with a bag of what is apparently rotten broccoli crying my fucking eyes out. The attendant comes back. I am inconsolable. Everyone is looking at me like I am a fucking terrorist. It is building. I am panicking in my head that I will shit myself as I vomit all over the row. Finally my body decides it is over, because fuck you for drinking for two straight days motherfucker. I reach in a panic for the airsick bag and pull it out. I will never forget the look on that poor little old lady’s face. She is gripping both armrests and arched back away from me. Her eyes were the size of dinner plates. The attendant is asking me to calm down, everyone is looking, and I let loose. The gatorade and Aquafina are still in my stomach, so it is a massive stream of red vomit. Real demonic looking shit. The bag is about halfway full when I begin farting uncontrollably. The only thing that saved me from shitting on myself was the preflight bowel clear. I involuntarily am squeezing the bag, red puke is all over my lap and seat. The old lady is screaming and trying to push her way out past the attendant. I am crying and puking and farting relentlessly. Nightmare.

I had to ride two hours with these people. They had all witnessed a small personal nightmare.”

3. Ice Scraper

“When I was a little kid, my dad went into a grocery store and left me out in the car. I had to take a shit. I waited & waited & waited but my dad never came… so I took a dump on the floor of the car and then used his ice scraper to shovel it out the door. When my dad got back to the car, he stepped on it hahaha.”

4. India

“Years ago I was living and interning in India for a summer and would usually take train trips to different cities over the weekends.

One weekend I was on an overnight train and was stricken with a terrible case of food poisoning half way to my destination.

I made my way to the bathroom (squat toilet) on a moving train and proceeded to have explosive diarrhea while simultaneously vomiting all over the place.

Shitting and barfing hovering over a squat toilet on a moving train with many hours to your destination really makes you take inventory of your situation.

I have never experienced that level of bathroom related drama in my life. It was the perfect storm.”

5. The Eastern-Style Toilet

“I was a 15 year old exchange student in Thailand. After a week of eating the local food without allowing my body to adjust from its natural Canadian habitat I found my self to be relatively constipated. One day I was traveling through a remote Thai village when I got a sudden urge to empty my bowels. Understandable considering I hadn’t shit in a week.

I asked a local to point me to a bathroom, and after a few minutes of ass-clenching and waddling I found the entrance to a Thai-style bathroom.
Now anyone who has ever used a Thai Toilet will realize that it can be very intimidating if never seen before. I, coming from a western country, had NO idea how to use this, and if I could have waited until I reached a western style excrement removing device, I would have. Alas, the urge was too strong, and I commenced squatting.

I proceeded to unleash a hurricane of spicy-diarrhea stew into the dry toilet. A solid-liquid spray lasting for 15 or more seconds. After substantially loading up the toilet, I breathed a sigh of relief and looked around for toilet paper.

Well what do you know, there wasn’t any. Apparently you are supposed to bring your own ass wiping device, and I hadn’t known. The only 2 objects that could be utilized to help clean my drain-pipe were a grungy looking loofah and my hand. Opting to not risk contracting some ass-communicable foreign disease from the loofah, I proceeded to use my hand to wipe up the slimy somewhat chunky mixture and rinsed it off under the tap.

Some may be shocked about how nonchalantly I just cleaned myself, but let me explain: I was DESPERATE. I felt like shit, I was panicking, and I had no idea what I was doing. So at that point it was an everything goes deal.

After wiping I guessed I was supposed to fill the bowl with the water from the bucket, so I did. However, my recent recipe of goulash had rendered draining the water (no flushing) impossible, so it ended up just filling to the top with murky brown stinky water.

By then I was on the verge of tears: I still felt sick, I was in a strange place, and I had no idea what I was doing. So I just decided ‘fuck it’ and opened the door to go outside…

And was greeted by a LINE of 8-13 year olds. I had apparently used a local school bathroom without realizing it, and they had just started their break. I turned bright red and just high tailed it out of there, leaving behind a steaming bowl of shit soup, a horrendous smell of partly digested chicken and pork, and a gaggle of middle school Thai kids.

Never felt so guilty and disgusted before… but I have also never felt a relief as satisfying as emptying ones bowels after a week of spicy asian food.”

6. Crying And Pooping

“If you don’t know anything about menses, let me preface this by stating that the first day of the cycle is often the worse, and most girls get the shits while on their period.

About two and a half years ago, I had just spent the night at my boyfriend’s apartment. I’m sleeping soundly in his arms when my stomach rumbles so loudly that it wakes me up. I feel the familiar pain of period cramps, but they’re nearly 10 days early, so I dismiss it as a side effect of my boyfriend’s sizable penis. He’s still sleeping pretty soundly and we’re in the spooning position; I don’t want to wake him by moving, so I lay there for a while while my abdomen cramps. I have to fart and decide that I can get away with it…

HUGE MISTAKE

My brand new boyfriend wakes up to the sensation of something warm and wet on his dick. The smell doesn’t hit us until he lifts up the covers to investigate… it is a delightful mixture of poo and pennies. Apparently I covered his junk in a light spattering of both shit and period blood. I am on the side of the bed against the wall; he gets up so I can run to the bathroom. I sit up and the blood just pours out of me. On the mattress, the sheets… it’s just everywhere…

We sprint to the bathroom together and he starts the shower while I destroy his toilet. I have never, ever shit in front of someone before. I’m traumatized, just crying and pooping and pouring blood all at the same time. By the time I flushed the toilet, I’ve decided that I can never see him again.

And my boyfriend just laughs. Then comforts me, kisses me, tells me ‘shit happens,’ then has sex with me in the shower. Needless to say, I married him.”

7. *Shudder*

“I lived in the country and would eat a lot of raw vegetables when I was very young (6-12).

I started losing weight for some reason and my parents just thought it was because I was in a growth spurt or something.

Then for 2 weeks I felt really bad, went to the doctor he gave me some anti-parasite meds and sent me home.

He failed to mention that I would be passing a humungous tape worm later that week and I freaked out when I was mid shit and could see this dark black snake looking thing coming out of my ass.

I finished crapping but this thing wouldn’t come all the way out so I had to reach back and pull it the rest of the way out. (Gag!)

I didn’t tell anyone about it for years.”

8. The Honeymooners

“On my way back from my Honeymoon I had decided to stop at a Taco Bell. Mind you this was a in the back woods of Kentucky Taco Bell Express. The Chili Cheese Burrito being my favorite I didn’t even look at the menu and ordered away. Then he proceeded to tell me: “We don’t have any deep fryers.”

At the time the big campaign was the 1 pound burrito. So assuming that’s what I wanted he sold me two. What I walked out with somewhat resembled burritos, and weighed a fuck ton more than 2 pounds. The wife took one look and said no, and decided she wasn’t hungry anymore. I inhaled mine…

After getting on the highway again, the bubble-gut hit me. Of course the next exit is SEVERAL miles down the road. By the time we get to the next off ramp I’m doing the anal butt clench of death, and I shit you not there’s the oldest fucking lady driving an old jalopy 2 miles an hour down the off ramp.

When I finally pull off to run inside the only place to stop here drum roll a Taco Bell. I stop yell ‘GET THE KEYS!,’ and race inside, past a crew of kids waiting to clean the restrooms, slam the stall door, drop trow, and let loose the most foul smelling shit storm I never thought possible. It was BAD BAD BAD BAD BADDDDDDDDDDDDDDD. After cleaning up, of course I failed to do a courtesy flush and it starts coming up after me.

So I do the due diligence and RUN THE FUCK OUT! Of course the wife is now inside ordering her Taco Bell (OH FUCK NO!) and the kids start walking into the bathroom (OH FUCKING HELL!)…

I sternly (read that as a demand) tell her: ‘WE NEED TO MOVE NOW!’

Got back in the car and raced away…

In the rear view, yes I saw the kids running out of Taco Bell after me.”

9. I Love Peppers!

“When I first moved to China, a group of really attractive Chinese girls that worked for our company decided to take me out to lunch before my first “welcome to x company induction” class that evening. I wanted to make a good impression and be like all cool and stuff. So we’re at the restaurant, and they tell me that originally they’re all from Sichuan province (known for its spicy food) and they ask if I like spicy food. Sure I say, the hotter the better. I’m really only trying to impress them, but i figure how hot can it be? So I tell them to order it as spicy as it can get, I love peppers!, i want to eat it like they do, and some other idiotic stuff. They’re impressed and they order this meal that is literally coated in tiny shriveled dark red peppers. It was hot and it brought tears to my eyes, but I put on a good show and ate everything.

A few hours later, I’m sitting in this orientation class, and my stomach rumbles and immediately i can feel the taste of the peppers in my mouth again and I feel like if a bathroom were present, i could make use of it. I look at the clock and see I still have 45 minutes and it would be insanely rude to get up and leave. So i just decide to wait and concentrate on the lecture.

About 15 minutes later, I am UNCOMFORTABLE and squirming around. I pass a bit of gas quietly to help relieve the pressure and it felt someone lit a match on my bunghole and the smell was instantly suffocating. One of those omg, no warning, blitzkrieg on the nose, bury your face in your shirt and lynch the guy responsible types. Nobody figured out it was me but by this point i am in agony. I have 10 minutes to go and im almost sweating. My bunghole feels like Mount Doom and I'm afraid its going to start leaking sulphuric acid.

Finally the class is dismissed and as professional as I can, hurry quickly to the mens room (which looked like this) As I rush in and begin to very loudly take care of business, my cell phone rings. This was back in the day when having ringtones were still cool. Mine at the time i had this painful incident? Ring of Fire

A few days later I was telling a buddy about my new found allergy to peppers and he’s like ‘yep when you eat it, you think about it hot going in, but never how hot it will be coming out.'”

10. ‘It Sounds Like You Spilled Water Or Something’

“19 years old and staying at my Dad’s house for the weekend. I had come down with a stomach bug and was on the toilet every 5 minutes all afternoon just pushing this horrible liquid mess out of me.

At one point I run in and sit down quickly to let out whatever leviathan was next in line to escape my body, when I get that familiar feeling in the pit of my stomach that I WILL be throwing up soon. My mouth is watering, the back of my throat is dropping, and I’m searching for a proper receptacle. I find a small mesh garbage can, but I don’t want to make “a mess” so I figure I’ll jump off the toilet, turn around vomit into it, then jump back on and finish the shitting aspect.

Pretty straightforward – so now I’m kneeling in front of my toilet with my pants down as my gut clenches up with the first waves of vomit.

At the very instant I started vomiting every muscle in my body started clenching up and 3 gallons of liquid poopy sauce erupts from my ass all over my Dad’s bathroom.

I turn around and notice I have covered the entire wall, floor, rug, and even have hit parts of the ceiling with this ass explosion.

I kind of just sit down and take it all in for a few minutes, but then realize I’m in the family’s main bathroom and my parents and sibling are all eating dinner not more than 3 feet from where this happened.

I hear a ‘are you ok it sounds like you spilled water or something?’

HAHA if only – so I spend the next two hours cleaning up everything with toilet paper. I didn’t want to ruin towels or anything. I emerge 2 hours later with a spotless bathroom behind me, my Dad says “damn son it really smells like crap in here”

I just agreed. This experience has made me a better person…

11. No TP

“Once in Italy I was absolutely desperate to use the bathroom. I walked all over the city for a public restroom, getting more and more antsy about it. You know the pins and needles, shivering kind of desperate? Yeah, that bad. Eventually, I turned a corner and saw the golden arches of McDonald’s- I swear they were glowing and there were trumpets playing it was such a glorious sight. I sprinted up to the store and into the bathrooms, sat down to do my thing, then realized there was no toilet paper. I thought, no worry, I can just use receipts. Open my wallet- nope, I’d cleaned it out the day before. I sit there for a while trying to decide if I really want to wipe myself with a 50. In the end I decide not to because I heard that all euros have drugs on them. And I don’t want to put any drugs down there. Finally after much deliberation, I decided there was only one thing for it- I had to use my own underwear. Whipped them off, wiped clean, and disposed of them (in a bin, I didn’t flush them) and strutted out of there right into a lingerie shop to buy a new pair.”

12. Marital Bonding

“My parents and some other family members went to Punta Cana, Dominican Republic last year and stayed at an all-inclusive resort. They got a suite that had an open layout so the toilet was behind a wall but no door and there was a hot tub in front of the toilet. The food at the resort must have been bad, because everyone got sick. My mom ran to the bathroom to throw up and she ended up shitting at the same time. It sprayed the walls and the jacuzzi tub and the floors. Everywhere. My stepdad was in the room at the time, and from seeing that happened, he started throwing up. Then he started shitting his pants. They both tried to clean it up, but ended up throwing up and shitting in the jacuzzi tub in front of each other several times. This repeated almost every day on the trip.”

13. The Beach

“It was the summer after my freshman year at college (so 3 years ago), and I was in the Bahamas. My cousin and I were swimming in the ocean, and he wanted to go back into the hotel room, so he left. So there I am, swimming alone, when i get the urge the poop. Now I thought it was one of those ‘I can forcefully hold this in the water, it’ll go away, and then I can go when I get back into my room.’ Well I was wrong.

Five minutes go by and then I start walking up the beach because it seems like i’m holding in the worst shit of my life. I reach the sidewalk and I start sprinting up and down, trying to find one of those help desk things, I finally do and ask the lady where the nearest bathroom is. It was about 30 feet away and I thought I was in the clear.

Well I get into the bathroom, run into a stall and then I notice my bathing suite was tied…fuck. So as I’m untying my bathing suit I just start shitting….and as I finally sit down I notice it was all over my thigh, on the floor, and on the toilet seat (behind me). Then to top it all off, there’s no toilet paper.

I then see a janitor’s hand go under the stall and he hands me TP and says ‘I think you’ll need this.’

14. Blue Cheese On Pizza

“I ate a slice of pizza one summer. It was a slice of buffalo chicken/blue cheese. I should have paid better attention, the ‘blue cheese’ on the pizza looked to be salad dressing. That had been sitting under a heat lamp for an undetermined amount of time. In July.

Yes, it was bad. I had gone to the bar that night, and was halfway through a beer when I realized “oh fuck, this is food poisoning.” So I had to make the mad dash for home.

Which included A) a fifteen minute walk to the train station B) five minutes waiting for my train, C) a twenty minute train ride and D) a twenty minute walk home from the train station.

I knew that once I opened the floodgates, I wouldn’t be ale to move so I didn’t want to risk a public bathroom so I just clenched both ends and suffered. The worst was the last leg of it, when I was walking home from the train station. By then I was just looking for yards with big enough bushes for me to just go and befoul. Stupid suburbia.

I did make it home, and when I made it to the toilet I barfed for like twenty minutes. and then my ass blew up. All weekend, just puking and shitting and shivering and sweating for three days straight.”

15. The Dance

“In high school I was invited to a school dance by my best friend’s ex. I get to this dance and I’m trying my best to be a good date without breaking the bro code when the girl in question grabs my junk. It is important to say that I suffered from high anxiety and, often enough, irritable bowel syndrome. So my stomach lurched and I ran into the only bathroom in the gym where the dance took place to find that there were ~20 guys packed into the tiny room containing only one stall. I had to wait in line to get to the stall and when I finally sat down and tore ass, all of the guys on the outside started banging on the stall doors and howling at me. I sit in shame until the room is mostly clear and get up to leave only to find out that the tail of my shirt had been in the toilet the whole time and was filthy as…well, shit. Thankfully I had my pocket knife on-hand so I just cut about one foot of material off of the back of my shirt and pulled the poker face all night.”

16. On The Bus

“Mine is a pretty embarrassing story. I was in High School, probably 14-15. First day of the year. Im wearing basketball shorts (this detail will come handy little later). As soon as I get on the bus, I feel the urge to poop a footlong. When I’am talking about urge I mean business, like if i had the choice to vomit it, there would be no hesitation. The bus ride is about 45 minutes with a transfer after 20. Arriving at the depot, I’m running for the public bathroom, as filthy as it was. Of course, it’s fuckin closed because of maintenance. I couldn’t believe it. Went and sat with friends on the second bus, and I was ready to explode. I didn’t say a single word and tried to look as normal as possible but I was cringing and couldn’t stop moving on my seat. Arriving at school, the usual 5 minutes walk looked like 5 hours. Naturally, as soon as I entered the school, I couldn’t hold myself and starting shitting pellets all around the hall to the bathroom. Like rock solid stuff. Maybe 4-5 dropped before I could arrive to the bathroom. Remember, I was wearing basketball shorts.

To this day, I still don’t know if someone saw me and I kept imagining the janitor who had to pick up the shit.”

17. The Hair Dryer Savior

“I’ve had my fair share of bathroom emergencies (lactose intolerance for the win!) but this one was by far the worst/best of recent memory.

About 2 years ago, I was camping with my family. We decided to go out to eat one night instead of cooking over a fire – and went to a local seafood place. The food was amazing, and I ate wayyyyy too much greasy and deep fried amazingness for my stomach to handle. The icing on the cake of my stomach? Stopping for ice cream afterwards.

As soon as we were done my bowels started to churn that special feeling. I knew I needed to get to a bathroom, and stat. We were only 5 minutes away from the campground so I decided to hold it for then. As we got closer, I was more and more nervous I wouldn’t make it, which made me more nervous and therefore more pressure and rumbling. I felt like I was going to explode. I finally asked to be dropped off at the bathroom near the entrance of the campground – which ended up helping me out nicely, for this bathroom had showers and electricity.

Our car pulled up and I jumped out before we even stopped moving. I waddled my ass into the bathroom and found the closest stall I could get into. Normally, I am extremely bathroom shy and can barely piss with other people around, let alone drop a shit storm. And that night, the bathroom was chock. full. of. girls. Prim, proper, “I hate camping but my family dragged me along” teenagers. THE WORST. But this situation called for no shame. I barely had the door shut and my pants down before all hell broke loose. The loudest, gnarliest, nastiest sounds and smells came forth from my ass. No human being, let alone FEMALE, should ever produce anything like this. This should have embarrassed me out of the campground for life.

HOWEVER! At the exact moment hell unleashed from my bottom, one of the girls turned on her hairdryer. The sound COMPLETELY drowned out my agony. It was the most perfect timing. Normally I curse girls like this who can’t live a moment without looking perfect (and c’mon, bringing a hairdryer CAMPING!?)…but that day, I was praising her existence and persistence to do so.

Shockingly, my body emptied itself in that quick first round. I courtesy-flushed and sat a few minutes to make sure I was in the clear. When I went to stand, my legs were shaky. I was light headed. I felt like I just gave birth to some horrible demon, and I was TIRED. But the gaggle of girls had left, and I was able to exit the bathroom practically anonymous. I stumbled back to our campsite like I had gone through war. But I survived.”

18. The Pleasure Cruise Of Doom

“Behold, the terrifying & inspiring story of the PLEASURE CRUISE OF DOOM.

I was on holiday in Australia, a student of modest means, yet desiring to experience the maritime adventure of the Great Barrier Reef. In Queensland, the shorter the distance to the reef the more expensive the ticket on a tourist boat. So I opted to depart from Cairns. The weather was breezy, and there were some waves…I inquired of the Captain whether the conditions were too rough. He smiled reassuringly and said that they were expecting wind of ‘only 15 knots or so.’ Knowing nothing of the ways of pirates, I shrugged and boarded. The trip was supposed to take about 3 hours, arriving at a sand bar from which we could relax and snorkel.

There were 30 other passengers, and approximately 10 crew. The boat was 3 stories, 2 above board and one below. The voyage began pleasantly with much excitement about seeing all the tropical fish and colorful coral formations. Ahead, I saw darkening clouds and white-capped waves. A sense of foreboding grew within me, and over a period of 15 minutes, the mood on board darkened. Soon the boat was rocking & the crew was passing out life vests. By the time each passenger was equipped, the boat was rocking violently…the waves were taller than the boat and we were canting at an angle…as we went up the boat would rock to the left, and as we went down to the right…to such an angle that one could reach out and touch a wall of water that stretched to the sky. I feared we would capsize. But I soon learned, there were darker forces at work…

I was on the deck level at the rear of the ship…there were other passengers on the second level. Then the fateful curse floated past…’I think I’m going to be sick.’ Naturally, on a boat there’s not much in the way of bathroom facilities, and so we soon learned the art of improvisation. Over the noise of crashing waves I heard a bestial moan which could hardly come from the lips of man…Eyes wide with terror I look up to see a fellow passenger clutching the railing…as we pass the mid point in our arc, she’s looking up and opens her mouth wide enough to swallow a rubbish bin, and proceeds to projectile vomit…time stands still and I witness the partially digested contents of our catered lunch suspended in mid air above me…I count several shrimp, gobs of biscuit, mash of eggplant…and fervently praying that this gallon of goo will sail peacefully to its watery demise…the time stop spell begins to wear off and the boat rocks the other direction…all of us afraid to let go of the railing lest being swept out to sea, the boat rocks to the side, catching up with the suspended goo…and the poor woman ends up reuniting with her creation.

Shivering with the shameful laughter of schadenfreude, & the selfish relief of not sharing her fate, Neptune reigns down swift Karmic justice upon me. Overwhelmed with despair & disgust at her plight, she vomits again. This time, looking down…the projectile vomit a bulls-eye…on me. The stench of the stomach acid & warm shrimp quickly overpowers me, and I too projectile vomit…just as the boat has reached the end of its arc and I’m face to face with a wall of water…The stream hits the wave and I end up with a mouthful of seawater flavored vomit…I turn away not wanting to drown, and complete (my first wave) of vomiting upon my neighbor’s horrified face.

The curse gaining power, a chain reaction forms…within an instant all 30 passengers and 10 crew were enveloped in an orgy of projectile vomiting. Groans of agony echo throughout the ship…and the curse will never lift…for as one person finishes, another person starts, which only inspires others…the stench is inescapable…and so the cycle repeats…soon every surface & article of clothing is soaked…the deck becomes slippery with out collective creation.

By the time we reach the calm waters protected by the Reef, everyone is exhausted & defeated. We have surrendered our dignity eons ago, and are wantonly wallowing in the witches brew. Salty sea dogs & land lubbers alike rejoice at the presences of a sandbar where we can recover. And yet, the captain cruelly instructs the slop boy to hose out the ship, which takes several hours as we wait for the storm to pass. A man beside me remarks to his son, “that’s why you want to go to college, so you don’t end up with his job.”

And so I learned, beware 20 knot winds, for they carry foul breathe upon them.”

19. The Client And The Police Officer

“This is more situational than gross. I was out at a closing dinner with management from a company I had signed up as a new client. One of the people on the management team lived near me so he offered to drop me off instead of letting me take the train/subway. We all say our goodbyes and I get in the car; almost immediately the guy says to me that he might need to make a stop.

So I don’t think much of it, we’re chatting, and he starts talking less and less over the course of about 15 minutes and looking more and more uncomfortable. I asked if he was alright, started kicking out some ideas for places to stop (I thought he had to piss) and he keeps saying its ok.

We’re getting close to my place, he hasn’t said a word for about 5 minutes, and all of a sudden lets out this banshee-like wail out of nowhere. I’m actually frightened at this point; for some reason I thought he was having a stroke and kept trying to remember that stupid acronym. Anyway, so after a few seconds, the familiar scent of cheap Chinese food stewed in stomach acid for 8-10 hours and exploded out the rectum reaches my nostrils and I grasp the enormity of my circumstances.

He immediately pulls into an abandoned warehouse parking lot and hops out of the car, goes to the trunk and grabs something, then runs off behind a tree. So I’m pretty confused at this point and I start looking around and realize his seat is actually covered in shit and there is some splashback around the steering wheel and door (I somehow was spared collateral damage). Anyway, just as I finish assessing the damage, a cop pulls up behind the car with the lights flashing.

The cop comes up to the car and just then the guy with my waddles out from behind a tree and starts running towards the car. He had wrapped himself in a sheet which was covered in shit stains (he had apparently tried to wipe himself up) and carrying his shit soaked pants, which were dripping. So the cop takes one look at the guy and one whiff of the car and says, ‘You know what, fuck it.’ Gets in his car and drives away.

Epilogue: Guy got back in the car and did not say a word to me other than goodnight when I got out. I threw away my clothes and huddled in the shower in the fetal position alternatively laughing and crying for about a half hour after I got home. He has never spoken a word to me about this since.” TC mark

20 Great Lessons You Can Learn From A Terrible Date (So It Wasn’t A Complete Waste Of Your Time)

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 01:00 PM PST

Twenty20 / amyjhumphries
Twenty20 / amyjhumphries

1. A good date could quickly turn into a bad date just like a seemingly right person could turn out to be a wrong person. Your mission isn't to make it right but to see how it goes and make a decision accordingly.

2. There is one reliable sign that someone likes you: they are around you. If they are always absent, they don't give a fuck about you.

3. You don't go on dates to prove yourself to anyone. Your best strategy is to be yourself and simply have fun.

4. Body language doesn't lie. And your intuition is probably right.

5. A person who cares about you and respects you won't pressure you for sex when you're not ready. Vice versa, a person who pressures you for sex when you're not ready doesn't care about you or respect you. They care more about their penis and I'm not sure if they respect anyone for that matter.

6. You don't need someone who doesn't care about you and/or respect you.

7. Fixation on someone is no way to know and like someone. You don't know the person and you might not like who they truly are.

8. Your feelings are your well-being. You should respect your feelings and learn what they are trying to tell you. Instead of asking "What did I do wrong?", you should focus on yourself and ask "How does this make me feel?" and "Why am I feeling like this?" to decide on your course of actions.

9. If someone genuinely likes you, saying a wrong thing here and there or appearing less than perfect won't make them walk away. They walk away because they decide so on their own terms.

10. Interest is given, not chased after. If someone doesn't like you, it's just the way it is. It's okay.

11. How people treat you is their choice, not something you can control. What you can control is your reaction to them and the power they have over your heart.

12. It's normal to want someone's attention as a way of self-validation but trust me, you don't need this. Take a step back and put things into perspective. Do you really want this person? Your self-worth is not determined by your dating success, especially not by a stranger you've just met. Also, it's good to learn to not take things personally when it's clearly nothing personal.

13. Always. I say, always, believe what people claim about themselves even if it's a joke. That joke doesn't just come out of nowhere. It comes from a place called self-awareness. They know themselves better than you do.

14. If you have been dating someone for a while and found yourself wondering again and again whether they are really interested or not, chances are that it's a case of he/she is just not that into you. If it's actually a problem of expressing affection and emotion, you really should communicate openly with them about this. Make sure you're not strung along or taken advantage of in any way.

15. If you find yourself constantly making excuses for someone's behaviours, they are bad news.

16. Never go on a first date and ask where this is leading to. There is no need to rush. Just enjoy yourself and have a good time. Things will change and people will change, it might not end up anywhere but at least you have some good memories to remember and your time was well spent.

17. Pay attention to someone's actions, not their words. Words are cheap.

18. You will always want to make it right but you will make mistakes and it's actually a good thing. Without mistakes, you would never be able to learn and find out what works for you. At least you have tried and dared to try. There is only so much you can do anyway.

19. You meet a person and when they don't react the way that you hope or expect, you think there is something wrong with you and you try so hard to adjust yourself for them but maybe you are not supposed to and they are not supposed to. Some people are just inherently different and no compromise or hard work could solve this and it's okay.

Just stay true to who you authentically are and trust that you will meet someone who likes you just that, someone who sticks around even when you say the most cringe-worthy things on earth, someone who welcomes you, who respects you, who makes you feel human. That can be a friend, can be a lover, but that's definitely the type of people who are meant to stay.

20. Moving on is an art but it's an art that can be mastered. The first step is to give yourself a lot of time and time will take care of the rest. You're doing just fine. TC mark

This post originally appeared at The Tingly Mind.

Each Myers-Briggs Type’s Superpower

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 12:00 PM PST

Zach Dischner
Zach Dischner

INTP – Objectivity

INTPs are the ultimate skeptics of the world. This type refuses to settle for cookie-cutter explanations of absolutely anything and they are incredibly thorough in all their intellectual pursuits. If INTPs were superheroes, their greatest strength would lie in their ability to analyze situations objectively and rationally – taking personal biases out of the equation in order to determine what's really going on.

INTJ – Clarity

The INTJ's greatest strength lies in their ability to remove the 'outside noise' from their perceptions of the world and get right down to the heart of any given situation. This type sees things clearly, intuitively and precisely – naturally understanding how the world works in a holistic framework. If INTJ's were superheroes, their greatest strength would lie in their ability to intuitively understand how the world around them functions, while everyone else remains caught up in the trivialities of day-to-day living.

ENTP – Outside-The-Box Thinking

Of all the personality types, ENTPs are perhaps the most genuinely open-minded. This insatiably curious type enjoys examining issues from every available angle – which consequently allows them to come up with the most unique and impressive solutions that are available for any given problem. If ENTPs were superheroes, their superpower would be unconventional thinking and problem-solving.

ENTJ – Decisiveness

If the ENTJ were a superhero, they'd be 'Get Shit Done (Wo)Man." This highly capable type keeps a cool head and a rational mind while under pressure – they are always capable of making difficult decisions with swift, rational ease. This type's superpower lies in their unique ability to make clearheaded, outcome-optimized choices while everyone around them is losing their heads.

ENFJ – Leadership

Perhaps more than any other type, ENFJs possess the unique ability to rally and win over others. Their natural confidence and people-intuition allows the ENFJ to emerge as a natural leader in most situations. If they were superheroes, the ENFJ's superpower would be persuasion and guidance – they have a natural inclination to lead others to greatness.

INFJ – Foresight

INFJs possess the impressive ability to predict how a given situation is going to turn out for almost everyone involved. While some equate this ability to ESP, INFJs know that it is due to their natural people-intuition combining with their future-focused thinking. Understanding others on a deep level, the INFJ is often able to predict how they'll act in the future and what the corresponding results of their decisions will be. If the INFJs were superheroes, their superpower would be the ability to predict others' actions.

ENFP – Inspiration

ENFPs are the ultimate optimists – they see the best in everything they do and everyone they meet – and they possess the unique ability to inspire the best in others. This type's endless enthusiasm for the world around them – combined with their ability to chase and achieve their dreams – is incredibly motivating to those around them. If ENFPs were superheroes, their superpower would be inspiration.

INFP – Wisdom

INFPs are the ultimate 'old souls.' From a very young age, this type is keenly aware of the emotional truths that surround them and they can tune into these perceptions almost effortlessly. If INFPs were superheroes, they would be the wise sages who possess the unique ability to see the root of all human conflict and struggle.

ISTJ – Accuracy

ISTJs are incredibly adept at pinpointing the best or most correct way of going about almost anything. This type relies on only the most practical ways of getting things done, which is a skill that much of society lacks. If ISTJs were superheroes, their superpower would be the ability to pinpoint the most accurate method of getting things done, while everyone else is wasting their time on futile trial-and-error methods.

ESTJ – Efficiency

ESTJs are incredibly decisive folk. They waste no time when it comes to implementing and executing good ideas, in the most efficient way possible. If this type were a superhero, their superpower would be efficiency – the ability to actually get things done while everyone else is freaking out about the details.

ISTP – Hacking

ISTPs invented the phenomenon of 'life hacks.' This type sees the quickest and most hassle-free way of getting just about everything done. They are able to figure out new systems with ease, and quickly pinpoint any shortcuts that might be available within them. If the ISTP were a superheroe, they'd be 'Shortcut (Wo)man' – saving the world one life hack at a time.

ESTP – Capability

In a world full of deliberators and worriers, ESTPs are the least afraid to take action on what they want. Undaunted by the rules or formal procedures, this straight-shooting type is often to go after their goals. If they were superheroes, they'd be 'Capable (Wo)man' – the hero who just goes out and does the thing, while everyone else stays home and freaks out about nothing.

ISFP – Individualism

ISFPs are blatantly unafraid to show their true colors to the world – this type is inventive, unconventional and individualistic to a fault. In a world full of mindless drones, the ISFP refuses to ever conform. Their superpower is individualism – the ability to stay true to themselves despite external pressure to change.

ESFP – Charm

If any type is inherently blessed with the 'gift of the gab,' it's the ESFP. This type has an effortless knack for understanding others and catering to exactly what they want to hear. Brilliant charmers and salespeople, the ESFP's superpower truly lies in their ability to win over others. Socialization is their natural second nature.

ISFJ – Loyalty

In a world of crooked villains and volatile heroes, ISFJs prevail as the most loyal and devoted of all personalities. This unlikely hero will fight for any cause they have committed to until the bitter end. Their strong sense of duty and devotion is what sets ISFJs apart from the other types – their superhero alter-ego would undoubtedly be the last (wo)man standing in the face of any external treachery.

ESFJ – Preparedness

ESFJs are ruthlessly organized. This type is prepared for almost any worst-case scenario that could possibly arise, which means that in an emergency, you'd want them by your side. If ESFJs were superheroes, their superpower would be caring for those around them through their superior sense of preparedness… which is already what they do in their everyday lives. ESFJs truly are our natural everyday heroes. TC mark

Heidi Priebe explains how to manage the ups, downs and inside-outs of everyday life as an ENFP in her new book available here.

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How Do You Choose Between Your Best Friend And A Man You Can Maybe Love?

Posted: 10 Nov 2015 11:00 AM PST

Twenty20, vbruklynnc
Twenty20, vbruklynnc

Dear Mélanie,

Let me start from the beginning: My best friend and roommate had a crush on this guy for about a year, but since then they've become best friends and she's moved on. I really had no interest in this guy at all—until I started to get to know him and realized that we have a lot in common. Last month, I had sex with him. I came clean to my best friend immediately, and she wrote me a soul-crushing letter in response. For a while, I stopped communicating with the guy altogether to save my friendship.

Recently, though, I caved into my feelings and had sex with him again. My best friend forced me to end things, but I've developed real feelings for the guy—feelings I'm really not sure I can ignore. I don't think my friend is thinking about my happiness at all.

Is it worth pursing a relationship that could ruin a solid friendship? Where do I go from here?

Sincerely,

Stuck


Dear Stuck,

While I’ve never been trapped in a love triangle myself, exactly, I've definitely lost a friend to romance. There was a man I considered one of my best friends in the world for over a decade. I loved this man deeply—not romantically (we dated for a period in college before settling into close friendship), but as a critical partner in life regardless. Today, I no longer count him a friend. We’re civil and we follow each other on social media, but we never even speak. Why? Because he started dating a woman who was extremely uncomfortable with our bond, and, I imagine, our history.

The first time my friend really snubbed me on behalf of his new girlfriend (by not inviting me to his birthday party), I was enraged. I called him up and screamed between sniffly tears. I told him that he was being a bastard and an idiot—that our friendship was precious and he was letting his girlfriend trample all over it because she was jealous.

Do you know what he said? "I love her, Mélanie." Right then, I understood that he'd made a choice. He had decided to move on without me because the love he felt for this other woman trumped our friendship. It wasn't worth keeping me around if doing so would complicate what had quickly become the most important part of his life.

Now, as much as I miss my friend—ache for him, in fact, whenever I recall the laughs and the good times and the secrets we shared—I have to respect his decision. He had to let go of our friendship to make room for that other woman and to prove that he was committed to building a life with her. I don't know if she ever gave him an ultimatum. I don’t know if she ever clearly articulated her desire for him to unfriend me, or if he sensed, all by himself, that he had to sacrifice us for them. Whatever the case, my former friend did what was right for him, and I can't blame him for that.

The truth is that love often comes at a cost. In your situation, everyone stands to lose something no matter what happens. Alas, that's life. Love isn't practical or sensitive to everyone's feelings or all that concerned about its victims.

What you have to do is make a very difficult decision. You have to think hard about your history with your best friend, and whether or not pursuing a relationship with this man is worth demolishing that. Because make no mistake: Pursuing a relationship with this man will definitely damage your friendship, maybe even beyond repair. If one thing is clear, your friend is definitely not over this man you’ve been sleeping with, and consequently developed feelings for. She might claim to be, but her actions scream otherwise. I sense that you know this already. I also sense that you're itching to know what might transpire between you and this man, which is understandable. A strong romantic itch is virtually impossible not to scratch. And because passionate connections are truly rare, it's a pity to let them pass by unexplored.

By following your heart, you stand to lose a best friend. So you have to ask yourself: Is this hypothetical romantic relationship more important to me than my existing friendship? If this man turns out to be a great love, the bond you forge will probably seem worth sacrificing a thousand friendships because great love really is that monumentally awesome. If not, however, you might very well regret having given it a shot.

The thing is, if you don’t follow your heart in the name of preserving your friendship, you will probably end up resenting your best friend. I can sense from your email that you're already frustrated by her actions. You feel as if she's ignoring your happiness. Because she is. Just as you're prioritizing your needs, she's prioritizing hers. Each of us is programmed to survive, which requires taking care of ourselves first in almost all circumstances.

I agree that it's childish of your friend to make demands about who you do or do not have sex with, or date. But she’s probably resorted to such measures out of embarrassment and/or hesitation to own her true feelings. She has the most to lose out of all three of you—not one, but two dear friends. So try to sympathize with her distress.

The man in this equation seems to be in the best position within the group. What I fear is that he may be sending you and your friend slightly different messages—not because he's a manipulative asshole, necessarily, but because it's natural to want to keep two women who’re good for your ego around. It's nice to be wanted, so it's in his interest to keep you both happy for as long as possible.

So, what to do?

I think the only solution is for everyone involved to be honest and straightforward, which might require sitting down together and coming clean about your feelings one by one. If your best girlfriend hears firsthand from you and this man that you're really into each other, how could she deny you the right to give it a try? And if this man fumbles and fails to stand up for your romantic potential in the moment, he's probably not worth the trouble.

All three of you need more information, it seems. As of now, you're stuck in a complicated web of emotions and mixed messages rooted in competing interests, and I'm guessing you're all desperately trying to do damage control on multiple fronts simultaneously. At some point, something's got to give, and you're all going to lose something along the way no matter what. But that's okay. You will all be fine. You will all live. I wish I could offer you protection from hurt, but no one can. Even the most beautiful relationships cause great pain.

Sincerely,
Mélanie TC mark