- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
Chris Brown was my personal lolcow in 2012.
Personal Lolcows - Lolcows in your personal life.
- Twórca wątku Judge Holden
- Data rozpoczęcia
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🇵🇦 Nuestro primer dominio localizado está en español en kiwifarms.pa. Our first localized domain is on Spanish on kiwifarms.pa.
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- Dołączono
- 24 Paź 2013
Foulmouth powiedział(a):Peppy was becoming a pretty good Lolcow but then you banned him.
What sucks for Him is we finally found out how barb got the shit out of
she didn't, she threw it into the laundry to troll her son 
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
random_pickle powiedział(a):sparklemilhouse powiedział(a):
Please tell me that's in a non-sexual way.
Oh no, I mean people who fuss over them online, like one would fuss over cars or doll collections, I suppose:
http://www.youtube.com/user/ibaisaic
http://www.hollywoodreporter.com/live-f ... -16-225444
There's also a 9 year old in Britain who is obsessed with them.
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
I don't want to get into a poo discussion, but I think instead of Peppy's theory Barb just bought more at Get-Tar Region, Walmart or Goodwill, which Chris continues to do now thattobacky_vapor powiedział(a):Foulmouth powiedział(a):Peppy was becoming a pretty good Lolcow but then you banned him.
What sucks for Him is we finally found out how barb got the shit out of
she didn't, she threw it into the laundry to troll her son
is bedridden.
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
There's someone I know on flickr forever, but wow he drives me nuts around the holidays, because: http://www.flickr.com/photos/cheshireca ... 142183893/
random_pickle
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 21 Lut 2013
sparklemilhouse powiedział(a):
What the hell did I just look at?
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
He takes down everything in his room (and most of his house) and starts putting the Christmas stuff up in SEPTEMBER. I think something might be up with him, mentally wise. I know he still lives with his parents, but they're really old, so he might be their caretaker (not in the Chris sense, I think he legit takes care of them). The kids bedding he always has kinda makes me super uncomfortable. It's one thing to have vintage stuff, I don't see the issue, but when you're buying it new, and it has tink on it. uhhhhh...
People from flickr send him stuff almost every day too. I wonder if they do it b/c they're friends with him, or they do it because he begs them to...
I do want those snoopy lights tho.
People from flickr send him stuff almost every day too. I wonder if they do it b/c they're friends with him, or they do it because he begs them to...
I do want those snoopy lights tho.
- Dołączono
- 19 Wrz 2013
sparklemilhouse powiedział(a):
I want that Rankin-Bass pillow case.
jaijai
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 2 Lis 2013
SPUC, or the Society for the Protection of Unborn Children.
A British Catholic organisation (mostly old men) who are so pro-life and homophobic that it's insane. I used to go to church with my parents and every month this bloke would come from the SPUC to lecture us about the 'rights of the child' and how a homosexual lifestyle is what threatens the state of the church. I got so angry with this guy every time. What, so some stuffy man gets to tell me what to do with my body, my baby and my life, or to say that those who have abortions have no remorse? Eff that.
A British Catholic organisation (mostly old men) who are so pro-life and homophobic that it's insane. I used to go to church with my parents and every month this bloke would come from the SPUC to lecture us about the 'rights of the child' and how a homosexual lifestyle is what threatens the state of the church. I got so angry with this guy every time. What, so some stuffy man gets to tell me what to do with my body, my baby and my life, or to say that those who have abortions have no remorse? Eff that.
random_pickle
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 21 Lut 2013
jaijai powiedział(a):
Please tell me someone stood up to him.
jaijai
kiwifarms.net
- Dołączono
- 2 Lis 2013
random_pickle powiedział(a):
God, I wish. They all agreed with him.
Also, the guy debating in this is from SPUC. This is seriously what they think:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jVoERKjk58c
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
This guy who always post in the richmond craigslist:
http://richmond.craigslist.org/m4w/4235150100.html
Okay, too many pervs here. Allow me to do this right: - 23 (Midlothian (Greater Richmond area))
I'm the redhead
Some would call me a suburban redneck. "I prefer adventurer." When I'm not Attending classes at VCU or working hard maintaining the golf course (Under the sun, surrounded by fields of green, poor me ) You'll likely finding me hitting the trails, and seeing the Historical sites, revisiting the 'story of us' that happened right here in our own back yards. (I love being a Virginian =D )
Or perhaps in that moment I would be indulging my love of Italian and Greek cuisine. (And being of Celtic and German descent, it's quite the contradiction, but that's why Oktoberfest is my favorite time of year ) My latest creation: A succulent Sicilian lemon chicken with garlic-tomato sauce served over angel hair pasta.
But that's enough about me, I'm not pretentious to talk about myself forever, so let's switch gears
I will stress right now, because I have no problem meeting people, and am not desperate to meet someone here, there are certain things I don't tolerate. I don't want the typical. I am not a game, and I am not a bank. I'm not here to make someone else jealous for you. I am not interested in basing a relationship off the typical mindset of "What kind of car do you drive? How much money do you have? Where are you going to wine and dine me tonight?"
If that is you, then you're better off in some French cafe, sipping lattes and eating fancy pastries. You'll meet a stuck up, chain smoking bloke named Pierre who will provide for you your idea of a relationship: One based on things bought in a store. Will I pay your way? Yes. But do I know the difference between a true friend, who cares about me for who I am, and someone who is using me? Instantaneously.
BUT, if you are up for adventure, enjoy a variety of activities, like to try something new each week, and are a fan of the occasional, spontaneous luxury that you will NOT be expecting at the time, then you have come to the right place =D
All you have to do is be yourself. You don't have to message me a formal fact sheet and Thesis on why you are the best match for me like the other 3;942 or so users here will do. I'm not your investor, after all
Just talk, be yourself and we'll get along just fine
I'd love to have you along for the ride. Let's take a walk Through Maymont, or hit Happy Hour at Capital Ale.
Put your favorite color in the subject so I know you're not an android.
PS: I'm 23, interested in 18-27ish. My name? Tell you later. I go by my nickname, "Rooster."
http://richmond.craigslist.org/m4w/4235150100.html
Okay, too many pervs here. Allow me to do this right: - 23 (Midlothian (Greater Richmond area))
I'm the redhead
Some would call me a suburban redneck. "I prefer adventurer." When I'm not Attending classes at VCU or working hard maintaining the golf course (Under the sun, surrounded by fields of green, poor me
) You'll likely finding me hitting the trails, and seeing the Historical sites, revisiting the 'story of us' that happened right here in our own back yards. (I love being a Virginian =D ) Or perhaps in that moment I would be indulging my love of Italian and Greek cuisine. (And being of Celtic and German descent, it's quite the contradiction, but that's why Oktoberfest is my favorite time of year
) My latest creation: A succulent Sicilian lemon chicken with garlic-tomato sauce served over angel hair pasta.But that's enough about me, I'm not pretentious to talk about myself forever, so let's switch gears
I will stress right now, because I have no problem meeting people, and am not desperate to meet someone here, there are certain things I don't tolerate. I don't want the typical. I am not a game, and I am not a bank. I'm not here to make someone else jealous for you. I am not interested in basing a relationship off the typical mindset of "What kind of car do you drive? How much money do you have? Where are you going to wine and dine me tonight?"
If that is you, then you're better off in some French cafe, sipping lattes and eating fancy pastries. You'll meet a stuck up, chain smoking bloke named Pierre who will provide for you your idea of a relationship: One based on things bought in a store. Will I pay your way? Yes. But do I know the difference between a true friend, who cares about me for who I am, and someone who is using me? Instantaneously.
BUT, if you are up for adventure, enjoy a variety of activities, like to try something new each week, and are a fan of the occasional, spontaneous luxury that you will NOT be expecting at the time, then you have come to the right place =D
All you have to do is be yourself. You don't have to message me a formal fact sheet and Thesis on why you are the best match for me like the other 3;942 or so users here will do. I'm not your investor, after all
Just talk, be yourself and we'll get along just fine
I'd love to have you along for the ride. Let's take a walk Through Maymont, or hit Happy Hour at Capital Ale.
Put your favorite color in the subject so I know you're not an android.
PS: I'm 23, interested in 18-27ish. My name? Tell you later. I go by my nickname, "Rooster."
- Dołączono
- 14 Mar 2013
sparklemilhouse powiedział(a):
I saw 23 and Midlothian and got really worried it might be someone I know.
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
("cock" joke here)
Craigslist is so embarrassing to read.
- Dołączono
- 9 Paź 2013
I wasn't really sure what thread to post this story in because it could fit into both Social Justice Warriors and personal lolcows. But I think since this person is a real life acquaintance, this is a more appropriate spot. I'll put the story under spoiler like I did with the Alec and B.J stories. This is a story about my former housemate, Beth. I hope you'll find her as entertaining as I did.
Beth usually stayed holed up in her room for days at a time, emerging only to go to class and perform basic bodily functions. She loved video games but she never, ever played them. She just watched “let’s plays” on youtube and then made up Mary Sues to write about and draw.
And her Sues…she was obsessed with them. She would shoe horn them into every conversation, every school assignment, every mundane interaction you could think of.
“Beth I was thinking of making tacos for dinner. You okay with that?”
“Oh my God, if my character Nova were her she would claw your face off because she loves tacos.”
“Uhh, yeah ….so that’s a yes to tacos then?”
. . . . . . .
She was a social justice warrior and took it upon herself to police each and every object in the house for possible racism.
“Oh my God, stop drinking that!” she shrieked one morning. I immediately spat out my tea, thinking she seen a bug in it, or judging by how horrified she sounded, a goddamn tentacle.
“What! Oh my God what?!”
“That mug is totally racist.”
“The…mug is racist?”
“It’s cultural appropriation. That mug has a Japanese design on it. Those blue symbols are kanji. And you’re white.”
“I don’t think mugs can be racist unless they are like, actively insulting a race.”
“But it’s cultural appropriation, which is racist. It’s culturally appropriating the Japanese.”
“It’s not even, though. It’s Korean. It was a Christmas present from Suuyen. It says, ‘fuck mornings’ in Korean. You were there when I got it, remember? And she gave you that poster…”
“I know, but it’s racist because you’re white.”
Also deemed racist: My cactus plant, though I never did figure out why.
. . . . . .
My best friend (and roommate) Lana and I cooked dinner most nights. We had decided as a house to collectively chip in for groceries and share the food communally. It worked great for a while, until Beth suddenly stopped contributing to the grocery fund. She did not, however, abstain from spending or eating from the grocery fund. She claimed that contributing to the grocery fund was no longer her responsibility because I bought beer (she didn’t drink) with money that was supposed to be for food. This was a lie. We had a separate fund for beer and liquor for precisely that reason.
“You guys are so sexist, I hate it.” Beth announced one night.
Lana gave me a “This should be good” look. “And how are we sexist, Beth?”
“It’s always the women cooking in this house. Never the man.”
“Well, Joey doesn’t get home from work till after nine. So if we waited for him to cook, we’d be eating in the middle of the night. And I’m mean, he is taking 21 credits this semester and working full time. I feel like if anyone deserves a meal when they get home, it’s him. Plus he does pay.”
“So the man comes home and the women have dinner on the table waiting for him. How is that not sexist?”
“Because no one is being oppressed, Beth.”
“If my character, Jainis were here she would kick your asses for submitting to the patriarchy.”
Needless to say she was still perfectly content to eat the food we oppressed women had prepared for dinner, although she did through a few snide remarks about how it was a little racist for three white women to be eating curried chicken.
Never the less, Beth was a decent housemate, and I kind of liked living with her. For one thing, she was quite as a mouse and was very respectful of everyone’s light and sound needs. She also discovered where our stairs the creaked most and marked the areas with electrical tape so we would stop waking or startling each other late at night.
We invited her to play in our World of Darkness campaign (kind of like an even creepier version of Dungeons and Dragons) because we really did want to have a friendly relationship with her. Beth was thrilled; she accepted and got right to work making a new Mary Sue for the occasion.
The campaign was to be held in the evening and for some reason she felt the need to spend the whole day sequestered in her room, “getting ready” muttering to herself and laughing. When the other players finally arrived with the pizza and beer, I called up to her and asked if she wanted a slice. There was no response. I figured she didn’t hear me and called louder. Still nothing. Finally I hauled my lazy ass up the stairs and knocked on her door.
“Beth, there’s pizza downstairs. And we’re probably going to start soon, so you should come down.”
A strange voice answered me. “Ehhh, Wat isss dis pissa ya spek uff?”
What the fuck? “Yeah so. Game starts at 5. See you…”
“Yesss gurl. I wull be dere.”
I hurried back down the stairs, “Guys? I think Beth’s going to be a little weird tonight,” I warned them. This was met with the typical, “No, really?!” and “You don’t SAY”’s.
We all sat around the table waiting for her so we could start. She was definitely moving around upstairs, mumbling and crashing about. I could tell the other players were starting to lose patience and in the interest of being a good hostess, I decided to call for her once again.
“Beth! Seriously, we’re starting!”
“Paytense, gurl, paytense. Dees tings cannot be rushed.” And there was Beth. Speaking in a horrible fake Caribbean accent and dressed in a long black skirt, macramé Jamaican flag bikini top and beanie with fake dreads. It was horrible, more horrible than I could ever describe. Everyone’s eyes darted from Beth to Della, another player who had grown up in Antigua, was black, and spoke with a very heavy Caribbean accent. Della, ever kind and patent, giggled nervously but said nothing. “My name is Madame le Verre. I am voodoo priestesses.”
Lana was the first to speak up. “Hey Beth, um. It's a little cold in here? How bout putting something on over your...top.”
“Dis is da grab of me people.”
I tried to politely diffuse the situation. “Yeah…see. That’s the thing, Beth. It’s not the garb of your people. And you really shouldn’t use that accent because it kind of sounds like you’re mocking Della’s real accent.” At this, Della nodded furiously and added,
“I don’t like that, Beth. Why don’t you speak normally?”
“Who iss dis Beth ya spek of? I am Madame le Verre, voodoo priestess from da island of Haiti.”
“Beth, I can see your nipples and they’re telling me that you’re cold. Please go put a shirt on.” Joey begged.
“You guys all suck! I'm just playing a character! God! Why even invite me if you weren't going to let me play!!" She cried. Her face was red and puffy with tears. "It's not fair! You all get to play your characters!" She ran from the table and the stairs. The whole house shook as she slammed her bedroom door.
I tired to apologize to her, tried to bring her hot coco ( her favorite), tired everything. She sobbed in her room all night. I felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking back though, I think she was just being a drama queen.
And her Sues…she was obsessed with them. She would shoe horn them into every conversation, every school assignment, every mundane interaction you could think of.
“Beth I was thinking of making tacos for dinner. You okay with that?”
“Oh my God, if my character Nova were her she would claw your face off because she loves tacos.”
“Uhh, yeah ….so that’s a yes to tacos then?”
. . . . . . .
She was a social justice warrior and took it upon herself to police each and every object in the house for possible racism.
“Oh my God, stop drinking that!” she shrieked one morning. I immediately spat out my tea, thinking she seen a bug in it, or judging by how horrified she sounded, a goddamn tentacle.
“What! Oh my God what?!”
“That mug is totally racist.”
“The…mug is racist?”
“It’s cultural appropriation. That mug has a Japanese design on it. Those blue symbols are kanji. And you’re white.”
“I don’t think mugs can be racist unless they are like, actively insulting a race.”
“But it’s cultural appropriation, which is racist. It’s culturally appropriating the Japanese.”
“It’s not even, though. It’s Korean. It was a Christmas present from Suuyen. It says, ‘fuck mornings’ in Korean. You were there when I got it, remember? And she gave you that poster…”
“I know, but it’s racist because you’re white.”
Also deemed racist: My cactus plant, though I never did figure out why.
. . . . . .
My best friend (and roommate) Lana and I cooked dinner most nights. We had decided as a house to collectively chip in for groceries and share the food communally. It worked great for a while, until Beth suddenly stopped contributing to the grocery fund. She did not, however, abstain from spending or eating from the grocery fund. She claimed that contributing to the grocery fund was no longer her responsibility because I bought beer (she didn’t drink) with money that was supposed to be for food. This was a lie. We had a separate fund for beer and liquor for precisely that reason.
“You guys are so sexist, I hate it.” Beth announced one night.
Lana gave me a “This should be good” look. “And how are we sexist, Beth?”
“It’s always the women cooking in this house. Never the man.”
“Well, Joey doesn’t get home from work till after nine. So if we waited for him to cook, we’d be eating in the middle of the night. And I’m mean, he is taking 21 credits this semester and working full time. I feel like if anyone deserves a meal when they get home, it’s him. Plus he does pay.”
“So the man comes home and the women have dinner on the table waiting for him. How is that not sexist?”
“Because no one is being oppressed, Beth.”
“If my character, Jainis were here she would kick your asses for submitting to the patriarchy.”
Needless to say she was still perfectly content to eat the food we oppressed women had prepared for dinner, although she did through a few snide remarks about how it was a little racist for three white women to be eating curried chicken.
Never the less, Beth was a decent housemate, and I kind of liked living with her. For one thing, she was quite as a mouse and was very respectful of everyone’s light and sound needs. She also discovered where our stairs the creaked most and marked the areas with electrical tape so we would stop waking or startling each other late at night.
We invited her to play in our World of Darkness campaign (kind of like an even creepier version of Dungeons and Dragons) because we really did want to have a friendly relationship with her. Beth was thrilled; she accepted and got right to work making a new Mary Sue for the occasion.
The campaign was to be held in the evening and for some reason she felt the need to spend the whole day sequestered in her room, “getting ready” muttering to herself and laughing. When the other players finally arrived with the pizza and beer, I called up to her and asked if she wanted a slice. There was no response. I figured she didn’t hear me and called louder. Still nothing. Finally I hauled my lazy ass up the stairs and knocked on her door.
“Beth, there’s pizza downstairs. And we’re probably going to start soon, so you should come down.”
A strange voice answered me. “Ehhh, Wat isss dis pissa ya spek uff?”
What the fuck? “Yeah so. Game starts at 5. See you…”
“Yesss gurl. I wull be dere.”
I hurried back down the stairs, “Guys? I think Beth’s going to be a little weird tonight,” I warned them. This was met with the typical, “No, really?!” and “You don’t SAY”’s.
We all sat around the table waiting for her so we could start. She was definitely moving around upstairs, mumbling and crashing about. I could tell the other players were starting to lose patience and in the interest of being a good hostess, I decided to call for her once again.
“Beth! Seriously, we’re starting!”
“Paytense, gurl, paytense. Dees tings cannot be rushed.” And there was Beth. Speaking in a horrible fake Caribbean accent and dressed in a long black skirt, macramé Jamaican flag bikini top and beanie with fake dreads. It was horrible, more horrible than I could ever describe. Everyone’s eyes darted from Beth to Della, another player who had grown up in Antigua, was black, and spoke with a very heavy Caribbean accent. Della, ever kind and patent, giggled nervously but said nothing. “My name is Madame le Verre. I am voodoo priestesses.”
Lana was the first to speak up. “Hey Beth, um. It's a little cold in here? How bout putting something on over your...top.”
“Dis is da grab of me people.”
I tried to politely diffuse the situation. “Yeah…see. That’s the thing, Beth. It’s not the garb of your people. And you really shouldn’t use that accent because it kind of sounds like you’re mocking Della’s real accent.” At this, Della nodded furiously and added,
“I don’t like that, Beth. Why don’t you speak normally?”
“Who iss dis Beth ya spek of? I am Madame le Verre, voodoo priestess from da island of Haiti.”
“Beth, I can see your nipples and they’re telling me that you’re cold. Please go put a shirt on.” Joey begged.
“You guys all suck! I'm just playing a character! God! Why even invite me if you weren't going to let me play!!" She cried. Her face was red and puffy with tears. "It's not fair! You all get to play your characters!" She ran from the table and the stairs. The whole house shook as she slammed her bedroom door.
I tired to apologize to her, tried to bring her hot coco ( her favorite), tired everything. She sobbed in her room all night. I felt like the worst human being in the world. Looking back though, I think she was just being a drama queen.
- Dołączono
- 3 Lut 2013
Oh littlebiscuits, I see your name pop up in personal lolcows and I know I'm in for a good read. You did not disappoint. 
Obviously this girl came around right? How awkward.
Obviously this girl came around right? How awkward.
- Dołączono
- 9 Paź 2013
pickleniggo powiedział(a):Oh littlebiscuits, I see your name pop up in personal lolcows and I know I'm in for a good read. You did not disappoint.
Obviously this girl came around right? How awkward.
Oh no, she got much worse. Much, much worse. I have so many stories about her, it's not even funny. I'll have to post more.
- Dołączono
- 8 Paź 2013
I like how hypocrite she sounds when she says it's cultural appropiation over the Korean tea cup, but then she actually causes cultural appropiation with that Madame le Verre costume and accent Mary Sue shit. Especially in front of someone from the Caribbean.
She moved out, right? Do you still have contact with her?
She moved out, right? Do you still have contact with her?