Fumbledore
*my seven year old son claimed he made this up. If it’s true, I’m a proud pop!
Hes has some bad vowel movements.
If you start pooping at 11:59PM and don't finish until after midnight, that's the.... same shit, different day.
When I got mine the other day they told me I had to wait 3 weeks to get number 2.
Shit just got real.
Because they belong behind bars.
Whoops wrong sub
I have a hunch, it might be me.
They’re waiting for their turn
...but they’re a solid number two.
I thought, “I don’t have time for this shit.”
Back in the before times, when sit-down restaurants existed, I used to order boneless cheese sticks and would just throw the word "boneless" in front of any appetizer with 100% corniness. The purpose of this isn't to make a good joke. It's not a good joke. The purpose is to make my dining companions catch some cringe splash damage and want to crawl into a hole and die out of embarrassment for my being horribly corny.
But there is a real, deeper purpose that I've discovered entirely by accident. People, especially young people, are so self-conscious and worried about saying or doing something embarrassing that it taints a lot of social gatherings. They go to a restaurant and are afraid to speak up even when their order is blatantly wrong. They'll tip well even when the food took an hour to arrive and the server has disappeared into the corn stalks behind a baseball field. It takes 2 hours of hanging out together before some friends finally stop nitpicking themselves, uncomfortable in their own bodies and brains, feeling perpetually judged, and begin to relax. These are the kinds of people who go to sleep every night replaying cringey moments from high school. Their last thought of the day is when the Burger King girl said, "Enjoy your meal!" and they said, "Thanks, you too."
It takes 2 hours and/or a lot of booze before they're comfortable enough to take conversational risks and truly reveal themselves. But if I come right out of the gate with a really dumb joke, then we can cut to the chase. There's less danger because someone in the group already shot themselves in the foot, right off the bat. They pulled a pin on the cringe grenade and then jumped on it.
You cringe at my dumb joke and then we're over the hump. Someone has already done something pretty stupid, so go ahead and order the hubcap of nachos and a massive chocolate shake because nobody is going to judge you poorly while they're all judging me.
In terms of price negotiations (haggling), there is a psychological concept called "anchoring". You throw out the first number and all subsequent numbers are compared to that number. This is the same idea. We've already set the humor standard pretty low at "boneless cheese sticks", so you can say the dumbest shit you want and, as long as it's not worse than my cheesy joke, it won't matter.
This is why, when you were a teenager and your dad took you and some friends out, your dad made corny jokes. He knew they were corny jokes. You and your friends un
... keep reading on reddit ➡And I remember he used to be stationed in exotic places all over the world. Once he came back home with a very exotic looking bird. I asked him what kind of a bird it was and he told me it’s a rare almost extinct species called a Foux (pronounced Foo). This foux was the apple of his eye and he would take care of the bird as if it was his own child. Sometime during this period the Foux began developing a real bad case of constipation and my father was really worried about it. He tried all kinds of medicines to make the Foux pass it’s bowels, but nothing was working. One day, during this period, I woke up to a huge argument taking place between my parents. My mom was accusing him of cheating on her during one of his tours, she had found some pictures of him and another woman and he was denying it vehemently. I realized then that my father had been quite the philanderer and this wasn’t the first time he had been caught. My mom was trying to get him to just admit to his indiscretion.
“Why don’t you just admit it Harry”, she said;
but he stuck to his denial,
“You think I could ever do something like this Sarah”, he said.
Right then amidst all this ruckus, the Foux began to take a dump, in the middle of the living room.
My mom looked at the bird, then looked back at my dad and with a sense of resignation she just said “Well if the Foux shits...”
So the water doesn't hit you sqaure in the face.
"That shit is getting old," I told him.
PS: Do I get any extra credit if this is a real story?
Maybe now she'll stop complaining that she's out of sham poo.
Because he is full of shit.
She responded "you shouldn't say that"
I responded "what he just lies all day."
Real convo
[Scene: my wife is changing our 9-month-old daughter's diaper.]
Wife: "Ever since she started eating solid foods, her diapers have gotten awful."
Me: "Yeah. Shit just got real."
They’re real shit holes
Shits just got real.
Some of them were pretty strange: only he could understand them and explaining the 'pun' to somebody else would take like half an hour. Anyway-
He said, "So I'll go first?"
I said sure.
I think he took "pun-a-thon" a bit too literally - he took out a marker and drew a point, and then he kept drawing this straight line (he's good at drawing straight lines) while taking how many ever steps back. I for one was concerned, because first off I didn't know how long I'd have to stick around for this, and second of all, I didn't know if I could clean the mess he'd inevitably leave behind.
He kept drawing this line! We stepped out of my living room, then my apartment which was on ground-level, and he kept drawing it. He drew his line all the way through the corridor, up until the entrance to the building, and when I kept asking him if he's done yet, he didn't say a word. I had to keep subtly reassuring security and everyone who was staring at my friend hunched over like that robot from Wall-E.
He stepped out of the building and kept on drawing his line. At this point I was trying to guess what the hell is the outcome. I kept screaming punchlines at him like "is this where you draw the line?", "are you going to punch me after this so this is a punchline?" and shit like that. There were people following us and two were taking videos and it was really fucking uncomfortable.
Right after he was outside the building and the premises, he started to draw this stunning drawing of the building right on the pavement. It was almost magical, as if he had been commissioned to make an ad for my place but for a million bucks. At this point the people who were following us didn't even get pissed off because they were so engrossed in his drawing. I was surprised the marker kept going on.
After about 20 minutes - he was a real quick draw (no pun intended) - he stood up and a crowd of two dozen clapped and cheered for him.
I told him, "Dude that looks fucking amazing, but I thought we were in a pun-a-thon. Why such a long set-up?"
He replied, "Yeah it was pretty drawn out."
(for more drawn-out jokes like this, visit r/feghoot!)
I thought "shit just got real".
I mean... just look at those:
- Why has Gwen Stacy been on the web lately?
to spite her man. -River
- Why do you carry a Laptop in your back pocket?
Because rapping like a computer must be in my genes. - Rap God
- Why did Eminem blow?
All he did was throw f-bombs - Rap God
- Why did Eminem buy the rap game a maxi pad?
Because it's having a rough time period. - Rap God
- Why did Eminem look so shocked when he watched a church gathering take place?
He was witnessing a mass occur. - Rap God
- How could Eminem poop Jerusalem?
Because his shit is real. - Caterpillar
- Why is Eminem so ill-behaved?
He's got a couple of mansions, but still no mannors. - Lucky You
And these are just a select few.
Shit just got real.
I'm afraid our baby is going to be a real piece of shit.
i💩x i💩 = -💩⬛️
Shit just got real!
I apologize for this wall of text, I didn't know where I should cut out parts because they're all relevant to the story. Sorry again.
Hey TFR people! So for background, I work at a kiosk in a mall where I repair cracked phones and do other mind numbing work that I can now probably do in my sleep. I've been doing this job for a little over two years and can fix an iPhone, for example, in about 15 minutes. I apologize for the wall of text. Anyway, this story happened last night.
So, a family of three walk up (mother, father and daughter) but only the father spoke to me and this is where conversation starts. Note: When I was handed this girls phone she had a case with this image on it and was already about to laugh. Customer will be C and I of course will be Me.
C: How much does it cost to fix my daughters phone and can it be fixed?
Me: Oh it's very repairable, after tax and labor, it comes to $xxx.xx.
C: Do it
Fuck, he's one of these guys...
Me: Alright then, I just need a name and signature on this disclaimer we have.
At this point, I've taken their phone and am prepping to work on it.
C: Do I have to use my real name?
PAUSE Now, over the 2+ years I've worked here, I have never heard this question. So I was kind of taken by surprise by it. For a minute, I thought he was one of those paranoid people. PLAY
Me: Um.. Well I guess you don't have to. It's preferred since we can look you up in our system faster later.
C: Oh ok.
I turn back around and start to use my tools on the phone when customer guy throws me another curve ball question.
C: Can my daughter still play the piano when this is done?
I manage to turn and see him smirking a little and go back to his serious poker face so I pick up that he's joking.
Me: Well I would hope so. Slight laughter
C: Oh ok great! She's never even touched one before so it's good to hear her skill won't change in the slightest.
I'm on the verge of outright laughing at this point. I manage to hold it back and finish my repair. I snap her grumpy cat case back on, hand her phone back when she mentions the home button isn't working.
Oh that's an easy fix
Me: Ah, don't worry. Give me one second and I'll have that fixed.
C: One. Try it now "Insert girls name"
Me: Haha well I haven't done what I need to yet.
I pull out a giant clear bag half full of spare parts.
**
... keep reading on reddit ➡Me: Shit just got real (we were throwing a ball of paper back and forth, and I he hit me in the face with it) Boss: You want real? I'll show you real! (Boss walks to grab something, returns with a fishing reel) Boss: This is reel!
For as long as I can remember, my dad would go into the bathroom and drop a real stinky shit, then wait outside the bathroom until my mom wanders by at which time he would say something along the lines of "Goddamn Carol! Light a match in there next time! What crawled up your ass and died?!". My mom always would look mortified and defend herself as if she actually did it. Even after countless years of seeing him pull the same routine over and over again it's still hilarious.
Taking a shit. Daughter and dog come storming through the door and want to hang out in the bathroom. Mom asks what's going on. "It's a real shit show in here!"
I've heard my Pop tell this story so many times, I feel as though it's my duty to share it with this wonderful subreddit.
So, Pops is an air traffic controller. And a few years back, there was an initiative to boost workplace morale and get people to work together as a team.
Needless to say, the whole campaign was the butt of lots of jokes around the sector. Not that teamwork is a bad thing, of course. Just easy fodder for jokes, particularly in a group of middle-aged, dad-joke-loving men.
So one time, Pops is shooting the shit with another controller, and they're giving each other a hard time about one thing or another. And their supervisor walks up; real squirrelly guy who didn't cut it as an actually controller so they made him a supervisor (the FAA is silly that way). And he hears my Pops and the other guy razzing each other, and sticks his head in the sector and says, "Gentlemen, there's no 'I' in 'team'."
And Pops responds, "Yeah, but there's a 'U' in 'stupid'!"
Every time he tells that story, he just loses it. Cracks himself up. Even though I'm sure I've heard him tell it two dozen times.
Mike Rowe on meeting Robin Williams the first time:
The first was in 2006 - June or maybe July. I walked into The Roastery down on Chestnut, ordered a coffee, and sat down to read the paper. I soon discovered I was in one of those chairs with one leg shorter than the rest, and resolved to remedy the problem by jamming a folded-up coaster under the offending limb. I bent down, got the thing positioned properly, and managed to smack my head on the edge of the table on the way back up. Hard. The impact was noisy, and sent coffee slushing all over The Chronicle, which in turn lead to an “Ahh...shit!,” a little louder than I intended. A second later, a voice said, “No, I believe that’s coffee. Shit’s the stuff I see you crawling through every time I turn on the TV.”
