My Grandad died 12 years ago and because of various family dynamics, he didn’t leave his sons (my dad and uncle) any money and it all got passed to my sister and I.

I didn’t expect my sister and I to get anything if I am honest. We weren’t close with my dad’s family and although we knew there was a bit of money, we expected it to be given to charity or to his sister.

When his solicitors called it me it had been over a year since his death so it was totally out of the blue. I don’t know why it was such a long time until they contacted me but it was a really nice surprise. He gifted me a SUBSTANTIAL amount of money, an autobiography he had hand written, his and my Nanas birth and marriage certificates and a piece of land.

A few days later my sister called me over the moon and celebrating the amount of money my Grandad left her. When she told me the amount I was stunned. It was a fraction of what I was given. None of us knew my Grandad had so much money but he had three plots of land (family inheritance he got) in London that he seemingly sold to development companies.

My sister has two kids and a huge mortgage. She paid that mortgage off and still had some money to pay off debts. She has a couple of thousand left in savings for her children.

I have no kids. I live a modest life. I visited my Grandad in his last few years of life and I know my sister didn’t. I paid off my tiny mortgage and I have an obscene amount of money sitting in stocks and saving accounts.

I’m not telling anyone. I quit my job and volunteer now but everyone thinks I am working a paying job. I’m never going to tell my family.

Sometimes I feel sneaky and greedy but I don’t have lavish holidays, a fancy car, a big house or expensive clothes. I just sit happily knowing I can do what I want for the rest of my life and I will never worry about money again. Maybe I’m a bad person?

I was taking a dose of Afrin, where you have to snort this liquid into your nose....

...and something in my back cracked.

Yep. I busted myself by sniffing Afrin.

I can barely move and it hurts to freakin breathe.

DaHell?

Today, while sobbing my eyes out, I finally told my parent that they are the worst version of themselves when drunk. They aren’t a fun, party, have a good time drunk, they’re a fucking asshole who goes out their way to hurt people as much as possible And that as long as I’m around, they will not be bringing another bottle of alcohol into the house as they cannot handle alcohol entirely.

It truly is mind boggling to me, because they go from being a “nice” enough person, to being someone who purposely abuses others people at the drop of a dime as soon as they take a sip of alcohol.

All it took was one sip and my parents children’s lives were ruined more and more.

I don’t think “whores” are real. Like outside of no definition being agreed upon (are they sex workers, people getting trains run on them for fun weekly? Women that just have sex with their boyfriends regularly? Women with multiple ex’s?) it’s literally a slur for male behavior when women do it.

Like yes girl, don’t listen to patriarchal double standards….you have a libido… go be safe and have fun.

Men who can fuck a different woman every night…. Do. Attractive Men with sex drives that can hook up a few times a week….. do. The average man fucks every opportunity they are given.

But as soon as women’s like “yeah sex is actually pretty cool, I agree, I enjoy having it” it’s a problem lol.

I’m a man with a casual sex life. Women who know what they want sexually and are looking for the exact same thing I’m looking for….are my equals. They are literally just doing what I’m trying to do but with greater success lol.

You literally have to think women aren’t people to think it’s not dumb af to judge “whores” while not being part of some religious order that values virginity or something. (Mormons, or Muslims this isn’t about you)

I (28m) havent been to the club in about a year, my friend that I went to the club with moved to another city and my boyfriend of eight months is not a club type of person. But randomly one evening, my friend Brielle (27 female) hit me up and we got to talking and I shared that I had just broken up with my bf and she had also just left her boyfriend of four years. We comforted each other and after a while Brielle said we had to hang out, she told me of a club by the beach where she knows the owners and she can get us in for free, and I love the beach so I agreed.

We met at the train station, walked the beach, drank martinis, rode electric scooters up and down, just had a great time together. Then when the sun was setting we went to the club and dance for hours, at one point I realized I had gotten separated from Brielle, I was dancing with a guy that had a charming smile and great dances moves on the second floor of the club and Brielle was nowhere to be seen. So I told the guy I would be back and went off looking for her, I searched both floors and didnt see her but caught sight of her outside in the parking lot with two guys and another girl, all of them smoking and laughing, so I deemed that she was fine and returned to my dance partner.

Another hour later, I was done dancing and Marvin (the dancing muscle boy) invited me to his place nearby. I told him I'd have to tell Brielle I was leaving first, so I went to find her again and when I couldnt spot her anywhere I called her phone. She told me she was in front of the club, sitting on a bench by the beach with the new friends she had met, and that it was fine if I left. I double checked if she was sure and she said it was totally cool, so I told her I would check in with her later and she said alright.

I go to Marvins beachside apartment that probably cost a fortune, we have fun together and he knocks out almost immediately after telling me I can spend the night if I want to. Then I step out onto his balcony to puff on my vape and scroll on instragram, when instragram got boring I just leaned on the rail and look out at the ocean for a while until my phone starts ringing. Its Brielles younger brother, Justin, asking where Brielle is, I tell him that shes with some friends by the beach and he told me alright. In the background I can hear Brielles mother screeching, "She aint got no business being out this late with strangers! She could be getting r-ped right now!" The mother goes on and on about how dangerous it is, then snatches the phone and demands that I get Brielle home and tells me Im going to hell if I dont go find her immediately. I just said "Ohhh-kay" then hung up.

I text Brielle that her family wants to talk to her and she just says "Alright". I go back to enjoying the sights and the cool air, but a few minutes later my phone is blowing up again, this time its a new number. I answer and its Brielles mom screeching that Brielle wont answer her calls and that shes putting herself in danger and that Im a good for nothing friend for leaving her on the beach instead of making sure she gets home, etc etc. I end up hanging up on her because she starts barking louder and louder and she didnt want to hear anything I said anyway. Brielles mom gave me a tiny headache but I rummaged through Marvins cabinets til I found some whisky and poured myself a shot and I felt better and went to bed with him.

The next day, as Im leaving Marvins place, I call Brielle on my way to the train station and she tells me shes alright and that shes home now. So...Brielles mom was freaking out over nothing. Everything is alright. Shes a grown woman who can make her own decisions and she doesnt need to be babysat by me or anyone else, obviously. We joked about how Brielles mom exploded and then I hung up when the train came.

I dont know if this is just a thing with women, but Ive never heard Brielles mom start screaming and cursing and blowing up peoples phones when her sons stay out late. Shes only done it with Brielle and Brielle is the oldest child. Im so sorry if women have to deal with overbearing parents like this, I never thought how prevalent it might be but if all girls have a mother or father like Brielle's then I dont know how they deal with it.

Tasted like, well, nothing.

I drop in at this neighbourhood place that has a kind of informal jigsaw library, and an in-house puzzle table. people bring in a constant supply of their old jigsaw puzzles, which anyone can borrow to take home and do.

alongside that, there's another table where an actual puzzle is always underway.

i love the casual collaboration of it. nobody "decides" what the next one should be. nobody lays down rules like Thou Shalt Do The Border Before Doing The Rest. there's no quota, no gatekeeping, no minimal level of prior experience needed. you just wander up and work on it if you feel like it, unless or until you don't. we have these nice little tacit conspiracies, like leaving the last few dozen pieces for another puzzler to do so they can have the satisfaction. or letting the completed one sit for a while so your other puzzle peeps can see the result of our work. someone always conscientiously does the annoying work of breaking a finished one back down and putting it back in the box, and then they or someone else chooses another one and it starts over again.

any time more than one person is on it at the same time, they figure out how to collaborate even when they have nothing in common or different styles. they'll just shift over to make room for the newcomer, and start helping each other out with whatever "thing" each one is focusing on.

I just like this concrete evidence of the fact people are perfectly capable of getting along, I guess. just in the wild like that.

I'm trying to be better but it is very challenging. How am I supposed to be open to alternative perspectives when I'm so sure of something? Ought I be a little uncertain of everything? People are always saying "confidence is key", not a lot of people telling me I should remain unsure of myself in order to hone my viewpoints to more productive ones.

When I was about 14, my family went to one of those walk-through ice show displays. It was super busy and as we were walking I caught eyes with this cute girl. She was just a bit ahead of me with her family.

Through the whole exhibit we would lock eyes and smile, and after every turn, we’d find eachother in the crowd again make eyes. We never met or spoke and I was so disappointed when I arrived at the exit and she was gone.

Anyway, I think about it often. What a hilarious thing to have as a core memory decades later.

I wish there was a better infodump subreddit that wasn't super dry and boring xD infodump at me about your favorite game, favorite animal, entire childhood, stuffed animal collection, your cool new smart device, what you did last weekend, your weird family dynamics, your friend group at school, how you do your laundry, how you got started crocheting, idk lol. Tell me something you don't get to talk about enough. :) I might neurodivergently share a story on the same topic back at you.

When I was a teenager I had this incredibly stupid idea that I wanted to 💩 on everyone from the highest possible point in the city. Don’t ask me why. Teenage hormones, stupidity, whatever, I can’t even explain it. Somehow that turned into me booking restaurants in the tallest buildings of every city I travel to, just so I can take a shit there. Somewhere between my immaturity, terrible sense of humor and complete lack of taste (the food in these places usually sucks anyway), it became a tradition. And the weirdest part is that after all these years I’ve actually grown weirdly attached to it. It’s kind of cute to me now. I don’t know how to explain it.

Everybody, and I mean EVERYBODY, on the internet calls caving or spelunking "cave diving".

PSA people, cave diving and caving are not the same. Cave diving involves literal diving. Hence the name cave diving. You use scuba gear and dive into a cave that is submerged underwater.

You only wanted me at night

You only wanted me at night.

I would do for now. None of the others responded, or they had other plans. You couldn't bear to sleep alone, so I guess I would do.

You tried to disguise it as a friendship. You'd put on music or a YouTube video. My favorite was the bears!

You'd talk to me about work, the union, renovations, hunting, NASCAR, and, on rare occasions, politics. That one always ended up frustrating you. My views seemed crazy to you. Acceptance. What a terrifying idea!

At least you were polite about it when you'd reached your limit. I heard you yell once, even if you won't admit it. I heard you yell once.

It was scary at first, but then trauma took over and whispered, Now this turns you on so much.

You told me you only wanted me in bed. I always enjoyed going three or four rounds with you. There was so much feeling in the way you touched me. Deny it all you want, but it was there. That thing between us.

You liked my attention. For a while, you even craved it.

You told me you loved me first. I enjoyed hearing those words so much, but I couldn't return them. I truly didn't believe you meant them.

I misunderstood what you meant when you said, "I have to be a better person."

You were never a bad person to me.

But I should have realized then. You were never going to choose a life with me by your side. Whatever love was there only seemed to exist when you wanted me to pleasure you.

I became a doormat, believing that one day you'd go back to loving me again.

That was never going to happen.

The last time you pulled away from me, I saw it in your eyes. The lack of interest. The way you quickly turned your gaze from mine and walked away.

I died a little in that moment.

I knew then that I needed to stay away.

But then night came.

My body craved you so badly. As soon as I lay down alone in my bed, I wanted to reach out and touch you. To feel you there beside me. To have one more night where I could pretend I was something more.

But there was no response.

I have to get used to that.

My feelings were never your concern. As long as I could pleasure you, we were good.

Until I couldn't anymore.

You stopped finding pleasure in me. There was someone else who had your attention. She had kind of always been there. But when you didn't have access to her, I would do.

Not anymore.

There is no pleasure left in being someone's second choice. No comfort in knowing I was good enough when no one else was available.

One last hug, with a boob grab as you exited my car.

Fitting, really.

My tits were always your favorite. They were the first part of me you said hello to every time we were together.

Only at night.

Always at night.

Whole of my life I was waiting for somebody to understand me a certain way, to love me a certain way and to care for me a certain way.

Like the picture is clear in my mind what is the perfect person i imagine for myself. But recently, I have realised looking for such a relationship outside oneself is the biggest mistake a person could do.

Like why should I wait for somebody else to treat me a certain way.

Why shouldn't i build that relation with myself. When I exactly know how should I be behaved, why don't I start putting in efforts for my own self.

This is the best advice that anybody could ever had given to me.

Don't wait for the perfect person to heal you or change your life. Start changing it the moment a though comes. Don't wait for others just do it for yourself.

Like I feel there could be many persons like me existing in this world. Those who are waiting to be treated right when the right person to treat them in the best possible is they themselves.

And these are those persons who have been doing willingly for others whole of their life. But are late to realise this relationship with themselves.

If i was r!oting i’d be saccaging something that is a symbol of Fr4nce’s oligarchy like a museum or Stock exchange. Anything that has significance for the Fr3nch government that would make them shake in their boots.

bins* lmao

My post itself wasn't anything bad, at all. There's this music fella I follow, and probably 90% of my social media activity is just trying to boost his signal. I just saw him in concert last week, two shows in a row in Los Angeles, and I put up a post and a story of one of the songs he did.

But I've always been a lurker on TikTok, never made a post, only the occasional comment. Almost everything about that platform I find skeevy and untrustworthy. It feels dishonest to me, full of fake accounts and ulterior motives. And yet - I posted.

I don't know what came over me. And what is perhaps worse, I feel absolutely disinclined to delete my post. For whatever reason, I've stepped into the cesspool, and here I stand...

Thank you for listening. I had to tell someone and was too ashamed to tell anyone I know, in person

Sorry for any spelling mistakes in advance.

When I tried to login into googleclassroom using my account I got thrown into captha that required to write some code using one of two ways: by reading and copying or by hearing and mimicking. I could't read the words (some f up latin letters) so I clicked the speaker option and suddenly like a hundreds of voices started to blast in my head. Not screaming, just... talking. I got so scared I almsot shit my pants. My heart was beating so fast I though I'll have a heart attack. I had to manually close the site and then it stopped. WTFF?

I tried to open it again, but nothing happens. It's just normal login using google account. The only notable thing I remember when trying for the first time was that I was thinking about my gmail. Like think about it, your official mail adress. Usually it's your Real Name and like for exemple numbers. This exact combination is one of a kind. Your exact type. No one else has it.

I typed my password, got a weird captha. It was in a small rectangle with orange-red letters on whiteish background. The fount was like a reversed cursive put through a twirl. The text changed one time when I was trying to read it, so I guessed it must be time based (i'm dyslexic so that's like an impossible chellange for me) and that's why I tried the listening one. I literally thought nothing of it when I clicked on the sound. And then this shit? I wish I had the wits to record it before I panic quit.

I have an online meeting in a couple of minutes and I'm still scared shitless.

What's yor advice? Should I contact a doctor, a psychiatrist, or maybe... a priest?

The fact most of em re the same yet we chose to watch and read em somehow well knowing all are the same ending. Hoping get something more of em and still satisfied with that .It's like watching the same story in different time lines . I think that's it why I like​ it . I hope ya all find true love someday ❤️‍🩹.(No hate)

Everyone is focused on the lines about women’s shorts but the most important line was said at the end. “That’s it you’re either gay or your Hitler, isn’t that where we’re at as a country” and he’s 100% correct. The left sees everyone who supports trump as Nazis and the trump supporters think anyone that doesn’t support trump is a gay terrorist sympathizer.

We’ve lost all nuance and detail in this country and everyone now paints with broad strokes. It seems we as a nation have decided that how one votes is the only thing of importance about a person.

I understand why people feel the way they do with everything this administration has done thus far this term but I’d be willing to bet most people didn’t think this would be how it went. Yes they’re responsible for causing it by voting them into power but I can’t be mad at the ones that recognize they made a mistake or realize they were lied to and repent and attempt to make things right in the future. Those who continue to support it after seeing the truth are just rotten imo.

The reality is propaganda works and we the people have been heavily heavily propagandized since birth. It’s hard to escape your upbringing. Even the Bible recognizes this when it says “Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it.” In proverbs 22:6. Many of these people were raised in environments that fostered racism and bigotry so for them to escape that way of thinking means relearning a lot of things. It’s not as simple as saying ok I’m not going to be racist. That’s how they start the process but racism is so ingrained in their thinking it’s very difficult to get it out. When you grow up with something being normal you never question it.

I have a cousin in Mississippi well a few but most aren’t racist even the ones who use the N word. They don’t use it out of malice it’s what Black people have always been called when they were growing up. I was super uncomfortable about it and to his credit when I talked to him about it he first was shocked because he didn’t know that was offensive. He said “that’s just what you call em” like that’s how ingrained this stuff is in some places. To be clear that doesn’t justify or excuse it but it explains why some people can say the n word and then say they’re not racist. Now days most people could t make that case but this was in the early 90’s before the internet took off. He had spent his whole life in his little town and spring break at Daytona beach. I grew up in a diverse SF Bay Area so we had a lot of instances where I was (often vocally) uncomfortable with the casual racism.

Im addicted to talking shit to people on Fb & IG. I have been banned from Reddit 3 times and IG 4 times. I only do it when I’m in a mood. If I’m feeling good I have no desire to do it. I just want to share memes and cool post with friends and family but I keep ending up fighting with strangers and getting banned.

You wake-up okay, your doing okay and and you think is something bad or good gonna happen today, so you over think the whole day if you did anything wrong yesterday or the day back or anything particular containing bad or good, so you just observe your surrounding being careful and the whole day nothing really fucking happened you just wasted 1 normal day.

It has been a dream ive secretly had but never dared to hope being asked. The honor of being a godfather. My best friend and his girl together asked me. It is truly humbling… ive never felt so deeply happy