One of the biggest power moves I have here in the midwest when someone is being racist, sexist, homophobic is that I tell them that I’ll pray for them so that god can grace them with empathy, or that “I feel sorry the devil has made his home in your heart” cause you have not felt joy until you’ve flipped the script on a suburban house mom or an old racist white man.  The joy of watching their face in shock and confusion while they’re called out in Christian Standards the same way they try to cover for their homophobia is amazing.  100% suggest it, at the very least it gets them to shut the fuck up.

Good Christian Hacks, an open-ended series

Works wonders in the South, too.

And if they start to stutter and quote some cherry-picked Bible verse at you, come back at them with “yes, even the Devil can quote scripture, but that doesn’t mean he understands it. I’ll pray for God to grant you understanding in the fullness of His word.”

no but let me add the context here!

these are two pretty well known german tv personalities

palina, the woman on the left here, gets a lot of really gross comments on her body, especially her boobs. stuff like (paraphrased cause they’re in german) “woah, i wanna cum all over those fat tits” or “she’s such a fucking hot slut i wanna fuck those tits” or “with her, half of the guys would cum before reaching her hole” and who can forget “palina, you are and always will be a juicy piece of meat i would drink out of”. and the media tends to really sexualize her too.

so she and klaas (dude on the right), with the help of their team and and lovely ass-model decided to just drop this picture as an instagram, with the caption “finally got that nice necklace with my zodiac”

the media was quick to pick it up as “ah she says its about the necklace but she wants to show her boobs!”, and of course there were more comments like “i jacked off to this like seven times in an hour” and “those tits should milk my cock dry”

like a week later, they dropped the making-off video to that video and the rest is history

What, like it’s hard?

i want to raise hp lovecraft from the dead for a couple of hours and show him The Shape of Water because i think it would make him really mad

that universal feeling of wanting to perform necromancy to raise hp lovecraft from his grave just to torture him with shit we know he’d hate is a big fucking mood

:3c

so this kid he used to bully me in middle school before i got tough, well this is kind of a funny story. so i sugar from time to time but my latest sugar mommys house is so extra and i didnt bring my glasses but im going through the house because she told me to make myself at home and i see a family photo and im just like he looks really familiar but i cant make out shit. and so she and i start talking and shes like yeah i have a son your age actually and im just like wait… and she was like you’ll meet him later when we go to the car show, and im just like fuckin wait.. and we get to the car show and its me and her we’re holding hands being friendly and shes like and heres my son. and i shit u not this is the same dude who used to fucking bully me in middle school and he starts fucking crying because he didnt know his mom was lesbian and i was just like hey its been a while, but im getting fucked by your mom.

New favorite tumblr post of all time.

This post has made me so happy.

A M A Z I N G

So alt-right neo-nazi groups are in meltdown right now; Richard Spencer’s lawyer dumped him,  Andrew Anglin is in hiding, one of their biggest formal organizations collapsed and dissolved, white supremacists are reportedly afraid thanks to the pushback from counter-protesters ready to beat their asses, and honestly 

Also one of the things I SPECIFIED when cursing Spencer was that “All legal matters shall turn on him” and honestly thanks Tyr, you’re a bro (pours one out for the God of Justice)

At Stormfront, a large white-supremacist online forum whose threads were read by some alt-right members, few were donating money. “It’s that time of [the] month again, when the big, scary bills hit,” site creator Don Black wrote recently. His wife, according to site members, has stopped financially supporting the forum, and his son, Derek, has rejected white supremacy. “Our contributions have once again totaled less than $2000, which is not enough to cover our basic server and radio bills, and this month we no longer have enough personal money to make up the difference.”

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAhahahahahahAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

*tears up* Thing of beauty right their.

One got out because HE GOT YELLED AT BY HIS MOM

Some members have given up on the movement entirely. “I got to go back to my normal life,” Connor Perrin, who drove all night from Austin to Charlottesville to protest what he saw as the oppression of white men in the United States, said in an interview late last year. “I’m focusing on working and being normal. . . . My mom is like: ‘Stop being alt-right. You’re going to get yourself in trouble.’ ” He later added, “We lost.”

Direct action! The market has spoken. The invisible hand wants nothing to do with this garbage “““ideology”””

I don’t see the Milo news on here and it’s somewhat adjacent so Milo “Fuckface’ Yiannopoulos has stopped paying his people and is closing his business because he can’t make or raise or borrow or beg any money off of anyone. 

Oops.

Are we going to skim over the fact that OP cast a spell or curse upon the alt right and it worked?

this was inevitable but the online presence still needs to be deliberately broken up by ruthless maneuver counter trolling 

I absolutely LOVE people who pay with pennies!

Seriously. 4 years ago, I’m cashiering at a whacky mart on a register that holds all the smokes and alcohol. It’s 10pm and these two young men (early 20s) come up to the counter. They have three random novelty items (I don’t remember they were), but it was strange and unusual to get odd items this late at night. Maybe it was for some fraternity, I don’t know. It’s a college town so I get weird stuff from frats a lot. I scan the items and tell them their total is $22.xx.

Grinning at each other, they reach into their jackets and slam down two gallon zip-lock bags, full of only pennies. I stare them in the eye, but they didn’t even look back at me. Everyone else in line groan and went to other registers. These two kids knew what they were doing, but they didn’t know what they were in for because I prepared for this; I knew this was going to inevitably happen. I grinned with them, because I was gonna get paid during this. These pranksters are here for recreation. This convo occurs between Me, Ringleader (the other guy was silent and awkward), and a friendly coworker of mine.

Me: Is this $22.xx?

Ringleader: …

Me: Did you count it?

Ringleader: Nope.

Me: Are you going to?

Ringleader: Nope.

Me: Is it at least $22.xx?

Ringleader: Don’t know.

Me: Nice.

Coworker: Hey! You guys can use the self checkout. It can take all of your coins at once.

Me: Oh, don’t worry about it Cowor–

Ringleader: Nope, don’t trust them lady.  (Partner laughs)

Coworker: What? Why!?

Ringleader: Doesn’t count all your change right.

Coworker: I’ve used them before. It really works!

Me: (to Coworker) I got this.

I unpacked the ziplocks and threw all the pennies on the counter. It was a beautiful, massive shitstorm of a mess. And I digged in it. I was Frank in a dumpster in ‘It’s Always Sunny’. The two, still averting my gaze, start chuckling as if they were taking away my dignity. They whisper to each other “Dude oh my God,” “Dude yeah,” “Dude, hilarious.” I counted each penny, one by one. My coworker comes up to me.

Coworker: Guess I’ll help you count this.

Me: Don’t worry about it.

(She looks at me confused. Then she puts on her ‘get down to busy’ look.)

Coworker: I got your back.

Me: Oh…ok.

We worked up a system where we counted ten, put them in a pile, then with ten stacks of ten pennies we separated them, making $1 piles. We made progress slowly but surely. Some customers came to the line, but we advised them to get to another line. Some of them looked at us confused, but when they saw the counter full of pennies they understood. Some decided to wait, but when they realized it wasn’t going to take just a few minutes they took their leave. Another register in the liquor department opened so it wasn’t too bad for other customers. We get to about $12 (about 10min in) until I “knocked” over the piles.

Coworker: Neontonsil!

Me: Oops. Sorry.

(Coworker looks at my grin. I give her a wink and tilt my head, motioning her to leave)

Coworker: You know what, I think I better let you do this.

Me: Ha, alright.

(Coworker leaves. I look at the two guys. They are absolutely stunned at the fallen piles of pennies.)

Me: (To Ringleader) Yeah, I’m going to have to count all of this again.

Ringleader: ….Ok.

I started from zero. I count slower then ever, and made my way back up. The duo is entirely silent. I get to about $7, when suddenly I say:

Me: Drats. I lost count. I better start all over again.

Ringleader: Really?

Me: Oh yeah man.

Ringleader: Why!?

Me: I lost count, sir. I could be in trouble if my register doesn’t have the right amount of cash, and I don’t want to rip you off.

Ringleader: …

It’s about an hour later. My manager walks past, looks at me. I smile at him, and he looks at the counter. He walks away without a word. I eventually count all the change and surprisingly they had only $18!

Me: Hmm, I think that this is $18.

(The duo has been dead silent. They look done for the night.)

Me: I’ll recount it.

I fucking recounted it.

Me: I think this is actually $19.xx.

(Without a word, the Ringleader whips out a $5)

Me: Seriously? You had cash?

Ringleader: Needed to get rid of my change.

Me. No problem. I’ll just recount this again. I want to make perfectly sure that this is $19, since I counted $18 the first time.

Ringleader: Are you kidding me?

(I shake my head no, completely serious)

He takes out a $20 bill straight out of his pocket and throws it at me. My coworker gives the biggest WHAT THE FUCK face. Internally, I die as well, because they were smart enough to have a backup plan. And the fact that he was touching his cash in his pocket the entire time kinda messed with me. I take the cash, do the transaction, give him his change, thanked him and wished him a good night. The two start to put their pennies back in the ziplock bags and I didn’t help them at all. I watched them just as how they watched me. Lots of pennies dropped to the floor, but they didn’t care to pick them up. It looked like their souls were sucked out of them. It was past midnight and I clocked out way past when I was supposed to. A lot of my coworkers gave me a thumbs up or told me good night. Even my manager told me ‘good job,’ the only two words he ever said to me. Went to bed at the dorms after such a great petty penny night and crashed. Strange to say, but I’d love to count pennies again.

TL;DR I recounted 1900 pennies like 5 times. Was it 5 times? I better count again.

Antifa cleaning up the streets

Love how he’s lik “come on then” then realise he done fucked up and is all “no stop there pls” then he ded 👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻👌🏻

this is the best thing i’ve read in a while

Shakespeare Live! From the RSC

Sorry for the length! I had a lot to get off my chest.

BACK STORY: When I was 12, my mom got married to a halfway decent guy. He’s not bad, but he’s not great either, but he made my mom happy and that’s all that I cared about. In fact, I cared so much about her happiness that I was willing to endure 6 years of living under the same roof as his self-obsessed, obnoxious, spoiled daughter, Amy. The entire time we lived together, she would project all of her insecurities onto me in the form of insults. Being young and wildly insecure about myself, these daily insults well and truly cut me to the core and just continued the cycle of crippling insecurity.

When I started “talking to” a boy for the first time, Kyle, she all of a sudden developed an intense infatuation with him and told me I was forbidden from communicating with him from then on. I was insecure but I was not a pushover. When I didn’t listen to her demands, she took it a step further and told Kyle I had ongoing relationships with several other boys (untrue), which he unfortunately believed. I was completely crushed. She then swooped in and took every opportunity to rub it in my face that she “won” him (i.e. inviting him to my birthday parties at home, inviting me out with her only to later reveal I would be thirdwheeling on their date, making him compliment me and then gloating about how she had such a nice boyfriend, etc). This sort of thing happened countless times, not with just boys but with friends and even workplaces! They ended up dating for two years and, although they had a nasty breakup, Kyle and I remained on good terms, which drove her up the wall. She would constantly ask me, “So did you guys hook up behind my back yet?” while claiming to have moved on already.

When we finally graduated high school (we were in the same year), I could not be happier to move out and go to college. While I was finally living the life I wanted without her toxicity, she went to 2 different unaccredited schools, both of which she dropped out of after 1 semester at each. Eventually, she moved back in with our parents in our hometown and fell into her old ways again (assuming she had ever grown out of them). On the eve of her 19th birthday, she posted to FB about how her friends had gifted her a fake ID and raved about their plans to club hop for her birthday.

Even though I lived 500mi away, she still had to find some way to rub it in my face that I would be missing out on all the fun. I was invited to her birthday event page on FB, where she detailed all the extravagant and expensive things she planned for her special day. We’re talking limo rental, VIP rooms at 2 of the biggest clubs in town, and even some photographer guy who would follow them like paparazzi. She made a public post on the event page where she tagged me and said, “It’s going to be amazing! Too bad you’ll miss out! HAHA. You’ll have to wait 2 years before you can experience any of this.”

It had been about a year since I had last seen or spoken to her. By this point, I was at a much happier place with myself, emotionally. It took me a while to shake off the effects of her emotional abuse, but by god, I did it and I wasn’t going to let her drag me back to those lows again. But this post got me to reminisce about all the things that she had done to me in the past and I couldn’t help but feel a boiling rage inside.

Now, unbeknownst to her, Kyle had recently reconnected with me on FB. It only friendly conversation between us, catching up on each other’s lives, until he suggested we meet up and have lunch (he went to another college an hour away). Lunch turned into us having an afternoon-long shit-talking-fest about Amy. He confessed that she was emotionally abusive to him during their relationship and the only time they didn’t fight was when I was in their company (which is why he didn’t mind me thirdwheeling on all those dates, apparently). During this, he also confessed he had feelings for me but couldn’t forgive himself for letting Amy dangle him in front of me, because he knew that I had liked him. This guilt was apparently something he had been carrying for years and finally found the courage to apologize for now.

REVENGE: Here’s where we get petty. I convinced Kyle to alert his brother, who happened to be the marketing director for one of the clubs Amy had reserved a VIP room at, of these upcoming birthday plans. After he did that, I went home and called the limousine rental company and pretended to be a concerned parent and insisted no alcohol be available since several of the girls were underage. They let me know that they were very appreciative of the notice. And then, I did a little digging and found out who the “paparazzi” guy would be and called him to cancel his services for the event. With her birthday coming up in just a couple of days, I sat back and waited to let the chips fall where they may… and it was better than I could have hoped for. When I asked about it a few days afterwards, she was sure to screech every beautiful detail to me over the phone.

Since the limo did not provide them with alcohol, they stopped by a friend’s house to “pre-game” and sneak in their own supply. Once the driver noticed the gaggle of very drunk girls in his limo, he stopped and made them throw away all of the liquor they snuck in. When they got to the first club, Kyle’s brother, who knew Amy as Kyle’s ex, confronted them at the door and told them there was no way in hell they were getting in. This was VERY upsetting to these group of drunk girls and they all proceeded to make a huge drunken scene, going so far as showing him Amy’s fake ID to “prove” they were allowed in…except the name on the ID wasn’t hers. Kyle’s brother, or “Assfucker” as Amy called him, had security forcibly remove them from the premises. As the cherry on top, he contacted his friends at the other clubs in town and warned them of Amy and her underage entourage, successfully banning her from every single dance club/bar in a 20mi radius. She didn’t even get a refund on the deposits for the VIP rooms. She’s lucky she wasn’t arrested, but she still plays victim to “horrible bad luck.”

TL;DR: Evil stepsister torments me in our teen years so I ruin her last teenage birthday by getting her banned from every club in town and making her waste thousands of dollars. Also, I fucked Kyle.

I’m laughing because now that Ted Cruz is running for president, his wife (whose health insurance he was covered under) decided to take a leave of absence to help him campaign, causing them both to lose their health insurance. Now they’re forced to sign up for coverage under the Affordable Care Act or become uninsured.

So since Ted Cruz decided to campaign to repeal Obamacare, he can now only get insurance through Obamacare.

And that, my friends, is a true example of irony.

This is glorious

I love politics

The tale of the Entitled Princess, the Vengeful Wage Slave, and the Fake I.D.

(Longish but worth it in abundance)

So I work at a frozen yogurt store, one of those self-serve places where you make your own and weigh it. It’s an easy job and aside from some occasional bullshit from upper management, it’s also generally pleasant. I also happen to live in a fairly wealthy area, and the vast majority of my customers are very wealthy folks, and while 99% of them are awesome, wonderful people, there are always bad apples.

Slightly rude or short with me is one thing, but once in a while we get a customer in who is well and truly an entitled monster, and on those occasions I wish for nothing more than the power to set people on fire with only my furious gaze. This young lady was one of those people.

The offense: It’s about 6-7pm, and it’s a busy day. I’ve been cutting up fresh fruit for the fridge and now I’m bringing it out for the customers to use. Entitled Princess (hereafter known as EP) and her friend - both would be about 16-17 - are getting their yogurt, and as I’m passing them, EP “accidentally” knocks a chair into me, causing me to fall and spill about 6 containers of mango all over the floor. I take a deep breath and ask the customers to please not walk on it while I grab a cloth and a cup to put the floor-mango into, and EP’s friend immediately begins to help me, getting on the floor and scooping it into a pile. EP leans down, laughs, and tugs friend to her feet announcing loudly “Ewwww Laura, don’t help her! That’s what they pay her for!” as she purposefully stomps all over the fruit on her way to the cash, making an already huge mess about 5x worse. Friend begins to protest, but EP is clearly queen bee and she relents, giving me apologetic eyes as they pay and leave. EP also made sure to run the yogurt all over the place while making hers, so the machines are also really messy and gross now.

The Revenge: So about 5 minutes after they’ve left, the store has gotten quiet. I’m going around doing some busywork, cleaning chairs and tables and doing a quick mop, when all of a sudden I notice a wallet lying beside the scale by the register. As is our policy, I open it up to look for ID (so that when they return I can verify that the wallet does indeed belong to them), and lo and behold, the wallet appears to belong to EP. But then, looking closer, I notice two driver’s licenses. I pull them out, thinking maybe it’s the nice friend’s wallet instead (and in that case, I would have slipped a bunch of dollar off coupons inside), but no, both have pictures of EP. One has a name and birthdate matching her health card (that says she’s 16) and the other has a totally different name and birthdate (that says she’s newly 20. I live in Ontario, Canada where the drinking age is 19). It dawns on me that it’s a fake I.D. and I chuckle to myself before putting the wallet away to return when she comes back, untouched. I’m not the kind of person to risk my job to steal from a forgotten wallet, even if the owner sucks.

But then it happens. About two hours after the wallet was found, EP returns with her spray-tanned, blinding-teeth-knashing, hair-helmeted and polo-shirt wearing dad in tow, both in a snit and clearly expecting the wallet to have mysteriously “disappeared”. Dad marches up while EP stands behind smirking at me, and declares that his precious daughter left her (very expensive, LV in fact!) wallet here and that she ABSOLUTELY must have it back this very moment. Well, this is like Christmas morning for me, because I realise that I get to completely shit all over EP’s day. I pull out the wallet and ask “Is this the wallet you left?” to which she snappily responds that it is, while jumping in front of dad and trying to yank it from my hand. I pull it back, open it up, and say, very calmly and with a poker face: “Can I get the name and birthdate on the I.D.?” Dad rolls his eyes like a dying cow and barks “OH FOR GOD’S SAKE (FIRST NAME) (LAST NAME) AND (ACTUAL BIRTHDAY)!” To which I respond, fake I.D. in hand, “That’s not the information I have here.” right before I swiftly reach over EP’s grasping fingers and hand the I.D. to Dad.

There’s a moment of horrible, fantastic silence while Dad takes in the I.D. in his hand. About 10-15 seconds later I break the tension by pulling out the real license and saying “Ooooh, silly me, here it is! That other one must be old or something!”, giving EP my best fake grin and holding out her wallet for her to take . EP reaches out to take it, but dad leans over and snatches it from me, shooting her a look that could peel paint and snapping “EP WE WILL TALK ABOUT THIS IN THE CAR!”

My boss almost wet herself when I told her the next day.

Petty Revenge: Internet`s best petty revenge stories are here. | cr

When the universe decides to send America a sign