Welcome to Charming or Tedious.

Heather: Like I wasn’t already irritated enough. I just got a new customer and her freaking name is Kemper. KEMPER.

What’s with these people naming their kids the most original special names in the world?

I’m naming my kids John and Jenny.

Me:  I’m naming my kids Stinkpot and Madison.

Heather: Ok you have inspired me.

Johannesburg  for the girl and Radcliff for the boy.

Instead of giving birth to them I will save myself the trouble and head over to CVS after work and purchase two douche bags. Adoption.

quietbrava:

charmingortedious:

quietbrava:

charmingortedious:

quietbrava:

Sterner, this feels like sex to me. You?

 Wait…my bangs just fell in my eyes.  Emos we are.

We are not emos. This must be like playing Bridge then. Damn, I gotta have more sex so I know what it is.

Well isn’t this a load of merf bukkake (TM Sterner/Eyermann).  You get me wet then leave without even a carrot stick nearby!  Don’t let this happen to you, Randi.  Now we know he’s a tease. 

I’m just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him.

 ”sometimes I just get so scared, babe”

I’m up OUT off the interwebz!  <3 tits or get the fuck out

quietbrava:

charmingortedious:

quietbrava:

Sterner, this feels like sex to me. You?

 Wait…my bangs just fell in my eyes.  Emos we are.

We are not emos. This must be like playing Bridge then. Damn, I gotta have more sex so I know what it is.

Well isn’t this a load of merf bukkake (TM Sterner/Eyermann).  You get me wet then leave without even a carrot stick nearby!  Don’t let this happen to you, Randi.  Now we know he’s a tease. 

quietbrava:

Sterner, this feels like sex to me. You?

 Wait…my bangs just fell in my eyes.  Emos we are.

quietbrava:

Opportunity favors those in motion.

theyounggentleman:

Dear Young Gentleman,

What do you do when your date throws up in the car?

Realize that a second date is not in order! I am going to address this question as if this is one of your first dates. Things are different if you are on the way to getting married or if this happens well into a serious relationship. Also I am assuming she is drunk, if she is sick then ignore this!

During the situation:

• Do not lose your temper, she’s drunk and can’t comprehend what’s happening. But yeah, we all know what you’re thinking
  
• Try to get her out of the car as quickly as possible or at least out of the window
• Tell her it’s going to be OK and that she just needs to calm down…even though she is disgusting right now and less than appealing
  
• Wait till she finishes before driving again and take her home
• If she lives with a roommate, tell the roomate what happened and make sure someone watches after her, if she is alone set her up with a bucket…depending on how drunk she is and how close you are, should tell you if you need to stay for a few hours (personally I have no compassion for habitual drunks so I am a little biased)

After the situation:

• Assess the car’s damage. Will it have to be reupholstered? Professionally cleaned? How much will this cost?
• See if she offers to help with the repairs. Or if she apologizes with a fruit basket or something else.
• If it is ridiculously expensive to fix the car, invoice that drunk whore and tell her how much it costs. If she screws it up badly enough, she should take care of it.
• Be sure to really think about that night. Was it worth the vomit? Most likely it was not. She does not have to be at the top of your call back list for dates next week.

Long story short. Don’t ask her out again and give her the bill!

Vomit is NASTY!

Disclaimer: The only way that this could be OK is when she had a mistake that actually was a mistake, like she ate bad shrimp. Being drunk is never an excuse. A lady should know how to hold her alcohol and stop when she has had enough. Unless you see serious prospect in this relationship, you don’t need to bother with her again.

-The Young Gentleman

Keep ‘em coming!

Invoice the DRUNK WHORE? Realllllly gentlemanly, guy.  Whore.  Nice.

Yes, I’m SURE it’s not bad enough to get drunk and sick in someone’s car you barely know.  That makes this imaginary woman such a HORRIBLE PERSON. 

I’ve certainly never thrown up in someone’s car but Christ, if that makes you a WHORE than my dictionary has been deceiving me all along.

bringtheruckuss:

1. the mogul: you can’t sing, read music, play an instrument, or scratch a record and yet you tell everyone that you’re a “producer”. owning a copy of protools and a mac does not make you a producer. you also fancy yourself a designer because you drew some dollar signs and skulls on a t-shirt in MS paint and convinced your uncle that works at the airbrush hut at the mall to make a few dozen. also, you wear a giant fake diamond encrusted watch you won at the arcade. 60% chance of bluetooth.

2. the hippie: you own at least 5 hula hoops and approximately 27 kavu visors. you’ll also complain about climate change and big corporations being evil while driving down the interstate in a range rover with enough nitrous crackers to reopen the hole in the ozone layer. you’re also a weed snob and will complain and talk shit about people that puff mids until your “headies” connection dries up, then suddenly mid grade isn’t so bad.you’re also probably in a terrible jam band. 80% chance of choco sandals.

3. the princess: you’re more than likely mind blowingly hot but unfortunately you have absolutely nothing else going for you. you’re shallow, vain, and inconsiderate. your parents will pay for anything and everything you want in hopes that they will eventually see some sort of gratitude, but that will never happen will it? nope, you deserve everything you have and more. 90% chance of secret xanax addiction.

4. punks: you just want to rebel against all that is wrong in this world. things like curfews and socially acceptable hair styles. everything you own was purchased at hot topic by your mother. ANARCHY IN THE CULDESAC! 100% chance of messenger bag covered in pins.

5. atheists: this one might confuse you as believers are a way easier target, but guess what? atheist’s are fucking annoying too. you think you’ve somehow been wronged by the entire religious world for one reason or another and you will go out of your way to dickishly voice your opinion as to why any person of faith is an idiot and why you are a genius. you can’t wait for someone to say something about god so you can tell them why they’re wasting their life. 50% chance of being correct.

Don’t fucking reblog and strip credit, sucker!  I see you didn’t get that memo on the TPS reports.

There were days when the seasalt would crystallize itself to the rocks on the shore, and teardrops stung in your eyes when the wind hit them.  I watched the tide ebb away, and noticed the flecks of green in the sand, shimmering like pieces of broken glass embedded in skin.  They were scales; when the sea bled salt, the mermaids would dance, writhing on the sand and laughing at the sailors who had perished from their songs.  I removed my knife from my belt and crashed into the waves.

I felt a tickle on my foot while the sea thrashed against my body, tensed with the cold.  I reached downwards, violently, and a pale skinned, pearly face thrust upwards, struggling against the strength of my arm.  I dragged her to shore.

Her tail curled as she snarled at me, on the beach that day, and I held my knife to her coral hair.  “Grant me a wish”, I said, and the fear in her eyes said it all.  A mermaid must grant you a wish if she’s captured, or you may cut off her hair.  A mermaid with no hair has been tamed.

“I shall,” she spat, and I kissed her then, a hard kiss that crushed the seasalt between our lips and made her gasp.  I pulled away and whispered my wish to her.

While I cannot tell this story to my coral-haired children, I have often told it to the wind, as it cries, and the sea bleeds salt.