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I got pwned on the subway yesterday.

I jumped on a fairly crowded N/R train at 34th Street headed towards Un. Sq. I sit down, and directly across from me is my ex from 7 years ago. She was (and apparently still is) a cancer -- both literally and astrologically speaking.

Here's what transpired:

sleazie stares at ex's face in disbelief as if he had just seen Banquo's ghost

ex looks up and sees creepy azn guy looking at her.

ex: Do I know you? still hasn't shaken her dutch accent even after all those acting classes

sleazie: remains silent. for a second really wondered if she didnt recognize me

ex: DO YOU KNOW ME OR SOMETHING?

sleazie: still nothing

ex: Oh right. You're the fucking asshole that talked shit about, came into my work and wouldn't leave me alone. You're a dick. flips me the bird

all of the above was witnessed and heared throughout an otherwise silent subway car. However, her accusations were completely false, yet I still had nothing to say in retort. If anything, she was the psycho, that wouldnt leave me alone, and didnt leave my apt for 3-4 days at a time. I was in complete shock, and nearly had a heart attack as this was the first time that I had seen her in 7 years, after a pretty stormy/passionate 4 month relationship. I jumped off the train at the next stop without saying a word. Ughhhhhhh.

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This happened to a friend of mine, he would regale us with this story every once and a while:

Running to the bathroom with a ridiculous urgency he reached the stall. He was nauseated but not exactly enough to barf (or so he thought) so he tried to pull down his pants but it was too late his shit started shooting out even before he sat. As he did he found out that some of the initial shooting missed and hit the seat, ricocheting into the wall and everywhere else. The shock and stink from the whole thing immediately made him start to gag and he ended up throwing up right between his legs and onto his pants. He ended up having to call for help, a hose and a new set of clothing.

+rep for the story. edit: i would if i could.

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Dude, when I was your age everyone I knew was diagnosed with depression by a physician, these guys don't know shit. Some of them really were depressed though but most were just going through a rough patch or just not some cheery idiots. All you learn in med school is a couple of guidelines and then slightly more during your internships, the end result is 99% of doctors couldn't recognize a mental illness if it bit them on the ass. See a qualified psychiatrist or even better, just get some prozacs and sell them to me when we meet again.

This is true, all one needs to do is to go to a clinic and put on a sad face, sit down with the doctor and say 'I think I'm depressed' and rattle off several stereotypical symptoms, and they will dispense open-ended prescriptions like candy. I'm not sure if they've wised up with this since the mid-90's when I did it, but most likely not. You can usually hit up LPN's at busy clinics for about anything that ails you and you can get a little prescription medley of goodies. God bless America.

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Dude, when I was your age everyone I knew was diagnosed with depression by a physician, these guys don't know shit. Some of them really were depressed though but most were just going through a rough patch or just not some cheery idiots.

This is so true. I think our current generation has had it so good and been afforded so many conveniences that when they hit a bump in the road they don't know how to cope with it emotionally. I used to think I had depression, even took meds, but medication only masks the true problem. What I realized is that I needed a swift kick in the balls by life and a dose of disappointment, hardship, and reality.

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This is so true. I think our current generation has had it so good and been afforded so many conveniences that when they hit a bump in the road they don't know how to cope with it emotionally. I used to think I had depression, even took meds, but medication only masks the true problem. What I realized is that I needed a swift kick in the balls by life and a dose of disappointment, hardship, and reality.

Most medical studies I've read, like Whitehall II, associate high household income with better mental health. Although, the definition of "wealth" was a bit far-fetched: the article believed it was synonymous with optimism. This research is a little outdated tho.

I was scrolling pubmed and one particular find peaked my curiosity. Luthar and Latendresse examined the psychological risks associated with adolescents nurtured in an affluent environment. In 2005, they concluded that a drive for isolation and alienation from parental figures was a gateway to substance abuse.

I think more comparative studies need to be done; also, I believe income extremes are equally susceptible to the disease. Especially children in these socioeconomic classes, since they seem to be so neglected. I agree with L and L's conclusion: "Family wealth does not automatically confer either wisdom in parenting or equanimity of spirit; whereas children rendered atypical by virtue of their parents' wealth are undoubtedly privileged in many respects, there is also, clearly, the potential for some nontrivial threats to their psychological well-being."

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Fat girls (only with cute faces). What's your take on them? Yes/no? Go for it, or just drunken make out and play with dem titties if they look soft? Need to know possibly by tomorrow night. THX

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eleria on tFS could be one of my top 5 favourite humans of all time, and second favourite WAYWT poster next to still. she's on some serious alba steez...

That's the black or mulato chick from Sweden wearing leotards or the socal asian often wearing thigh high boots? No matter which one it is I'd hit it so hard she'd walk like a cowboy for a week.

Depression: I'm glad some people agree, I'm not trying to steer anyone who really needs it away from medical help but far too many people fall into the trap of self-victimization.

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Oh and I'm back from the opera (Tannhäuser by Wagner; probably the only opera entirely dedicated to pussy), I was sitting near some relatively well-known thespians and they spent all the time between acts bitching about collegues in the meanest way possible. I love that shit.

Just cheked, Eleria is the asian one and imminently bangable.

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Fat girls (only with cute faces). What's your take on them? Yes/no? Go for it, or just drunken make out and play with dem titties if they look soft? Need to know possibly by tomorrow night. THX

personally... hell no. fatties dont even turn me on... if they arent good enough to stay in decent shape, they arent good enough to touch deez nuts.

but for normal dudes the equation is:

havent been laid in > 3 weeks = hog hunting.....

i did it once, never again. sex with a fat girl = medicore.

sorry for the rant.superdrunk

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Sleeze, should've kicked her in the box...

Is kicking a girl in the cunt for getting spicy with you a cultural thing where you are? If so, I'd like to know when I can immigrate...

Oh, and Sleazie is weenie. We will never forget.

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Oh and I'm back from the opera (Tannhäuser by Wagner; probably the only opera entirely dedicated to pussy), I was sitting near some relatively well-known thespians and they spent all the time between acts bitching about collegues in the meanest way possible. I love that shit.

Just cheked, Eleria is the asian one and imminently bangable.

eleria is nothing in comparison to holiday

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I got pwned on the subway yesterday.

I jumped on a fairly crowded N/R train at 34th Street headed towards Un. Sq. I sit down, and directly across from me is my ex from 7 years ago. She was (and apparently still is) a cancer -- both literally and astrologically speaking.

Here's what transpired:

sleazie stares at ex's face in disbelief as if he had just seen Banquo's ghost

ex looks up and sees creepy azn guy looking at her.

ex: Do I know you? still hasn't shaken her dutch accent even after all those acting classes

sleazie: remains silent. for a second really wondered if she didnt recognize me

ex: DO YOU KNOW ME OR SOMETHING?

sleazie: still nothing

ex: Oh right. You're the fucking asshole that talked shit about, came into my work and wouldn't leave me alone. You're a dick. flips me the bird

all of the above was witnessed and heared throughout an otherwise silent subway car. However, her accusations were completely false, yet I still had nothing to say in retort. If anything, she was the psycho, that wouldnt leave me alone, and didnt leave my apt for 3-4 days at a time. I was in complete shock, and nearly had a heart attack as this was the first time that I had seen her in 7 years, after a pretty stormy/passionate 4 month relationship. I jumped off the train at the next stop without saying a word. Ughhhhhhh.

this is really a tough situation because you can't just call her a smelly cunt when you are nowhere near your stop and engage in a screaming match in public.

While getting off at the next stop you shoulda said something along the lines of, "bitch, your pussy smells like my hockey gloves and I ended it with you because your paraneium (the space between her pussy and asshole -> the coffee table, if you will) was hairer than colin farrell's eyebrows".

no sense in letting a stupid broad tell you what to do

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this is really a tough situation because you can't just call her a smelly cunt when you are nowhere near your stop and engage in a screaming match in public.

While getting off at the next stop you shoulda said something along the lines of, "bitch, your pussy smells like my hockey gloves and I ended it with you because your paraneium (the space between her pussy and asshole -> the coffee table, if you will) was hairer than colin farrell's eyebrows".

no sense in letting a stupid broad tell you what to do

ajhhahahjhasjhhahahaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

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Fuck perineum, that bitch is a straight up slab o' taint.

i once got into an 'argument' with my best friends girlfriend about the term perineum. I was being hella sarcastic the entire time but i was trying to see if i could win the argument that the medical term was 'taint.' then she pulls out a cosmo magazine and says look it says perineum, to which i retort that 'such a well written and fully accredited medical journal such as cosmo is more than enough proof.' even weeks later i was still receiving emails about how taint is slang and perineum was the proper term

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I hate it when you get drunk and wake up the next morning not remembering the last part of the night, and when people tell you what you did you curse yourself for losing your glamour in front of the guy you like.

what the hell, I had a fucking blast!!!!!!!

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