I Wish You All A Splendiferously Divine Duck In A Top Hat Thursday.

I spent a lot of time handcuffed and in a cage in high school, for a charity bit the grocery store I worked at would do

the bit was that I was "put in jail for having too big a heart" and customers could donate to my bail to get me out (and the money would go to a children's hospital or something)

now. I was very clearly a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a large cage. and I would honestly tell people that I had been in there for hours. and people would say, that's terrible! that's awful! and I would show them my wrists red from the tight handcuffs, and say but I'm sooooooo close to making bail.

and then they would dump some cash in the basket, I'd thank them, and they'd walk away.

and every so often, one of the managers would come by and collect some of the cash, so I could keep being soooooo close to making bail.

I was very good with this bit. Parents with small kids would pay $5-10 if I told their children I had been placed in jail for not cleaning my room/doing my homework, etc. For people in their 20s, I'd threaten that I was very bad at playing the harmonica, but I WOULD play it and we'd all suffer unless they paid me. and for the most amount of money, older men in suits would almost always pay $20s if I avoided eye contact and stammered a lot.

eventually, the managers started to feel bad because I was in the cage so fucking long and often, that I'd need someone to brace me when I got out because I'd have no feeling in my legs. wobbling like a newborn giraffe.

but I would also rake in at LEAST $100 an hour in charity.

so they were like, hey champ. can we, uh, give you a pillow to sit on. in the cage. would you like a pillow so you're not just sitting on a cold metal slab. can we give you a pillow.

and I had to explain to them that if they gave me a pillow, people would think I was more comfortable, so they wouldn't feel as bad, so I'd bring in less money.

the compromise was that they'd bring me a nice coffee every couple hours, which I would have to try to block with my body from the customers.

all this money went to charity. that's what the money was for. it's what was on the sign. but how much they were willing to pay was very contingent on how comfortable I looked, never mind the fact that I was still a teenaged employee handcuffed inside a cage.

and out of the dozens of shifts I did this on, not ONCE did ANYONE say, hey kid I'm going to go talk to your manager because what the fuck is going on here. they would just drop money in the basket, and I'd thank them and sip from my secret drink.

I actually had people get MAD at me that I told them I was far away from bail, they donated like $15, and then 20 minutes I got let out because my shift ended.

again. the money was for charity. it was on the sign that was very clearly placed on the upper half of my cage.

so yeah. even when people think they mean well. people can be really, really fucking stupid.

Going from being an introverted lurker on reddit to trying to post my own stuff here is so wild. I keep typing out a post, deleting it, then retyping because I think it's not good enough but then I look at other posts and why am I so worried?

It's like I'm at a fancy Italian restaurant and keep glancing around the room to see which hand people use to pick up the forks. But then I realize that everyone is shoveling spaghetti into their mouths using their bare hands and I'm like ah okay so I'm clearly overthinking this

I remember someone saying "mad scientists in fiction aren't scientists because there's never a control group"

I think if you've created an elixir that turns people into goat men you have sort have gone past the need for a control group. The control group is not going to placebo themselves into goat men. You can probably not run the control group, and safely assume that none of them would have turned into goat men. That said, having a control group for that would make the mad scientist seem extra crazy and be really really funny, especially if he was carefully testing them for goat like features from the dyed water they drank instead of the elixir

Coolth was once a word, in medieval times. Then we forgot about it for some reason.

Hold on a sec…….

Is your dad a time traveler of some sorts???

Reminder to myself (and anyone else who needs it)

It also takes energy when your body is trying to keep cool, and the heat always feels worse when your blood sugar is low.

Eat.

Maybe make some sandwiches in the coolth* of the day, and put them in the fridge. So they'll be ready (and cold!) later, when you are both hungry and hot.

Just a thought.

*One of my Dad's words. He figured if "warmth" was a word, "coolth" should be, too.`

HowdoIstarttho…..

once you start saying “yippee!” you will never stop

Love answering ”why are you transgender?” with “God told me to” because it’s funny and it confuses everyone except for me. And God. Because he told me to.

Hey uhhh can you get me a drink im thirsty

(Slings the damp rag I’ve been using to wipe down the bar over my shoulder, dries hands on lil bartender apron) sure, what’ll you be having

Guys is he gonna become the Grinch but for Easter? Will he don a robo-bunny suit and steal all the eggs, then shoot Jesus just for good measure?

Reblog to make him lose another 200 billion, like to make him lose 1 billion

*releases pack of dads into home depot* go……be free