OK, but you'll understand why no-one here believes a word of it now.
Русский военный корабль, иди на хуй!
you can take it or leave it, it makes no difference to me dildorp.
No worries, I'll leave it, as I imagine most people will.
Русский военный корабль, иди на хуй!
dilbert the only person in this entire forum who seemingly has any emotional investment in the topic is you. i very much doubt KJ, pochsy et al see it as any more than a passing diversion. your posts have the tang of a hurt friend or a spurned lover. it's a bit weird.
Seems like you put an awful lot of effort into creating this persona, and a lot of psychotic ranting defending it.
Anyway, best of luck, hope your reality matches your fantasy one day.
Anyway, best of luck, hope your reality matches your fantasy one day.
Русский военный корабль, иди на хуй!
So I'm inspired to tell a story now that we're getting everyone's life arch figured out. I hadn't told it here when it happened because TSI and Winston_Churchill actually knew me at the school (I even took a class with TSI), and it was best I kept the two worlds apart for this one.
I was in second year, living in a dorm because it was a good price to be located in the dead center of campus and not have to rush to my classes, and decided I was going to get the night started early and invite a couple people over to celebrate. I think it was around 4pm on a Thursday because most people didn't have classes on Fridays. I lived 3 floors up from the porter's office in this building (pictures are nice):
So we're in my room and one guy lights a fucking joint right there, windows closed, door open, and starts huffing away. So I'm at first in damage control mode and slam the door shut, jam a towel under, and tell him to blow clouds out the now open window. I settle down, join in, and within about 5min the fat guy on porter duty is just BANGING down my door. Like he's trying to physically place himself in my room with all his might. Hollering shit like "I can smell what you're doing" and "I'm going to have to call the dean of students" (building next door, for the college, not the whole uni). Dude was livid.
The threat is there in my now inebriated mind, though. I can't let fat porter end my situation like this. I'm not out for blood or anything, and I know I can't talk sense into this guy, so I wait. I signal to the jebronis to stay quiet, butt the joint, and pretend we don't exist. Retard who lit the joint even turns off the lights. Nice. No way we're home, the lights are now off!
My neighbour, Jordan, now smells the dank and is out in the hall laughing his ass of exclaiming that the whole house stinks and that I'm fucked. So we wait. A long time. Like 20min. We hear them going down the stairwell, presumably to get the dean of students, and we spring into action.
We immediately run down the hall, light the joint in the bathroom, and huff that shit like we're Tommy Chong 10min out of prison.
It worked. When they called me to the porter's office I claimed I smelt the weed too, and that we couldn't tell where it was coming from. We argued it must have been someone down the hall. I even made a show of looking for the ashed joint in the bathroom, which, no shit I found because I placed it on the window sill. The dean of students never did get involved--she was away, and fat porter called me in before it was brought to her. He was satisfied that it was a misunderstanding, and that I was scared to open the door because he was hollering so much shit.
Anyways, Your thoughts, insights, and musings on this matter intrigue me.
I was in second year, living in a dorm because it was a good price to be located in the dead center of campus and not have to rush to my classes, and decided I was going to get the night started early and invite a couple people over to celebrate. I think it was around 4pm on a Thursday because most people didn't have classes on Fridays. I lived 3 floors up from the porter's office in this building (pictures are nice):
So we're in my room and one guy lights a fucking joint right there, windows closed, door open, and starts huffing away. So I'm at first in damage control mode and slam the door shut, jam a towel under, and tell him to blow clouds out the now open window. I settle down, join in, and within about 5min the fat guy on porter duty is just BANGING down my door. Like he's trying to physically place himself in my room with all his might. Hollering shit like "I can smell what you're doing" and "I'm going to have to call the dean of students" (building next door, for the college, not the whole uni). Dude was livid.
The threat is there in my now inebriated mind, though. I can't let fat porter end my situation like this. I'm not out for blood or anything, and I know I can't talk sense into this guy, so I wait. I signal to the jebronis to stay quiet, butt the joint, and pretend we don't exist. Retard who lit the joint even turns off the lights. Nice. No way we're home, the lights are now off!
My neighbour, Jordan, now smells the dank and is out in the hall laughing his ass of exclaiming that the whole house stinks and that I'm fucked. So we wait. A long time. Like 20min. We hear them going down the stairwell, presumably to get the dean of students, and we spring into action.
We immediately run down the hall, light the joint in the bathroom, and huff that shit like we're Tommy Chong 10min out of prison.
It worked. When they called me to the porter's office I claimed I smelt the weed too, and that we couldn't tell where it was coming from. We argued it must have been someone down the hall. I even made a show of looking for the ashed joint in the bathroom, which, no shit I found because I placed it on the window sill. The dean of students never did get involved--she was away, and fat porter called me in before it was brought to her. He was satisfied that it was a misunderstanding, and that I was scared to open the door because he was hollering so much shit.
Anyways, Your thoughts, insights, and musings on this matter intrigue me.
Last edited by Pochsy (2020-04-15 17:22:36)
The shape of an eye in front of the ocean, digging for stones and throwing them against its window pane. Take it down dreamer, take it down deep. - Other Families
Personally, I feel vindicated. I saw through all your shit and called you out on it years ago.uziq wrote:
dilbert the only person in this entire forum who seemingly has any emotional investment in the topic is you. i very much doubt KJ, pochsy et al see it as any more than a passing diversion. your posts have the tang of a hurt friend or a spurned lover. it's a bit weird.
"Ah, you miserable creatures! You who think that you are so great! You who judge humanity to be so small! You who wish to reform everything! Why don't you reform yourselves? That task would be sufficient enough."
-Frederick Bastiat
-Frederick Bastiat
Why did this story need to be told?Pochsy wrote:
So I'm inspired to tell a story now that we're getting everyone's life arch figured out. I hadn't told it here when it happened because TSI and Winston_Churchill actually knew me at the school (I even took a class with TSI), and it was best I kept the two worlds apart for this one.
I was in second year, living in a dorm because it was a good price to be located in the dead center of campus and not have to rush to my classes, and decided I was going to get the night started early and invite a couple people over to celebrate. I think it was around 4pm on a Thursday because most people didn't have classes on Fridays. I lived 3 floors up from the porter's office in this building (pictures are nice):
So we're in my room and one guy lights a fucking joint right there, windows closed, door open, and starts huffing away. So I'm at first in damage control mode and slam the door shut, jam a towel under, and tell him to blow clouds out the now open window. I settle down, join in, and within about 5min the fat guy on porter duty is just BANGING down my door. Like he's trying to physically place himself in my room with all his might. Hollering shit like "I can smell what you're doing" and "I'm going to have to call the dean of students" (building next door, for the college, not the whole uni). Dude was livid.
The threat is there in my now inebriated mind, though. I can't let fat porter end my situation like this. I'm not out for blood or anything, and I know I can't talk sense into this guy, so I wait. I signal to the jebronis to stay quiet, butt the joint, and pretend we don't exist. Retard who lit the joint even turns off the lights. Nice. No way we're home, the lights are now off!
My neighbour, Jordan, now smells the dank and is out in the hall laughing his ass of exclaiming that the whole house stinks and that I'm fucked. So we wait. A long time. Like 20min. We hear them going down the stairwell, presumably to get the dean of students, and we spring into action.
We immediately run down the hall, light the joint in the bathroom, and huff that shit like we're Tommy Chong 10min out of prison.
It worked. When they called me to the porter's office I claimed I smelt the weed too, and that we couldn't tell where it was coming from. We argued it must have been someone down the hall. I even made a show of looking for the ashed joint in the bathroom, which, no shit I found because I placed it on the window sill. The dean of students never did get involved--she was away, and fat porter called me in before it was brought to her. He was satisfied that it was a misunderstanding, and that I was scared to open the door because he was hollering so much shit.
Anyways, Your thoughts, insights, and musings on this matter intrigue me.
"Ah, you miserable creatures! You who think that you are so great! You who judge humanity to be so small! You who wish to reform everything! Why don't you reform yourselves? That task would be sufficient enough."
-Frederick Bastiat
-Frederick Bastiat
Jay wrote:
Why did this story need to be told?Pochsy wrote:
So I'm inspired to tell a story now that we're getting everyone's life arch figured out. I hadn't told it here when it happened because TSI and Winston_Churchill actually knew me at the school (I even took a class with TSI), and it was best I kept the two worlds apart for this one.
I was in second year, living in a dorm because it was a good price to be located in the dead center of campus and not have to rush to my classes, and decided I was going to get the night started early and invite a couple people over to celebrate. I think it was around 4pm on a Thursday because most people didn't have classes on Fridays. I lived 3 floors up from the porter's office in this building (pictures are nice):
So we're in my room and one guy lights a fucking joint right there, windows closed, door open, and starts huffing away. So I'm at first in damage control mode and slam the door shut, jam a towel under, and tell him to blow clouds out the now open window. I settle down, join in, and within about 5min the fat guy on porter duty is just BANGING down my door. Like he's trying to physically place himself in my room with all his might. Hollering shit like "I can smell what you're doing" and "I'm going to have to call the dean of students" (building next door, for the college, not the whole uni). Dude was livid.
The threat is there in my now inebriated mind, though. I can't let fat porter end my situation like this. I'm not out for blood or anything, and I know I can't talk sense into this guy, so I wait. I signal to the jebronis to stay quiet, butt the joint, and pretend we don't exist. Retard who lit the joint even turns off the lights. Nice. No way we're home, the lights are now off!
My neighbour, Jordan, now smells the dank and is out in the hall laughing his ass of exclaiming that the whole house stinks and that I'm fucked. So we wait. A long time. Like 20min. We hear them going down the stairwell, presumably to get the dean of students, and we spring into action.
We immediately run down the hall, light the joint in the bathroom, and huff that shit like we're Tommy Chong 10min out of prison.
It worked. When they called me to the porter's office I claimed I smelt the weed too, and that we couldn't tell where it was coming from. We argued it must have been someone down the hall. I even made a show of looking for the ashed joint in the bathroom, which, no shit I found because I placed it on the window sill. The dean of students never did get involved--she was away, and fat porter called me in before it was brought to her. He was satisfied that it was a misunderstanding, and that I was scared to open the door because he was hollering so much shit.
Anyways, Your thoughts, insights, and musings on this matter intrigue me.
What I really mean is that it's about as consequential a story as Uzi's character development. True or not true, it's a way to spend your time.Pochsy wrote:
So I'm inspired to tell a story now that we're getting everyone's life arch figured out.
Last edited by Pochsy (2020-04-15 17:31:06)
The shape of an eye in front of the ocean, digging for stones and throwing them against its window pane. Take it down dreamer, take it down deep. - Other Families
are ... are you breaking up with me??Seems like you put an awful lot of effort into creating this persona, and a lot of psychotic ranting defending it.
Anyway, best of luck, hope your reality matches your fantasy one day.
there hasn't been any more 'effort' at making a persona than any other user on a forum. personas are kind of the game. there have been periods of flagrant trolling, there have been periods of relative candour and sharing. the fact that you're upset a teenager in the midst of a clusterfuck was an unreliable narrator isn't really my problem. adjust expectations?
yes, for a period i was feeling very sorry for myself and seemed to have catastrophised my situation. making out i was on the brink of physical and mental collapse. that stuff is just self-indulgent drug-bender cliches. there have been real tests in my life since then and i'm not going to pretend that little episode was a severe one. if i had been admitted to hospital i wouldn't exactly be ashamed to admit it. that whole period, which you seem to want to pin me to as a debacle and a tragedy, is an object of lots of jokes and reminiscing in my circles now.
we can get past this dilbert, i am sure. with the right counselling.
Last edited by uziq (2020-04-15 17:27:30)
OK, best of luck.
Русский военный корабль, иди на хуй!
yeah, okay jay. let's be clear here: i'm ironing out what was basically a youthful indiscretion and a teenage drama and putting it into its right perspective. people have these stories. university is full of minor follies and travails. people at that age make mistakes, get arrested, make fools of themselves. we grow up and move on.Jay wrote:
Personally, I feel vindicated. I saw through all your shit and called you out on it years ago.uziq wrote:
dilbert the only person in this entire forum who seemingly has any emotional investment in the topic is you. i very much doubt KJ, pochsy et al see it as any more than a passing diversion. your posts have the tang of a hurt friend or a spurned lover. it's a bit weird.
your little pet theories about me are irrelevant. so i fabricated and distorted things when i was 19. incredible. frankly i'm more surprised that an adult like dilbert couldn't figure out how to interact with teenagers, and expects me to treat something that happened at 19 with the exaggerated gravity i gave it at the time, when i was clueless and had no perspective.
hahaha.Pochsy wrote:
So I'm inspired to tell a story now that we're getting everyone's life arch figured out. I hadn't told it here when it happened because TSI and Winston_Churchill actually knew me at the school (I even took a class with TSI), and it was best I kept the two worlds apart for this one.
I was in second year, living in a dorm because it was a good price to be located in the dead center of campus and not have to rush to my classes, and decided I was going to get the night started early and invite a couple people over to celebrate. I think it was around 4pm on a Thursday because most people didn't have classes on Fridays. I lived 3 floors up from the porter's office in this building (pictures are nice):
So we're in my room and one guy lights a fucking joint right there, windows closed, door open, and starts huffing away. So I'm at first in damage control mode and slam the door shut, jam a towel under, and tell him to blow clouds out the now open window. I settle down, join in, and within about 5min the fat guy on porter duty is just BANGING down my door. Like he's trying to physically place himself in my room with all his might. Hollering shit like "I can smell what you're doing" and "I'm going to have to call the dean of students" (building next door, for the college, not the whole uni). Dude was livid.
The threat is there in my now inebriated mind, though. I can't let fat porter end my situation like this. I'm not out for blood or anything, and I know I can't talk sense into this guy, so I wait. I signal to the jebronis to stay quiet, butt the joint, and pretend we don't exist. Retard who lit the joint even turns off the lights. Nice. No way we're home, the lights are now off!
My neighbour, Jordan, now smells the dank and is out in the hall laughing his ass of exclaiming that the whole house stinks and that I'm fucked. So we wait. A long time. Like 20min. We hear them going down the stairwell, presumably to get the dean of students, and we spring into action.
We immediately run down the hall, light the joint in the bathroom, and huff that shit like we're Tommy Chong 10min out of prison.
It worked. When they called me to the porter's office I claimed I smelt the weed too, and that we couldn't tell where it was coming from. We argued it must have been someone down the hall. I even made a show of looking for the ashed joint in the bathroom, which, no shit I found because I placed it on the window sill. The dean of students never did get involved--she was away, and fat porter called me in before it was brought to her. He was satisfied that it was a misunderstanding, and that I was scared to open the door because he was hollering so much shit.
Anyways, Your thoughts, insights, and musings on this matter intrigue me.
i get the impression that every college dorm in the states is like this.
You almost got caught smoking a joint in a dorm room at Uni?Pochsy wrote:
So I'm inspired to tell a story now that we're getting everyone's life arch figured out. I hadn't told it here when it happened because TSI and Winston_Churchill actually knew me at the school (I even took a class with TSI), and it was best I kept the two worlds apart for this one.
I was in second year, living in a dorm because it was a good price to be located in the dead center of campus and not have to rush to my classes, and decided I was going to get the night started early and invite a couple people over to celebrate. I think it was around 4pm on a Thursday because most people didn't have classes on Fridays. I lived 3 floors up from the porter's office in this building (pictures are nice):
So we're in my room and one guy lights a fucking joint right there, windows closed, door open, and starts huffing away. So I'm at first in damage control mode and slam the door shut, jam a towel under, and tell him to blow clouds out the now open window. I settle down, join in, and within about 5min the fat guy on porter duty is just BANGING down my door. Like he's trying to physically place himself in my room with all his might. Hollering shit like "I can smell what you're doing" and "I'm going to have to call the dean of students" (building next door, for the college, not the whole uni). Dude was livid.
The threat is there in my now inebriated mind, though. I can't let fat porter end my situation like this. I'm not out for blood or anything, and I know I can't talk sense into this guy, so I wait. I signal to the jebronis to stay quiet, butt the joint, and pretend we don't exist. Retard who lit the joint even turns off the lights. Nice. No way we're home, the lights are now off!
My neighbour, Jordan, now smells the dank and is out in the hall laughing his ass of exclaiming that the whole house stinks and that I'm fucked. So we wait. A long time. Like 20min. We hear them going down the stairwell, presumably to get the dean of students, and we spring into action.
We immediately run down the hall, light the joint in the bathroom, and huff that shit like we're Tommy Chong 10min out of prison.
It worked. When they called me to the porter's office I claimed I smelt the weed too, and that we couldn't tell where it was coming from. We argued it must have been someone down the hall. I even made a show of looking for the ashed joint in the bathroom, which, no shit I found because I placed it on the window sill. The dean of students never did get involved--she was away, and fat porter called me in before it was brought to her. He was satisfied that it was a misunderstanding, and that I was scared to open the door because he was hollering so much shit.
Anyways, Your thoughts, insights, and musings on this matter intrigue me.
Hey guys, look at this bad ass over here! Bartender, lemme get a boilermaker for this guy.
Were you sweating profusely? Here's a towel.
You seem to spend a lot of time at 2-3am on this stuff though.uziq wrote:
yeah, okay jay. let's be clear here: i'm ironing out what was basically a youthful indiscretion and a teenage drama and putting it into its right perspective. people have these stories. university is full of minor follies and travails. people at that age make mistakes, get arrested, make fools of themselves. we grow up and move on.Jay wrote:
Personally, I feel vindicated. I saw through all your shit and called you out on it years ago.uziq wrote:
dilbert the only person in this entire forum who seemingly has any emotional investment in the topic is you. i very much doubt KJ, pochsy et al see it as any more than a passing diversion. your posts have the tang of a hurt friend or a spurned lover. it's a bit weird.
your little pet theories about me are irrelevant. so i fabricated and distorted things when i was 19. incredible. frankly i'm more surprised that an adult like dilbert couldn't figure out how to interact with teenagers, and expects me to treat something that happened at 19 with the exaggerated gravity i gave it at the time, when i was clueless and had no perspective.
Русский военный корабль, иди на хуй!
i don't care what anyone says here, or does here. When i shut down my browser, all existence of bf2s shuts down with it.uziq wrote:
dilbert the only person in this entire forum who seemingly has any emotional investment in the topic is you. i very much doubt KJ, pochsy et al see it as any more than a passing diversion. your posts have the tang of a hurt friend or a spurned lover. it's a bit weird.
There is no spoon!
This is the closest thing to asses that have been posted in this thread in recent days.Dilbert_X wrote:
Yup, totally without consequences for anyone.uziq wrote:
nice little middle-class british people generating a demand for drugs
You go on believing your partying is harmless.
since working remotely i have basically always had a tab of bf2s open, yep, that's true. as do you. as does anyone. do we really want to start examining why we post here at all hours of the day in 2020?Dilbert_X wrote:
You seem to spend a lot of time at 2-3am on this stuff though.uziq wrote:
yeah, okay jay. let's be clear here: i'm ironing out what was basically a youthful indiscretion and a teenage drama and putting it into its right perspective. people have these stories. university is full of minor follies and travails. people at that age make mistakes, get arrested, make fools of themselves. we grow up and move on.Jay wrote:
Personally, I feel vindicated. I saw through all your shit and called you out on it years ago.
your little pet theories about me are irrelevant. so i fabricated and distorted things when i was 19. incredible. frankly i'm more surprised that an adult like dilbert couldn't figure out how to interact with teenagers, and expects me to treat something that happened at 19 with the exaggerated gravity i gave it at the time, when i was clueless and had no perspective.
this is a form of shooting the shit for me, it's enjoyable and has always had its tonic effects. do you think i'm trying to 'manage my persona' to the 4 people still active on this forum? i've made some lasting friendships on this forum that have since migrated 'IRL'. the rest is just the cut-and-thrust of enjoying an argument. it passes the time, dilbert.
Yes, I think we're going to have to revive the true purpose of this thread.DesertFox- wrote:
This is the closest thing to asses that have been posted in this thread in recent days.
Русский военный корабль, иди на хуй!
That's about it, yep. At the time I saw my future in the balance, so it was a whole lotta fear. There was sweat. I had to fight off Jordan at every house meeting who would always bring it up and look at me side-eyed.KEN-JENNINGS wrote:
You almost got caught smoking a joint in a dorm room at Uni?
Hey guys, look at this bad ass over here! Bartender, lemme get a boilermaker for this guy.
Were you sweating profusely? Here's a towel.
This was traumatizing stuff, Ken. Show me more than a towel!
The shape of an eye in front of the ocean, digging for stones and throwing them against its window pane. Take it down dreamer, take it down deep. - Other Families
it was a Del Tha Funky Homosapien (monkeys he will make of men) line
always had you down as a deltron 3030 kind of guy.
This one time, in band camp...KEN-JENNINGS wrote:
You almost got caught smoking a joint in a dorm room at Uni?Pochsy wrote:
So I'm inspired to tell a story now that we're getting everyone's life arch figured out. I hadn't told it here when it happened because TSI and Winston_Churchill actually knew me at the school (I even took a class with TSI), and it was best I kept the two worlds apart for this one.
I was in second year, living in a dorm because it was a good price to be located in the dead center of campus and not have to rush to my classes, and decided I was going to get the night started early and invite a couple people over to celebrate. I think it was around 4pm on a Thursday because most people didn't have classes on Fridays. I lived 3 floors up from the porter's office in this building (pictures are nice):
So we're in my room and one guy lights a fucking joint right there, windows closed, door open, and starts huffing away. So I'm at first in damage control mode and slam the door shut, jam a towel under, and tell him to blow clouds out the now open window. I settle down, join in, and within about 5min the fat guy on porter duty is just BANGING down my door. Like he's trying to physically place himself in my room with all his might. Hollering shit like "I can smell what you're doing" and "I'm going to have to call the dean of students" (building next door, for the college, not the whole uni). Dude was livid.
The threat is there in my now inebriated mind, though. I can't let fat porter end my situation like this. I'm not out for blood or anything, and I know I can't talk sense into this guy, so I wait. I signal to the jebronis to stay quiet, butt the joint, and pretend we don't exist. Retard who lit the joint even turns off the lights. Nice. No way we're home, the lights are now off!
My neighbour, Jordan, now smells the dank and is out in the hall laughing his ass of exclaiming that the whole house stinks and that I'm fucked. So we wait. A long time. Like 20min. We hear them going down the stairwell, presumably to get the dean of students, and we spring into action.
We immediately run down the hall, light the joint in the bathroom, and huff that shit like we're Tommy Chong 10min out of prison.
It worked. When they called me to the porter's office I claimed I smelt the weed too, and that we couldn't tell where it was coming from. We argued it must have been someone down the hall. I even made a show of looking for the ashed joint in the bathroom, which, no shit I found because I placed it on the window sill. The dean of students never did get involved--she was away, and fat porter called me in before it was brought to her. He was satisfied that it was a misunderstanding, and that I was scared to open the door because he was hollering so much shit.
Anyways, Your thoughts, insights, and musings on this matter intrigue me.
Hey guys, look at this bad ass over here! Bartender, lemme get a boilermaker for this guy.
Were you sweating profusely? Here's a towel.
"Ah, you miserable creatures! You who think that you are so great! You who judge humanity to be so small! You who wish to reform everything! Why don't you reform yourselves? That task would be sufficient enough."
-Frederick Bastiat
-Frederick Bastiat
deltron 3030 is the 3rd best rap album of all time and I will gladly argue about that until my face turns blue.uziq wrote:
always had you down as a deltron 3030 kind of guy.
Nas Illmatic/Wu Tang 36 Chambers
Deltron 3030
Everything else.
Tell us a tale oh bard of yore.Jay wrote:
This one time, in band camp...
Promise I'll read it all the way through.
EDIT - bonus points if it relates to asses.
Last edited by Pochsy (2020-04-15 17:56:02)
The shape of an eye in front of the ocean, digging for stones and throwing them against its window pane. Take it down dreamer, take it down deep. - Other Families