A True Expert In Suxxitude

, , , , , , | Friendly | May 20, 2020

I post different pieces of artwork to various websites. Most of the time, I’m lucky to get five or six likes and maybe a couple of comments. However, one time, I woke up after having posted a sketch before going to bed, and I found that it had over 200 comments on it.

The first couple of comments were typical “Nice” or “Good Job” type of comments. However, one person had given the comment, “this sux”. Two minutes later, he’d then posted the comment, “hello?”, followed a minute after that with “this sux” again. He’d then proceeded to repeat “this sux” every couple of minutes for three straight hours.

This had, apparently, drawn the attention of other commenters, who had ended up splitting between telling me that it didn’t suck and directly mocking him and his stream of “criticism.” My favorite was a couple of people who went back and forth “agreeing” with him, talking about how the “suxxitude” of the piece had reached “terribad proportionisms,” and how it was reminiscent of the great “Suxxirian masters” of the past.

I ended up writing a post, saying, “Thank you for the critique.” Not even ten seconds after I hit the post button, he had replied with what must have been a copy-pasted rant about how he was allowed to have opinions, and how I needed to “suk it up and admti you sux”.

To this day, it is still the funniest “criticism” I’ve ever received.

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Red Paint In A Hospital Ward Is Just Asking For Trouble

, , , , , , | Healthy | May 4, 2020

I was in hospital for a severe illness. Because doctors were unable to identify what was causing it at my age, given I was in my twenties, I was in a ward for many weeks while they did multiple tests. 

Being a fairly active person prior, I didn’t take sitting idle very well. So, after a few days, I was restless, despite being unwell. 

I really enjoy crafty activities. The hospital happened to be holding an in-house competition where each individual ward got a theme, with the best decorated getting a prize. 

Being absolutely bored out of my mind, I asked if I could help them out with making decorations, which they agreed to. They provided the crafting gear and paints, and we made some pretty cool decorations. 

However, I will never forget the poor cleaners that came to do their rounds through the ward one afternoon and found me cross-legged on my bed, arms and gown covered in red paint, because I had dropped a large painted piece of decoration on myself. 

One emergency call to nurses later, and I ended up not doing most of the painting activities following that. 

That ward won the competition, and after an emergency surgery, I’m doing much better.

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Green With Envy Over Your Ability To See Color

, , , , | Healthy | March 10, 2020

(I know my coworker and his wife pretty well — I went to their wedding — and they’re often in the store either helping with or participating in events when they aren’t working. They’ve finished both of their events this day and are going past the counter to leave, and they walk by me. I overhear their discussion, and they rope me in.)

Coworker: “It’s brown!”

Coworker’s Wife: “It is not! [My Name], what’s the color of my shirt?”

(Because she is wearing a BRIGHT RED JACKET, it’s pretty obvious what color the shirt is; however, if you just glanced at it, it might be misconstrued as brown.)

Me: “Uh, it’s green?”

Coworker: “Is it? But it’s brown!”

Me: *peering at it* “No, it’s green; it’s a dark green.” 

Coworker’s Wife: “It’s emerald green.”

Coworker: “Well, it had better not be olive green, because that’s a color that doesn’t exist.”

Me: “But… What?” 

Coworker’s Wife: “What color are [My Name]’s bracelets?” 

(On my wrists are a paracord bracelet and a FitBit band, respectively.) 

Coworker: “Well, I know that one is bright green and purple, and that one is… well, I dunno.”

Me: “[Coworker], it’s green. You’re colorblind.” 

(I guess you learn something new every day — and this came as a bit of a shock to him, too!)

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It’s A Dragon! It’s A Kangaroo! No, It’s A Whole Mess Of Rabbits!

, , , , , , | Learning | February 28, 2020

I’m in my final year of high school. My senior science class is quite small and has a very casual atmosphere. We’re also fairly close with our teacher.  

I quite enjoy origami, and one day, I make a little dragon to de-stress. On a whim, I decide to drop it off on my teacher’s desk for her to find. She really likes it and asks me if it’s a crane. This happens as well with a kangaroo that I’d made for another teacher, a parrot — also for another teacher — and a rabbit.  

Later on, we’re discussing something unrelated and the topic turns to her inability to distinguish origami animals. I jokingly say that I should cover her desk with rabbits due to how they multiply explosively, and I think no more of it. The next day, however, I find another method for an origami rabbit, remember what I said to her, and put together a plan.  

I’d given her the first “parent” rabbit — the same rabbit that she mistook for a crane — on a Monday, so I spent Tuesday gathering materials and folding the second “parent” rabbit. As the first rabbit was folded with yellow paper, the second rabbit was folded with blue paper to contrast the first one, using the different method that I’d found. This rabbit was delivered on Wednesday, just before our class started.  

On Thursday, I took three sheets of green paper, divided them into quarters, and started making tiny rabbits, using both methods. I also made a little exploding envelope, complete with directions on how to operate it. On the inside, I drew a cartoony explosion — complete with a “BOOM” in the middle — and wrote, “I did say that rabbits multiply explosively!” underneath.

On Friday, I waited until she’d left the staffroom to put the last stage of my plan into action. As soon as she’d left the building, I snuck up to the staffroom, scattered the “baby rabbits” all over her laptop, and left the envelope with the directions facing upward. I then ran back to where I usually sat and waited until I saw her head back to the staffroom.  

This next part is a combination of what I’d heard after I ran up to the staffroom and what was relayed to me after she’d found the rabbits.

She didn’t see anything amiss at first… until she walked closer and saw her laptop covered in tiny little origami rabbits. She went, “Oh, my God, that’s a lot of rabbits!” in a fairly excited tone. After she’d said that, she saw the envelope, picked it up, and followed the directions. The envelope “exploded” as it was supposed to, and after she read the message, she started laughing.  

All in all, I think it was a pretty successful prank.

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Turning Being Cheap Into An Artform

, , , , | Right | February 20, 2020

(I am an artist and this is about my first convention, about ten years ago — around 2010. I am very nervous and because I don’t know what to do the whole day, I decide to make an art piece, in the hopes it attracts people. It does and it helps my sales a bit. The piece I am making is A3 sized and I start it at 9:00 am. I finish at 4:00 pm. A few people visit me throughout the day to see my progress.)

Lady: “Oh, you finished! It looks wonderful!”

Me: “Thank you.”

Lady: “I saw you started this piece this morning and I was amazed you finished it this fast.”

Me: “The atmosphere really gave me energy.”

Lady: “Let me buy this from you.”

Me: “Oh, I’m sorry, but I don’t sell originals. Only prints.”

Lady: “What? Don’t be silly! I’d pay a good price for it. Here, let me pay you 5€.”

Me: “No, ma’am, I really don’t sell my originals. Maybe you can find something on my table that interests you? The prints are quite affordable.”

Lady: “Oh, come on. I like this piece. How about 6€?” 

Me: “Ma’am, I worked all day on this. And I don’t sell originals. If I would, I couldn’t offer these affordable prices on the prints.”

Lady: “Then what do you want? 10€? It’s not worth 10€; it’s just a kid’s drawing!”

(I am twenty-six years old.)

Me: “I’m sorry, but I don’t want to sell this. I can have it made as a print for you and ship it to you, if you’d like that?”

Lady: “No, I want the original. It’s quite clear you don’t know how things work around here. You won’t make any money as an artist if you go on like this!”

(The lady left. I may not be a world-famous illustrator, but I do know my worth.)

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