An Inside Look Into The Gay Agenda And… Ooh! Popcorn!

, , , , | Right | February 27, 2019

(I work in a movie theatre. A customer approaches the kiosk.)

Me: “Hello. Can I get you anything?”

Customer: “A large popcorn, please.” *as I’m filling a box* “It’s very pretty in here. Is it always like this?”

Me: “Oh, no. Two of our managers just got engaged to each other, and seeing as it’s Pride Month, we decided to celebrate a little.”

Customer: “Oh!” *looks around* “So, this is what it’s like to be inside the Gay Agenda. It’s very colourful.”

(He then left the kiosk and walked into his screening, while I stood there shouting, asking if she still wanted his popcorn.)

Desensitized To Violence

, , , , , , | Learning | February 25, 2019

(I’m taking a class on the history of animation. One of our assignments is to go to the library where there is a video reserved for the class to watch in our off time, featuring various old theatrical cartoons that were banned from television for various reasons, mostly due to being politically incorrect. After this, we have to write a paper on it. On the day that the assignment is due, we end up having an in-class discussion on the cartoons that we saw. One cartoon, in particular, looks like it came out either in the late 1920s or early 30s, and everyone keeps talking about the beginning that had a rather blatant Jewish stereotype.)

Me: “Wait a minute. So, we’re discussing a cartoon that ended with piles of dead bodies, many of which were dismembered, and there was even an on-screen decapitation, but the part everyone here is hung up on is the Jewish stereotype that was on screen for about three seconds?”

Old Testament For An Old Hag

, , , , , | Related | February 23, 2019

(My cousin recently got engaged but her mom is not very happy about it. My future cousin-in-law has tattoos and piercings. My aunt is… old-fashioned, you could say. This happens when we’re having a family BBQ to celebrate the engagement.)

Aunt: *to my father, who is supervising the grill* “Ugh, what does she see in that boy?”

Dad: “What are you talking about?”

Aunt: “That pierced brat who seduced my sweet angel.”

Dad: “Sis, please don’t be one of those people. He’s a very charming young man.”

Aunt: “How is that charming?”

(She points at my fiancé who is showing us his newest tattoo)

Aunt: “Why couldn’t she find a nice, God-fearing boy? I doubt he even knows what a Bible looks like; if he did he probably wouldn’t look like a heathen.”

Dad: *loud enough for everyone to hear* “[Aunt], I’ve never had a problem with your beliefs before, but now I think I’ve had enough. You’ve become really fanatical and obnoxious lately.”

Aunt: “How dare you!”

Dad: “Let me put it this way. One: the Bible is thousands of years old and has been translated and retranslated so many times, who knows what it originally said? Two: as far as I’m aware, the Bible is against mutilating your body and demonic symbols. His tattoos are beautiful and meaningful to him; I actually listened to the stories behind them. And three, we’re eating hamburgers, your dress is cotton and lace, you’re wearing jewelry, and both I and your husband have shaved our beards. Do I have to rephrase all that in order for you to understand? “

(My aunt stayed quiet for the rest of the day. My uncle later confessed to me that this was the event to finally convince him to get a divorce.)

Main Street Is For Squares

, , , , , | Right | February 20, 2019

(I am walking when a couple of Americans approach me, clearly annoyed.)

Male Tourist: “Where is the main street?”

Me: “Well, in Italy we do not have a main street as you have in the States. We have a main square, usually, but if you’re searching for—“

Male Tourist: “What do you mean, you don’t have a main street?!”

Me: “I mean that if you’re searching for [Famous Shopping Street], I’ll be glad to give you the indications, but it’s not a main street. The city centre is collocated around [Main Square].”

Male Tourist: “Well, that’s stupid!”

Me: “No, it’s not. It’s just different from the United States.”

Female Tourist: *huffing* “You all should learn from us, you know? A main square makes no sense at all.”

Me: *starting to be a little annoyed at this point* “Whatever. This is how things work here.”

Male Tourist: “Well, it’s still stupid. We do things much better in our country.”

Me: *deciding to leave* “With all due respect, you elected Donald Trump. Good luck!”

It’s Women That Drive The Relationship

, , , , | Romantic | February 20, 2019

(My husband and myself are driving along a dirt road when I notice an odd noise.)

Me: “There’s an odd noise on my side of the car; it’s like something is scraping.”

Husband: “I can’t hear a thing.”

Me: “It’s coming from the passenger side front wheel and it gets louder when you use the brakes.”

Husband: “We are on a dirt road; how would you hear anything? Just your imagination.”

(He won’t listen to me when I keep complaining about the noise for the next couple of weeks; he still can’t hear a thing. We need to get a registration inspection and tune-up done; we always get a mobile mechanic to come to our home.)

Mechanic: “Okay, I just need to duck off and get some new spark plugs. Is there anything else you can think of that might need doing?”

Me: “There’s a noise in the front passenger side wheel.”

Mechanic: “I just took it for a drive and didn’t hear a thing.”

Me: “I keep hearing a scrape coming from there; I think it’s the brakes.”

Mechanic: “Okay, your brakes are well within specifications–” *shows me the printout from the test he performed* “–but if it makes you happy, I’ll take a quick look at them.” *takes the wheel off to examine the pads and disks.* “Oh, my God! You were right about the brakes; the brake pad is so worn that it’s almost metal on metal. How on earth did you hear that?”

(He completes the service and I pay the bill.)

Mechanic: “Oh, if your husband says anything about the extra charge for the brakes, tell him I think his wife has bloody good hearing and that she probably saved his life, because those brakes wouldn’t have lasted a month. I’ll leave you the old pads to prove it.”

(My husband still won’t believe me and tells me that the mechanic was just humouring me because I am a woman and got extra money for nothing. My dad turns up, and my husband shows him the brake pads.)

Husband: “What do you think of these?”

Dad: *gasps* “I’ve never seen such badly worn pads in my life! You’re lucky, because I don’t think they would have lasted two more weeks.”

(That finally shut him up, but it had to come from a man because women don’t know anything about cars.)

Page 3/8912345...Last