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General O/T Chit Chat Thread

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Have you ever been?!

Of course! Everyone, gay or straight, should go at least once IMO.

In fact I first went when I was 8. Which leads me to my heartwarming story for the day.


Some background first. My grandparents have always been unashamed socialists but also very devout Catholics, in particular my abuela. She would tell me again and again that one of the most important lessons God taught us was to always be honest, because it was the lies and deception of the serpent that led to the fall of man.

So anyway my family and I went down to Sydney to visit my grandparents for the start of Lent and we decided to go out for dinner one night and ended up at some restaurant just off Oxford St. And it just so happened that our waiter was trans and me being the clueless 8-year-old that I was asked 'Why is that man dressed like a girl!?' to which my abuela replied 'because they're being honest' and explained to me that some people are different and that that wasn't a bad thing. That weekend I went, with my family, to my very first mardi gras.

As I got older and began to come to terms with my own sexuality I would often think back to what my abuela said that night and it was probably her words that gave me the strength to come out. I suspected that she said what she did exactly for that reason so a few years back I asked her and she told me she said it because it was the truth, a truth she thought one day I might need.
 
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I always say I have my man period! or am MANstruating
Oh yes you do! I have seen you post that actually. Well there you go... I am curious what the symptoms are though. For example some girls are much more sensitive and their breast size increases.
 
Of course! Everyone, gay or straight, should go at least once IMO.

In fact I first went when I was 8. Which leads me to my heartwarming story for the day.


Some background first. My grandparents have always been unashamed socialists but also very devout Catholics, in particular my abuela. She would tell me again and again that one of the most important lessons God taught us was to always be honest, because it was the lies and deception of the serpent that led to the fall of man.

So anyway my family and I went down to Sydney to visit my grandparents for the start of Lent and we decided to go out for dinner one night and ended up at some restaurant just off Oxford St. And it just so happened that our waiter was trans and me being the clueless 8-year-old that I was asked 'Why is that man dressed like a girl!?' to which my abuela replied 'because they're being honest' and explained to me that some people are different and that that wasn't a bad thing. That weekend I went, with my family, to my very first mardi gras.

As I got older and began to come to terms with my own sexuality I would often think back to what my abuela said that night and it was probably her words that gave me the strength to come out. I suspected that she said what she did exactly for that reason so a few years back I asked her and she told me she said it because it was the truth, a truth she thought one day I might need.

That's beautiful, consuela :)
 
Of course! Everyone, gay or straight, should go at least once IMO.

In fact I first went when I was 8. Which leads me to my heartwarming story for the day.


Some background first. My grandparents have always been unashamed socialists but also very devout Catholics, in particular my abuela. She would tell me again and again that one of the most important lessons God taught us was to always be honest, because it was the lies and deception of the serpent that led to the fall of man.

So anyway my family and I went down to Sydney to visit my grandparents for the start of Lent and we decided to go out for dinner one night and ended up at some restaurant just off Oxford St. And it just so happened that our waiter was trans and me being the clueless 8-year-old that I was asked 'Why is that man dressed like a girl!?' to which my abuela replied 'because they're being honest' and explained to me that some people are different and that that wasn't a bad thing. That weekend I went, with my family, to my very first mardi gras.

As I got older and began to come to terms with my own sexuality I would often think back to what my abuela said that night and it was probably her words that gave me the strength to come out. I suspected that she said what she did exactly for that reason so a few years back I asked her and she told me she said it because it was the truth, a truth she thought one day I might need.
Prisus Christ!

I just watched I'm a Celebrity, and they were sharing their precious messages, and I very barely held it together watching each member share their raw primal love responses to their letters. Your beautiful story couldn't have come at a worse time! I am not sure what is happening, but I have salt water leaking from my eyes!!!!!

FROM MY FUCKING EYES I TELLS YA!!!!!

Thank you for sharing that. It really is a beautiful memory for you and a heartwarming story for you to share to those of us who don't have a wise abuela.

What a lucky man you are.

I promise when I do get to my first Mardi gras, I'll have a cocktail in honour of your beloved abuela and I will toast truth.
 
Peter the pie loved being a pie. The smell, the sights, and the feeling he got inside himself whenever he looked in the mirror and saw his glorious pie self was a sight to behold. Being born a pie was his destiny. He knew that, and he knew that he had to start his own pie band. From the moment he was fully formed a pie he knew that this was the life for him. Peter was no ordinary pie, he was a very special pie with loads of watermelon and rabbits inside of him. And his pastry, soft yet pure, was specially made by a thousand chefs workings 24 hours a day. Peter was the best watermelon rabbit pie in the country. He won numerous awards and did a tour of this nation, stopping to sign autographs and taking time out to read to the blind. But he never forgot that he was put on to this earth to start a pie musical group that would play all around the country. The band would be called 3.14 and they would play some hit songs, get tired of touring, fight a lot, make some studio albums, then disband once it becomes clear that the pies want different things out of their musical careers.

However, one day that all changed. Peter was sitting in his normal spot when this big human face started to look at him oddly. Peter was not sure what was happening, and he got very confused as the hands of the human grabbed Peter. Peter was being kidnapped. He could see all these blurry images around him as the human ran out of the front door and went to the garbage bin. This scared Peter, it scared him a lot. He had heard tales about this bin, where pies who are too old get sent to. Apparently rats eat the pies in the garbage bin, and the smell is so awful that you pray to yourself that the rats will eat you quickly.

The human walked towards the garbage bin, opened the green lid, and chucked Peter in. Peter screamed, but no one could hear him, as he landed on the huge pile of rubbish in the bin. Garbage bags brimming to breaking point, empty take away containers with still half the food left over, cigars from cuba, watermelon skin, and much more made this garbage bin very smelly for Peter. The stench was overpowering. It consumed him, he was going to suffer like this for eternity, some sort of hell on earth. But why should he have to suffer? He had been a good pie, he did not deserve to go like this.

Suddenly he heard a noise. A big grey rat appeared from beneath the watermelon skins and looked over at Peter with a curious look. Peter was scared, but he knew that getting eaten by a rat was far better then suffering this awful smell. The rat came closer to Pet until he started to walk on him. Then he took a small nibble out of him, then another nibble, and another nibble. Then another rat joined the other rat, and another rat joined, sand another, and another, all came together out from underneath the piles of garbage that Peter was sitting on and soon there were hundreds of rats slowly eating away at Peter. Peter loved this, he loved being eaten, for he knew that this was relief, relief from the smell that would have haunted his dreams and nightmares for the rest of his life. The rats continued to eat Peter, until Peter was no more.
 
Peter the pie loved being a pie. The smell, the sights, and the feeling he got inside himself whenever he looked in the mirror and saw his glorious pie self was a sight to behold. Being born a pie was his destiny. He knew that, and he knew that he had to start his own pie band. From the moment he was fully formed a pie he knew that this was the life for him. Peter was no ordinary pie, he was a very special pie with loads of watermelon and rabbits inside of him. And his pastry, soft yet pure, was specially made by a thousand chefs workings 24 hours a day. Peter was the best watermelon rabbit pie in the country. He won numerous awards and did a tour of this nation, stopping to sign autographs and taking time out to read to the blind. But he never forgot that he was put on to this earth to start a pie musical group that would play all around the country. The band would be called 3.14 and they would play some hit songs, get tired of touring, fight a lot, make some studio albums, then disband once it becomes clear that the pies want different things out of their musical careers.

However, one day that all changed. Peter was sitting in his normal spot when this big human face started to look at him oddly. Peter was not sure what was happening, and he got very confused as the hands of the human grabbed Peter. Peter was being kidnapped. He could see all these blurry images around him as the human ran out of the front door and went to the garbage bin. This scared Peter, it scared him a lot. He had heard tales about this bin, where pies who are too old get sent to. Apparently rats eat the pies in the garbage bin, and the smell is so awful that you pray to yourself that the rats will eat you quickly.

The human walked towards the garbage bin, opened the green lid, and chucked Peter in. Peter screamed, but no one could hear him, as he landed on the huge pile of rubbish in the bin. Garbage bags brimming to breaking point, empty take away containers with still half the food left over, cigars from cuba, watermelon skin, and much more made this garbage bin very smelly for Peter. The stench was overpowering. It consumed him, he was going to suffer like this for eternity, some sort of hell on earth. But why should he have to suffer? He had been a good pie, he did not deserve to go like this.

Suddenly he heard a noise. A big grey rat appeared from beneath the watermelon skins and looked over at Peter with a curious look. Peter was scared, but he knew that getting eaten by a rat was far better then suffering this awful smell. The rat came closer to Pet until he started to walk on him. Then he took a small nibble out of him, then another nibble, and another nibble. Then another rat joined the other rat, and another rat joined, sand another, and another, all came together out from underneath the piles of garbage that Peter was sitting on and soon there were hundreds of rats slowly eating away at Peter. Peter loved this, he loved being eaten, for he knew that this was relief, relief from the smell that would have haunted his dreams and nightmares for the rest of his life. The rats continued to eat Peter, until Peter was no more.
I must of been dropped on my head many times as a child, but I honestly enjoy reading your short stories. I could definitely see you as a children's author, a morbid story teller at that, but definitely appealing enough for a young audience
 
I must of been dropped on my head many times as a child, but I honestly enjoy reading your short stories. I could definitely see you as a children's author, a morbid story teller at that, but definitely appealing enough for a young audience

Thank you for your kind words. I have always loved writing, but I think I prefer playwriting as my favourite type of story telling. That story that you read I just made up on the spot.

I suppose children's author would be a good market to get into.
 
Prisus Christ!

I just watched I'm a Celebrity, and they were sharing their precious messages, and I very barely held it together watching each member share their raw primal love responses to their letters. Your beautiful story couldn't have come at a worse time! I am not sure what is happening, but I have salt water leaking from my eyes!!!!!

FROM MY FUCKING EYES I TELLS YA!!!!!

Thank you for sharing that. It really is a beautiful memory for you and a heartwarming story for you to share to those of us who don't have a wise abuela.

What a lucky man you are.

I promise when I do get to my first Mardi gras, I'll have a cocktail in honour of your beloved abuela and I will toast truth.

Ha! She's a special woman that's for sure.
 
Thank you for your kind words. I have always loved writing, but I think I prefer playwriting as my favourite type of story telling. That story that you read I just made up on the spot.

I suppose children's author would be a good market to get into.
I think so. You have authors like Paul Jennings with his unbelievable, uncanny, every other 'un' book out there and they are a little twisted and strange for a child to read, but fantastic books none the less. Even Roald Dahl books were morbid in some ways. The first time I read James and the giant peach was the strangest yet most exciting thing. It was so nonsensical, yet so magical, you don't question how things work but you're just caught in the plot. You're a story teller Reepbot, whether it be for plays or books or just on these forums, you have a way in telling it which is intriguing.

I don't even try and hide that I love children's books lol. My favourite books are that of a child haha
 
I think so. You have authors like Paul Jennings with his unbelievable, uncanny, every other 'un' book out there and they are a little twisted and strange for a child to read, but fantastic books none the less. Even Roald Dahl books were morbid in some ways. The first time I read James and the giant peach was the strangest yet most exciting thing. It was so nonsensical, yet so magical, you don't question how things work but you're just caught in the plot. You're a story teller Reepbot, whether it be for plays or books or just on these forums, you have a way in telling it which is intriguing.

I don't even try and hide that I love children's books lol. My favourite books are that of a child haha

I'm having visions of you tucking in your kids, pulling out a dog-eared copy of There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly and you kids moaning 'Not again mum!'.
 
I think so. You have authors like Paul Jennings with his unbelievable, uncanny, every other 'un' book out there and they are a little twisted and strange for a child to read, but fantastic books none the less. Even Roald Dahl books were morbid in some ways. The first time I read James and the giant peach was the strangest yet most exciting thing. It was so nonsensical, yet so magical, you don't question how things work but you're just caught in the plot. You're a story teller Reepbot, whether it be for plays or books or just on these forums, you have a way in telling it which is intriguing.

I don't even try and hide that I love children's books lol. My favourite books are that of a child haha

I do like childrens books. Roald Dahl would have to be my favourite children's author, followed by JK RRowling and the person who wrote the Asterix books.

But my favourite genre is mystery.
 
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