angry owners

Sit down and shut up:

Angry former comic shop owner here.

Folks keep jamming and jiving about who and what Ol Captain America would support in today’s modern political quagmire of hashtag activism and and extremist ideologies that are so close in behavior that they might as well be the same pair of jack boots.

He would tell people to look at the real facts. Guess what? 16 years of stolid and ungrudging polarity between Red and Blue mean that neither dominant group will present those.

He would tell y'all to protect America and all her freedoms from danger. It’s not a Muslim ban, it’s a temporary restraining order against a group of countries chosen by our President’s predecessor.

He would support immigrating to America and becoming a part of its traditions, not coming here to replace them.

He was a proud American, a proud soldier, who fictionally killed the ever living fuck out of ACTUAL NAZI’S ( not just people who disagreed with him) and communist scum looking to undermine the values and traditions that make America a beautiful and amazing place to live.

To top it off, Steve mother fucking Rodgers was killed, in combat, fighting an over reaching and deliberately controlling government.

Your lauded hero died, fighting a barely veiled metaphor for surrendering your fate to a controlling power.

Quit saying he was a border hating (or foreigner hating) icon and skewing his fight (however fictional) to your own views.

In short, put down the comic book, to the fuck outside, TCB, stop getting your FUCKING ENTIRE BELIEF STRUCTURE FROM CLICK BAIT AND SOCIAL MEDIA, buy a pair of work boots, and make America great again.


Go outside.

Ps: seriously go outside and quit virtue signaling in every way but the way that works.

Idk fuck off or something

cw: child abuse, csa implied.

kids like us speak a secret language
not necessarily of bruises.
we speak a language of the difference
between closing the cupboards
and closing them angrily.
we speak a language half child, half grown up,
rolling words and vomit over our tongues
trying to disguise the taste of last night,
to outlive tonight, to dare to hope
for a better tomorrow.

kids like us rip dead plants out of
barren soil and say it looks like us,
say we’re used to feeling wilted, say
we’re used to being thirsty, say we’re
used to people looking at us like we ruin
the scenery. kids like us make up stories
where the flowers bloom again, where the
dandelion is just as happy as the sunflower,
just happy to be alive.

kids like us have an ancestry, a broken or
not-so-broken line of battered kids and absent-
angry-alcoholic-abusive owners. we can trace our
scars all the way back to our great-greats, maybe,
watch the way they travel from parent
to child to child to child to child, and it makes sense,
and we weep for our forefathers, but we can’t hate them
any less.

kids like us find each other, use the scars like road maps,
sometimes we want family and sometimes we just want
to lock ourselves in a room together and cry it out,
swapping stories that sound like battle tales and always end with
“and then it never left me, and I never left it, and I’ll always be
the boy on the couch or the girl on the floor and I don’t know
how to grow into anything else, anymore.”

kids like us hate being called kids, feel like
we never got to live kidhood, like adulthood
escapes us in the bathwater where we rinsed the blood.
it’s like we never know what hit us. we crowd around
the campfire light of our parent’s computers and
whisper our stories to each other. look at this boy,
he’s a damn dead dandelion too, let’s prop him up
a bit, make him something beautiful. this is how
we deal with it, with little dead flowers.

kids like us speak these languages and tell these stories
as a way of being. surviving makes it sound brave. we
never survived anything that wasn’t already in us, in our
families for generations, stretching past the dawn of time
to the first person to ever look at a child and say “I am hurting
and so will she.”

kids like us have outlived that legacy a thousand times over
and by god, I hope someday
my kids won’t have to.

—  kids like us | j. savage 

Under the cut is a comic that partially explains why Angry G is the way he is: constantly angry and bitter about his life.

Inspired from @junkpilestuff​ drawing of solemn Angry G.

I HAVE TO WARN YOU. It’s probably the darkest comic I have drawn as of yet. You don’t actually SEE anything, but just in case let me set up these trigger warnings.

TRIGGER WARNING: Implied abuse & possibly non-consensual

Keep reading


Ollie is a neighborhood dog. A clever one. I like Ollie. He’s always welcome to sneak through the hole he dug under the fence, behind the hydrangea (yes Ollie, I know you don’t just appear from thin air) for a nap on my lounger. There might be a steak bone waiting for you too, as long as you don’t tease the cats (to much).

His owner is not a bad person, quite decent guy actually, but he has strict rules when it comes to what a dog should or should not do.

Ollie understands about rules. Understands that sitting on a sofa or a chair makes his owner angry. Understands that begging for food is frowned upon. Knows that barking for to long will get him in trouble. And so on…

Ollie does not like rules. Because rules are stupid, and he would really like to pee on them, but he does not know how. So, he gingerly collects overly ripe tomatoes, half-rotten apples, dead sparrows, pine cones or sticks (if there’s nothing better around) instead… and he carefully places them in his owner’s shoes.

Thinking about Soulmate AUs

Seriously what a terrible idea of a world where you have the first words your soulmate is ever going to tell you written on your arm!

What a cruel world where Castiel Novak is born with “You fucking prick” etched on his skin.

What a twisted destiny that when Castiel is driving home from the vet´s with his ill cat, the poor animal makes a distressed noise which makes him look down at it long enough for him to miss the fact that the car in front of him has stopped abruptly so he crashes into its rear which causes its angry owner to step out of the car and yell into Castiel´s window “You fucking prick!

What a crazy universe where Castiel stares at the attractive, yet obviously raging man for a good minute, just gaping at him, before he rolls down the window and breathes out “Are you kidding me?

What a beautiful world where Dean Winchester´s jaw falls slack and staring at the blue-eyed man who crashed into him, he rolls up his sleeve and reveal those exact words.


This is ridiculous, I need to feed my hedgehog but the bag is 90 percent dust. My hedgehog has been eating less and the dust is so compact that I can’t even shift it to the bottom. This is the only food for hedgehogs around here and I need to be able to feed him properly. He won’t survive off of dust!

Scam artist VS Sandwich artist.

I worked at Subway about 12 years ago. My coworker and I were closing up for the night, and some guy came to the door with a proposition. He offered to leave his cell phone in exchange for $40 to do whatever he needed to do. Once he was done, he’d return in less than an hour and give us our money back, plus an extra $20. We were young and stupid and we fell for it. This was the best night we’d ever seen for tips ($24 each!) so we felt like we had nothing to lose. He left us his (stolen) cell phone, took our money and never came back.

We looked up “Home” in the contacts list of the phone, called it, and were greeted by a very angry owner demanding to know who we were and why we had his phone. We explained the situation and told him to pick it up at our store the next day.

My coworker and I happened to have split shifts the next day, so one of us would be there no matter when the owner showed up. He came early in the morning, and coworker informed me about the pickup when I came in. About an hour after my shift started, a car backed up to the front of the store, out of sight of the window and almost in the street that ran past. This seemed odd, since there was no one else parked in front. A scraggly looking gentleman (not the guy from the night before) entered and told the other guy working with me that he left his phone here yesterday, and was told he could retrieve it. I said “Oh, right! Other guy, go find it in the back, I have to run outside.”

As I was taking the license plate down, I noticed the driver was watching me. It was the phone thief himself! I chuckled as I walked up to his window, and said he could have the phone back but first I get my money back. He pulls $40 out of his wallet, which I took, and then demanded the extra $20 he promised. He refused at first, but then I reminded him that I’ve got his plate number, and now his buddy’s on camera asking for obviously stolen property. He gently handed me the extra cash by crumbling it in his fist and throwing it at me, so I smiled and told him his buddy will be back out soon.

Back inside the store, my coworker reports that he can’t find the phone anywhere. I said, “The phone was picked up this morning by the real owner and I’m calling the police.” Scraggles ran out, jumped in the car, and they peeled off.

I never did call the police. I was just happy to piss them off and/or scare them.

Petty Revenge: Internet`s best petty revenge stories are here. | source

Dog Days | Chapter 3: Ollie, Ollie Oxen Free

My chapter, Kaeli’s is next ^_^ 

1 | 2 | 

One dog down, fifteen to go, and only a few hours to go before he’s murdered by angry pet owners for losing their dogs.

Fucking great.

Natsu checks his watch for the who the hell knows how many time today, watching the little hands race around in circles, showing time that they don’t have pass. It’s been nearly twenty minutes since they found Sammy and they haven’t seen hide nor hair of any of their other furry children. Dooms Days is getting closer and closer and they have found exactly one dog. One dog, and that’s only because some little girl found him first.

He was kind of hoping it would be one of those “the first step is always the hardest” situations, but that is definitely not the case. And to make things even better, the dogs seem to have scattered themselves across the city. Meaning they’re going to have to check everywhere, and then repeat the process because the dogs are still on the move.

This is like some hellish game of hide-and-seek and he’s losing.

Dammit, he’s never been good at this game! He was always too loud to hide without being found and too easily distracted to find anyone. This is like some twisted, childhood nightmare coming back to bite him in the ass.

It’s totally because of the strip-poker incident to. He should have known that cheating his girlfriend into taking her clothes off was a bad idea–not that their clothes would have been on at the end of the night anyway–but apparently cheating is so wrong that it’ll give you horrible karma for the rest of your life!

He was twenty dammit! He was twenty and it wasn’t like he had never seen her naked before! Besides, it’s not like Lucy had any complaints when the clothes came off. Actually, she seemed to enjoy it very much when he–moving on!

Keep reading

2016 is fired.

So, fun house update:
They found knob-and-tube wiring under our bathroom floor.
That in and of itself isn’t so shocking - pun intended - but what was disturbing was the fact that it was discovered lying right next to the ancient metal pipes for our bathtub.
Oh, and it was live. The wire arced while the contractor was capping the pipes again so he could stop working.

We are extremely lucky that no one was electrocuted and we never had a house fire.

Yes, I’m angry. The previous owners had to know about this - and it was a code violation then, too.

The good news is that we have what’s called a “code violation rider” on our insurance, so wherever they find the wiring, they have to bring it up to code. So, as they walk that wire back to its source, they must replace all of it. Given that all the wiring for the house comes up in the same place, I think we’re about to get most of our house rewired.

Or, as @dadhoc puts it, “we’re upgrading our house one facepalm at a time.”