its kind of funny how america has turned into this angelic land of real life pokemon and you guys have all these lovely encounters bcos meanwhile in england i went on a 5 minute walk and got three variations of ‘twat’ yelled at me from cars passing me bcos i was on pokemon go

me: *decides to go out and get food*
some guy: *has angled his car sideways so it’s blocking the entire road to the bridge while he leans out the window and talks to some woman who’s walking farther away from him into an empty reservoir with her phone out*
me: Frickin’ Pokemon trainers.

My mom just used the word f*ggot and refused to apologize when I told her how disgusting that word is and went off on a rant about how these days she “can’t say anything” and how she’s “used that word all her life” and I just feel sick to my fucking stomach.

a man yelled at me from his car while I was playing Pokemon GO :(

and as I was walking home trying not to cry an orange bobtail cat came up to me and gave me a cuddle and the sun was setting and I pet the cat and I felt better


We heard yelling outside. Two women were yelling at each other, one of them was yelling from her car while she was driving, following the other woman who was on foot. And I’m not talking like they were just talking loudly- they were flat-ut screaming at each other. Only comprehensible words I could hear were ‘bitch’ ‘get out your car’ and ‘get your ass over here.’ The woman in the car was slowed down so she could yell at her from the car and it was starting to cause traffic to slow down. No one could get around her because oncoming traffic is hard to see from around the corner and the woman wouldn’t just drive off. So like there was a quarter mile of just traffic from this lady yelling obscenities from the street like…

… damn. 

Today when my mom and I were driving in town, we literally saw one of my old high school friends by the library trying to claim the gym. I yelled at him from the car and he was like YO CARLY and tomorrow we are going to go a few towns over and hunt pokes, pokemon is magical

anonymous asked:

Have you ever been to Poland? Idk just curious because my plane has just landed in Katowice.

On my White Busses trip, we went through Poland to get to our destination ^-^ It was a lot of fun, our teachers bought us shitty pizza and a guy yelled at us from his car, telling us that he wanted me and my friends to party if I remember correctly?? But seriously though, I loved that trip! 

Dead and Re-Buried

As I was walking home from my evening swoop around, a teenager in an ugly car called me a freak.  Now, I was wearing a cape, and sunglasses at dusk, covered in rhinestones, listening to Alien Sex Fiend, so it wasn’t an inaccurate assessment.  But really- it was a wasted opportunity.  I’ve heard worse from my own father.  He’s also considerably more creative in his insults.  Of all of the possible things to yell at me, ‘freak’ is just… disappointing.  The people who yell “It’s not Halloween!” at least show some thoughtfulness, some interest in context, aesthetic juxtaposition.

Philosophically speaking, what’s the attraction of yelling at someone from a car?  I’m bound to confess that, as a teenager, I engaged in this act of jackassery, but I did so precisely because I knew it was an awful thing to do.  I am, and have always been, an awful person.  I, however, didn’t suffer with the mistaken impression that I’d inflicted great psychological damage on anybody.  A moment’s reflection just left me feeling embarrassed.  Granted, it’s obviously an act meant to bond together members of a group; “We‘re number one,” and so forth.  This, however, presupposes that the target of this harassment wants, but is unable, to belong to this group.  That’s where the logic falls apart.  While it’s been a source of great pain to me that I’m incapable of being normal, and enjoying the rights and privileges of the normal, my appearance and manner don’t betray any of that.  I look like a damn Dracula, for fucksake.  And I can say with great certainty that, no matter how low I’ve been, I’ve never wished to be a bad driver in a twenty-year-old automobile that wasn’t fashionable when it was new, lacking in aesthetic sense, and in great want of a thesaurus.