Friday, August 13, 2010

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures

Tonight anons, lets talk about moments we have hit rock bottom and done something really pathetic. The funnier they are the better. Here is mine.
In my college dorm room there is a sink and a kettle. One night, instead of going down to the kitchen, where I knew there would be people cooking, I filled the sink with boiling water and put a can of soup in there to heat it up... The worst part was it worked really well, I pretty much don't have to leave the room for anything... except to go to class and to buy more food...... make of that what you will..
Now you!!



Yeah, can you explain to me how that's really pathetic?

I'll help you out, OP.
The worst moment of my life is when I was taking a summer semester in order to claw my way back into my university. I had no money, no job, and no chance of getting a job. I had 2 weeks left to go and all I had in my room to eat was a jar of nutella.
I went to Taco Bell to buy two burritos, one was going to be for dinner, and the other one was going to be for lunch the next day. As I go to pay for my two 99c burritos, my card gets denied. Instead, I ask for just one burrito and the card is accepted.
I walk back to my dorm, alone, my one burrito in hand.
I eat it in the dark.
I spend the next two weeks living off of nutella and a box of cereal a friend gave me. If I'm not at class, or doing homework, I'm sleeping so I can't feel how hungry I am.
GOOD TIMES.


I'll help you out, OP.
The worst moment of my life is when I was taking a summer semester in order to claw my way back into my university. I had no money, no job, and no chance of getting a job. I had 2 weeks left to go and all I had in my room to eat was a jar of nutella.
I went to Taco Bell to buy two burritos, one was going to be for dinner, and the other one was going to be for lunch the next day. As I go to pay for my two 99c burritos, my card gets denied. Instead, I ask for just one burrito and the card is accepted.
I walk back to my dorm, alone, my one burrito in hand.
I eat it in the dark.
I spend the next two weeks living off of nutella and a box of cereal a friend gave me. If I'm not at class, or doing homework, I'm sleeping so I can't feel how hungry I am.
GOOD TIMES.


Oh wow, I've been there. Although not as extreme because I always had someone to mooch from.
Being a broke college student sucks.

I dunno', I could probably talk about the stupid sh*t I've done around girls that are interested in me. I'm sort of like, hmm, who was it, Stan? from South Park who throws up whenever that dame talks to him.
I suppose in following of the theme of this thread, I once lived off rice for a month because I was saving my money for work. During the last days before I found work, I would sometimes not eat at all because of my disgust with rice.

Currently in Uni. It's exams week, which means I have no reason to leave my dorm on the edge of campus. I'm in a manual wheelchair, so the effort required to go uphill to the centre of campus is only worth it once per day, max. Problem is, that's where the food is. So currently I'm living on rice, crackers and salsa, and praying it will last me until next friday.

One night I came home so drunk that I couldn't remember how to use the toilet. I pissed in the trash can in the bathroom. With the lid closed. Come to think of it, it was more on than in the trash can. Yeah, I pissed on the trash can.

Most of my "pathetic" stories involve girls and regret. You've heard it all before.
I'll give you a food story instead:
Found an old plate of pasta left on kitchen counter. The pasta was dried up, like it hadn't been cooked. I re-cooked it and ate it. It almost tasted like freshly cooked pasta, only a little less pronounced in its taste.

I live with a friend of mine in a quaint little apartment near college. One night, not very long ago, we went out drinking like there was no tomorrow.
We live on the second floor, no elevator... So there we were, trying to climb the stairs when it dawns on us we are physically incapable of doing so on two feet. About half and hour later, we reach the second floor, having gone up on all fours, having also vomited on the stairs more than once.
Then, neither of us could get the key in the f**king doorlock. Oh Jesus, it was like my brain had been sucked out.
My friend then gets the idea that we should sleep on the floor in front of the door. It seemed like a great idea at the time.
We woke up the next day, all f**ked up from the (old) wood floor, with massive hangovers... Not to mention sticky and in a delicious puddle of our own vomit.

I did this reflexively without even thinking:
>open door of room to go down to bathroom
>hear someone else walking up the stairs
>duck back into room
>stupid housemates, it's not like I needed to piss that badly anyway
>return to browsing web, bladder uncomfortably full

OP, i'd NEVER leave my room if i had a sink and a kettle! holy sh*t!
i make ramen in my room when i don't feel like walking to the dining hall, and i use bathroom water because the normal sink is farther away than the bathroom sink.
and i go through phases where i hate my room. i am so close to peeing in bottles, i swear.

Wow, and I thought my time of eating only potatoes, onions and gravy was pretty unpalatable.

I was on vacation with my parents. I was sixteen at the time, and morbidly obese. Back then, vacations always caused a lot of stress for me because I never knew if the hotels we stayed in had toilets capable of handling my gargantuan megash*ts.
We spent four nights at a Super 8 in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. My parents gave me the grace of having my own hotel room while we were there, which was the only good thing about the place. The toilet in my room had the suction power of a turkey baster; it had no chance of handling what I would put into it.
For the first couple of days there, I was fine not taking a sh*t. It didn't bother me at all, I felt fine, and I just didn't think about it. But, on the third night there, holding it in any longer simply became too much to bear. I needed to sh*t so badly that I couldn't fall asleep that night. After tossing and turning for nearly an hour I ran in a panic to my bathroom. I couldn't hold it for a second longer. I dropped my pants, squatted over the edge of the bathtub, and dropped a huge deuce in it.
When I was done, I got up and looked at what I had created. It was horrible. The odor was like nothing I had experienced before; it was completely overpowering. I felt compelled to retch and immediately turned on the bathroom vent and left the room.

Continued from

I was on vacation with my parents. I was sixteen at the time, and morbidly obese. Back then, vacations always caused a lot of stress for me because I never knew if the hotels we stayed in had toilets capable of handling my gargantuan megash*ts.
We spent four nights at a Super 8 in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. My parents gave me the grace of having my own hotel room while we were there, which was the only good thing about the place. The toilet in my room had the suction power of a turkey baster; it had no chance of handling what I would put into it.
For the first couple of days there, I was fine not taking a sh*t. It didn't bother me at all, I felt fine, and I just didn't think about it. But, on the third night there, holding it in any longer simply became too much to bear. I needed to sh*t so badly that I couldn't fall asleep that night. After tossing and turning for nearly an hour I ran in a panic to my bathroom. I couldn't hold it for a second longer. I dropped my pants, squatted over the edge of the bathtub, and dropped a huge deuce in it.
When I was done, I got up and looked at what I had created. It was horrible. The odor was like nothing I had experienced before; it was completely overpowering. I felt compelled to retch and immediately turned on the bathroom vent and left the room.



I felt panic setting in again. I didn't feel like I was going to die anymore, but now there was a huge steaming sh*t in my bathtub, and I had to get rid of it somehow. I knew it had no chance of going down the toilet in one piece; it was wider than the drain. That meant I only had one option. I was going to have to break it apart and flush the pieces down one at a time.
I ransacked my room looking for an object I could use to cut the log into pieces. I found nothing more substantial than a single used Q-tip in the bottom of my suitcase. I attempted to use it to cut the log apart, the it was physically wider than the Q-tip was long. Worse, the Q-tip quickly folded under the density of this enormous sh*t, and it broke in half.
All other options eliminated, I was forced to used the method of last resort. I broke it into six sections by hand. With my BARE HANDS. Then, I took each individual piece and flushed them down the toilet one by one. Several times during this process, I had to get up and frantically leave the bathroom when I began retching from the overwhelming smell.
When it was all over, I washed out the bathtub and then took an hour-long shower. I spent most of that hour scrubbing my hands. It still wasn't sufficient to get the smell off my skin. My hand still smelled in the morning, and for the rest of the day after that.
I have never been more ashamed in my life.

I eat hot chocolate packets without making them. Just the powder. Tastes great and goes great with milk.
Same with those instant oatmeal packets. Chewy, and all the flavoring sinks to the bottom so its like eating candy at the end.

Unplugged toilet by hand. Threw the sh*t over my garden on top of a mosque.

Does this not seem pathetic? To avoid using the microwave in the kitchen?


Currently in Uni. It's exams week, which means I have no reason to leave my dorm on the edge of campus. I'm in a manual wheelchair, so the effort required to go uphill to the centre of campus is only worth it once per day, max. Problem is, that's where the food is. So currently I'm living on rice, crackers and salsa, and praying it will last me until next friday.


I would so bring you food if we went to the same school D:


Continued from

I felt panic setting in again. I didn't feel like I was going to die anymore, but now there was a huge steaming sh*t in my bathtub, and I had to get rid of it somehow. I knew it had no chance of going down the toilet in one piece; it was wider than the drain. That meant I only had one option. I was going to have to break it apart and flush the pieces down one at a time.
I ransacked my room looking for an object I could use to cut the log into pieces. I found nothing more substantial than a single used Q-tip in the bottom of my suitcase. I attempted to use it to cut the log apart, the it was physically wider than the Q-tip was long. Worse, the Q-tip quickly folded under the density of this enormous sh*t, and it broke in half.
All other options eliminated, I was forced to used the method of last resort. I broke it into six sections by hand. With my BARE HANDS. Then, I took each individual piece and flushed them down the toilet one by one. Several times during this process, I had to get up and frantically leave the bathroom when I began retching from the overwhelming smell.
When it was all over, I washed out the bathtub and then took an hour-long shower. I spent most of that hour scrubbing my hands. It still wasn't sufficient to get the smell off my skin. My hand still smelled in the morning, and for the rest of the day after that.
I have never been more ashamed in my life.


I really cannot stop laughing, are you still morbidly obese, out of interest?


I really cannot stop laughing, are you still morbidly obese, out of interest?


No, in the years since that incident I seriously reconsidered my life and have lost fifty pounds.

I started flirting with models via Twitter, MySpace and Facebook. All of them ignore me.


Wow, and I thought my time of eating only potatoes, onions and gravy was pretty unpalatable.


You're lucky.
I can't even think of eating rice without getting sick to my stomach.


Tonight anons, lets talk about moments we have hit rock bottom and done something really pathetic. The funnier they are the better. Here is mine.
In my college dorm room there is a sink and a kettle. One night, instead of going down to the kitchen, where I knew there would be people cooking, I filled the sink with boiling water and put a can of soup in there to heat it up... The worst part was it worked really well, I pretty much don't have to leave the room for anything... except to go to class and to buy more food...... make of that what you will..
Now you!!


You think you have it bad? I chopped off my ear and gave it to my girlfriend. She dumped me on the spot and no I dont want to talk about it. Picture related it's one of my works.

Over the years my standards dropped and dropped until they hit total rock bottom. So I sarted flirting with this mildly acne ridden fat girl. She instantly rejected me. Seems like I had begun to drill into the rock.

I got drunk last night and apologized to everyone on my contact list for no reason. Still not sure why I did that, but it appears I hit rock bottom to everyone else.


Over the years my standards dropped and dropped until they hit total rock bottom. So I sarted flirting with this mildly acne ridden fat girl. She instantly rejected me. Seems like I had begun to drill into the rock.


Don't worry bro, some fat ugly girls reject men because many of them have incredibly low self-esteem. They use rejection for some cheap instant validation and to protect themselves from being hurt later. Furthermore, some fat girls have unreasonably high standards.
Start drillin bitches instead of rock, homie.


Don't worry bro, some fat ugly girls reject men because many of them have incredibly low self-esteem. They use rejection for some cheap instant validation and to protect themselves from being hurt later. Furthermore, some fat girls have unreasonably high standards.
Start drillin bitches instead of rock, homie.


Well, since girls better looking than her rejected me even faster I guess this was not the case here. Sooner or later I'm gonna become a monk or some sh*t. This is not even funny anymore.


Well, since girls better looking than her rejected me even faster I guess this was not the case here. Sooner or later I'm gonna become a monk or some sh*t. This is not even funny anymore.


depression, low-self esteem, and a negative feedback loop
You'll never get out of it.

I used to live in a sharehouse with random students. I didn't know them very well and have bad social anxiety, so I spent most of the time hiding in my room. We're talking days on end without seeing or speaking to anyone.
Groceries were kept under my bed. I was too scared to use the kitchen, but I had a bunch of raw pasta. I sprinkled some salt on it and ate it like chips to keep the hunger at bay.

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