Fuck Me

No, because you didn’t say the magic word.

:slight_smile:

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What if I’m all out of fucks, even for myself?

(Maybe go on a fucks strike, and demand Discourse allocate more fucks to give?)

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Well I hate myself because all the best jokes already seem to have been taken and I’m laughing too hard to hate everybody else. And I’ll take this opportunity to share this terrible real conversation I had with a restaurant hostess:

Me: Hi, can I get a copy of the menu?
She: The what?
Me: The menu.
She: Oh, the menu. Yes. I’m deaf.
Me: I’m sorry to hear that.

She was kidding about being deaf which ain’t a great thing to joke about but it was my reply that made me feel like a horrible person.

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*lolz!

Clever… but that’s:

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Wouldn’t @OtherMichael accuse you of cheapening the fucks?

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Fucks inflation?

Hmm…

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This entire thread is bound to go sideways.

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Well, without any fucks to give Scott Adams could go on a murder spree… :open_mouth:

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That would qualify for a “fuck me sideways” event.

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Band name?

Or huuuge mattress sale?

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I pulled a boner thread?

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Not I. I’d point out that the action democratizes the actions.

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I apologize, I haven’t pulled a boner in the last 24 hours. I’ll work on that today and get back to y’all.

Wait, that may be the start of a good Fuck Me day…

Wait, my mom is probably reading this…

Okay, there you have it! I made a regrettable life choice in a thread about regrettable life choices.

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I’m all out of fucks
I’m so fucked without you

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The more people who walk around the rest of today singing this to themselves in their heads the better.

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It’s so stuck in my head right now that I’m singing it–not to exorcise it from my memory but because I love that song. And I don’t like 99% of 80s music.

The modified version pipes through the vocal chords pretty easily, too. Trying to think of a good couple lines to close out that verse.

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We were celebrating my mother in law’s birthday at a hot springs resort in the mountains outside of Tokyo this weekend. The cake was served in a karaoke box after dinner. Happy Birthday was on, but my next song was so bad I refused to sing any more. Later, we were watching 24 hour TV (like the old Jerry Lewis telethon) and a group of blind and deaf children did a great performance, singing and dancing …

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Literacy? Negotiation? Consent?

Actually, consent really is one of my magic words, and much on par with the one to which I strongly suspect you’re alluding. I had brunch with a friend with which I’m more than a little bit in love. We’ve acknowledged that there’s a strong attraction for both of us, but we’re trying to figure out where to go with this and what it might look like when (if) we do. It reassured both of us when I noted that “Consent is one of my kinks.” (Oddly, I had never thought of it that way, but as it is something that I need to have explicitly, it certainly qualifies.)

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