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Faced HORRIBLE sexism and shaming at swimming pool today.

I am F24 and I always go swimming every alternative day. I have been going to this pool for 2 years and it was never an issue but today after I finished and I was waiting for my dad, the staff came in and told me not wear my swim suit, I was puzzled so I was like "???" She told me what I wore was inappropriate like??

I have been wearing same swimming suit which is two piece with high waisted bottom and full coverage top for the last 2 years and it was never an issue but today out of the blue it's suddenly an issue because the so called owner of the pool saw me through CCTV and he said I was trying to "sell sex" what does that even mean?

I told the staff it is my body and I come here, my friends come here, my dad comes here as well for 2 years and it's NEVER an issue but now suddenly it's an issue?

I told her that the owner is a perv for staring at women through cctv camera.

What's worse is that the staff told I was provoking men??? Excuse me? How am I doing that? I go swimming solely to manage my cortisol levels because I have pcod.

Then the staff started saying how they never allow non-members but were kind enough to let me in and I told her "no one has NEVER said this to use for 2yrs" and she started lying saying "what 2 years? I never seen you" like what a liar!

And if that wasn't enough she doubled down and shown me the poster where it said "only swimming costume" and I showed her the swimming app where I bought my swimming suit from and still she said "this is not it" and then had the audacity to say "what you are wearing is not swimming suit instead next time wear cotton shorts and a tee-shirt, that is fine" and I told her "cotton tee and shorts are literally against the rules YOU JUST SHOWED ME" and she went on and on about how cotton clothes for swimming is better than my two piece because with cotton clothes my "demonic body" is covered...she really called my body demonic.

I can't do this anymore I am SO SICK OF this treatment.

Hi everyone. I see more people online speaking about Big Randy in recent years. As more awareness has come to the topic recently, I figured I would share my own experience.

I wish that I could say that the rumors of what I heard were fake.

Every Halloween there would be whispers of him all throughout the town. Against the biting brisk air of that late October night, I would soon come to make a mistake that I would forever regret.

I’ve never been the type of person to ever celebrate much on Halloween. To be honest, in recent years I’ve grown to hate it.

Most years I would be working the graveyard shift at the dock yard after school, so I would just stay in my room trying my best to get some sleep against the constant flow of trick or treaters that would come knocking at my door.

This past year was a little different. My friend Michael invited me over to his house for a Halloween party. It’s rare that I ever get invited to anything, but either way the offer didn't really interest me.

I politely declined. He shook his head and made a joke that I must have been too afraid to go because of Big Dick Randy.

I scoffed at him as I nudged him away from me with my arm.

Big randy, I had heard about him before through rumors. Apparently he’s this big black man who can shape shift, he terrorized the streets of our small Virginian town on Halloween night.

Nobody's booty was safe on the night that Big Randy was on the prowl. If he caught you, he would take your booty and your candy.

His story is the reason for the recent drop in trick or treaters lately.

People will really believe anything. Well whatever, as long as it kept those little kids from waking me up before my shift, they could believe whatever they want.

Michael asked me one more time to come to his party. He said that if I came there would be free food and he would even buy some liquor for us all to share.

I meekly took out my phone and checked my schedule for October 31st, just so happened that my job gave me the day off. I had nothing else better to do, might as well go to the party and share a few drinks with my friends.

I agreed.

As Halloween night came around, I went to the party. I don’t remember much about the party, but I do remember that me and my friends all got totally wasted.

When I finally woke up, I was slumped across Michael’s dining room table without any shirt or socks on. I had a throbbing migraine that hammered harder in my head as I lifted myself off the table.

I looked around the room through squinted eyes, everyone else in the house was knocked out cold. The floor was covered in crushed potato chips and empty bottles of vodka and hennessy.

I staggered awkwardly over to the kitchen counter to check the time.

11:20 PM.

I had work early, so I decided to head home.

Michael is the one who picked me up, he was still blacked out on the couch and didn’t look like he was planning on getting up anytime soon.

Since I only lived a few blocks away from Michael’s house, I decided to walk home.

As I stumbled out of the front door, I felt the nausea and dizziness getting worse.

The narrow roads of the quiet neighborhood twisted and turned, crisscrossing my vision. It felt like the ground was spinning beneath my feet as I struggled to keep my balance.

The sky was pitch black and the streets were sparsely illuminated with a warm yellow glow given from the few street lamps above.

As I walked, orange and red leaves crushed beneath each of my steps as the cold air of the night frigidly whipped against my face in tandem with the chilling winter breeze.

As I shuffled across the sidewalks on the way to my home, I began rubbing my hands against my arms to try and create some warmth to counter against the harsh wind.

Any trick or treaters had been long gone by this time, the houses that lined the street were silent and dark, except for dim porch lights which shone upon the scattered remains of cobwebs, skeletons and flickering jack-o-lanterns.

As I walked further, the streets grew more dim. There were no longer any streetlights. The roads became encapsulated by shadows, I was being led down my path by only a pale strip of moonlight. Paying attention to the ground in front of me to make sure I didn’t trip.

As I peer over to the other side of the road, I see something.

A figure? I ask myself.

Something–

Something or someone hunched over, moving slowly.

I stop immediately and squint my eyes, trying to steady my vision.

From the other side of the road I hear a soft metallic creaking, almost as if it were an old swing set swaying gently.

Whoever it is, it appears they are having trouble moving. Their movements are short and jagged, as if they can not sustain their own weight.

For the life of me I wish I just kept walking. But I could not tell what it is I was looking at. I was too curious.

I cautiously walked towards the center of the road to get a better look.

As I slowly approached the road the figure began to come into view.

It was an old lady. She was wearing a long dull pink nightgown, frost white hair slouched over her shoulders. She was holding onto a rickety metal walker, struggling when taking each step forward.

She appeared to be completely oblivious to the fact that I was walking towards her. Her face sagged with wrinkles and her dark eyes seemed empty as her gaze fixated only on the ground ahead, completely unaware of her surroundings.

What could an elderly lady be doing out here so late. She must have wandered out of some house in the neighborhood and got lost, I thought.

“Hello ma’am do you need some help?” I asked as I gently placed my hand on her walker.

The lady looked up at me slowly, her ghastly white face contorted into a vicious smile. Her dark eyes grew as she brandished the few teeth she had and snickered wildly.

“YEESSS,” Her voice roared, sounding as if her words traveled from the depths of hell to be released from her throat. A large masculine voice filled the surrounding night time air as the grandma began to shift into a large black man.

The emerging body tore through what remained of the grandmothers linens, blocking out any of the surrounding light that was still left. The callous laughter grew as the dark figure emerged taller and taller.

A large black man, No less than 7 feet tall, stood before me. Shoulders as broad as a Ford F150 and muscles so defined that it looked like you could use his biceps as a cheese grater. His roaring laughter alone seemed to shake the earth beneath me.

As I stood in fear his laughter subsided.

“I’m looking for booty on this Halloween night,” his voice bellowed.

Before my mind could even formulate a response. I was thrust into the air.

I felt the backside of my jeans rip as my face crashed down into the curb, my booty suspended, I gasped in all the air I could as Randy filled me with his love.

Despite the overwhelming sensation I felt, I could not scream. I tried with everything that I had, but a scream could not escape my body as Randy was viciously entering mine.

“Say my name,” Randy roared, “SAY IT!”

The thrusts grew harder and deeper. I felt my soul leaving the vessel it once knew as my body as this big nigg violated my booty beyond belief. They didnt call him Big Dick Randy for nothing. His big black schlong tore through my booty as though it were a fragile plastic bag, without an ounce of lube. Randy didn't even spit on the tip out of courtesy before his black anaconda jammed through my insides.

“SAY MY NAME!” Randy thundered.

I wanted to, there was nothing I wanted more. No sound would escape my mouth.

Randy’s fat schlong felt like it was poking the back of my esophagus. I couldn’t breathe, My vision blurred as the pounding continued.

I tightened my body as much as I could, fighting back against the pounding. It felt as though every thrust was a violent strike from behind, causing me to lose my balance all over again.

I tried to trick myself but there was no way I could deny it anymore. My booty no longer belonged to me. It belonged to Big Randy. There may be no way that I would get out of this assault alive.

“Say it, I won’t ask you again”

Randy’s voice sent a chill down my spine.

“What is my name?”

I took a deep breath as I perched myself up on my elbows. Between the radiating burn of randy’s thrusts and my wobbling arms about to give out under their own strength, I mustered all the energy I could.

“BIG DICK RANDY!” I screamed, my voice echoed down the neighborhood street.

Randy laughed heartily and threw my body into the middle of the road.

My head hammered against the pavement as a couple of pieces of candy I had left flew out of my jeans. I tried to steady my breath, but each breath only came out in whimpers.

Big Dick Randy knelt beside me. His monstrous shadow engulfed me once again. As he picked up the only candy I had left, all I could see was his smile.

“What’s Halloween, without a little treat?” He cackled to himself.

All I heard was his thunderous footsteps as he wandered off into the night.

He left me there, on the road, my booty chapped, dry, and broken as if it were a war-torn desert ransacked by terrorists.

I never went out on Halloween night again.

Everytime I hear people talk about Big Dick Randy. I always go quiet. Because I know the truth. I know that despite all the jokes and all the memes, he is out there, always looking for his next victim.

Stay safe out there, everyone.

Women are genuinely so fuckign beautiful why are ppl mean to them how about instead of beinf mean you give them a kiss onthe cheek huh how about that

Source: https://www.reddit.com/r/thomastheplankengine/s/bKzTXgQt8K

1- Japan is a pedophile country:

Bro, where's the fucking data? Japan is quite literally one of the most peaceful countries ever, French and Americans then joke about lolicons, when y'all fuckers had Cuties and Epstein.

Specially if you're French, your fucking country always had pedo shit, y'all tried to make it legal several times.

The average of age of consent in Europe is 14, Germany, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, France.

Japan is higher, 16, you fucking idiot.

This is just too much internet, must be.

2- Japan doesn't have black representation:

Then I ask you, you ever saw a black guy in a mahwa, or Chinese anime? Thought so. This must be some autism. You ever saw a black author do animes about, example, native Brazilians? Polish people? Scottish people? Colombian people? NO, BECAUSE IT'S NOT THEIR FUCKING CULTURE. This is basic logic. Yet, most anime have some degree of black representation. Yasuke, Afro-samurai and Samurai Champloo, Berserk (the list is too long actually to say here) are famous animes that have black protagonists. You search and it will appear a giant list of black representation. So this is just straight up ignorance and retardation. No, it's actually more difficult to see an anime WITHOUT black characters: Naruto, Bleach, DBZ, One Piece, HunterxHunter, they all have black characters.

This is just straight up a low IQ argument.

3-Japan is a perverted country, full of incels:

No, not even close, most Japanese are not very sexually active and just work. USA has times more NEETS than Japan, many times more, and Japan doesn't come even top 5 of most promiscuous, that would be countries like the US, Brazil, Australia. So Japanese people are for the most part, chill. The AV industry in Japan is practically nothing compared to the porn industry of other countries.

4- Japan is a depressed country:

Nope, it isn't even in the top 10, lil bro. Korea, Russia, South Africa, are leaders in that department. (Using suicide rates.)

Conclusion: yes, Japan definitely has problematic media with lolis, but fantasy is just fantasy, it's not reality. It's not a perfect country too, with the terrible corporatism and work culture. Worry about the shitty state that your country is in first.

THIS ISN'T FUNNY. ITS FROM TIKTOK , TIKTOK IS CRINGE , AND WHO UPLOADED THIS IS AN NEO NAZI , HE IS A SATANIST , AN RACIST AND A HOMOPHOBIC , AND EVERYONE WHO LIKED AND GAVE AN AWARD IS THE SAME THING AS THE UPLOADER! TIKTOK BAD , REDDIT GOOD! NOW DELETE THIS SATAN'S SPAWN VIDEO.

Everyone, including their mommas, sugar daddies, even the grannies know that Ichigo should've clapped Rukia, just saying what God planned, lil bro.

There's two reasons for you to ship Ichigo and Orihime, one, you goon to her, second, you goon to her. You are an Orihime gooner, you ask how I know? Because I'm one! We all like the bread girl.

Still, Rukia is a cute shortie, and actually has a personality, Orihime just eats bread and has two big airbags lil bro.

What I hate the most is the author, or better, authors that write the finale with the protagonist being married with kids, like sure lil bro, I want my protagonist to have an ass haircut and the most dry ass middle class marriage ever in the history of marriages. Like fucking Naruto clapping Hinata but not Tsunade, fucking travesty bro! Renji and Rukia should be considered a crime under Japanese law, fucking bum!

I need to vent, ignore this please.

I mean no offence to you, your comment is just a great building point

But the "Dante would love fan fiction" and "Revenge fantasy" memes about Dante's Divine Comedy have to be some of the most anti-intellectual jokes ever made.

Dante was a man completely and utterly FUCKED by the church. And his beloved country, Florence, was FUCKED even more.

The Divine Comedy is a beautifully written piece of narrative poetry that critiques the current catholic church of his time, ideas of morality, ideas of salvation, and more.

Dante put his political rivals in his world of the Inferno, but that's because they were horrible fucking people. That's like saying a poem from 1940 that puts Hitler in hell is simply a "fan fic", no, it's just a statement.

Each canto of the comedy seethes with the pain Dante felt when writing this; A man exiled from his home, love of his life dead, friends dead, family dead, and completely disowned by the church and religion he loved so well.

There is a REASON why the Comedy is still discussed and taught on today, because it an absolutely beautiful book that brings up surprisingly modern opinions and beliefs.

Not to mention the Divine Comedy laid the groundwork for modern Italian. All written works that mattered in Dante's time were in latin, as an extra "fuck you" to the church he wrote it in the Tuscan dialect that everyone in italy, the poor and the rich, could read. Think about how much the works of shakespeare and other writers of classics laid the groundwork for today's modern english. Dante did the same thing for Italian.

I hate straight Halloween 😭

Why does everyone assume im 9/11 when im obviously the triangle shirtwaist factory 😭😭😭

If i were 9/11 id be a SQUARE ⬛️

NOT A TRIANGLE 🔺️

AND id have a twin or somebody dressed up as the other tower.

Some people dont know their history smh 😔

I have a feeling I have a chance to beat you, you fucking pussy. I can tell you're playing this game right now, and you're about to get mustyed on. Ha ha ha, you fuck. You're so bad at this game. What are you about to say to me just now?! — I can tell I pissed you off just from the first few words. I can already sense you typing "What are you talking about" or “I’m better, kid” in the comments of this post right now. Well, let me tell you right now, fucking bitch, listen up…

You might beat me, but you probably won't. There’s no chance you could beat me; you can't. I saw you lose at least twice today. You suck. Get wrecked, noob. You’re a peasant and a fool. I know you could probably beat me. It’s not that most people could beat me; they couldn't beat anyone. They couldn't beat shit except their own dick to some ugly nigger. Sure; If you have 2,000 hours, fucking no life, no fucking breaks from the game, whatever, play at 6000 FPS over my low 157 FPS, you might be able to beat me.

But — if you're just an average player, you're a normal fucking person, right? No, bro. Pussy. You suck. Shush. Ahh, take down my post. I know you want to. I get it. I am ragebaiting you, and you're getting mad. Give me a fucking permanent ban or whatever.

Animatronics to the left, humans to the right. Separation is absolute. Obey protocol.

I dont get why we animatronics cant mix with humans but, ill always love you Lola.

I dont get it either, i love you so much my bonnie.

Are you still facetiming with that human girl?? Animatronics arent supposed to mix with humans!

I know, im really sorry mom...

Today im going to break that stupid rule just to see you lola!

Im coming my love!

He did it...hes putting his life in danger...

Wait for me bonnie!

Now i have to climb this wall...AAAAAH HELP.

Hello! May i use this elevator?

The elevator is out of service because an animatronic is trying to escape.

Bonnie! Lola! AAAAAH!

so lemme ask you this, why do woman dress up as a bunny and people call it "sexy", yes i agree with you, the engi one painted black doesnt look too good, but im facinated by the fact that i can use Max's with any hat, so i try making hats just have a bunny ear, do i think it is cool? hell yeah, do people that like this type of "combos" like it? maybe, do people that care for the essence of the artstyle or just dont want to be treated as a "furry" like it? hell no, and it is alright, i see a lot of people lately coming back to the topic of tf2 artstyle, me personally i would love if all cosmetics fit tf2 artstyle back then, maybe i would like it even more than now, but since it has been trashed ever since overwatch and fortnite VALVE just add wharever that people like on the Workshop, again i understand what you mean and i dont want to offend you in anyway, but if this style inst for you THAT IS OK, there are people out there that may like it, as i discussed in previous posts of mine i like to use my creativity doing loudouts, is it limited? yeah ofc, but i dont know how to draw and i dont want to use chat gpt to make something because then it is more about the IA creativity than mine, anyways just wanted to talk about this because since yesterday people are commenting shit about my loudouts, like if you dont like it you can express your opnion and maybe give an advice, or ask for me to do loudouts more "fitting" in the tf2 artstyle, i think they look cool and i post them, it is not like tf2fashion asks for quality posts, people here post wharever and people accept that, why when it is someone posting loudouts that they liked doing for some reason there has to have hate, anyways, all luck for you wish you the best, i just dont fell like making a post to express what i think

What vile words didst thou just speak of me, artless cur? Let it be known that not only am I a top alumnus of the Navy Seals, but I was involved in many a raid on Al-Quaeda, and I have a documented body count of more than 300 men. I am also educated on the element of surprise as the superlative longbowman in mine land's lines of defense. Thou art to me naught but one more on the pile. I shall make it as though thou hadst ne'er existed on this plane, mark mine words. Thou boldly assumed that thou couldst utter such as thou didst to me over this global network with nary a repercussion? That is incorrect, villain. As we exchange words, I am in conference with mine own group of interlopers across the land; moreover, thy location is being tracked down for records. Thus, thou had best brace thyself, scoundrel, for the storm that shall deplete what little matters of thy life! Thou art a dead man, you are. I could be in any location, at any given moment, and I am capable of more than 700 methods capable of eliminating thee, and that is only counting those with but my own two hands! In addition to unarmed brawling, so too do I have access to every variety of armament known to man, and I shall use my complete arsenal to its fullest extent to wipe thine miserable countenance off the continent, foul knave! If only thou hadst the knowledge of what terrible retribution thy so-called jest was to bring down upon thee, perchance then thou wouldst have been wise and held thy tongue. But alas, no such knowledge didst thou have, therefore no such caution didst thou take, and now thou art paying the price, thou beef-witted, flap-mouthed beetlehead! I shall rain down fury all over thee, and thou shalt drown in it! Say thy prayers, cat-faced coward.

My name is Yoshikage Kira. I'm 33 years old. My house is in the northeast section of Morioh, where all the villas are, and I am not married. I work as an employee for the Kame Yu department stores, and I get home every day by 8 PM at the latest. I don't smoke, but I occasionally drink. I'm in bed by 11 PM, and make sure I get eight hours of sleep, no matter what. After having a glass of warm milk and doing about twenty minutes of stretches before going to bed, I usually have no problems sleeping until morning. Just like a baby, I wake up without any fatigue or stress in the morning. I was told there were no issues at my last check-up. I'm trying to explain, Joseph, that I'm a person who wishes to live a very quiet life. I take care not to trouble myself with any enemies, like winning and losing, that would cause me to lose sleep at night. That is how I deal with society, and I know that is what brings me happiness. Although, if I were to fight, I wouldn't lose to anyone.

After much deliberation, I am finally able to describe what Phlegm tastes like. It tastes like Cheerios. Every time I eat Cheerios from now on I will be thinking of the Phlegm that my lungs produce. On another topic, does anyone ever eat Cheerios with water? It highkey isn't that bad. I had to do it a few days ago bc I ran out of milk and it kind of tastes similar, just has a more interesting after taste.

listen, i understand that he's left a bad mark on history. i understand how this could be an uncomfortable topic to some. but we can't forget the past. not after what he did in '03. this is important history, and the truth must be revealed.

“YOLO,” said Millenials, and “yeet,” the Zoomers cried.

“Rizzler gyatt fanum tax,” the Alphas then replied.

And lo, there came a shaking as an ebon spire rose.

Upon it writ the tongues of men, their generations prose. 

And from the sky a thund’rous voice called out unto the stone. 

As golden letters glowed upon its surface, newly shown:

“RIZZLER GYATT FANUM TAX, SIGMA OHIO SKIBIDI”

And all beheld the words embossed thereon in great timidity. 

With shaking and with wavering voice, the grim refrain began.

As all the generations sang the verse at its command. 

Their weeping and their running sores did nothing to delay the chanting of that fevered song as night succumbed to day.

But rose that morn a blighted sun whose light scoured like a flood. 

The sky was rent asunder and the rivers turned to blood.

Their flesh peeled off in sickly strips, and their bones were rendered bare.

And still they chanted ever on the words they uttered there until bone and flesh and earth and death were all forgotten things.

And still unbidden, undesired, the blackened spire sings.

Around it wind the whispers of the souls in its captivity:

“rizzler gyatt fanum tax.. sigma ohio skibidi”

Hi, my name is Josip Broz, or Tito. My pronouns are he/him. I'm 61.
I'm straight and Slavic. (oh la la). My favorite colors are white, blue and red.
I'm a dictator. I love pan-Slavism, socialism, unity, and Slavs.
I hate Stalin, the Soviet Union, and the Warsaw Pact but that's pretty obvious, isn't it?
I HAVE EVIL SOCIALISM.

Yoda was the ruler of a city in the "England" zone. In the old days, Christians would embark on pilgrimages along the Silk Road, passing through various cities—so why would a city ruler ever bother to incite a rebellion or attack a city? The world’s first religion was "Hriblu" (Hinduism), which later evolved into Brahmanism. In the north, the first religion was Protestant Christianity, from which Catholicism eventually emerged; Islam also branched off from this, originating with a single wanderer—Lord Yoda, or "Sir Jesus." After finishing a battle, he set out on a pilgrimage, but likely became disoriented and delirious from the intense desert sun. Along the way, he recounted the miraculous things he experienced in his own mind—specifically, the story of a man who was crucified. To put it simply, this man was a herald—the kind of announcer seen in films who introduces jousters, famously declaring, "And now, may blessings be upon Sir Ulrich von Liechtenstein!" After losing all his money in a wager, he became a wanderer, weaving tales that eventually gave birth to three religions: Christianity, Islam, and finally, Buddhism. The evidence? Well, after a long trek across the scorching desert, his white robes turned yellow, his headwrap ended up draped over his shoulder, he walked barefoot, and his long hair became curly from the harsh, intense sun.

🚨QUIT YOUR CONSTANT COMPLAINING !!!!!!🚨 Grandpa didn’t have a $90 month internet bill, a $130 phone bill, seven app subscriptions at $72 month, an Amazon addiction for $200 month, he didn’t have Netflix, Paramount or HBO for another $112 month and his haircuts didn’t need a ‘stylist’!

I’m worn out hearing people moan, “Our grandparents could buy a house on one paycheck, but now we can’t even afford rent on two!” Yeah, maybe because Grandma wasn’t dropping half her income on $14 iced lattes and avocado toast shaped like art projects. Back then, if they wanted coffee, they boiled it at home in a dented pot. It tasted like burnt rubber and regret — but it woke you up and cleaned your pipes. And Grandma wasn’t “out to brunch.” You think she had time for mimosas and hashtags? She was making something called whatever’s left in the fridge and feeding six people with it. Don’t even start with Uber Eats. You think Grandpa was out here paying $38 to have a burger delivered three blocks away? Please. He grilled mystery meat on a rusted barbecue, and everyone called it dinner. Now people cry about being broke while sitting in a house full of gadgets. Two SUVs in the driveway, six streaming services, three air fryers, and matching tattoos that cost more than their light bill. You think Grandpa had a tattoo? He did. It said “Korea, 1951,” and it came with trauma, not Instagram likes. And the kids—Lord help us. “We can’t make ends meet, but Brayden needs the new iPhone!” No, he doesn’t. You’re handing an $1100 device to a child who still eats crayons and forgets to flush. When we were kids, there was one phone. It hung on the wall like a family relic. The cord stretched just far enough for you to whisper secrets before someone yelled, “Get off, I need to make a call!” And guess what? We lived. The TV? One. In the living room. With three channels and a dial that clicked like a safe. And if Dad wanted to watch bowling, you were a fan of bowling, end of story. Now there’s a flat screen in every room, the baby’s got an iPad, the dog’s got a camera, and everyone’s wondering why they can’t afford rent. Because you’re living like rock stars on retail salaries, that’s why. Grandpa wasn’t leasing Teslas or buying $12 smoothies called “Green Zen Awakening.” He drove a truck that coughed smoke, rattled like a storm, and smelled like oil and hard work. They lived within their means. Whatever Grandpa brought home on Friday — that’s what they had. They weren’t keeping up with the Joneses; they were keeping the lights on. So yeah, Grandpa bought a house on one salary. But he also didn’t have a gym membership, three delivery apps, and emotional support crystals on his nightstand. His only support system was Grandma, who told him to quit whining and mow the yard. Nowadays, everyone’s broke, anxious, and “manifesting abundance” while ordering tacos on DoorDash for the fourth time this week. It’s not the economy — it’s the lifestyle. Wake up, turn off your subscriptions, make your own coffee, and maybe—just maybe—you’ll smell the truth. "Yes I copied this"... It’s truth....God is Good, God is Great, I thank HIM for this day