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Stickied postModerator of r/tifu

Welcome to the common fuck-ups megathread. You suggested it, and we listened.


You may be wondering what a "common fuck-up" is. Normally they are topics that are non-noteworthy or unoriginal, the minor things we fuck up. You can view them in our [wiki]. While we are being lax on this rule within this thread, we want to remind everyone that every other rule still applies, which can be found on our sidebar or [wiki/rules] page.

We will be having 2 megathreads a week:

  1. Monday-Friday for normal common fuck-ups
  2. Friday-Sunday for nfsw (rule 4) common fuck-ups

wiki pages: / detailed rules page / sidebar link / list of common fuck-ups / flair/NFSW filters / rules(report reasons) / FUOTW archive / other subs /

1 comment
Posted by13 hours agoGilded1

I made a video about me having a series of bad luck moments throughout the day (I really still think I'm cursed because the bad luck doesnt stop). Surprisingly it got a huge reception and I was pretty pleased.

I then got messaged by a lot of companies giving me offers on copyrighting the video so it doesnt get mass reproduced and that if it does, I'd get compensated instead of them making money off of me and giving me nothing. I was like, "Sure that doesnt sound too bad." The problem was that because of my negligence and not knowing what I should/shouldn't be doing, I didnt realize that I was actually breaking rule #8 on r/videos where I can't get licensed for the video after it has been posted. So yes. Obviously, my post got removed because of third party licensing.


BUT not to worry. I still had my YouTube video. With a decent amount of views ~500k I still had a shot at fame. I thought I'd also make a follow-up update video for all the people who had asked if my luck had improved. So I made the follow up video. Titled it the SAME as my viral video. Noticed an editing error. Wanted to take it off and upload a new one. Deleted it. Realized that I accidently deleted THE ORIGINAL VIDEO. Now all traces of my videos are removed and I now have 20 views on each video but hey, it was a wild journey (and a terrible fuckup) which I'll never forget. I like to think that the video going viral was an addition to the curse more than a blessing considering how I ruined everything and will always regret this moment for the rest of my life.

Tl;dr: Made a viral video. Got greedy and didnt read subreddit rules and got it removed. Also removed it off of YouTube by being stupid.

edit: Since a lot of you guys asked, here's the link to the video:


FYI: it’s a long one, but worth it

This happened my senior year of high school, while living in a rural town with about 8,000 people, and to this day I still can’t believe it happened. I need to preface this with a brief description of my brother. Even though he was only 3 years older, I respected and looked up to him like a mentor. He’s calm, stoic, and would do absolutely anything for me.

Me and my good friend were hanging out late one evening, when my mom calls to let me know it’s about to storm and to be home reasonably early. I assure her I’m taking the friend home and would be home soon. I wasn’t.

Instead, we continue to drive around town and hang out for another hour or two. We decide to finally head home, but after stopping off at a rural Creek/Park to smoke a swisher. (If you know anything about rural areas, you know places like this are rampant with drugs late at night). We pull down the half mile road to get to it, when we realize an old beat-up car is parked there with no headlights. We instantly knew what they were up to and turned around and left.

The other vehicle’s lights turn on and pull out behind us. Okay no big deal, we spooked them so their leaving too. We get back to the main road and turn left towards town, and they follow. Still not weird, they probably live in town too. After a few miles I get curious about them still following me, so I decide to take backroads to get home, knowing they wouldn’t live in the same direction. I turn left onto a backroad and they follow.

That’s when we found out what was going on. The vehicle quickly sped up behind us and started swerving into both lanes behind us, speeding up next to us, slamming on their brakes next to us, speeding back up to us again, flashing their lights.

We were 15 miles from my house, and in a full on panic I didn’t think twice about heading straight there. Turn after turn after turn they followed us, same tactics, even trying to run us off the road at one point. I’m shaking as I call my brother to tell him we were about 4 miles away and what was happening. In the calmest voice I’ve ever heard he said, “It’s fine, just come on home, I’ll be outside”.

My family has always kept firearms in the house for self defense, a response from a police officer would be 20-30 minutes to my house.

As I pulled into my ~60 yard gravel driveway I see my brother sitting on the tailgate of his truck with his concealed carry handgun. I pull up and get out of the car, only to notice the car is sitting at the entrance to my driveway. Then they start to pull in. My brother, just as calmly as before says “go inside and get dad”, then he began walking to meet the car. As I’m walking into the house the car speeds up, throwing gravel, and comes down my driveway only to slam on their breaks, pulls a u-turn right next to my brother and heads back out the driveway.

I run into my parents room, I was shaking so hard I couldn’t talk, and as soon as my dad saw me, the first words he asked were “is someone here?”. All I could do was shake my head. He grabbed a handgun he keeps locked in his nightstand and heads outside as I follow.

As were coming back outside the car is pulling back into the driveway AGAIN AND MUCH FASTER. They slide into our lawn and before they can open the door my dad puts his hand on the door and pushes it back closed and points the handgun in the window. My brother soon followed and stood to the rest of the car to make sure they weren’t going to get out the other side. The following is what I heard. “I don’t know who you motherfuckers are or what the fuck you’re doing following my son to my house, but you get one chance to leave and never fucking come back”

They were tweaking so hard, that when they were confronted with the gun they tried convince my dad (who is a paramedic and was well aware how fucked up they were), that they were my friends and we’re coming to my house to hang out. He then told them that if they ever found their way to our house again he’d kill them. They left quickly after that.

It was the most intense night of my life. I fully believe if my father hadn’t pulled a weapon first they were going to get out of the car with very violent intent. I put my whole family at risk because I wanted to stay out late and smoke swishers.

TL;DR: I stayed out late and ended up being followed by cracked out psychos which almost ended up in a very violent or potentially fatal confrontation.


Not today, but a few months back I remember having a strange tingling/itching sensation on my left hand ring finger. After trying to itch it countless times and the sensation just coming back, me being the idiot I was decided to try and scratch it with a knife. Not sure why I thought this would work at all but tried anyway to no success. Instead I made a pretty deep gash in my finger. Needless to say it stopped itching however I was in a lot of pain at the time. A week or so later the cut in my finger started to become more painful than it originally was. I decided to go to the doctors to get it checked over and it was apparently heavily infected. I was prescribed with antibiotics to reduce the infection. Tried taking them as regularly as advised however no luck. It just seemed to get worse and spread. So I went back to the doctor in which they sent me to hospital to have my finger removed so that it wouldn’t spread any more into my finger. So in all I ended up losing a finger by being a bit of a retard.

TL;DR tried to scrath finger with a knife and cutting it which then got infected and spread too much so had to get finger removed.


This was several years ago but I decided I wanted to share it. It’s a very minor fuckup and slightly lame but it has ruined waterslides for me ever since. It was a rather small waterslide. It was one that required a tube. I had gone on it several times before this moment. I was sliding down as usual and I hit a sharp turn..I honestly don’t know why this time was so different. I banged my head on the side of the slide and I mean hard, I blacked out for a couple of seconds. I regained consciousness still going down and I was completely flipped over and was now backwards on my stomach. I tried to flip over, but quickly realized I was going too fast and had to ride out my situation. I bumped my nose against the bottom lip of the slide and went slamming into the water under the slides exit. I was extremely dizzy when I finally got my head out of the water. I walked out of the pool and almost passed out. I recovered after an hour. I haven’t been on a waterslide since.

TL;DR : TIFU by hitting my head and blacking out while on a waterslide

1 comment

Obligatory not only today but started 6 hours ago.

I recently moved to a new city for University. As part of our tuition students get free public transit. Today I needed to go pick up some required items for a class I have so I rode the bus there. So far no problem.

On the way back is when the trouble starts. For you see my phone was at critical (I didn't charge it before I left because I thought I would be back quickly). Also for some reason my ID wasn't working as a bus pass (which it should), but the driver lady was nice so she let me ride anyways but told me to get it fixed. Anyways I got on the bus and rod it towards my house. But here's the rub, there is a bus stop right next to my house and another probably an extra 8 minute walk away. See the bus went to the stop further away, and since I didn't feel like walking, and I hadn't explored the city, plus the lady was the same one I rode down with (somehow didn't catch my pass the first time), I figured I would stay on and get a view of the city on the bus, and wait for her to loop back. However we just kept going away from my city, I just stayed on hoping it would eventually turn around, but eventually we get to a city I've never been to, 3-4 cities away.

Now my phone's dead so google is useless, my student ID is invalid and I don't have correct change to pay for bus fare, and I can't take the light rail system because again my ID is invalid. So I figure I need to solve the battery problem first so I can figure out how to get home. So I walk until I find a store that would sell a charger cord and plug that I could use and an outlet. Eventually I find a pharmacy that does that and ask if they have a plug for a USB cord I can use to charge my phone. Instead they take my phone into the back that way it could charge faster. So after buying a soda (they were nice so I figured my patronage was the least I could do) in order to split my cash so I could pay a normal amount for bus fare.

After waiting 50 mins for it to charge to 50% so that I can use it to navigate back without it dying, I use google to find a route back. So I walk to the nearest bus stop and when I get on the driver checks my card which flags in his system, after double checking it he lets me on and tells me not to worry about it, sometimes it flags when it's a new card (though my school told me it would activate 2 weeks ago).

From there I ride to a light rail station in the next city over. Now I get on, and it should take me back to the street I originally wanted to be dropped off at.

Now my friend tells me he never gets checked when he's on the light rail, so I'm hoping it will be a smooth ride home. Not so I get on the very next stop I get checked. So naturally my card flags, but I pretend to be confused and fortunately they believe me, just warning me that I need to fix my card.

Anyways I walk home, and go to my room to finish typing this up. (On mobile so forgive me of my mistakes.)

TL;DR: Because I was too lazy to walk an extra eight minutes, I end up spending five hours working on getting home, through a combination of goodwill, deceit, and luck.


I’m a college student in Pennsylvania (USA). Earlier this spring, a few friends and I took a trip to Montreal, Canada. We chose to stay in an Airbnb that February. One night in Canada, we got snowed in and decided to order dinner to be delivered to our house.

That’s when I downloaded Ubereats. Our tacos came and everything went smoothly. They were great!

Fast forward to today. It’s morning in the late summer, and I’ve just returned to campus in Pennsylvania after my summer break. My dorm is alllll the way up a hill, far from where the restaurants are. So I decide to order some breakfast to be delivered to my house.

That’s when I open Ubereats to look for some options and got very, very excited. SO many new restaurants, much better options than I was used to in the Lehigh Valley. Did a bunch of new restaurants just open up this summer?

I find a crepe place, order, and wait. This is exciting. Breakfast is my favourite meal and a food delivery feels like Christmas every time.

An hour later, I get the text. The food is ready. And it’s arrived... at the Airbnb back in Montreal. Turns out I’ve ordered my Ubereats from a Canadian restaurant to a Canadian location.

My breakfast was in Canada, an 8 hour bus ride away from where I needed it to be.

TL;DR : I ordered breakfast to be delivered to my house in Pennsylvania, but it ended up in Montreal, Canada.


As is tradition, this happened years ago but is nonetheless a sad period of time in my life that I often think about.

I had always wanted an ant farm, and had eventually saved up the required $20 to purchase one from Hobby Lobby. Once the farm was purchased, I mailed in the little voucher thing to have the live ants mailed to me. I was pumped. My dad would not allow us to have any pets and thus I was longing to find a loophole that would allow me to have that responsibility and companionship.

It took a while, but a month or so later I was delighted to find my little tube of ants in the mail. I couldn't wait to get them into their newly-sandfilled home, but something about them wasn't right. Logic would dictate that, since none of them were moving and many of them were missing limbs and such, that they were dead on arrival. However, the instruction packet that they came with said that if they were too rowdy to just place them in the fridge for a few minutes, as the cold temperature would slow them down. Well, it was the dead of winter so obviously they were just cold and would probably be fine by morning. Into the farm they went.

By morning, as is probably obvious, they had not miraculously regained life nor limbs, and I was heartbroken. I wrote to the company explaining that they sent me a tube of dead ants and that I was really upset. They replied pretty quickly with an apology as well as the assurance that a new tube of ants would be sent as soon as possible.

Finally my new tube arrived and they were sure rowdy. No matter, I couldn't wait to get this thing started. Once I managed to pick out most of the dead pieces of ants from the farm, I attempted to pour the new ones into it. Because these were alive, they were less cooperative than the previous batch and I had some trouble getting them in, but after a few minutes I managed to get probably about half of them in there (the rest likely went in to live out their lives happily elsewhere).

Now the thing with this particular brand of ant farm is that there is a larger bag of sand to fill the farm with, a water dropper, and a smaller bag of what I had assumed must be food. It looked like sand, but was a slightly different color and texture than the actual sand, so obviously this was specialized food for ants.

Well, and this next part may shock you, it wasn't food. I don't know what the hell it was, but they wouldn't eat it. I could have literally fed them anything, because they're fucking ants, but I was stubborn that this HAD to be ant food. What the hell else could it be?

There were a few ant deaths the first few days, but I attributed this to the stress of their drastic change of environment. But then another ant would die each day, followed by a proper ant burial by the fellow ant community. This continued until only one ant remained, and before i left for work that morning I knew when I got home he would be dead, and no ants remained to bury him. So I cried. When i got home, my dad was pissed at me about something unrelated and started throwing all my belongings into trash bags and found my ant farm. He was PISSED. My dad hates all living things, ants being no exception. He smashed the ant farm onto the floor in anger, and I yelled, "Good job! Now you're gonna have ants all over your stupid house!" This immediately sent me into hysterical tears because I knew all the ants were dead.

To this day I have no idea what that bag of crumb looking shit was supposed to be, but it certainly wasn't food. I can't bring myself to get another ant farm so now I have a cat instead, the food for which is clearly labelled as "cat food".

TL;DR: I fed my ants sand instead of food and they all died.


Obligatory this did not happen today. This past Friday night, which just so happens to be mine and my girlfriend’s 8 month anniversary, my girlfriend and I were hanging out in her room laying on her bed. Keep in mind her mom and mom’s boyfriend are hanging out downstairs.

So things start to become hot and heavy and her pants manage to come off, with me laying on top of her. Hence the FU, I shift my weight on top of her, and she shifts her leg under me...causing a loud pop. I look at her knee cap and it is rotated 90 degrees around her leg. Looks awful. I panic and pop it back into place. She says “oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck” and then her eyes roll back into her head and she becomes unresponsive. Did I mention she has Vasovagal? She used to faint from pain when she was younger. I did not know that.

This is a truly terrifying sight to behold, her lips lose color, unresponsive, eyes rolled back into her head, curled up on her bed. I’ve never seen a Vasovagal episode before. I’m panicking. Sprint downstairs, tell her mom and boyfriend that her knee popped out of the socket and she’s acting strange. We all run up, she comes to about 30 seconds later breathing heavily and the color returning to her face. Extra layers of issues because her mom is ultra conservative and I completely forgot that my girlfriend’s pants weren’t on. Additional awkward conversations with the paramedics who were called when she was still out cold. I’ve got cops questioning me about domestic abuse.

We end up in the hospital till about 4 in in the morning for X-rays for the knee just to be sure. Extra layer of guilt because her mom had returned that very same day from Vegas for her birthday. Extra layer of awkwardness because her mom’s boyfriend and I follow behind the ambulance and he attempts the fatherly sex talk with me even though I’ve been dating my girlfriend longer than he’s been dating her mom.

Happy ending, she’s sore but no serious damage. Just a lot of guilt and shame, I know it’s not directly my fault but my quick thinking to put the knee back turned out to be more painful than it was coming out in the first place, causing the fainting episode. She’s a good sport, was apologizing to me the whole time for having to see her faint.

TLDR: Hooked up with my girlfriend and popped her knee out of the socket. She has Vasovagal and faints from the pain. Spend hours in the emergency room with her mom and mom’s boyfriend on our 8 month anniversary.


Obligatory this happened exactly two years ago.

My friend and I were bored out of our minds during the summer, so ending up in stupid or even dangerous situations was a common outcome of our boredom induced creativity.

At first, we decided on something pretty mundane. It was gloomy out so we didn’t want to go swimming. Let’s skateboard around our old middle school, that’s pretty innocent, right? No, not entirely. A little bit of background- our school was very old and a new air conditioning system was being put in. There were construction workers and dumpsters full of the cardboard packaging the AC units came in. At that moment in time, the entire school was vacant, construction workers or otherwise.

We were dropped off by my friends parents, and began innocently making our way around the school to a large downward stretch of pavement that was used for basketball practices. And that’s when we saw it. A gleaming neon orange ladder sat horizontally against the brick wall of the school. Nothing out of the ordinary, but just a glance at it caused my mind to snowball a awful idea together.

One thing lead to another which lead to me hold the ladder for my friend as she climbed two stories onto the roof. She then held the ladder for me from the top. We were both on the roof (flat roof) and explored. It’s was just genuine fun until the wind picked up.

The sky darkened and what seemed like pellets of rain ambushed us so suddenly. The wind’s howl was interrupted by a VERY distinct clang of metal. My back was towards the sound so I didn’t see it happen, but the look on my friends face turned my stomach sour. The ladder that was leaning against the roof had fallen down, and we were stuck.

There was panic. Lots of it as we tried to brainstorm a way out. That’s when I remembered the construction dumpster. It was on the other side of the school but easily accessible by a quick walk across the roof and an 18 foot drop.

No biggie.

The plan was for me to jump down into the dumpster and run around the school and bring the ladder back up to get my friend, but plans don’t always work out. I was shaking violently when I stood on the edge, looking down onto the sharp plastics and cardboards that filled the dumpster. I’m not a little bitch though so I jumped. I remember called for a long time then feeling the shockwave travel up my legs and spine. A distinct sting when through my right leg, but it was the one the had taken the brunt of the fall so I didn’t think much of it.

Climbed out and ran around the school. Hoisted the ladder up and got my friend down. Ezpz. We celebrated avoiding a really bad situation with a fit of giggles and laughs. My leg still stung but whatever I wasn’t really thinking about it. Within the raging fit of giggles, I felt myself getting lightheaded and my friends expression dropped. She was staring at my leg. I followed her gaze and for the first time saw a ridiculous amount of blood. My calf was ripped open from the back of my knee until about halfway down. I panicked.

I took my shirt and tied it around my leg. My friend called her mom and subsequently I ended up in the hospital with multiple layers of stitches.

Tldr: skateboarding turned into a forced roof jump turned into an unexpected hospital trip.


Not today but four days ago, actually. I work as a power lineman so I use my hands a lot throughout the day. One of my tasks is putting on thick rubber gloves and repairing live wires. I was performing this action four days ago when I heard a pop in my right wrist. It didn’t hurt at the time so I kept going. The next morning though, I could barely move it. I called in to work and went to the urgent care as my doctor didn’t have time to see me that day. When I arrived at urgent care, I received exactly the customer service one can expect from such a place when I essentially had 20 pages of forms flung at me on a clipboard and was told it would be probably about 3 hours before anyone could see me. As I sat filling out forms, I received a text from my brother who works the same job at the same company as me. He was asking if I had done work on a particular job that was poorly built and that our boss wasn’t happy about. I had indeed performed work on that job, but needed to explain what had happened. I unlocked my phone and began sending an involved text explaining in detail what had happened. It wasn’t until I closed my lips around the pen and swallowed the saliva that was about to drip from my mouth that I realized, with utter horror and disgust, that I had absent-mindedly stuck the urgent care pen in my mouth when I went to respond to my brother and then slurped up whatever virus laden filth was lurking about on it. I yanked it from my mouth and hurried out the door, spitting profusely and repeatedly and then gagging a little in front of everyone in the waiting room. I waited the requisite 3 hours and was told to ice my wrist and it would be fine. The next day, yesterday, as I was leaving work, it hit me. My skin suddenly went into spastic chills every time something rubbed against it. I began sweating as I shook like I was freezing. I came home and juiced every fruit and vegetable I could find hoping it would stay down long enough to give me a fighting chance. It didn’t. It’s been the worst 24 hours I can remember. What makes it so much worse is knowing WHERE I got it and thinking about the disgusting amalgam of putrid residue that was lurking on that pen.

TL;DR: Went to urgent care to get my wrist checked out. Absent-mindedly put urgent care pen in my mouth and became violently ill.


To preface I am a legal medical marijuana cardholder. I use marijuana for pain and to help me sleep. I'm 30 years old and have smoked marijuana daily for well over 10 years.

I had to get my wisdom teeth removed so I've been unable to smoke for 8 days. I'm normally a heavy daily smoker. I technically only went 2 days without any THC in my system because I did use some marijuana infused syrup for a few days to help relax and it worked well.

I've been really babying my mouth during this recovery because I don't want any setbacks. My oral surgeon told me I don't need to worry about a dry socket any longer but I still didn't want to have any suction that could possibly dislodge the blood clot so I made a gravity bong.

My first mistake was using a large Smart Water bottle. My second mistake was packing two slides full of Turbo Lemon Cake which is a very strong racy sativa. I had been anxious and irritable all day. A week of not being able to eat as much as I'd like and the stress of recovery has really taken a toll on my already weak body. I was looking forward to being able to smoke again and knew it was a sativa but I had some things around the house I needed to get done and thought that this would work out well. I didn't think I could clear the entire bottle but I did and i immediately said that is the biggest hit I've taken in years.

I'm typically just a pipe and oil pen smoker. I never dab or smoke bongs anymore. It hit me hard and fast. I could feel it in my face, my ears, my eyes. My vision was blurred. I could see but not focus on anything. I began pacing around the house before I tried to relax and focus this energy on something positive and began picking up things in my bedroom.

Things kind of get hazy from that point on. I remember walking around feeling like I wanted this to stop but I couldn't. I began frantically looking for my father to tell him something was not right. I focused on my kitchen counter and took a deep breath and for a split second felt like I was coming out of something and I was going to be ok. But that feeling slowly faded. I put my hand on my chest and felt a heartbeat that I did not think was possible. There was almost no pause between each heartbeat. It was racing uncontrollably. I needed this to stop. I needed help. I yelled out for my dad who was on the other end of the house. I told him I didn't like it anymore and I wanted it to stop. He lead me to my bedroom and told me it was just pot and I was going to be fine.

But i knew something was wrong. I had been too high before this was something different. I seriously felt like I was dieing. Something must had popped my brain. I felt outside of my self. I felt detached. My hands were trembling. I could look up things on my phone I could maintain a conversation but I knew something was wrong. All I could think about is the position I put my father in and all the trouble he's going to have now that his Son died from some reaction to marijuana. I kept apologizing and telling him I loved him. There was no way this was just from marijuana.

This went on for about 30 minutes until I was able to slowly come out of it and I immediately felt exhausted. My legs and arms weak, my stomach empty and my mind tired. What a fool I am. I began researching panic attacks and sure enough I had all the symptoms but the thing that got me was the detachment the feeling of being outside my self and feeling like I was going to die. I'm glad I came out of it but my heart goes out to those who have panic attacks without anything triggering it. Safe to say I won't be smoking another gravity bong or any sativa any time soon. If I smoke again it's going to be an indica or cbd strain and it will be one small hit and wait 20 minutes or so.

There's a lot at play here. I hadn't smoked in 8 days. I was stressed out, weak and irritable. Coupled with the uncomfortable feeling of too much marijuana too quickly somehow triggered my body to have a panic attack.

I'm a big advocate of marijuana. After smoking every day for years you feel like you are strong and this herb can't hurt you but man was I wrong. What an experience. It's now the next day and i'm still very much rattled. I hope this won't ever happen again. But if it does and it's caused by smoking marijuana I will without a doubt stop smoking. This has been a real eye opener. If you read all of this thank you.

TLDR: Smoked 2 massive gravity bongs full of a potent Sativa strain after not smoking for 8 days. Triggered a full blown panic attack that lasted 30 minutes. Literally felt like I was going to die and almost went to the E.R.


So this actually happened in June. I should note, I’m a long time lurker and this is my first time posting (also on mobile if formatting is terrible)

It was your regular average day, my friend who is pregnant had plans to come over and do this sneak peek gender reveal test. For those who don’t know what that is, it’s a home kit test where you draw blood of said pregnant person and collect it in a tiny plastic tube, seems simple enough. You only need a few drops and you package it back up and send it back to await your email results if baby is a boy or a girl.

I cleaned the kitchen table in preparation for her arrival. Once she arrived we started taking out the packaging and reading the instructions. In this paper it’s said to drink 1 glass of water 20 minutes before drawing the blood out. Here’s my first mistake, not making sure she drank all of the water. Instead we were getting her hands clean and I was hyping her up about how awesome this is gonna be and how great it will be once we know the gender. My second mistake was forgetting how afraid of needles she is. Mind you, this lancet that you poke your finger with is basically the same when you get your glucose tested at a hospital or if you’re a diabetic or know of one that does regular testing. She’s once been poked with a lancet set on the highest setting and I was telling her this will be nothing like that. Reassuring her, as I am good at that.

As the process goes, we follow step by step, get her to shake her arm out and make a fist 10 or so times then we tie off at her wrist and I poke her finger tip where the paper suggests. Once this is done I start to basically jack off her finger from the second knuckle down to her finger tip. As I’m vigorously squeezing LITTLE TO NO BLOOD IS COMING OUT so I squeeze and milk that finger for all it’s got, all while not paying attention to my friend but making sure the blood is landing in the tube. She’s trying to lay down, telling me she doesn’t feel good and I’m like “we are almost there! We are almost done” once I’m on the last few drops thinking this process is taking longer than it should, SHE TRIES TO STAND UP in a delirious state. I take my eyes off the tube to look up at her and she’s as white as a ghost, she’s completely pale. Her lips are white and she’s got zero colour in her face. I’m holding on to her literally by her finger and she’s staggering and about to fall over going deadass limp nearly fainting.

I pull her back to her chair by her finger, sit her ass down and squeeze the last drop of blood. I get everything packed, sealed and ready to ship and then I take a look at how she’s doing and she’s pretty much asleep, breathing heavy, shaking and needing some serious sugar before getting colour to her face. So we are sitting there in complete shock together with what just happened and now it’s all I bring up because I can never forget how dead she actually looked once everything was done.

Turns out, as we read the paper again the water gig that I didn’t make sure about before doing the test is to help the blood flow. I heard her say after it was too late “oh, I forgot to drink all the water. That should be too important in the process though, should it?” And I stupidly said “probably not” while reading the other steps to this sneak peek process.

TL;DR I stupidly didn’t enforce the given instructions. Therefore, I put my pregnant best friend into shock while jerking her finger for blood. But on the bright side, test revealed she’s having a girl and ultrasound to confirm is on Tuesday! Hopefully this experience was worth it.


This actually happened today.

Over the last month or so, my kitchen sink has had this whiff of a really bad odor coming from it any time I ran the water. There’s a disposal in the sink, so I figured some food had gotten stuck in it and just needed to be flushed down.

No need for a plumber for this one! One handy google, and I was staring at a list of seven simple ways to deodorize your undersink disposal.

Baking soda!...I’m a single guy who doesn’t eat a lot of sweets. There’s no baking soda in the house.

Vinegar, then? Nope. Apparently I don’t eat a lot of vinegar either.

Lemons were next, but I’m sure you can guess how successful that was.

But then, there it was! The answer to the rotting disposal: ice! Cheap, readily available, and oh so plentiful. The DIY site did mention that ice had the downside of not leaving behind a citrusy odor. But I figured I could deal with that.

Grabbed a 16-oz bottle, filled it with ice, and poured it into the disposal as it turned on. The first batch went well, so onward!

By the third batch, the drain gurgled a little bit, but I persevered. I was going to be rid of this smell once and for all.

Until my feet were wet. And there was foul-smelling black water literally pouring out of the undersink cabinet. Soaking everything, including the electrical wiring to the disposal itself.

Long story short, a plumber was needed. And because it was in the wee hours of Sunday morning, that plumber charged me out of my ass-crack.

That’s how I also learned that the disposal wasn’t properly grounded. “I’m surprised,” he said as he left, “that the thing didn’t catch on fire. It should have.”

TL;DR: tried to grind some ice through the kitchen disposal, cracked it’s casing, and let water run all over poorly-grounded electrical wiring.


Obligatory this happened a few years ago.

When I was 15 years of age, I wasn’t the “smartest” kid on the block. Don’t get me wrong, I had about straight Bs in school and knew what I was doing, but common sense was never my forte.

So our school is in the deep boonies of America. Most everyone was a redneck, hillbilly, beatneck, whatever you want to call them. If you asked what they wanted to do when they were older, pretty much every single one of them would’ve answered with “I wanna work on cars”. That’s how redneck. I feel like this context is important because in other areas, this may have been dealt with more severely.

Our school was hosting an annual corn hole tournament for the high schoolers, and me and my brother entered together. We were quite the formidable team, but didn’t enter the year before, we had a real shot at winning.

So I had an inner circle of friends, or rather, I was one of the members of the circle, and we all knew each other fairly well. Just a year prior I got an Instagram account, my account was public (it’s not anymore), and all my friends followed me.

The incident happened in March, a couple weeks before the senior prank was supposed to happen, and 3 days before the cornhole tournament . Every year the prank was the same (I’m not kidding, it was exactly the same), a bomb threat. I was on Instagram and decided to make a joke, by posting some “le danke” memes. One of the them was a picture of a baby chick holding a gun, with my caption “#myname will rise” (I posted the chick picture last) I did this a few times with a couple different pictures for a couple days and all was right with the world.

The day after I posted the chick picture, I arrived at school and the sheriff’s department was present around the school. I figured it was probably in anticipation of the senior prank, and nothing seemed out of the ordinary until 3rd period when a voice came over the loudspeaker: “Will firstname lastname please come to the 1st floor office please?”

Now I’m high school this is catalyst for nerves and paranoia. I grabbed my bag and walked down to the office, and was pulled into the principal’s office the moment I walked into the office lobby. Our principal sat me down and didn’t speak for what felt like an entire minute. He finally looked at me and asked: “So how was your weekend?” The way he talked had such an ominous tone, that I simply replied: “Okay.”

He typed a couple things into his laptop, and said: “Mr lastname we take security here very, very seriously, and last night, it was brought to my attention that you made some very disturbing and suggestive comments online.”

Needless to say, I was very confused.

He went on to explain that a student contacted him to express concerns that I had made a school shooting threat on instagram. I was still, VERY confused. Until he spun his laptop around and showed me the Instagram post. I seriously thought he was joking. I explained the post, and believe it or not, he believed me. He said: “I completely understand the post was made in a joking manner, and you couldn’t believe it would be taken the way it was, but unfortunately it was taken in that manner, and I apologize to inform you, in standing with our school’s code of conduct, I have to suspend you today, and your parents will be contacted.”

Well, my parents were contacted, were also upset with me (what the fuck mom and dad?) and I was suspended for 3 days, and was forced to miss the cornhole tournament and my brother got 28th place (out of a 32 team tournament) with my replacement, and now my school record will forever be tarnished with me making a “school shooting threat” and getting suspended.

TL;DR made a joke post on Instagram, got suspended for making a school shooting threat, and got kicked out of the cornhole tournament.

Edit: here is a screenshot of my original post:


Obligatory “this happened earlier this week”. My gf is tiny and petite, all of 5’, 90lbs. She loves to eat, and as an amateur chef I love making all sorts of food for her to try.

Early in our relationship she told me that she will eat anything, but her body doesn’t always agree with what she puts in it but that I should feel free to make whatever. I didn’t think much of it, my thought was “welp if she doesn’t mind getting diarrhea or whatever why should I care?” so I didn’t ask for a list of prohibited ingredients.

We have an early date night since we both finished work early, and I’m pumped. Dry aged filet mignon w/seared foie gras, and a lovely morel sauce. It. Came. Out. Perfect. I was proud as hell and she loved it.

Skip to 4 hours later and we are driving to my parents house to pick up a few things (they live local). Uneventful ride, bluetooth isn’t connecting so we drive in silence. Windows are up and the AC is on but my allergies are still a bitch so I rip off a string of sneezes so long that I’m out of breath and take a deep gasping breath at the end—bad move. She had farted. Silently. And this was no ordinary fart.

I had filled my ENTIRE lung capacity with fetid putrescence that had been roiling in her lower intestine for hours. How a malodorous reek of this force and caliber came from her tiny body I will never understand. In the instant this bog-stench made its way from my lungs into my nose and mouth, I realized it was more than stink. I was tasting it. I could feel it in my mouth and nose. Particles of ass, decay, and death were dancing in my skull. Then I projectile vomited. Everywhere.

She panics and freaks out, starts yelling at me and punching me, hollering about how “I TOLD you I get bad gas from foie gras!”(she didnt) all the while I’m trying to focus and grasp the now-slippery chunk-spattered steering wheel to pull over, frantically scrabbling at the door to press the buttons to bring the window down, and all the while trying to talk myself down from puking even more.

I started laughing my ass off, which calmed her down and stopped the flailing. I reminded her that you aren’t living life unless you’re making stories worth telling, and we raced home so I could shower and clean the car. All is well at this point, but foie gras is off the list.

TLDR: fed gf foie gras, her farts made me puke all over the car and its my fault.


I am just now catching my breathe from the whirlwind of this mass tifu that has me nauseous with guilt.

I'll try to keep this short, Toby (the victim) is on his way home now & I have a lot of making up to do.

My husband calls me Leroy Jenkins. I'm scatter brained, often moving/speaking faster than my brain can keep up. "Slow down Leroy" is a common phrase around here & it's never proven more necessary.

We had a busy day & were getting ready for bed. Had the 5yr old in the bath & starting the bedtime routine. I let our old man labrador out the backdoor. Our sliding door is broken (new one comes in in 3wks), it sticks & doesn't close all the way unless you slam it. Yea....I can feel the vomit coming up typing it, see where this going? When he came back in he whipped back around to me looking for his treat, & I slammed the door on the very tip of his tail. He yelped & ran off I screamed as I looked down to see a sizable chunk of fur.

Now husband is an EMT, he's always calm, cool & collected. I panic over shit not worth panicking over & this was panic worthy. Poor Toby ran & laid down in every corner of the house, fighting my husband trying to bandage it so we could get him to a vet. There was blood everywhere. Husband was shaking, horribly. Freaking out. Just saying, "Fuck. Ohhh fuck babe. Oh my God." in different combinations.

In the meantime I try to get the kid out of the bath, dressed & in the car to go the emergency vet. Toby's being a wiggle worm, husband can't contain him alone, so he keeps yelling for me. Kid starts freaking out she can't see Toby or the blood, crying, refusing to leave the bathroom.

Meanwhile the hallway outside the bathroom is splatter painted with blood from the notorious, long wagging tail of a labrador. The carpets. The walls. Everywhere. I'm having a panic attack. I'm such an asshole. My poor fucking dog.

After ransacking the house for medical supplies & calming my kiddo, husband finally gets Toby ready & heads to the vet, leaving me to coax the kid out of the bathroom.

30min later the hallway no longer looks like a murder scene & the kid emerges. Husband calls. Toby is ok. Didn't lose any bone (I honest to God thought I chopped his tail off), but they did have to cauterize the tip of his tail, wrap it & put him in a cone.

I feel awful. Beyond awful. My kid is still traumatized. Even after long conversations she was worried the vet couldn't "fix him" but was too afraid to see him when he got home. I have never fucked up more than this.

TL;DR Shut my lab's tail in the door, a lot of blood was splattered throughout the house trying to wrangle/bandage him. Entire family panicked & traumatized my 5yr old


So I've been working a lot of hours at work lately because of a large project we are working on. My wife's birthday was coming up and I decided to buy her some lingerie.

I bought her some amazing looking lingerie, including a nice lacy bra I thought she would love. So her birthday came around and I was pretty excited until she opened the bra and said 'what the heck, this isn't my bra size?'

Instead of being smart and saying oh gee, I don't know how that happened...I felt like I was in a fog from working so much and just wasn't thinking straight...and I stupidly responded 'oh crap, that's [insert my ex's name here] bra size'.

Needless to say, she has not talked to me since.

TL;DR: Been in a fog from working so much and bought my wife a bra in my ex's size. She hasn't spoken to me since.


Okay before I start off, I want to start by saying the obligatory "this did not happen today."

Two friends of mine proposed to me to go to The Late Late Show With James Corden together a couple of weeks ago. The tickets to the show are free, so I thought why not as I've always been interested in how things go behind the scenes and I watch the show sometimes. So after I accepted the invitation, my friends requested the tickets and I just went on with whatever I was doing. A couple of days later one of the two message me saying that "the tickets for the show are for tonight, get ready." So that evening I go pick up my friends with my car, and we drive to the show. I was busy with a lot of other things that week, so I didn't bother to ask questions like who's coming to the show, what does the plan look like, etc. I just went to pick them up the evening of the show and went there.

We get to the building, and we park the car. We head to the entrance, stand in line to show our tickets and go through a security check before we enter the main building (the place surrounding the set). We were requested to arrive 30 minutes early, but we were two whole hours earlier because my friend misread the tickets (that's another boring story of how he did that). So we sit down in the waiting room, get some food, drinks, and popcorn to eat in the meantime and play on our phones. About 90 minutes before the show begins I go to the bathroom, well, that was the plan. Here's where I massively fucked up. I went down some hallways searching for the bathroom but couldn't find it. After walking through halls for minutes, I went into one more dark and obscure hallway. After following it, I came into a massive dark space with hex LEDs (search images of it on Google) all shining over. There was one particular dark and pitch black space where a lot of LED beams where pointed at. I still had my popcorn in my hand and thought of something foolish: what would happen if I throw a handful of popcorns at that black space where a lot of LED beams where pointed at. What kind of lighting effects would that create? So I grab a handful of popcorn and throw it at the wall there.

Well, guess fucking what. The popcorn keeps hanging in "the wall." You know why? Because it wasn't a wall, it kept hanging there because it was someone's hair the popcorn got into. It was Keanu fucking Reeves hair. He turned around and looked puzzled at me. I fucking dropped all of my popcorn on the ground when I saw the hex LEDs shine in his face. As soon as I dropped the popcorn light technicians run towards me and two big security guards. They grab me by my arms, look at me like "the fuck you doing mate" and drag me out. As they dragged me out, Keanu kept looking like "what did just happen." When I was nearly out of that space, he screamed "thanks for the free popcorn I guess". Long story short: I wasn't allowed to watch the show, so weren't my friends and I had to pay a fee because I violated their terms otherwise a lot of repercursions would follow. Both of my friends hate me now.

TL;DR threw popcorn at what I thought was a black space, it was actually Keanu Reeves turned around. Got escorted out of The Late Late Show With James Corden and had to pay a fee and my friends were pissed at me.

Edit: by the way, like I said in the comments I typed this FU quickly on my phone so I forgot to add one detail. Of course I was planning to pick up the popcorn after I threw it. I just wanted to see what kind of light effects it'd create.

Edit2: a grammar mistake


The other day I was in the loft clearing it up, and i found a box of my ex's belongings. She moved out 3 years ago now, and curiosity got the better of me, and I had a look. There was tge usual junk a woman collects, makeup she used once and didn't like, a psp, daily diaries going back to 2007, when we started dating, photos of our times together and holiday's, which helped heat the house for an hour or 2 and an unopened box of a very expensive unused epilator. This epilator still had the receipt attached to it, £120!!! And came with various attachments for different parts of the body. I was curious as to its effectiveness so read the instructions abd it said to help lesson the pain abd discomfort to take a warm bath before hand, to open the follicles a bit. Which I did. After the bath, I thought I'd start with some less hairy parts, ie my fingers, wasn't to painful. The worst part was the rotating drum scrapping my skin, so I moved on to my toes, this was bad, the pain was kinda intense, but over quickly, as there wasn't much hair on them, then I moved up my foot, then on to my shin and calf. My God I it felt terrible, and I wondered why women went through this pain. But my leg has never looked so nice. Now with it being summer I had to go again on the other leg, but needed some Dutch courage, so downed a few shots of rum. This helped no end and built my courage up, rather stupidly I must add, to do a bit of "manscaping". I've always tried to keep things neat and not look like a 70's pornstar. But it consists of a dedicated electric hair clipper set, so it's never super smooth, kinda like a 4-5 stubble growth. I started at the side of my nuts, and I shit you not I cried, like a baby at the pain this brought on and it only got worse the closer to the shaft I got. Also with it having a lot more hair, it kept snagging and struggled to effectively pull the hairs out fast, so the pain was unbearable. after about 5 minutes I had to tap out abd have a smoke break, and try to collect myself and wonder why I was so damn stupid. But having one side abd half a smooth shaft I HAD to finish the job. Cue downing nearly half a bottle of rum. This didn't help at all, as it really impaired my co-ordination. So at the end things weren't quite symmetrical. And being quite ocd about symmetry I had to fix this. Cue another 20 mins of neatening it up. This left only the underside of my bits, below the nuts between the legs, a bit I rarely, if ever trim, so the hair was long, big mistake. With the hair being longer hair not underneath the epilator was getting ripped out, so hair from 2 different areas were being ripped out at the same time. It was at this time I lost of keeping the nut skin taught and flat but still had the epilator pressed on tge skin, the bastard thing saw it chance ans grabbed hold of the loose skin and jerked up and pinched practically moat my nut sack. I've never screamed like a little girl until this exact moment. The pain was like putting a hot coal right on the little baby maker and pushing it down hard. I lay whimpering on my bedroom floor, rolling around like Ronaldo trying to cheat a penalty, holding my bleeding crown jewels for a good 5 minutes before finally managing to get up and hobbling to the shower to wash away my tears and blood soaked nuts. But on a more positive note, a few days of healing, my toes, legs and man parts look and feels SOOOO smooth. Tomorrow night after my bath, it's time to do the butt crack. And then wonder if I'll be able to do my back solo.

TL;DR found an epilator in my ex's box of stuff in the loft, nearly destroyed my baby making abilty and cried like a baby.


TIFU by macing myself in the face.

Doesn’t really matter but it happened last week.

I'm hungry so I go to the kitchen and put a bagel in the oven to broil it. I now have six minutes to kill so I decide to clean up a little while I wait. I wander out of the kitchen and start to tidy up when I come across a small, harmless looking pink tube/vile.

"What's this I think? A lighter?"

I pop off its little pink lid and place my finger on the button to depress it.

"Maybe its a cool torch lighter... awesome."

At this exact moment it occurs to me, "Wait, is this the mace Hannah left here before her trip?"


The message to press the button has already been sent from my brain to my pointer finger.

Suddenly, an orange spray ricochets off my hand and forefinger into a mist that just slightly wafts into my face.

...Nothing happens. I'm fine. No reaction.

"This shit must be old or something and has lost its potency."

Cut too:

Absolute hysteria and panic in the kitchen. I'm trying to gulp down water. Every breath I take is like stoking a forest fire in my throat and nose. I can barely breathe as I go into a sneezing fit(no wonder they call it pepper spray). I'm gagging and dry heaving.

That cute little unsuspecting vile releases an orange venom that could bring any perp to his knees.

Tears roll down my face and I grab my shirt and frantically stretch it up to my eyes to wipe away the constant flow of tears.

I continue to gulp down water while I sneeze under the false pretense that the worst is over.


Little do I know the orange venom had splattered on my shirt and was patiently waiting for this t-shirt blunder.

My left eye ignites into a fiery rage that puts me into compete panic. My terror is compounded when I realize my face isn't the only thing on fire.


It has ignited in the oven.

I get that bitch out with only one eye still functioning. The other is closed and scorching. My burning throat, nose, eye and bagel are all related; though distant, they are burning cousins in my mace fiasco.

Once all this is over I realize I am most upset that I burned my bagel. My last one.

TL;DR Cousin left mace in may apartment. Thought it was a lighter. Got on my face. Burned my last bagel.

1 comment

So this happened a few months ago. Like everyone, I said I will go to the gym from tomorrow. A friend invited me to a party and I cancelled it saying I will eat healthy and decided to go on a hike to the mountain. So i climb the mountain chill there for an hour or so and then decide to head back as it was getting dark. Now comes the interesting part so while going down i try to walk faster and now I am running and now I am running faster and I am out of control ,I know its the end, the speed increases and bam foot twists i go flying and land on the ground , foot is broken blood on face and hands I lie there in the same position on the ground for some time then I look up and I see a big stone like 25-30 cm away ,had i been a bit more faster or my foot twisted a bit later I would have been gone. Well, so I couldn't go to the gym the next day. Recovery took around 2 months. now that I think of it I should have gone to the party instead :P .

TL;DR Went to hike on the mountain ,ran downhill ,got out of control and broke a foot and was inches away from hitting a big stone and death.

1 comment

This happened today.

My birth name is nathan. I have been going by nate my whole life.

I purchased a ticket to japan on Google Flights via Priceline. I was really excited because I have never left the country before. Going to go be a tourist. The fatal error - I used nate when filling out my info.

Arrive at the airport early to get my ticket, the name on my ticket does not match my passport. Okay, no worries, I had about 2.5 hours before the flight takes off.

I wait on hold with Priceline for a travel specialist or something for 2 hours watching them close down the ticket desk. Missed my flight.

Just gonna go do something else / time and money dont really work out right now, but deffinitely will try again in the future!

Also, after finally getting ahold of a person, I was able to get a refund minus a $200 fee.

TLDR: used the wrong name on a flight. In an attempt to correct error via customer service, missed my flight because of high wait times.


This happened today, I've only been stung once before when I was like 10.

I got an overgrown allotment in March, cleared most of it but with all the hot dry weather here (south east UK) I've been too busy watering to do anything else. We finally have had some rain so I set about chopping down the last patch of weeds.

The area was roughly twelve square meters and consisted of three giant overgrown apple trees, and an 8ft understory of nettles, brambles, thistles, and giant hogweed. Why I decided to tackle this with shears in shorts and a light t-shirt is beyond me.

So I was about half way hacking down the top growth when I stumbled upon a medium sized burrow. There are wild rabbits which will eat most things and dig out the rest, so I started stomping it to block the entrance and move the rabbits on.

So there I was: feeling glorious, triumphing over my enemies, when I noticed a pinprick on my arm. It took a few moments for the hot pain to grow enough to warrant a glance, but when I did terrified instinct took over. The were several squirming wasps protruding from my skin, dozens stuck to my shirt and possibly a hundred odd swarming up from the burrow.

I'm not really scared of much, or have many phobias, but I cannot stand wasps. In the same way many people cannot tolerate spiders. So I yelp and husain bolt out of there. During that moment of realization my brain decides the best exit is the shortest route to the path; which happened to be through the weeds. Nettles I don't mind, it was the brambles that got me. I sprinted out to my car for cover then to inspect my wounds.

Turns out wasp stings aren't really that bad, but pulling out embedded thorns from your legs definitely is. Reflexes are a funny thing.

TLDR: Thought I was stomping a wild rabbit burrow but turns out it was a wasp nest. Got stung five times, and during my attempt to flee stumbled through a patch of nettles and brambles.


Me and my friends were hanging out at this mid sized restaurant for dinner. It was late in the evening and the restaurant was fully packed with close to 75 people.

So this friend had a pepper spray in her bag, unused for years. She was playing with the spray threatening that she would spray on our face and accidently sprayed a very little amount of pepper spray on our table and we all started coughing. We thought it's just us and the irritation would fade away in a few minutes. It spread to the next table. All right, it's just our next table and I thought we could apologize to them. It didnt stop there, the damn pepper spread to next, next and the next tables. To our horror there were twenty people coughing vigorously without a clue.

My friend was the one extremely affected and had puked already. People started getting scared on all the coughing and puking, and none apart from us knew it was just a pepper spray. The friend who puked looked at AC vent for some reason and I heard a yell from a table "GET OUT NOW! SOMETHING IS LEAKING FROM THE VENT'. Next thing you see , everyone running down the stairs to the parking lot thinking it was some gas leak. Too much drama already with the restaurant being shut and waiters running around. I was scared to explain that it was a proper spray so we played along , left the restaurant and flew the area.

TL;DR : Accidently pepper sprayed my table. Eventually spread to next tables , people coughing and assuming it to be a gas leak thereby closing the restaurant.


Update: Repairman called. Components are corroded beyond repair. Essential information is backed up. Still, a costly mistake for something preventable in hindsight.

Happened a few days ago, but still applies.

Taking a rigorous course over the summer has brought me to pulling an all nighter or two over the past few months.

Most recently, I've been studying for a midterm exam and staying up with the help of Monster energy drinks. The local supermarket had a sale of 2 of the large cans with the screw cap, for $5.

I decide to take it with me in my messenger bag to class to drink and stay awake long enough to take the exam.

Took the exam, aced it. The next exam is our final next week. I put my laptop and drink back in my messenger bag, and made my way back to my car.

On the walk back, my leg began to feel funny. Weird. Whatever. Keep walking. But it began feeling more odd. I put my hand on my leg, and it's wet

Two seconds in, and my brain finally puts 2 and 2 together. The cap I thought I sealed all the way, was not sealed all the way. It hasn't been sealing all the way securely enough to take it in my bag, and now the liquids have poured all over the bag that it's dripping from the bottom of the bag.

I pull all the contents out, and the hinge section of my Ultrabook is wet. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Am I fucked? Maybe it'll dry out. Yes. Let's uhm, let's see if it'll dry out.

The next day, after letting it dry out, I try to turn it on. Power button works. Wait for the BIOS screen... nothing. Oh shit. Oh nonononono. This can't be happening, not a weekend before finals. Nonono.

I've taken it to my local repair shop to see if anything can be done. Worst case scenario I now have an expensive brick and have to get a new computer. Best scenario, it can be fixed a week from now, after finals.

I'm borrowing my mother's computer in the meantime to access online content, but it's slow as shit, and it doesn't look good for my laptop. I know what not to do from this point forward.

tl;dr: I relied on Monster energy's screw cap to be secure enough to take with me in my messenger bag, where I also carry my Ultrabook. It wasn't secure enough, and now my damaged laptop is gone for at least a week (or forever), a weekend before finals. Lesson learned: don't rely on the Monster energy drink screw-on caps to be secure enough to carry along with your valuables.

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