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05-26-2007 #1
- Join Date
- May 2007
- Location
- Omaha Nebraska (greatestplaceonearth?)
- Posts
- 279
No more fighting, how about hugs?
Today I was in a restaraunt with friends for a celebratory semester-end-lunch.
A surly older fellow with his baby's momma was sitting in the booth adjacent to us. Suddenly a comment about Rush Limbaugh comes out of my mouth. The man next to the table gives us all an angry stare. Interested in causing a little mischief I tear into Pat Robertson and Jerry Falwell. He gets up from his booth with his girlfriend and walks over to my table. He inflates his chest like a robin and asks me how a heathen like myself would like my ass kicked.
I get up from the table and hug him, and the conflict immediately diffuses. He turns crimson, laughs, and sits back down.
Which led me to think.
Why not solve every conflict with a hug?
Cab driver hits you?
hug him.
Terrorist threatens to blow up the bus you're on?
hug him.
Recieve a flame on this forum?
Send a virtual hug.
Discuss:
How did your last confrontation end?
it's a personal statement about the band itself. [raises axe above head] Hey Paul!
[he bashes Allen in the head with an axe, and blood splatters over him]
Bateman: TRY GETTING A RESERVATION AT DORSIA NOW YOU FUCKING STUPID BASTARD!
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05-26-2007 #2
- Join Date
- Dec 2004
- Location
- Out there somewhere...
- Posts
- 2,810
Re: No more fighting, how about hugs?
Discuss:
How did your last confrontation end?
WISH YOU HAD ACCEPTED THE HUG NOW DON'T YOU, ASSWIPE?!?!
Just kidding. I'm a lover not a fighter. I probably bored the last guy to to death.
Navin R. Johnson: You mean I'm going to stay this color??
Mother: I'd love you if you were the color of a baboon's ass.
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05-26-2007 #3
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05-26-2007 #4
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05-26-2007 #5
- Join Date
- Oct 2006
- Location
- nyc. dancing. living. smiling. laughing. again.
- Posts
- 2,455
Originally Posted by Jennifer_English
personally, i prefer hugging over shaking hands. it's much nicer...and less germs (ulterior motive).
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05-26-2007 #6
A neat enough idea, so here goes. Today, I ordered Chicken Francaise for dinner from my favorite local restaurant. I order from there all the time. They no my name, my order, and everything else the moment they hear my voice on the phone I’m such a regular. The problem is that lately they have used new delivery personnel – personnel I don’t think much of.
Why don’t I like them you may ask? Because the last couple of times they showed up at my door they’ve claimed not to have any change whatsoever, which of course results in their getting larger than warranted tips because I only have twenty dollar bills from an ATM. They know I’m not going to want to wait forty fucking minutes for them to get change and come back with my food.
Today, rather than tip him, I opted for something different. I invited the delivery person in while I went to get proper change, at which point he looked at me suspiciously –
not much of a leap given the look in my eyes – and politely declined. To make a long story short, I made him stand at the door while I counted out the exact payment (no tip included) in nickels, dimes, and pennies. That’s right, $24.50 in nickels, dimes, and pennies from my change stash. I did it very slowly, allowing the whole process to take quite a long time (easily twenty minutes). I could see he was furious, but didn’t dare say a word because we both new what he was trying to do. Given that I had already made up my mind to throw him down the stairs in the event of any confrontation, he made the right choice.
Last time I order from there.
-Quinn
Life is essentially one long Benny Hill skit punctuated by the occasional Anne Frank moment.
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05-26-2007 #7