Because he has a habit of biting my toes (only my toes, by the way, my wife gets to have her toes, only I am not allowed to have toes), I don't let my cat in the bedroom when I'm going to bed.

Naturally, this means he very much wants to be in the bedroom.

Now, for a tiny 8-pound cat, he has a hell of a motor, and on top of that, I have 100+ year-old hardwood floors from trees denser than what's around today. Stuff's basically concrete at this point.

Every once in a while, I will scan the room, not see the cat, and close the door. If he is hiding somewhere in the room, he will at this point start purring extremely loudly completely giving away whatever he's hidden under/behind. The floors amplify it, but I think it's funny if he forever thinks we can't hear purring, so I always let him get away with it (until he bites my toes five minutes later).

This happened a few years and there’s never been anyone I could share it with but every time it re-enters my mind, I feel the need to tell someone, cause it was so ridiculous.

Two things for context.

Our “shower” is just the bathtub with a connected showerhead, which can not be attached anywhere on the wall and must be held in the person’s hand while showering which makes it very annoying.

My father is the stereotypical Dad, who leaves behind a biohazard, that you would be very unlucky to find if he forgot to flush.

Now, a few years ago, around 2021, I was sneaking downstairs to bring down some dishes that I had forgotten in my room for a while. I am a very quiet walker. Steps, opening/closing doors, and putting things down, I do almost silently. So it made sense that my father and brother, didn’t hear me and talked openly/loudly.

My brother was asking my father for advice, because what he’d done was “very big” and he was worried if it would clog. I was glad he wasn’t ashamed to bring up normal human things, but since it was none of my business, I didn’t want to listed to that conversation.

It was my fathers response/advice that cracks me up.

He suggested turning the shower head to the setting that is basically a pressure washer, which no reasonable person would ever use to clean themselves with. He told my brother to aim it inside the toilette to, and I quote, “destroy it”.

We are german, so the word he used was “Zerstören” and just by the tone of his voice, I knew he did his usual gesture of a determined raised fist, like he was ordering an air strike. I had to control myself so hard not to make noise and stay quiet and sneak away. He was so serious about it and I had a laugh back in my room. I was sure I would forget about it and I always do until “reminders” pop up.

Now every once in a while I will hear the shower run and a minute later my dad steps out completely dressed and dry, and in my head I’m like: “I know what just happened and I’m not going in there for the next hour.”

I’ve always checked the shower setting before washing my hair because I don’t need to pressure spray a hole in head and I’ve always wondered who uses it? And now I have my answer and every time it’s on that setting I know who used it last and why.

I know it’s incredibly dumb and immature, and I just don’t want keep it in anymore.

When my parents bought their first home, the real estate agent pointed out the sheer number of family photos in the staging. She even gave a short background for everyone in it, how the mom owned her own salon (my mother was in beauty school), how the dad worked designing affordable housing and needed to move closer (by sheer coincidence, my father also worked architecture) and the names of the kids.

But weirdly, when we bought the house, the photos had all been left behind. Dozens of them. Most on the walls, and some in a box left in the kitchen. Everything else has been rightfully taken, but the photos remained.

Me and my parents are white, and it's worth noting this family was black.

We kept the ones on the walls around for months expecting a phone call or a letter going, "hey, we left a shit ton of professionally taken fall photos of our dear children and grandparents, and we'd like you to send them to us, please," but that never came. Maybe they still had the negatives. Maybe all but one of them were kidnapped and killed by the mafia, and the lone survivor couldn't bare to be around them anymore. I don't know.

Before we accepted they were never going to ask for their photos back, they had gotten long intermingled with our own family photos. Guests had come over. Even immediate family had seen the photos, looked very confused, but were never brave enough to ask who the hell they were. I had one by my bedside of a small child holding a pumpkin.

After a few years, my dad rediscovered the ones that had been left in the kitchen and since boxed in the attic, so he put those out, too, so now people who had been seeing these photos for years suddenly had new ones to ponder, but still they never wanted to ask who the hell these clearly very close friends or family of ours was, or why they hadn't aged at all, or why all of them were fall themed. Finally, my grandfather cracked and asked who they were, and was actually mad when my dad went, "oh I have no fuckin' clue," after he had been stewing in that mystery for years.

Over a decade later, we were moving out of that house. The joke was no longer funny, so my dad elected to take the frames and toss the unclaimed photos. Except when he pulled the very first photo out, it had the demensions of the frame printed on the back.

He looked around and realized there were only about four unique frames despite over a dozen unique photos, all of which had the dimension printed on the back.

They were stockphotos from a single shoot in a pumpkin patch. They were the images that had come with the frames, and the real estate agent just elected to tell us about this utterly fake family she had invented on the spot to make the home seem more personable. And it had worked so well we just displayed them for a decade alongside our actual family photos.

Basically the title. I sat at the back of the bus once when she started also using the same bus rather than relying on Ubers all the time (I told her to get a monthly buspass instead). And for some reason I get overly competitive over very mundane things only.

So that day I wonder, "could I beat her if I got off the bus early?" Dumb thought, I know. But I got off the bus a whole stop earlier than normal and began my walk. The bus drove past me and everything but I just wanted to win this one-sided battle against her.

Speed walked like I NEVER did before. I was gonna solo her in this mental race of mine without her even knowing.

She was on her phone too but i figured it was fair cuz I gave her a headstart, yknow? Better players must give themselves slight handicaps if they wanna fight with equity.

I mean, she is a lady in her mid-thirties tbf. How much more merciful could I get...?

I obviously won that day. And every morning I do the same shit now. I started getting off two stops earlier instead just to be the goat I am.

I lost only one day out of the 4 months I've been doing this. She has no clue. No clue she's getting beat DAILY. I smile and say mornings to her, and she's clueless. She thinks I'm the kind youngest worker of the daycare. She has no idea the secrets I hide.

Sorry this is cringe as hell but I still gloat over it every morning. My smartwatch praises me, I get an ego boost before an entire day of being an awkward fuck, and she gets a nice smile in the morning. Win/win ig.

So I (26F) just recently got married to my (26M) Husband “V”

Him and I are pretty open books. We don’t have secrets. We don’t project our full lives out there but if anyone asks us anything, typically we’re gonna answer.

Anyway, we got married at a courthouse so we can save up for the bigger wedding. (So, we didn’t have a cake and reception etc.)

We had been going back and forth on what our first dance should be when we have the big wedding and there’s too many wonderful songs to pick from and in general, picking the perfect song infront of all your loved ones can be tough.

So, we decided that on the night of our courthouse wedding that would pick this one specific song that’s very special to us and never tell a single soul. Just something private. Just us. That way, it didn’t matter what we did infront of our friends and family because we had our special moment together!

My Husband and I aren’t secret keeping kind of people cause we like open communication and think that stuff like that can hurt people but we thought it would be fun to have this one little secret just to say that we HAVE a secret!

So, TLDR: My husband and I danced together on our wedding night to a secret song that no one will ever know because it’s the one innocent secret we will keep for the rest of our lives!

I love him so much.

I work in a store and I have this stupid little habit where I make up completely fake obstacles just so customers feel like I personally did them a favor.

Like if someone asks for something and I know we have more in the back, sometimes I’ll go “Ohhh I’m pretty sure we’re completely out… but my boss hid some for himself , let me check for you” and then disappear for two minutes and come back holding it like I just fought three employees and broke into a warehouse.

Or I’ll tell someone “ the bag costs extra, but honestly just take it” even when I was going to give them one anyway.

We also have expensive Pokémon cards behind glass, and when someone asks if they can see one up close I’ll go “Normally I’m actually not supposed to take these out… but you seem trustworthy” and then hand it to them.

Other completely fictional rules I have invented include:

“We’re only supposed to hold items for 30 minutes, but I can hide it behind the counter for you.”

“I’m technically meant to put this back on the shelf, but I’ll keep it here until you finish looking around.”

“Usually we can’t open a new box just for one item, but nobody needs to know.”

“I’m not really supposed to give people the nicer display bag unless it’s a gift… but whatever.”

“I’m supposed to close this cabinet in a minute, so you got here at the perfect time.”

” Sorry it’s limited to one person person, but if you bag this immediately I’ll pretend like I didn’t see”

None of these rules exist.

I just enjoy watching people leave thinking they somehow got preferential treatment at a store where I have absolutely no authority.

A few years ago I saw a bunch of posts/comments of people arguing about the use of “partner” for your significant other. It seemed to really bug some people when straight people would say it, because “why would you not just say girlfriend/wife!? What are you hiding?”. And some of them said they wouldn’t stop thinking about it wondering if the other person was gay or trans or something.

So just for fun, I started using it (I also didn’t really like saying fiancé when we got engaged, so win win). Most people don’t bat an eye, but every now and then you see somebody perk up when you say it. You see the wheels turning and they start studying you. It’s hilarious.

My husband and I took the in-laws out for a nice dinner on Mother's Day. My mother-in-law is a very proper lady and is always insisting on good manners, so this was extra humorous. During dessert, I heard this low rumbling, and looked around, and it was coming from her. Suddenly, she let out the loudest and loooongest fart I have ever heard, it just kept on going, and going, and even the servers in the restaurant looked around for the sound, and then after a while it finally stopped, and there was complete silence around us. She turned red, and said, "Well, excuse me!" And my father-in-law burst out laughing, while I covered my laugh with a napkin and pretended it didn't happen. I felt bad for her so I made sure no one saw me laugh.

But as soon as we got home, my husband and I laughed and laughed about it. That is all.

My younger brother and I are polar opposites. He's a star football player. I was the president of the theater club. He spends his time throwing around a ball, I spend my time singing and dancing.

Except, he also kind of spends his time singing. When no one's around. And he's pretty decent at it. Like weirdly good, for someone with zero experience. I may or may not have begged him a couple of times to audition for the school musical because a) male talent is few and far between, and b) I'd just love to do a show with my little brother.

I'll catch him singing along to his playlist when he's working out or putting the dishes away. But he immediately clams up when he notices someone's in the room with him. He refuses to sing in the car even when the rest of my family is singing their lungs out.

The one place my brother does sing freely is in the shower. He'll put on his playlist and just belt it out. I don't know why, maybe it's a "if they can't see me, they can't hear me" mentality? Idk.

My bedroom is right below the upstairs bathroom. I can hear him crystal clear from there. I just love hearing him sing. And I'd love to sing with him, because I get to sing with my friends all the time, and that kind of love language just doesn't translate to my nonchalant tough-guy athlete brother I guess.

So I take what I can get, and I sing along with him to whatever he's singing. And it's just become a routine. It's my favorite part of the day. But I know that if I ever tell him that I like hearing him sing in the shower, he'll be embarrassed and stop. So I guess that's my secret to keep for now. I sing with my brother every night and he has no idea.

So I’m blind. I’m not here to explain how I read or type or any of that, that’s what Google is for. Sorry if that sounds rude but educating people just because I’m the only blind person around is tiring.

So sometimes sighted folks are idiots around me. They’ll ask weird questions, walk in front of me as if they’re testing if I really can’t see them, that sort of thing.

My favourite example is one time this guy came over and asked where my guide dog was. I use a cane and don’t have nor want a dog. But on that day I was fed up.

So I reached out at dog height as if I expected a dog to be there, then kind of did a little mime routine of trying to find my non-existent dog. It might have gone on longer if I’d kept a straight face but I’m not good at hiding expressions.

There are other examples but this one amuses people the most. Please think before you speak, folks!

as a kid, i always had the opinion that it was cringe to like your own posts, on instagram and twitter and stuff.

…so, when i made my first few reddit comments, i didn’t like that it showed that i had upvoted it myself. i wanted to earn my upvotes (i also didn’t know that people couldn’t see who exactly upvoted posts)

really, everyone probably just thought that my comments sucked because they always showed as having two downvotes (since it goes from 1 to -1 when you downvote your own comments)

this embarrassed me for a couple years but now i can laugh about it lol.

I dunno, just wanna share this. I had a literal kids kick scooter donated to me (kinda) by the neighbors. They originally gave it to my sister (then 4) but when my sister didn’t like it after 10 seconds, my parents got her a 3 wheel and tried to trash the neighbor’s donation, i simply kept it, cuz young adult, can’t drive because of epilepsy, and it came in handy lol.

So anyways, I’m leaving work, I got the scooter with me, and a kid (maybe 8) is laughing at me, making fun of me, an adult, having a scooter.

It’s nothing crazy kid like, just a pink and teal scooter.

I simply said “Bud, you probably have one at home.”

And his parents butted in and said “You have a paw patrol one, hers isn’t a big deal either.”

Bro started crying yelling at his parents because he was embarrassed about having a paw patrol scooter.

I simply said “It’s transportation, doesn’t matter what’s on it. And it’s more fun than walking.” Smiled, walked away.

Kid was WAILING like a toddler that didn’t get a cookie from the mall. Like dude? Seriously😭😭😭 22 year old me grew up on paw patrol, I’d trade you if i fit on it😭😭😭

Anyways, funny story, one of my coworkers called me asking why I made a kid cry and she thought it was hilarious too.

When I was 17, I got a scholarship to a very expensive East Coast school, one you might have even heard of. Anyway, since I was so poor, in addition to the scholarship, I had to work 3 part-time jobs while going to school full-time, just to afford a crappy basement studio filled with cockroaches.

I hardly had money for food, much less toilet paper. The fancy school always had tons of toilet paper, and I found through trial and error that if I used my tiny mailbox key to turn the toilet paper roll lock, it would free the roll.

So every week I would go into stalls and take just ONE of the two toilet paper rolls (I didn't want to ever leave anyone in a lurch in the stall), put it in my backpack, and bring it home. The key even worked on those giant rolls they had, the ones that are like two feet in diameter. If I managed to nab one of those, it lasted me a month! But I'd have to sneak it out in a garbage bag, because it was too big to fit into my backpack.

I did this for the entire four years of college, and graduated with honors, although my internal honor was blackened by my thieving. I justified it to myself that the school was so overpriced and making so much money that they could afford to support the wiping of my ass for a few years. I still feel a little bad about it, even though it was over 20 years ago.

It started during the winter of 2023. I walked into a newly opened artisanal bakery in my neighborhood. I was wearing an unusually large scarf, feeling a bit dramatic, and when the barista asked for my order, my brain completely short-circuited. Out came this bizarre, vaguely European, heavily theatrical accent.

​Instead of just saying, "One almond croissant, please," I hit them with:

​"Ah, yes. I require the crescent pastry. It reminds me of the winters in the old country."

​I don’t even have an old country. I am from Ohio.

​I thought I’d never go back, but it turns out they make the best pastries in a 50-mile radius. So, I had to return. And because the owner remembered "the fascinating foreigner," I had to keep the accent.

When she allows me, that is. I never force her. I have this very sweet and shy cat named Lilly, and she usually stays away from prolonged petting or snuggling. But I just recently slipped and fell and broke my jaw, and she's suddenly started sleeping near my face every night on the broken side and purring. I heard that a cat's purr vibrates at a frequency of 25 to 150 Hz, which scientific studies suggest can act as a natural self-healing mechanism for bone growth, tissue repair, and pain relief, so I just go with it.

I don't know if it's working, and I don't have any way to study it, but it feels very good to have her purring and touching my jaw. Sometimes if she's laying down during the day, I'll pet her and put my face on her side and she just lets me do it until she gets antsy and walks off.

Like I said, don't know if it's doing any physical good, but it feels nice, and I'm enjoying the new attention Lilly is giving me!

Edit: cat tax pic of her

As the title says, I don’t care for grilling, It’s the only time I really cook as my husband loves cooking inside, He enjoys baking and making anything pasta related to show off his skills to me, though he’s been really into making pizzas for me.

But sometimes, I’ll decide I want to grill hamburgers or hotdogs, or anything really, and he’ll decide to relax in the sun, I know this, which is the only reason I like to grill in the first place.

And he’s got these banana shorts that he wears, Don’t even remember where they came from but he loves wearing them while chilling out in the sun, and wear, oh god, He’s got banana glasses that match his shorts, I can’t stand them but he loves them, so I love them.

And while I’m watching him, our son chills in the kiddie pool, He’ll just lay there because he likes the warm water, I love grilling days.

As a kid, I was always (correctly) told to always check left-right-left before crossing the street. however, it always annoyed me that the same adults that would insist I need to do it wouldn't do it themselves. They'd just waltz right out into the parking lot because they're tall enough that a car will see and stop.

So for my entire life, from tiny frustrated kid me to the day I die, I look EXTREMELY BLATANTLY left-right-left. I swivel my head a full 90-180-180 degrees, and when I have long hair like I do now, it whips around. It is impossible to say I did not look left-right-left. No subtlety. No little glance.

I do this so any kid who might be watching goes, "oh fuck yeah, that's how you do it. adults do it. I'm cool for doing what that dude does."

I mean, in reality, the kids probably don't even notice. but if they do. they'll know checking both ways isn't for babies only.

I’m a middle school teacher. One day in the classroom I realized there was a squeaky floor joint in the corner of the classroom. I stepped on it and it made a curiously fart-like sound.

The kids immediately went “EWWWWW!” and said I (the teacher) farted. Nope! I pointed at the floor joint and stepped on it a few times, showing it made the telltale fart sound but it WASN’T me, the teacher, farting.

Over the course of the semester I’d occasionally step there on purpose and the class of 6th graders would go nuts laughing about the sound.

Ironically I was grooming them.

Whenever I really had to fart, thanks to my intestinal fortitude (or lack thereof), I’d go back to that same floor joint and step on it, simultaneously releasing a well-earned Havana Omelette like breeze; and the students were none the wiser.

I went on a date yesterday and after we left my stomach was in shambles I couldn’t help but tell him how much it hurt he tried to find a bathroom where we were around but it was late and almost nothing was open , he then turns to me and says “you might have to squat and take a shit outside” I was like hell no he then hands me a towel the pain I was feeling was unbearable. He went into a shady parking lot and I …. I took a shit in the parking lot. I used the towel and baby wipes and got back in the car and we continued our night LMAO I’m embarrassed

It’s so fucking stupid but it makes me giggle so much. Especially this stock image. I made a fade-in gif of it on Discord and I lost my shit laughing. It’s just so fucking funny. I now kinda understand why people find stuff like 67 so funny, it’s random and it’s silly. Just like me laughing at this godforsaken symbol. It’s literally just a symbol used in sheet music why is it so funny to me😭 I love it so much

Edit: Wow, I’m so sorry some people who commented here have such a dull and joyless life. I hope whimsy finds you too someday, friends.

When I was 7 and my brother was 8, our dad bought a juicer. For a normal family, that’s just a kitchen appliance. For us, it was the beginning of a gastrointestinal disaster.
We started making fresh juice all the time, and my brother and I went absolutely feral for the apple one. Glass after glass. Especially him. He drank it like apples were about to become illegal the next morning.
Obviously, his eight-year-old stomach did not forgive this betrayal.
That evening we went to stay at our grandma’s house, and pretty soon there was a full-scale civil war happening inside my brother’s stomach. It was rumbling, twisting and inflating like someone was pumping up an air mattress in there.
At some point, he thought he just needed to fart.
And that was the biggest mistake of his young life:
he trusted the fart.
It was not a fart.
He shit his shorts.
And the best part? He decided to tell NO ONE.
He just sat there with a completely straight face, pretending everything was fine. Like he hadn’t just created a localized environmental disaster inside his own pants.
There was only one problem.
The smell.
He could deny everything he wanted, but that cloud already had its own passport, citizenship and permanent address.
Then our grandma walked into the room.
She took one breath.
Paused.
And her internal detective solved the case immediately.
Her eyes locked onto my brother.
“DID YOU SHIT YOURSELF?!”
My brother, who had been holding his defense like a war criminal under interrogation, instantly burst into tears.
Now, our grandma was old school. There was no, “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
She handed down the sentence:
WASH THE SHORTS BY HAND.
So there he was, eight years old, standing over the sink, washing his own shit-covered shorts while crying his eyes out and repeating through the tears:
“I DON’T KNOW HOW TO WASH CLOTHES… I DON’T KNOW HOW…”
The level of tragedy in his voice made it sound like Grandma had sentenced him to twenty years of hard labor.
And I just stood there watching the whole thing like the only surviving witness of the Great Apple Juice Apocalypse.
Years have passed, but the phrase “I don’t know how to wash clothes” still deserves to be the official soundtrack of that night.
Moral of the story: never underestimate fresh apple juice.
And never. Ever.
Trust a fart after drinking way too much of it.

A few years ago, I was sitting in a café questioning my entire life, and instead of making a decision like a responsible adult, I flipped a coin. Heads meant taking the first bus leaving the city, tails meant going back to work and pretending I knew what I was doing. The coin landed on heads, so I left with no destination, no plan, and what was probably a temporary malfunction of common sense. That random trip took me to a city where I knew almost nobody, and years later I somehow built a life there: a career, friends, a home, and eventually a wife. The funniest part is that she knows I’m weird, she knows I overthink everything, but she has no idea that one of the biggest reasons we ever met is because a small piece of metal bounced the right way on a café table. Sometimes she asks why I moved here, and I give her a normal answer. I never tell her that our entire life together exists because one morning I outsourced my future to a coin flip… and somehow, against all logic, it worked..

I work from home, and often I get bored, even though I am busy working. I'm not on camera, so no one knows this. I have a lot of fancy dresses, like cocktail dresses and a few ball gowns, so sometimes I'll just put them on and float around the house like a fancy lady. Sometimes I'll even put on a tiara. It's ridiculous, I know, but it makes me feel good and makes me laugh. That is all.

Okay so I grew up very poor in a low-income city. Since everyone else was poor too, I didn’t realize I was poor for a while.

I also come from a huge family with many different backgrounds. Almost all of my family went to the Catholic school in this city. If one cousin couldn’t afford the tuition, the school and family members helped out.

Anyways it was the beginning of my second year at this school. I was in seventh grade. We started to get group projects. I usually did group projects with my friend who lived down the street whose family was in a similar position to mine, but I think the teacher assigned us to random people this time?

I was assigned to a girl in class I didn’t know that well. She invited me to work on the project after school at her parent’s house. She lived out of the city and her mom would drive us there and then drive me home.

Her mom picks us up and drives us there. As we are approaching the house I look out the window and it’s just what seemed to me like mansion after mansion. The mom drove into their garage. It was the first time I saw an automatic garage door. We went into the house and it was like spiral staircases, high ceilings, teched out. The TV had been left on while they were out? I was so shocked because I thought only people in movies lived like this.

The whole time I was there the mom kept bringing us out snacks and food to eat. I was stuffed to the max, but I remember my mom told me it’s rude to not eat food you’re given at someone’s house. I was worried about the food going to waste because they were the expensive snacks we only got every now and then. So I kept eating.

I remember the last thing she brought us was like a bowl of popcorn. I was about half way through it when my classmate wanted to show me her room. I left the popcorn downstairs and we went up to her room, which was such a beautiful room. The furniture matched, she had a bed canopy which also matched everything. The furniture and bed sheets were all white, but like pristine. None of it was dirty.

After a bit her mom called us saying it was time to take me home. We go back downstairs and I grab my stuff and we head to the car. I said I forgot something inside the house and I left the car and went back into the house alone.

I had everything I needed, but remembered I didn’t finish the bowl of popcorn so went in the living room to find it, but it wasn’t there. As I was leaving, I noticed the bowl of popcorn I was eating was moved to the kitchen counter. I thought the mom must’ve been mad at me for not eating the rest of it and that’s why it was there. I was still so full, but didn’t want her to think I was rude or ungrateful. I went over to the bowl and started hastily shoveling the popcorn in my mouth. They were waiting for me outside so I wanted to finish quickly.

I got a weird feeling and turned around while stuffing my face and chewing. I can’t remember if it was the mom or my classmate because I was so embarrassed, but one of them was standing there staring at me concerned. I realized in that moment I probably looked like a starving orphan or something.

I think I said I had everything and ran out to the car embarrassed. No one said anything or mentioned it. I don’t think she ever talked to me at school again after that, but we never talked much before. I definitely wasn’t invited over again lol.

I randomly remembered it today and never told anyone that story. Now that I’m an adult it’s funny instead of embarrassing.