10.10001The ideal place to post unapologetically bad field reports, utterly asinine TRP questions, or any other satirical content that would otherwise be down-voted into oblivion. Autism-approved space
WHERE IS THE SIDEBAR? I NEED IT TO GET PLATES
[askTRP] [Rant/vent]
Okay, so I had the hardest time finding the sidebar today, it really shouldn't be this difficult. It directly impacted my ability to find some plates today as well, like, what the actual fuck?
...
Okay, so this is what happened:
I read some posts on this forum about lifting, so I went to the gym because I figured that that's where the sidebar would be because the gym and TRP are related.
I also read about cold approaching at the gym all the time on here so I thought I'd get myself some plates there while I'm at it.
...
I WAS WRONG
...
One thing went wrong after the other, it was like clockwork.
So first of all, I didn't know what a sidebar looks like. I found a deadlift bar, a bench press bar, even an adjustable bar for doing curls, but no sidebar anywhere to be seen. Like, are you guys trolling me about the sidebar or something? Like dayum
...
At this rate I was getting pretty annoyed. I did my entire workout without seeing a sidebar anywhere, so I abandoned my first mission and instead I asked two nearby guys where I can get some plates.
One of the guys, we'll call him 'Dickface', because he didn't help me much at all, pointed me towards some 45 lb weights that go on bars.
I thought he heard me wrong because clearly he wasn't pointing at any hot women, let alone not even a HB5. Like, come on, Dickface, I can find weights by myself, he had to have been mocking me.
I said in response, "bruh those aren't plates." Then Dickfaces's friend, who I'll call "Pokerface" because of his deadpan seriousness, when he he obviously followed up by joking even further, said that "those actually were plates".
But Pokerface said it all polite and what not, which really grinded my gears because those definitely weren't chicks, or even people for that matter, they were weights. He had to have known that 100% before he trolled me like that in front of everyone.
...
At this point, I'm not just annoyed, but indignant about it. So I told them, "How the fuck am I supposed to spin these plates man?" They both feigned confusion and asked me what I was talking about. Obviously they were either really blue-pilled and still plugged into the mattix or Chad and Brad that needed to get off their high horse.
Knowing at least the first rule of TRP, I said, "first rule of fight club, don't talk about fight club". Then they started posturing and said "hey man, we don't want any trouble". Like, what was that about? I was just quoting TRP
...
A female personal trainer, A.K.A. Karen, then came by and asked what the problem was and if she could help me. I told her that "I can't find the sidebar and that it would be great if she could personally help me with getting laid right now"
Her and Dickface and Pokerface just gave me the dirtiest looks and then Karen called me a creep and said she was kicking me out. Like what the fuck? She's a personal trainer, she can't personally help me with plate advice there?
She works at the gym, she should have advice on how I can get laid with plates there. Her panties must have really been riled up in a bunch before I even got there or something, because I was being polite and reasonable despite my growing inpatience with that whole fiasco.
I tried to hold frame by saying "no you won't" and she gave me one of these "shit tests" about getting security. I couldn't agree and amplitude fast enough before she stormed off.
...
Well, while Karen and Dick and Pokerface stormed off, I decided to try to spin those "plates" they were talking about, maybe that just attracts nearby women or something. Well, one of the "plates" slipped and rolled into some dad's younger daughter's foot and she screamed and started crying.
At this point everyone is just pissed at me so I start booking it out of there before the off-chance anyone might misperceive that was my fault. Afterall, I asked about spinning plates before and no one really helped me know how. They said I was banned on my way out, which sucked.
That was the only gym in my town so now I'm royally fucked. How am I supposed to lift now and make gains? I just wanted plates today, what was their problem?
...
Anyway, sorry for the rant. Where was I supposed to find the sidebar at the gym? It really shouldn't have been that hard if everyone that lifts knows about it but me.
I'm so confused.
TL;DR sidebar was too hard to find at the gym and Karen and some gym bros made it so that I couldn't lay any plates there because of it. Where was I supposed to be able to find it at the gym?
Read Moreloool for fuck sake I’m a moron.
Accidentally responding seriously to a post on the Satire tribe from the "hot" feed is practically a rite of passage on here now. I faceplanted hard into this trap before, and caught myself in the nick of time more than once since.
I was 53 years old. I'd been a fan of Shrek ever since the first movie came out in 2001, though I may have been somewhat older than the target audience.
My wife of 33 years hated my devotion to Shrek. In hindsight, I can kind of see why. She'd ask why I liked Shrek so much, to which I could only reply:
Shrek is love. Shrek is life.
One day, she had enough and dropped a nuclear shit test upon my masculine alpha-wolf sigma-frame:
Shrek is for children, and you're a baby. You're also a giant faggot.
I seethed in my masculine anger and manly aggression, but held oak-Skittles-Man-frame.
fuck you, you stupid bitchy cunt! I hope you and your mother die in a fiery car crash!
...I replied, calmly and rationally.
Then, she insulted me with the worst insult imaginable:
You don't go well.
As masculine manly tears welled up in my eyes whilst my iron heart was torn asunder, the advice of our marriage counselor echoed within my perfectly calm and rational alphasigma brain:
share your feelings. don't be afraid to be vulnerable.
I dropped to my knees, sobbing.
honey, when you say such things, you harm me to the very quick of my masculine soul!
To which she hypergamously shit tested:
You don't go well, at all. You're a giant baby who's obsessed with a baby movie franchise. And Shrek is retarded.
As I sobbed my manly tears of seething vexation, through the snot i suddenly smelled onions. A familiar voice came through the wall:
I think you need to leave, you awful bitch.
It was Shrek!
The wall bust in, Kool-Ade Man style, and there in is ogre glory he stood, his eshrekt penis glistening in the light.
WHAT. THE. FUUUUUUUUUCK?!
...my wife screamed.
She ran out of the house, jumped in the car, and burned on out of the driveway.
The massive ogre turned his attention to me. I was already on my knees, and I wanted to please the ogrelord.
I presented myself to him like a female red-assed baboon in heat.
As he entered me and began thrusting, I passed out from the pain.
I woke up in the ICU. As my ultrasigma mind recalled the events that led me there, tears of joy streamed down my face. They smelled vaguely of swamp gas and onion juice.
Shrek is love.
Shrek is life.
Read MoreI've earnestly tried to connect with you on this topic using serious straight talk in the political tribes
No, you've earnestly lied your ass off and denied factual reality.
@Typo-MAGAshiv I've earnestly tried to connect with you on this topic using serious straight talk in the political tribes. Recognize this as attempting the same, using satire and TRP form factors and vernacular as a rhetorical vehicle. Try to not stand in front of said vehicle firing off shots impulsively and missing the bigger picture.
OOC: this tribe is supposed to be for satire and shitposts, not lies, propaganda, and bullshit
I understand it might be confusing to someone who can't grasp reality or facts, but do try to keep up
and have some vcards for flouncing around about a domestic terrorist getting what she deserved!
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How do I regain my masculine frame after a dyke insulted me and I shot her "Wife"?
Guys, I desperately need help on this one! I lost frame after this dyke insulted me, and now my cushy no-accountability job is on the line!
So, I'm working the shitty streets of Milwaukee on the President's orders, when our cop-like Suburban got stuck. While we were trying to free it, these two dykes pulled up and started insulting us, acting all entitled as though protesting was some kind of RIGHT they had.
I engaged the one who got out of her car, and she tried to play it off like they had nothing to hide and pointing to their unconcealed license plate. Then the fucking bitch said the line that destroyed my frame: "Go get a sandwich, big boy!"
Well, that made me so angry, I forgot all department rules and procedures, which admittedly are few and far between. I walked in FRONT of a running vehicle, and switched my cell phone to my left hand so the right was free to pull my weapon.
As my colleague tried to pull open the driver's door, the fucking dyke told her, "Drive, babe!" The dyke in the driver seat then turned her wheel hard right to get around me instead of complying, so I fired through her windshield, then when the car was passing next to me, fired more rounds directly into the stupid bitch's head.
Now, I feel I'm getting unfairly accused of murder by millions of people around the country, when I was JUST FOLLOWING ORDERS! I'm really scared; I can't afford to lose this gig, because I lucked into it with a huge enrollment bonus, after failing out of countless enlistment tests at every police agency I applied at before.
TRP, How do I get my masculine frame back, after getting so viciously emasculated by a woman who doesn't even like men?
Read More@First-light I think they just continually suffer not going well
Dulcolax: for when you don't go well
[Any forum at all] [obvious spam]
Do people frequently tell you, "you don't go well"?
Do you find yourself straining because it's hard to go, because you don't go well?
If so, then the solution is Dulcolax Stool Softener!
It's not a laxative, so it doesn't make you go. But when you do go, it helps you go well.
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(Not available in gypsy camps. Side effects include the urge to post long, nonsensical screeds, nausea, depression, suicidal thoughts, premature ejaculation, female pattern baldness, lethargy, and death. Do not take Dulcolax if you're allergic to Dulcolax. Consult your doctor to see if you don't go well. )
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