My dad barricaded my mom and us kids out of the house for a couple hours and destroyed hundreds of dollars worth of library books and cds that we were using for a Girl Scouts unit on hula dancing. The living room looked like a war zone when we were allowed back inside.
Not looking for a pity party, I’ve moved on. It was just sad because I firmly believe books should never be wilfully destroyed as such.
No. No, I’ve never ever seen anything quite as disgraceful or insulting as that. I’m glad you were so insulted that you almost told them about it.
A flag? Seriously?
I once saw a guy churning butter. On a bus. In his pants.
I noticed when I approached the door for my stop.
:DWe both got off.
Well, this happened just this week and I think it qualifies… my husband’s ex-wife just tried two, TWO, obviously fake suicide attempts (the last one involved taking a small amount of pills, while sitting in the hospital parking lot, and then immediately walking straight into the ER), all in an attempt to guilt-trip her son because she has no desire to take care of herself AT ALL for the first time in 55 years. The most despicable part? She’s only done this after my step-son’s wife’s father committed suicide less than two years ago. Goddam bitch.
My personal feelings aside, after everything she’s put my husband, step-son, and now by extension, his wife and her child, through… I swear to Og if I ever see her again, I worry that I’ll fucking deck her. And it takes a lot to hold this place of honor, considering my mother and her professions that I’m demon possessed because of my mental illness struggles.
Dude, a flag is nothing but a cloth and a pattern. I wouldn’t do it wrong either, but it is no big deal.
I’ve seen a lady pick up her little boy who had to go pee-pee, take his weenie out, and aim him into a trash can on the street. There he was, peeing into a trash can on the street. And it was a really busy shopping street. It was in China, but it was far from a normal thing to do.
Not sure if that is the tops, but it came to my mind first.
People begging in the streets of the USA. Thousands of them.
Nixon comes a close second, but only for the treason part, otherwise it would have been W’s attacking a country and killing thousands because “that nasty man tried to kill my Daddy”*
*when Daddy attacked the country the first time.
After Hussein invaded Kuwait.
I have known disgraceful things but not too many of them have I witnessed in public.
My father–a very strong man–attacking my mother.
A neighbor family of ours with at least a dozen children, all carbon copies of their father. The closest that got to “public” was that one of the kids brought a gun over to us, that the father was going to use to shoot his wife, whom he supposedly suspected of adultery. We took it to the police, who regarded it as a hot potato and insisted on waiting until someone actually got shot! (LAPD)
When I was ten years old, and we three kids had been going to the Salvation Army Sunday School for a while (we were so involved with them that our Dad actually drove their bus once!), our Dad was in the hospital and our Mom was barely making ends meet. The SA promised us some food and gifts because the holidays were approaching. They did not go through with their promise.
My stepfather paid no attention to his own son–sometimes going to a bar, where he stayed for hours, leaving his son (then aged 6) in the car in the bar parking lot.
The girl from high school, whom I call Vickie, was emotionally bullied for about ten years by another girl in the same grade, I call Molly. Molly used her mother’s influence to keep Vickie out of the Girl Scouts. She also tried to become lead soprano in the formal choir at school, and when Vickie got the position Molly and her younger sister quit the choir. Molly also caused Vickie’s boyfriend, in the band at another school, to jilt Vickie. (My brother had been in that band and knew this guy; if I had known about this at the time I could have really screwed things up for Molly.)
After my Mom divorced my stepfather, she applied for a credit card at the bank where she had her checking account. They turned her down; about the same time she got a flier with her checking account statement for college kids, to whom the bank would extend credit with less credit reference! (The bank obviously did not want to extend credit to a divorced woman.)
Is that enough for you, Eonwe?
Would you, could you, on a train?
My co-worker picks his nose, picks skin and scabs off his ears, picks sleep from his eyes and eats it all. Constantly. Not even slightly covertly. During the working day. In meetings with customers and suppliers.
He’s been told by everyone to stop, but it’s continued unabated for years.
OP didn’t say it was a US flag. I pictured a pirate flag. Tattered in the wind and rain. It was cool.
Two words - squirt bottle
Justifiable Homicide is a thing in the US. Do you UKers have anything similar?
In world full of suffering, to attach such significance to a piece of cloth is a disgrace.
As the most disgraceful things tend not to be much fun to discuss, here is a random disgraceful event that is disgraceful, sad and also kinda funny:
In TK Max several years ago, a whole family are in the shoe section. Mum is trying on stripper heels: very high, clear plastic platforms and lots of glitter. She sticks her leg in the air and asks her 7 year old daughter: “What do we call these?” And the little girl gleefully crows: “Spunkalicious!”
:eek:
I was at an amusement park and a woman was there with children of an age to be her grandchildren. She was wearing a t shirt with the word SHIT in 6 inch high letters. Probably not the worst thing I have seen but it has stuck with me for a long time.
Kinda long, and I think I told this one before:
Mardi Gras many years ago, it’s night time and everyone is beyond drunk. We’re on a balcony throwing what beads we have left over. A very drunk middle aged couple walks up and starts yelling that if we give them beads, he’ll pull out his dick. The basic response is no, and that we’ll give him beads not to do it. Not to be deterred, he pulls it out anyway and starts dancing around. It was kinda pathetic at that point, but it gets worse. He is so drunk, he doesn’t notice the police car that pulled up behind him (the police mostly tolerate boob flashing at Mardi Gras, but aren’t always too keen on exposing other body parts). The cop reaches out his window, grabs the guy’s arm and starts screaming at him that he’s going to jail unless he knocks that shit off now. Mr. drunk penis is so shocked/surprised, he loses bladder control and starts peeing all over the place. It goes all over the side of the cop car (fortunately the cop didn’t see this), then all over his wife’s leg, who is so drunk and scared she doesn’t notice until someone from our balcony says “ma’am, he’s peeing on your leg.” The cop gives him a warning and drives away, but things are not done yet. The couple is standing below our balcony, covered in piss. He is way humiliated and starts screaming at us like somehow we’re to blame. He starts crying, ripping beads off his neck and throwing them at the ground saying things like “You want beads, you want a show, here’s your fucking beads, fuck you all” all while just bawling like a baby. Eventually they slunk down the street, capping off our fabulous Mardi Gras week.
Out for breakfast with the family many years ago. A guy in another booth with his family. The young daughter can’t decide what she wants, so the guy starts in on her; “oh, the princess can’t decide what to eat. Maybe we should ask someone to help. Everybody please help the princess, because she’s better than the rest of us.” It went on in this vein for some time. Then: “Oh now you’re going to start crying; okay, cry for us so we can all feel sorry for you because they don’t have the right food for you.”
By this time I was furious, but my wife restrained me from saying anything. The most disgraceful part of all this was my failure to punch this fucker in the face.
I’ve seen people stealing bikes in public on a couple of occasions.
Kolkata (India)- circa 1991. A bicyclist, lying on the road, his brains squeezed out because his back and head (in that order) had been run over by a bus. That was the sad part. A young woman, who witnessed the accident, and stopped by to see if she could render any medical help (that was the touching part). The crowd of creepy leches who gathered around to gawp at her, and to voice their opinion on her clothes (a knee-length, whitish dress), her skin (a “white” woman – must be “phorenaar”), and more, while she screamed for someone to get a doctor from the nearby hospital (a doctor? He is most likely dead. Where is the emergency??? And, which country are you from, madam?) – THAT was the disgusting part. I still retch when I think of them. Although I still stop by to give first-aid to anyone who needs it (and now have a skin thick enough to deflect all penetrating the stares), I have nothing but contempt for a people who regard a medical emergency in a public arena as a show, and will take a gander, but not offer assistance.
Yeah, it’s just a piece of cloth, for chrissake.
