My mom once recommended a sushi place in town to me because the gay man she works with said he liked it. It ended up tasting like ass. (pun unintended). Not only was the fish terrible, but nigiri and sashimi didn’t exist. You could get sashimi on a bed of iceberg or rolls. And every. fucking. roll. had mayonnaise and/or cream cheese and/or avocado.
I once dated a man whose hair would normally have been totally gray, but he got it partially dyed brown, because all brown would have been obvious, but if he got some gray dyed in and some brown, he would look naturally younger. :rolleyes:
My things are my piercings. I get asked multiple times a day about whether or not they hurt. Responses have ranged from “I passed out from this one ::point::” (lie), to “it felt like sunshine and butterfiles” to “Needles going through your flesh hurt!” and my favorite is “only when people ask about them”. Unfortunately, I also often maintain a professional demeanor and attest that they were all sharp but bearable pain." Outside of work, I’ll often mention something that makes the situation awkward, because all of my visible piercing are in the ears (0g lobes, one tragus, one conch), and rarely, I’ll have my septum piercing flipped down. So I’l mention “Not as much as the nipples!” or “Not as much as the Prince Albert!”
Also, I don’t know if it’s just old people or what, but I get called “Ma’am” probably 3 or 4 times a day. I have a beard. I have thinning hair. I speak in a pleasant, resounding low baritone.
Enough people have already mentioned it to make it not worth mentioning, but I have a pug. She’s not fat, she’s muscular. That’s why her small body weighs 15 pounds. YOU CAN SEE HER RIBS. Ugh.
Ouch! Hey, I was just sayin’…
I get, “Don’t you ever eat?” or “Ugh, you’re so thin. I hate you.” Or “You’re so tiny!”
I once burst into tears when a salesgirl squealed, “Oh, you’re just so tiny!” In my defense, I’d been trying and failing all day to buy clothes that fit, nine people had said it before her, and there were no weapons-grade fish within reach.
The next person who says “Are you guys brothers?” to me and cwPartner gets will have to learn to sit carefully so as not to crack the the large jar of gefilte fish I shove up his/her ass.
C’mon, people - I know that the “all you people look alike” dynamic is real, and I know that we both have facial hair and glasses. But cwPartner and I are of different fucking ethnic groups, for pete’s sake.
Oh, and the next person who asks if we’re twins will simply be killed on the spot.
“Give me pocket aces.” Sure, pay off my mortgage first.
“Deal Me the jackpot.” see above
Various and sundry crap about how much money I make. My standard response is: “After careful analysis, I figured out which seat is the guaranteed winner…This one.”
Be fortunate if your name is a decent song. Mine is of a very bad band. How many times a day I hear “Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam” Jesus Christ, if you can name ONE song of theirs, I’ll let it slide, otherwise? Pass the wet trout please.
About the white non-deaf cat Jasper. My grandparents had a cat for 13 years and had NO idea she was deaf until my grandfather shot off a pistol with her standing right next to him and she never flinched. Once the other cats died away, it became more obvious, but her deafness was hidden by her just following the other cats to dinner and such.
Next stranger who says “Wow, look at all this freezing weather, so much for global warming, hyuk hyuk!” will be stabbed with an icicle and left to die. And vice versa in the summer for hot weather.