Mofo1995 Posted January 13, 2016 Share Posted January 13, 2016 Hey! Just thought I'd start a thread where we could share our childhood heartfelt stories. Feel free to share below! I was only nine years old. I loved Donald Trump so much, I had all the merchandise. Every night I prayed to Trump, thanking him for wanting to deport illegal immigrants. "Trump is love" I'd say, "Trump is life." My dad heard me and called me a racist. I knew he was just envious of my devotion to Trump, so I called him a cuck. He slapped my face and sent me to bed. I was crying and my face hurt. Then I felt a warmth approach me... It was Donald Trump. I was so happy, he whispered to me "We need to build a wall." He got me out of bed and reached into his pocket, I was ready. I opened my wallet and he gave me a small loan of a million dollars. It hurt so much but I did it for Trump. I felt my wallet tearing as he put his money in. He roared a mighty roar as he filled up my wallet. My dad walks in and Trump looks him straight in the eye and says, "You're fired!" Trump left through my window. Trump is love, Trump is life. Quote Link to comment
Owen Posted January 13, 2016 Share Posted January 13, 2016 Hey! Just thought I'd start a thread where we could share our childhood heartfelt stories. Feel free to share below! I was only nine years old. I loved Donald Trump so much, I had all the merchandise. Every night I prayed to Trump, thanking him for wanting to deport illegal immigrants. "Trump is love" I'd say, "Trump is life." My dad heard me and called me a racist. I knew he was just envious of my devotion to Trump, so I called him a cuck. He slapped my face and sent me to bed. I was crying and my face hurt. Then I felt a warmth approach me... It was Donald Trump. I was so happy, he whispered to me "We need to build a wall." He got me out of bed and reached into his pocket, I was ready. I opened my wallet and he gave me a small loan of a million dollars. It hurt so much but I did it for Trump. I felt my wallet tearing as he put his money in. He roared a mighty roar as he filled up my wallet. My dad walks in and Trump looks him straight in the eye and says, "You're fired!" Trump left through my window. Trump is love, Trump is life. That was the most beautiful thing that I have ever read... You have had an amazing childhood. Quote Link to comment
Jboy2000000 Posted January 14, 2016 Share Posted January 14, 2016 My first word was "Bitch." My mom HATED when people curses around me, so my Nana always cursed around around me when she wasn't around, just to screw with her. My first words were bitch, fuck, followed by Mama. Quote Link to comment
Mofo1995 Posted January 14, 2016 Author Share Posted January 14, 2016 My first word was "Bitch." My mom HATED when people curses around me, so my Nana always cursed around around me when she wasn't around, just to screw with her. My first words were bitch, fuck, followed by Mama. Quote Link to comment
Mofo1995 Posted January 30, 2016 Author Share Posted January 30, 2016 This is the story of a parakeet named Charlie. (FLUFFYBIRB STAY OUT). TW: Feels. I'll never forget the first time I saw my parakeet, Charlie. I had come into my apartment after some time on the playground with friends, and as I walked into the living room I was surprised to see a bright green and yellow bird in a cage. My whore mother was on the couch with one of her many gentleman callers who had apparently donated the bird for our benefit, but neglecting that the prospect of having a pretty brightly colored chirping bird was exciting for me. Charlie was an adventurous spirit, and when we let him out of his cage to fly around the apartment it would take hours to recollect him. One time, after getting home from school and while my babysitter was napping, I came up with the genius idea to throw open bookbags at him to hopefully catch him in one, but understandably (and luckily) the plan was a failure. At night we would put a blanket over Charlie's cage to put him to sleep. If we didn't he would chirp a lot when he saw us, and in the morning we would take the blanket off the cage to rouse him during breakfast. One day, for the first time that I remembered, I got to the cage before anyone else and took off the blanket first, and there I saw Charlie lying on the bottom of the cage. I started tapping the metal on the cage and telling him to wake up, but he wouldn't budge. My mom came over, and this is when I could tell something was wrong. She ushered me over to eat breakfast, and something about her rushed voice conveyed alarm. When I came back from School, my mother, in tears, informed me that Charlie had passed away and was buried at the edge of the woods neighboring my apartment, with nothing but a small mound of dirt and a bendy straw as a grave marker to remember him by. tl;dr: Birds don't lie down to sleep. Quote Link to comment
MagnificentMelkior Posted January 31, 2016 Share Posted January 31, 2016 (edited) This is a real story. Its the only time I got into a fight borne of anger. It was elementary school. We (dem boyz) were engaged in a long term war over a certain really comfy tree with the girls. But this isn't a war story. There was a homosexual, Joey Anon, who betrayed the boys at a key moment to join the girls. We lost the tree that day, and I wanted vengeance. So I got the two tallest kids in my grade. We grabbed basketballs and kick balls, and went hunting. I saw a kid in a hoodie, his face totally obscured, laying out on a bench in the basketball court. Somehow, I was sure it was Joey, so I ordered my men to launch a volley. They asked me "Are you sure?" and I confess I got annoyed that they dared question my judgement. I told them yes, its definitely him, and we fired out a broadside of balls. One of them hit, and the kid on the bench grunted angrily. My two cohorts again questioned me "Are you sure? That doesn't sound like him..." and I said "yes, again!" We launched our second and final broadside. One ball hit, yielding a grunt, and then another. The kid jumped onto his feet with a bear-like 9 year old roar. He charged me, and my men routed at the sight of him. It was the psycho kid with anger management classes that everyone was afraid to talk to. This was the first time in my life were I remember experiencing bullet time, and I thought back to Legend of Zelda (OoT) -- the closest thing I had to combat experience. He reminded me of that one monster that rears up and dashes into you that you have to dodge and hit in the back. So I waited for him to get close and I jumped out of the way. Just like the monster, he kept running forward and stunned himself after colliding with the fence behind me. I hesitated though and lost my attack of opportunity. I backed away, and he charged me again. I dodged, and again he ran into a fence. After that I slipped away and vanished into the throng, free to bully another day. Edited January 31, 2016 by Guest Quote Link to comment
Carver Posted January 31, 2016 Share Posted January 31, 2016 My Father told me that when I was a small child, I would go to the middle of the bathroom, doesn't matter if the bathroom was public or private, pull my pants down, and proceed to shit on the middle of the floor. Quote Link to comment
Mofo1995 Posted January 31, 2016 Author Share Posted January 31, 2016 My Father told me that when I was a small child, I would go to the middle of the bathroom, doesn't matter if the bathroom was public or private, pull my pants down, and proceed to shit on the middle of the floor. This happened at least three times my senior year in my high-school. The perpetrator was never apprehended, but many were accused. The same also happened in my father's high school, except he was a "serial pooper." Specifically, they called him the "mad pooper" and he did terrorist-like poopings all over the school, his crowning achievement being the pooping of the principal's office. He was also never discovered or apprehended. Quote Link to comment
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