Hey you all know about that fungus that possesses ants to make them climb on the tip of grass blades in hopes of getting eaten by a cow, so that the fungus can continue its life cycle in the cow’s guts? Because I think that’s the kind of thing that’s wrong with cave divers.
We don’t know what’s down there. We don’t know what’s gotten into their heads that makes them so determined to physically, personally go down there to find out. But I wouldn’t entirely dismiss the possibility that whatever has gotten into them is very invested in getting eaten by whatever is down there.
i love the phrase “which could mean nothing” i think its my favorite thing to come out of the internet ever i love saying it. it could mean nothing but we all know better. we know the truth.
Hooters is just an extremely American take on a maid cafe if you think about it
your not wrong but you shouldnt say it
This is incorrect. Hooters was founded in 1983, and the first permanent maid cafe, Cure Maid Cafe, was established in 2001. Maid cafe’s are an extremely Japanese take on Hooters.
I read an AITA post a few weeks back about a woman who liked having snacks in the bath when she’s had a long day (a result of residual trauma iirc - the bath was her safe space). Her brand new husband of three weeks, a man twice her age who had no job, made her pay all of his bills and do all housework, and spent all day every day gaming because he wanted to make it as a Twitch streamer, had always been fine with this; but, on the day in question, had whisked her bath snacks out of her hands as she was on her way to the bathroom and tried to bin them, telling her it was time to ‘break her of that filthy habit in his home’. She told him if he ever actually paid anything towards the house she owns outright he might get a say, took her snacks back, and had her lovely bath. He was since giving her the silent treatment.
(Obviously the judgement was an avalanche of 'NTA and also he’s abusing you’, which she agreed with, and decided to kick him out, so happy ending.)
Anyway I told my husband about this and he was outraged. “I would never do that!” he told me, furious. “I would find it adorable if you had bath snacks!”
Since then, every time I try to have a bath (which I only do as a rare treat) after about ten minutes there has been an anxious scrabbling at the bathroom door.
“Elanor!” he says. “Do you have bath snacks? Do you need anything?”
My answer is irrelevant. He brings me wine and poptarts. Now I have bath snacks. I’m a bath snacks person. Last time he was literally sleeping on the sofa when I went for the bath. Somehow this still happened. I now have an eager bathroom butler. How did this happen. I have never been so decadent yet bewildered.
some asshole: tries to control his wife by withholding bath snacks
op’s husband:
If someone ever tries to control what you eat, make exit plans IMMEDIATELY, and I am not kidding.
ALT
