HRTS Magazine by Jose R. Dubon

Written by everyone

August 2017 Designed by José R. Dubón

Written by everyone in the internet. For everyone in paper. From the heart

A magazine full of stories from the internet, all around the world, in an attempt to unit us and remember good and bad times. Encouraging the reader to learn about culture all around the world. Written by real people, with real stories. Raw and emotional paragraphs. Stories from the heart.

How A Story Can Start

This reminds me of my mom. My brother and I were raised in an essentially single parent home. My mom didn’t have much but always tried to make best with what she had. We had a friend who came from a much better off home.

That’s really sweet. Sounds like you have an awesome dad.

-pierre_escargot12

-irenezarate

My dad, though now very wealthy, was raised with nothing. As such, he thinks that “upscale” chains like Red Lobster, Cheesecake Factory, and Olive Garden are fancy. Our first family trip to NYC, he wanted to really knock our socks off with the finest opulence he could think of--dinner at the Times Square OG.

Outback steakhouse is what we thought was the finest things could get and our buddy would go out to eat there every week. My mom knew this and decided to take us there because we always talked about it and we wanted to have the best steaks in the world. I still remember that meal, fuck I’m getting choked up just thinking about it.

Our friends mother was a snooty bitch though. Even when I was younger I could tell she looked down on us and mom Because our mom wasn’t married to a ford manager and didn’t get a nice allowance from her husband. Anyway our friend would always talk about going out to eat at what we thought were amazing places.

So a few days or maybe a week later our friends mom came over and dropped off her son and the first fucking thing we told him was about our trip to outback, our friend was like “cool” but his bitch kept mother was like don’t get too excited son it’s just outback.

Of course she said that right in front of my mother knowing that was the best she could do. She stopped bringing him over shortly after that but we got the last laugh. In my early 20s I saw her again when I was working at a retail store while I was at school. Your mother sounds like an angel.

-scootypuffrepairman

-cascadeorca

She smugly asked “so what are you doing with your life now” thinking that this was the best I could ever do and I got to tell her that I just graduated nursing school and passed my nclex exam. Getting to see her stupid smug face turn to a nice shade of embarrassment red was one of the more satisfying experiences I’ve ever had. Fuck you Wendy

-Zoesauce23 Yea! Fuck Wendy 5

I should’ve just stayed home... When it’s two dudes smoking blunts and two dudes in the corner on their phones. And they turn to you and ask “Yo, where the girls at?” Good question. Where are the girls at? I’m not the one who described this party as “lit”.

-Andr3wski

Right?? Like why do you think I would be with a group of girls and that any of them would want ya’ll dusty asses?

-[deleted]

It’s not even that you have to have girls at a party to make it fun. I’m down for boys night. But people need to start accurately describing their parties from the first text so I know how much effort to put into this. Don’t oversell that shit. Real life isn’t The Secret where you wish something will be and that’s how it is. People need to realize that. Here’s how it always goes. ~10:30 pm. Alone in your boxers, one bowl deep, drinking shit beer, playing Assassin’s Creed 2 by yourself in the dark for the hundredth time because you’re too broke to get anything recent. Then you get the text. “hey u need to get over here this party bout to get lit”. Okay fine. Better than ending this night ashamed of what I just beat my meat to on RedTube. So you get your lazy ass up, take a shower, put on your one good shirt that you only wear out because it’s too flashy to wear on the reg but the hot sales chick said it looked good when you tried it on at Express For Men. Now it’s 11:15. You get an Uber ask the Uber guy to take you to the liquor store. Make small talk with the Uber guy and he probably makes some weird comment like “hey you getting them girls tonight? I bet you’re drowning in it, eh?” I mean, it’s like hopefully but I don’t want to bond with you at all and definitely not over this slightly misogynistic weirdness but then I’m just like “haha yeah” and give him five stars anyway because I don’t have time to face every injustice in the world every time I see one especially not when I’m half-baked.

Then you buy a bottle of liquor and a redbull, get back into the Uber. Make it to your boys apartment around 12 and then it’s this bull shit. Like if we were just going to smoke blunts and play 2k I would thrown on a pair of piss soaked sweats and a free “local college spirit week” t-shirt I got as a freshman and drank the half full plastic bottle of Popov I got for when the inner demons get too noisy. But now I did all this work, spent all this money and I’m still going to end the night ashamed of what I just beat my meat to on RedTube. Plus, thanks to that Redbull i drank in the hopes of staying awake long enough to sexually disappoint some girl I just met, now I get to lay awake thinking about all the shitty things I’ve done to the people who loved me most until I finally pass out at around 5am.

Worse, though, is that now it’s somehow my fault.

-Andr3wski

Today, I fucked up. A community for the dumbass in all of us. We all have those moments where we do something really stupid. Share your stories and laugh along with the internet.

TIFU by picking up a hitchhiker and then showing up to my own funeral. This happened a few years ago and I was living in Zimbabwe at the time, and I was having a pretty bad day, I was going to see my auntie who lived about 400km away from me. If youre african youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll understnad that this was no small journey. So I got in my car and set off and about 3 hours into the journey i came across a Dude by the side of the road who was going in the same direction, so out of the goodness of my heart i said jump in. we go to talking and he happened to be going to exact same village as me and he knew my auntie!

Half an hour passes and we’re making polite chit chat and reminiscing about old times in zimbabwe, when all of a sudden he tell me to pull over, so I do. he runs out of the car and starts making wretching noises, so i assume he’s throwing up, its dark at this point so i cant really see much, so i go check on him (first mistake). I get out and go to his side expecting him to be there but he’s not.....Then I hear someone behind and me and before i know it im unconcious! so I wake up a couple hours later(I know this becuase the sun was coming up at this point) without my car, clothes or wallet. So im thinking great. I look around and see im on some farmland wearing the guys clothes. So I start walking in no particular direction and eventually come across a settlement. I explain to them my situation and they tell me that the nearest main road is at least a good half a days walk from where I am and they dont get many cars coming through this part but they heard one last night (which might be our thief). I start walking in the direction they point me in and after what felt like forever I come across a road, so I pitch up and start waiting, (now I know most of you are thinking why not call someone, i had no phone with me and I dont have the best memory so I didnt know any numbers that would come in handy). After a couple of hours a car stops and lets me hitch I let him know the situaion and he says we’re in the complete opposite direction of my intended destination but he’s willing to drop me close enough to walk the rest of the way to which I thought great!

Its takes a good two days to get there and he drops me off and I say my goodbyes to my driver, I take down his number so i can repay him later on. At this point im starting to recoginise my surroundings, I walk for a few miles and as im getting closer to my aunties I can here a lots of singing and what appears to be a large crowd which I though was strange. I’m about 100 feet from the house and I see my Son which again I thought was strange because he was meant to be in school at this time, but instead of running to me and hugging me as he normally does... He runs away screaming to my complete bewilderment. I get to the the gate and all of a sudden the large crowd alerted by my sons scream has stopped singing and is stood silent. My wife appears and starts to run towards me hugging and kissing me like Ive been gone for months. My auntie appears and immediately faints when she sees me. I still have no clue whats going on at this point and im exhausted, so we rush to get my auntie inside and I see my picture on top of a large box that resembles a coffin sitting in the living room.... So it turns out that the guy who robbed me and made off with my car my wallet and all my clothes was in a car crash so bad that they couldnt identify the body and because the only things they could use to identify him was my wallet, they assumed it was me that had died in the crash. since there was no body of sorts they could arrange the funeral preety quickly and that is what I had stumbled upon. My son still has nightmares to this day and and my wife has told me never to pick up a hitch hiker ever again.

-Kingvim 9

Got divorced lost my job,

so me and my buddy got on our motorcycles and rode North to the Alaskan Arctic until the road ran out. 11

We departed. From San Francisco with some seriously loaded bikes.

Atigun Pass in the Arctic northernmost region of Alaska. The view at our destination, over 5,000 miles since we departed home. 12

Canada!

Vancouver was kickass Our first time in Canada proper.

We made friends

Who invited us along on a massive illegal bicycle rave.

We camped For a night with our new Alaskan friends and then rode up further North. We had an Arctic Circle to reach!

We were too freezing and cold to be excited. In the distance is the final human outpost before the Arctic Ocean: the Prudhoe Bay oil field and Deadhorse outpost.

We made it! 16

The road was, predictably, just barely a road. But as we came close to the pass, we remembered why we went on this ride.

The most beautiful place on Earth I have ever been. Breath-taking light.

-caliform 17

What is the laziest thing you’ve ever done? I was once on a US military ship, having breakfast in the wardroom (officers lounge) when the Operations Officer (OPS) walks in. This guy was the definition of NOT a morning person; he’s still half asleep, bleary eyed... basically a zombie with a bagel. He sits down across from me to eat his bagel and is just barely conscious. My back is to the outboard side of the ship, and the morning sun is blazing in one of the portholes putting a big bright-ass circle of light right on his barely conscious face. He’s squinting and chewing and basically just remembering how to be alive for today.

And then, ever so slowly, I realize that that big blazing spot of sun has begun to slide off the zombie’s face and onto the wall behind him. After a moment it clears his face and he blinks slowly a few times and the brilliant beauty of what I’ve just witnessed begins to overwhelm me. By ordering the bridge to adjust the ship’s back-and-forth patrol by about 15 degrees, he’s changed our course just enough to reposition the sun off of his face. He’s literally just redirected thousands of tons of steel and hundreds of people so that he could get the sun out of his eyes while he eats his bagel. I am in awe.

It’s painful to watch.

He slowly picks up his bagel and for a moment I’m terrified at the thought that his own genius may escape him, that he may never appreciate the epic brilliance of his laziness (since he’s not going to wake up for another hour). But between his next bites he pauses, looks at me, and gives me the faintest, sly grin, before returning to gnaw slowly on his zombie bagel.

But then zombie-OPS stops chewing, slowly picks up the phone, and dials the bridge. In his well-known I’m-still-totally-asleep voice, he says “heeeey. It’s OPS. Could you... shift our barpat... yeah, one six five. Thanks.” And puts the phone down. And then he just sits there. Squinting. Waiting.

Depressing Pixar film A teenage boy and his girlfriend. They are happy and very in love, but tragedy strikes; the boy gets drunk at a party, drives home with her, gets in an accident, and she is killed. He feels horrible, naturally. But the girl isn’t gone; she returns to the world as a ghost, not willing to pass on and be without her love. Unfortunately, he can neither see or hear her. She can whisper things in his ear and be perceived subconsciously, move small objects when he isn’t looking, but never make her presence really known. For a while she is content to simply follow him around and comfort him as best she can. It even seems she may be having a positive effect; she is able to subtly influence him to quit drinking, clean up his act, and turn his life around. All seems well in a bittersweet way.

Things start to change as time passes. The boy gets older, the ghost does not. He starts to move past her death, no longer gazing longingly at the pictures of them together, not visiting her grave as much. While the ghost wants to see him happy, she is miserable that she is being forgotten, as she is unchanging and still feels love for him. A few years pass, and the now young adult man starts dating other women. The ghost is upset and jealous. She starts to sabotage his dates, causing little accidents, using her ability to be subconsciously heard to make him say awkward things, basically being a bitch and ruining the young man’s relationships. Unable to find happiness, the young man begins to backslide. He starts drinking again, he gets in fights, he loses his job. His life is turning to shit. Ghost girl feels terrible...until one night the man takes too many sleeping pills and almost dies. A horrible plan occurs to her; if he commits suicide then he’ll be dead too and they can finally be together.

She starts to egg him on to more and more self-destructive acts, whispering poisonous thoughts in his ear, trying to make him hate himself. He shuts out family and friends. He buys a gun and doesn’t really know why. The girl hates to do this, but it’s the only way...

She rushes back to the man, who is moments away from shooting himself. She begs him not to go through with it, pleads and cries, but is unheard. Eventually she is just barely able to direct his attention to the neglected photos of them together as happy teenagers and he puts the gun down, picks up the phone, and calls a suicide hotline.

Throughout the film, we’ve seen other people haunted by ghosts. At first this seems harmless; there’s a man whose father still follows him and gives advice. A mother who lost her daughter, but the girl still walks around holding her hand. The spirit of a young boy’s dog still romps behind him. These ghosts can see each other, and are the typical Pixar cast of quirky side characters.

Man enters therapy, joins a group to quit drinking again, takes medication. It’s long and hard but he makes it. The girl is happy, but she seems to be fading slowly as the months pass. She thinks she might be finally letting go and crossing over, her reward for having saved him. Eventually she departs with a smile.

At last the young man seems to hit rock bottom and is ready to end it all. Not wanting to watch her love die, the ghost departs to leave him to it. She heads to the park, and sees some of the other people with ghosts. But now she notices things she hasn’t before. The ghostly father’s advice, always critical, seems downright abusive, constantly berating his son for his failure and inadequacy, and the son looks miserable. The little girl’s mother can’t look at a child playing without tearing up. The ghost dog is gone, however, and the now older boy has a new pet and is happy. The girl realizes that what she is doing is wrong.

Twist ending: There was no ghost. That was his guilt and depression personified. It was always his own subconscious, the part of him that hated and blamed himself for the girl’s death. Sure, the guilt drove him to quit drinking once, but the fact that he couldn’t move on drove him into ever deeper despair. All the people with “ghosts” are the same way, haunted by their pasts. Last shot is him walking down the street, content, but as we zoom out we see just how many of the people around him have ghosts, and how widespread the problem is.

Google: How to humanely deliver dogs via mail Basically find an airline company that ships canines. Contact them. Pay the enormous fee and pick your pupper up at the airport.

-e-s-p

Highly inadvisable. Especially in the summer months. Many many pet deaths via airline carriage. Due to baggage / shipping volume, they just basically donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have time to give a shit about leaving a dog on the tarmac to roast to death.

-bozoconnors

Trucker here who deals with the airlines on a regular basis. DO NOT SHIP PETS VIA LEGACY AIR CARRIERS. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s an extremely traumatic and very expensive process both for the dog and owner/soon to be owner. I have personally been in the freight terminal when animals have arrived, dead, because the plane was delayed for hours, the weather, the sheer stress of traveling, or the processing/handling of animals during transit. Despite what the airlines claim, animals are handled in much the same way as any other air freight. They will be processed through a cargo facility, put on a luggage tug and manhandled in their carriers into the underbelly of an airliner where they will live for the duration of their trip. For intercontinental trips that are only an hour or two long, this MIGHT be okay. Anything more than that, there are other options that are much more preferable.

-Ken-the-pilot 21

Stories from the heart.

What is the nicest thing you’ve ever done that no one knows about? I was day tripping to Vancouver from Seattle and stopped in for lunch at a little cafe. From my window I saw a young teenage girl out in the cold, squatted down in a closed up businesses doorway, holding a small bundle in her arms. She was panhandling, people were mostly walking by ignoring her. She looked just broken. I finished up my meal and went outside, went through my wallet and thought I’d give her $5 for some food. I got up to her and she was sobbing, she looked like she was 14-15. And that bundle in her arms was a baby wrapped up. I felt like I just got punched in the chest. 24

She looked up putting on a game face and asked for any change, I asked her if she’s like some lunch. Right next door was a small quick-Trip type grocery store, I got a can of formula for the baby (very young, maybe 2-3 months old.), and took her back to the cafe though I’d just eaten. She was very thankful, got a burger and just inhaled it. Got her some pie and ice cream. She opened up and we talked. She was 15, got pregnant, parents were angry and she was fighting with them. She ran away. She’s been gone almost 1 full year.

I asked her if she’s like to go home and she got silent. I coaxed her, she said her parents wouldn’t want her back. I coaxed further, she admitted she stole 5k in cash from her Dad. Turns out 5k doesn’t last long at all and the streets are tough on a 15 year old. Very tough. She did want to go back, but she was afraid no one wanted her back after what she did. We talked more, I wanted her to use my phone to call home but she wouldn’t. I told her I’d call and see if her folks wanted to talk to her, she hesitated and gave bad excuses but eventually agreed. She dialed the number and I took the phone, her Mom picked up and I said hello. Awkwardly introduced myself and said her daughter would like to speak to her, silence, and I heard crying. Gave the phone to the girl and she was just quiet listening to her Mom cry, and then said hello. And she cried. They talked, she gave the phone back to me, I talked to her Mom some more. I drove her down to the bus station and bought her a bus ticket home. Gave her $100 cash for incidentals, and some formula, diapers, wipes, snacks for the road. Got to the bus, and she just cried saying thank you over and over. I gave her a kiss on the forehead and a hug, kissed her baby, and she got on the bus. I get a chistmas card every year from her. She’s 21 now and in college. Her name is Makayla and her baby was Joe. I’ve never really told anyone about this. I just feel good knowing I did something good in this world. Maybe it’ll make up for the things I’ve f-ed up.

-[deleted] 25

What’s your secret that could literally ruin your life if it came out? [Background, I’m a guy in my late 20s who was taken into care aged 7.] Everyone around me already knows that I was brought up by foster families because I had a shit early childhood. I deliberately keep it vague and say stuff like “I’d rather not go into it” so that people will just assume I was abused in some way and they’ll stop asking about it.

The truth is that for the first 7 years of my life, I was brought up as a girl by my pshyco birth mother who really really really wanted a daughter and didn’t let the snag of giving birth to a boy stop her from trying to raise one. She was a pretty successful professional in a legal field (not entirely sure what) and had me via anonymous sperm donor from a fertility clinic. She found out i was a boy at a late ultrasound and then moved across the country.

Gave birth to me at home and continued to move about until I was 5 or so. It was just the two of us all my life, we had contact with other people, of course, but they rarely got very close. I had lots of friends, but was always supervised. I found out way way after that my mother’s strong puritanical christianity was a lie she used to explain why she was so strict about me being ‘private’ and never letting anyone see me get changed or anything. I just acccepted all of this as fact, having never been told anything different.

I was sent to a religious school for girls and had a really great childhood. I was a bit of a tomboy, and played with lego and toy animals, rather than dolls and stuff, but that’s not unusual and no one ever questioned I was a girl - even me. Iknew about men and women, but had never really seen much of naked people. my mother never ever spoke to me about it, but i kinda had the impression that when I grew up and got boobs and stuff, my dick would kinda fall off or something and I would be a woman, and other kids would keep their dicks and they’d be men. I dunno, to be honest, I never really thought about it. Anyway, I carried on with my happy girlhood, and had a bunch of friends and everything was great until i was 7 and a teacher accidentally spilled a cup of hot coffee over me at school. the liquid soaked through my clothes and was scalding me so the staff immediately stripped me out of my dress and underwar to get the hot coffee away from my skin. And then they found out.

The cops were called and i got taken to speak with who i guess would be Social Services. they asked me a bunch of questions about life at home and stuff. meanwhile, my mother was taken in for questioning too. she refused to acknowledge me as male and insisted i was her daughter. because she was, y’know, delusional and stuff, i wasn’t allowed to go back home but got put with a foster family and went through loads of therapy and stuff.

The worst part was that literally overnight, I lost EVERYTHING my mother, my home, all my toys, all my clothes, I moved school so lost all my friends, they cut all my hair off and told me I wasn’t a girl any more. it was really really traumatic. The first forster home wasn’t that great. they had three boys already and going from a sheltered ‘releigious’ only-child upbringing to a rough-and-tumble testosterone-filled environment was really difficult. They tried to force me to masculine and I was just too confused about what they wanted. Anything ‘girly’ was reprimanded and I felt so lost and alone because nothing I did was right. I tried to commit suicide when i was 11 and again at 13 becuase I didn’t feel i fitted in anywhere. After the second attempt, they moved me to a different foster family who were awesome. I consider them to be my parents. they actually stood up for me, the first thing was that they et me grow my hair. from when i got taken into care, they buzzed my hair short, and I hated it. They always had to hold me down and do it forcably while i was crying and fighting. My new parents flatly refused to do it and said that loads of boys had long hair. They also let me quit karate and football and take up swimming and jazz dance. Since I’d been in care, no one had ever stood up for my right to choose what activities to do, or how to dress before. It was amazing. In the end, I came out of it with a pretty healthy gender identity (I’m a guy, but not th emost butch guy ever, but i’m fine with that), I went through school and got my degree and have a pretty good job and an amazing, supportive wife. Everything looks great.

-ABCH 27

A quote written by my aunt before her premature death Life has no smooth road for any us. As we go down it, we need to remember that happiness is a talent we develop, not an object we seek. Itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s the ability to bounce back from lifeâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s inevitable setbacks. Some people are crushed by misfortune. Others grow because of it.

-SerotoninSkies

Another life

My last semester at a certain college I was assulted by a football player for walking where he was trying to drive (note he was 325lbs I was 120lbs), while unconscious on the ground I lived a different life. I met a wonderful young lady, she made my heart skip and my face red, I pursued her for months and dispatched a few jerk boyfriends before I finally won her over, after two years we got married and almost immediately she bore me a daughter. I had a great job and my wife didn’t have to work outside of the house, when my daughter was two she [my wife] bore me a son. My son was the joy of my life, I would walk into his room every morning before I left for work and doted on him and my daughter. One day while sitting on the couch I noticed that the perspective of the lamp was odd, like inverted. It was still in 3D but... just.. wrong. (It was a square lamp base, red with gold trim on 4 legs and a white square shade). I was transfixed, I couldn’t look away from it. I stayed up all night staring at it, the next morning I didn’t go to work, something was just not right about that lamp.

I stopped eating, I left the couch only to use the bathroom at first, soon I stopped that too as I wasn’t eating or drinking. I stared at the fucking lamp for 3 days before my wife got really worried, she had someone come and try to talk to me, by this time my cognizance was breaking up and my wife was freaking out. She took the kids to her mother’s house just before I had my epiphany.... the lamp is not real.... the house is not real, my wife, my kids... none of that is real... the last 10 years of my life are not fucking real! The lamp started to grow wider and deeper, it was still inverted dimensions, it took up my entire perspective and all I could see was red, I heard voices, screams, all kinds of weird noises and I became aware of pain.... a fucking shit ton of pain... the first words I said were “I’m missing teeth” and opened my eyes. I was laying on my back on the sidewalk surrounded by people that I didn’t know, lots were freaking out, I was completely confused. at some point a cop scooped me up, dragged/walked me across the sidewalk and grass and threw me face down in the back of a cop car, I was still confused. I was taken to the hospital by the cop (seems he didn’t want to wait for the ambulance to arrive) and give CT scans and shit.. I went through about 3 years of horrid depression, I was grieving the loss of my wife and children and dealing with the knowledge that they never existed, I was scared that I was going insane as I would cry myself to sleep hoping I would see her in my dreams. I never have, but sometimes I see my son, usually just a glimpse out of my peripheral vision, he is perpetually 5 years old and I can never hear what he says.

-flecxedn

The American Nightmare He was born and they called him a mistake, parents fought, split and they called him the reason, mother called him “it” and father didn’t call on him no more.

Middle aged now he tried to work again, but poor social skills left him unwanted. Now Politicians and pundits called him a parasite, a leech on the system.

School came around, he struggled and stammered and the kids called him weird, then they called him names, then they hit. Teachers called it “boys will be boys”.

Sickness came and they called it pre-existing, not covered, his finances drained he became destitute and they called him lazy, a bum.

Trying to fit in they called him pathetic, so he grew up without them, and they called him a loser. When he looked at girls they called him ugly, then puberty hit and he was a “creep”.

Cold, alone and forgotten depression set in deep and they called him a burden, not in my back yard. Without hope he finally took the only thing left he wanted to, his life, and they called him a coward.

Demoralised his studies suffered, high school rang out and they called him a disappointment, he found a low paying menial job and they called him a failure. Years went by, now they called him an outcast, his company downsized and laid him off, not a “team player” they said and called him expendable. Middle aged now he tried to work again, but poor social skills left him unwanted. Now Politicians and pundits called him a parasite, a leech on the system.

-xhaze

Suicide

I had everything planned out when the day came. My room was neat and a note was left on the kitchen table. My parents would be home from work soon. I made one last post on facebook explaining what I intended to do, where, and why. Sent a few last texts to friends apologizing and thanking them. Then I went to the bridge. I sat on the rail for an hour. No one came.

-hostushostilius

-Bhruic

Don’t talk yourself out of doing things you want to do. Don’t let fear win. If you want to vacation in Europe, do it. If you want to talk to that hot girl/guy at the bar, do it. If you want to start your own business, do it (and do the research first). Getting to your 30s and having a string of regrets is going to haunt you.

Figure out who you are, and learn to love yourself. You’ll be able to handle whatever else happens after that.

-Rohri_Calhoun

Don’t burn your bridges. Personal, work, whatever. There will be times when you will need to be amiable with people from the past for various reasons and the last thing you need is someone saying “Fuck that guy” because of something petty or stupid that could have easily been avoided.

Do not spend one more minute of your life with someone who makes you feel like you are less than you are ... he or she will never change for the better and you might just change for the worse. If you have siblings, get to know them as adults, because no one else will ever understand exactly what it was like to grow up in your house hold.

-Rohri_Calhoun

Build upon friendships. There is more to life than going out every night. Stay at home with close friends. Go on adventures together. That being said, don’t be afraid to end some friendships. Fair weather friends are not worth your time. Stay loyal to those that truly matter and invest your time with them. Call your family. Stay in touch as often as you can. Go to them for advice. Save money. Make sure you have a retirement plan in place. Try and put away a certain amount of money each paycheck for your own personal savings.

-hstrygeek1

-rubyfisch

People always look at going to school like a prison sentence. Why? You’re still living, challenging yourself, making friends. It’s a nice time. Don’t get into the habit of “waiting until I’m done with school” or “waiting to get a better job” or “waiting to buy a house” to live your life. You’re alive now! Just enjoy your situation as is.

-homie_jesus

-Romanticon

Relationships. In particular, don’t rush into marriage. Remember, you’ve got a lot that you still want to do - is this person on the same page? Do they also like travel, or kids, or share your deepest dream of buying a cabin and living off the land like a chubbier Ron Swanson? Remember, people generally don’t change. If your SO isn’t the right one, you’ve got time to keep searching.

-techniforus

Forgive yourself. Kicking yourself over past failures won’t change what happened, it will just leave you sore from being kicked so much. Give up all hope for a better past. Own who you have been so it doesn’t own you.

Advice would you give to a person that wants to make the most of their 20s so they have minimal regrets when they turn 30? It’s just as easy to meet the right person at the wrong time as it is to meet the wrong person at the right time. You might set out to save the world, but it’s okay to save one person. It’s also okay if that person is you. Become aware that every person around you is fighting a secret battle you may never know anything about. Only being nice to people who can return the favor doesn’t make you a nice person.

-HolySimon

Toronto Streetwear Meetup LOFT PARTY 34

So the toronto squa rented this loft out and partied for Bernie.

SHOUTOUT the hosts: @maxholio @william.scarth

wow you guys actually know how to dress

-[deleted]

The Toronto Streetwear meet up was crazy dope! Everyone seemed to have a bless time! Mandem were running Smash Bros. (ALMOST undefeated eh) and beer pong in the back, music was bumping, and the vibes were super chill. S/O to everyone that reached out! This was my first time at a meet up and it was super dope! S/O to the mandem with the bud, helped me go straight in on the photos LOL.

-SupremeBlackGuy

Wish Vancouver was this lit :(

-relevantusernames 39

This looks fucking dope, sad I couldn’t make it. Hopefully I’ll be at the next meet up! P.S. I’ll fuck up all yall in smash

-KrusHy_

MEET FRANK 44

Everyone meet Frank. Frank is 40lb snapping turtle that wandered into a community where he did not belong. Frank needed to be escorted back to his local pond where he couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t go all snappity snap on anyone (or cute puppies) so my friend and i jumped into action. Within about 2 minutes it was pretty apparent that Frank is a gigantic fucking asshole.

Here we see Frank gettinâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; all high and mighty trying to run the fuck away from us and get to the nearest basket of puppies that he could then chompity chomp simply because he is a giant fuck. Let me tell you something Frank, your dreams of being a Godzilla like terror on humanity are fucking over. You picked the wrong town Frank, you picked the wrong fucking town. Not like Frank was gonna make it easy on me though. I swear to god this bastard just about hissed and shit everywhere before we got him to calm the fuck down. Jesus Frank.

Frank then realized he was fucked so instead of cooperating and getting a free ride back to his pond OH NO.

Frank here decides he is five fucking years old and he sits the fuck down and goes limp. Honestly Frank grow the fuck up. You think other turtles are acting like this at your age Frank, no. Frank here probably thought at this point we weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re unqualified to deal with a shelled prehistoric asswipe but his ass was wrong. So wrong.

WE FUCKING LASSOâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;D THE SHIT OUTTA YOU FRANK.

Needless to say Frank was pretty fucking upset about the whole ordeal and bitched the entire ten minute walk back to Casa De Frank. and just when i thought my life was gonna get just a little bit easier, Frank goes and torpedo shotgun pisses all over my foot. Fuck you Frank. Thats low even for you, you pancake shelled dickweed.

Long story short we got Frank back home and saved the entire town. Frank was not hurt, and we treated the whole situation with care BECAUSE Iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;M A BIGGER MORE MATURE PERSON THAN YOU FRANK YOU SON OF A BITCH.