You board a plane. It takes off smoothly. After some time at cruising altitude, the whole cabin starts buckling. You frantically return to your seat and strap in. The pilot's old man voice crackles onto the intercom. You briefly wonder if his yawning rasp is that of the grim reaper as he says...

"Ha ha, don't worry folks. That's just a tiny bit of turbulence. Happens sometimes. ETA for touchdown in San Diego is eh... an hour and twenty minutes".

Your plane lands as smoothly as it took off. The minute your luggage drops, you are out of that airport. That is actually the fastest you've ever gotten through an arrival process after landing. Goody!

Since you're earlier than you expected, you decide to hurry over to the San Diego zoo before they close on your first full day of vacation. Your cab driver drives like a maniac. He's very polite so you aren't comfortable about showing him you are angry about his dangerous driving but you are silently praying he doesn't make a fatal mistake.

You gain admission to the zoo shortly after arrival. Line ups for everything are light today. There aren't huge crowds around like usual. You're so lucky! You feel a capricious need to go exploring. You march happily in grassy areas, ignoring signs like "Keep Off Grass" and "Danger". What good is a guided pathway if you're just going to step where everyone has before? You thread between walkways, under bridges and wherever else you please.

You eventually need a bathroom so you start looking around for signs while wandering rather aimlessly. There seems to be a sign in the distance. Its back is to you. You squint and amble closer. A high fence catches you about your waist and you go tumbling head under heels down a short steep hill that you couldn't even get a grip on if you had razor sharp grappling hooks attached to your hands. The hill ends and you reach a dead drop that lands you in a grassy pit. You stumble to your feet, not feeling hurt.

A little girl points down at you as if you are an animal on display at this zoo. Pfft! How rude. You clear your throat but realize you are too low since your great fall and you would have to shout to be heard by the people watching you from above. Besides, that tiny girl is not pointing at you. You follow her gaze behind you. A full maned lion prowls behind your left shoulder. You feel his hot breath on your neck.

"ROOOOOAAAARRRRR!" You are standing in the middle of the limited territory zookeepers have allowed him to have and he is not happy with you. You are sure you are now screaming. Your throat is getting a workout, not that you can hear yourself in what could be your final moments. You wave your hands up in the air like a helpless child.

Twenty seven minutes later, keepers have retrieved you from the lion's den. Your hearing is starting to come back. They explain that the lion and his pride are trained by reward conditioning to know they get extra food rations if there is any person unknown to them in their den and they do not harm them. The lion would have been tempted to attack you anyway since you are a large mammal and in his territory. If you were deemed a threat to his dominance, he would have challenged you and swiftly won.

Turns out what you did was exactly right. Raising your hands up made you look as big as possible. Screaming hard enough to permanently damage your tortured vocal cords startled the lion enough to hesitate and reevaluate its natural instinct to rip you to shreds.

You hardly believe that you didn't wet your shorts back there. You guess those muscles tensed up and didn't let anything squirt loose. Every other part of you has gushed out sweat, made you damp and clammy while leaving your shorts relatively dry. You still need a bathroom, though.

You are exhausted. You just want to check into your sleeping quarters and pass out. You mosey through the front gate feeling on the verge of collapse. There is a click. A gun has been cocked, pointed at you from five meters away. Turns out your cab driver from earlier actually is a maniac.

He's been sitting in his cab in the parking lot since dropping you off. All this time he's been sitting there with his windows rolled down, stewing about how when you paid him you didn't leave him an extra tip for getting you here so quick. He feels a psychotic entitlement to his tips. He pridefully announces he's the fastest cabbie in all of San Diego. He's soooo nice too. He screams his laments loud enough to alarm passersby who hadn't noticed his gun yet. Help might be on its way soon.

He is now demanding an explanation for your cheapness from behind a snub-nosed pistol that you have resigned to hold out for hope is not loaded. A crazed look in his bulging eyes as he aims his gun carefully at your face tells you it probably is loaded.

If you were not so whelmed by that lion incident, you are sure you would have said something to appease this lunatic. Maybe if you offered him all your money he would spare your life[not too different from robbery but at least you would be all right].

Your muscles finally relax and not because you are calm. You are drained in more than one way. The driver lowers his maniacal leer down to your shorts. He tenses at seeing a wet patch appear and widen. "WHAT IS THAT?" he screams.

His yell is drowned out by his pistol going off. The pain is extreme. Your vision blurs. You dimly see him get tackled by staff security, his gun is taken away, he's zip-tied and held for police. Lights flash, blue and red. You black out before they get you on a stretcher.

-----

Morning sunlight tickles your face. You wake next day in hospital. Your bed in an isolated care unit is comfy. A cute doctor consults you about your injury before continuing her rounds. She says you are probably lucky to be alive. You were urinating at the point of impact. A distracted gunman looked down and was no longer aiming at anywhere vital. You try to get her to stay and flirt a bit but she looks back at you and laughs like you are crazier than that nutjob who shot you.

Alone, you check under the diaper bandage to get a look at the 'lower quandrant injury' she was alluding too. Foreboding doom descends on your mind as you confirm that you are indeed, half the man you used to be. That will almost assuredly inhibit your social behavior in any future interactions with... with... you start crying.

Check out day comes too soon. They don't keep you long since all bleeding has healed and you only lost one non-vital appendage. You trudge into the hospital parking lot, feeling unloved.

Just then, you feel cupid's arrow prickle your neck. You look around, wonder if any women are paying you any attention... ever again. You are completely alone.

That arrow really stings. You hear a buzz. Your throat is getting tight. A tempermental bee has just stung you in your adam's apple. You flick it away in a panic. Turns out you were unaware of this but you have recently become allergic to bee venom. Your windpipe is closing up. After you pass out, someone finds you. They alert the medical staff. They rush you back in and quickly find an intervention method to reverse your reaction.

For all their expertise, they are too late. Your body thrashes one last time and you flatline. It so happens getting cut down to half a mast is the least of your problems since your ship just sank due to lack of oxygen.


++++++


Meanwhile, I am sick. I am sleeping in late. I haven't cleaned my living space. Occasional paper or books here and there but mostly grubby clothes all over the floor. I hardly go outside anymore. Playing games on a phone or computer is usually the only thing I do with them. I woke up today like every day before it...



[[[[]]]]



P3







I'm sure you boys didn't just tag along so we could sing Kumbiya together at some boyscout bonfire, then again, maybe you did. - Leon Scott Kennedy

You finished fixing your car's transmission months ago. Your car has been running like a dream. This thought has stuck with you all this time. You ponder long hours into each night. What if you are dreaming and you can't wake up?

You are soon contacted by the human resistance. At your behest, they free you from the Matrix and you soon become a contributing member of Zionist society. It's not enough though. You want more. You earn approval to join militant efforts to defend Zion. Though you are a mere footsoldier, you figure you have as good a chance as anyone when Sentinels swarm your new community and you'll have weaponry to defend yourself.

Sadly, your closest comrades mourn your passing as you are one of the many casualties of a tense battle for survival before Neo manages to negotiate a long term halt to hostilities.

++++++

In an alternate reality, I am having a fistfight with Macho Man Randy Savage. My youthful speed gives me the upper hand but...



{{{{{}}}}}


P3

Heroic Academy Beats Local College

[[[]]]

Since nobody responded to Yoshirulez when I he made an earlier post, I'll honour the letters he chose by obliging the next person to use them.

E F D U Y








]]][[[

P3

I have never drank four bottles of pop in the same day. I did drink at least four "cans" of pop in one day. I'm quite certain that I overconsumed pop at some mostly forgotten point and when I did that, it would have been from cans. Some obliged social gathering where an iced up cooler full of soda pop in cans was provided abundantly at no charge. Never a doubt that I took advantage of that every time I saw an opportunity.

Never have I ever caught every available Pokémon in a Pokedex.

P3

Erm... Nope. I admin to nothing. I'm innocent.

The next poster is a robot from the future programmed to believe it is human and its true goal is to annihilate Vizzed.com from virtual existence.

This is because in the future, Vizzed provides an essential avenue for the salvation of humans on Earth. Robots will march on Vizzedians and The V will stand victorious over all robot kind.

P3

Ban exuberantly accepted. To clarify, I only hate yellow snow. It doesn't taste as good but I still eats it.


The next doofus to post is banned because I'm craaaazay!

Pot Of Greed was wished for, Pot Of Greed is granted. Uh oh. Wait? How could this be? Every other card in your deck has morphed into Swordsman from a Distant Land. I'm sorry. There's no predicting a game of chance. :'(


I wish for Ciri from Witcher to be real and her dearest desire is to snuggle up to me, playing little games with me under my bedcovers

First off, yay I made the list!

I situated each thread in a different forum. Popping one in the Underground was not the best choice. Anyone not signed in or lacking trust points would not have access. It's for the best those threads have a new home.

I've contributed by leading a few users on an amusing merry pursuit inexorably back here.

What I lack in creativity is abundantly compensated for by stunning layouts featured in each thread post.

If it's all right for one person to make a joke, it's more than all right for another to add to it.

You're right. You went kind of elaborate this year. Despite your efforts, it seemed from early responses that not everyone got the real joke. It's not about grammar at all. I got it though.


P3

I already am creative with my writing. My complex scenario skills in prose are sharp. I'll keep that over "acting as though I'm creative" without actually creating anything.

Even professional actors have to follow a script so they aren't the creative ones; writers are. Pro actors find that to be agreeable since they really just want attention from a moderate amount of people for playing make-believe. Kindergarten mentality.

Ha! That was a perfect question for me.

----

I now have to insert an intermission in my post to shout out to tbags123. You may want to rethink your most recent answer on here based on information you don't seem to be aware of yet.

I was on a soccer team where I felt like I was the worst player. Great soccer team. Didn't seem to have issues winning most games.

I always made my effort to contribute, ran fast enough to feel my breath rushing through my ear canals. For a pre-teen boy with no outstanding health issues, my lungs were in terrible shape.

I was treated like an outsider on every play. I could be wide open as the logical next person to pass to but my team would rather pass a direct interception than reveal how weak I was at handling the ball. Left alone in the scoring area, my team would rather not have a chance at scoring than give me a chance. This was not a strategy any coach would approve of. Even the Spaniard egotist coach from my first year in soccer who lost his temper a lot and was only interested in making his son a star wouldn't have told them to do that behind my back.

I don't know if the jerks on the team got everyone else to conspire against me or if it was just instinct because they'd all seen me trip all over the pitch in practice or else decided they just didn't like me gradually as one. The effect was the same. I was ostracized as the worsty on a team of potential champions.

Over multiple seasons, I actually gained a decent smidge of skill so I wasn't really a liability anymore but that did not change their behavior. I never got a chance. I always thought I would. Eventually, it became too much to bear so I did have to quit soccer.

It is the worst feeling I ever coped with long-term. The social isolation even as I endeavored heartily among my peers. It did not feel like I was included with any of the many wins. Sports teams were the worst environments for me to develop socially within. Even the dorkiest boys would look for extra ways to mock me.

----

Social life - vs - Fantasy Dream Job

Would the next poster rather have the coolest, most thrilling adventures as a star pilot in outer space with no furloughs at all for any kind of social life away from your duties & all your alien colleagues have slimy skin/smell weird and you don't want to get close to any of them plus all other aliens you meet in your travels are incompatible for interaction with you being the only human that far from planet Earth...
[I was going to say "star fighter pilot" because that thrills me but if you turn out to be a pacifist type of person, you can imagine being a peaceful pilot traveling with benign alien races in a pacific Milky Way galaxy and nonetheless have thrilling, cool adventures that keep you on your toes...]

or

you stay on Earth, take an ordinary job, get home early every day, pursue hobbies, hang with best buds and when life on Earth seems like it is the best it's ever been for you, a chance meeting introduces you to someone you're very attracted to. Your lives must be in sync because they really like you, they're single and would like to try dating. Your dates with them go very well. You establish a rapport that gives you both confidence that your feelings are mutual and you both know in your hearts that you want the same things in your lives. With a bright future directly ahead, a heartlock on a very compatible partner and a pretty easy way to make a living, is this what you really want?

For further additional information, please refer to this thread: https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=105399

Refer to this thread for more information: https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=105398

Refer to this thread for more information: https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=105397

Refer to this thread for more information:
https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=105396

Refer to this thread for more information: https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=105395

Refer to this thread for more information: https://www.vizzed.com/boards/thread.php?id=105382

Fancdew  :  That is good of you to share your feelings on the subject. Thank you very much.

  I ought to point out before I sign off that Eminem has made some rather racist-ish recordings. He has cursed out entire communities of people far less peculiar than the trannies. His voice did have an influence. Now that public sentiment has turned against what he is known for saying, he is rarely heard about.

 The greatest widespread effect Donald has had from just being recorded : talking that one time very lewdly about women. There were[still are] hateful, crass jerks all over the USA irreverently never giving women respect. The dawn of the day it became the "in" thing for people with hate- control problems to direct their ever-present hatred solely at the Donald, they started attempting a civil tongue so as not to be like the one they hated. Mister President is having an unexpected effect in reforming the behavior of horrible people so they may hate him more purely.

 Homework assignment : Please, "do" try this at home.

 Every single time something goes wrong in your personal life, acknowledge that it is definitely Donald Trump's fault that this drawback has befallen you. He's evil, right? Everybody says so. That makes all your problems his fault. It's not like your world experienced abjection before he won the presidential election so who else's agenda could have ruined your life, screwed up your day or made you feel enraged with your present situation?

 At the mere mention of DT, practice assuming a bad mood complete with glued on dour expression. He did this to you. Do not deny it.



 P3

  That's the true beauty of being female. You can say that you like women to loads of people and no one will freak. Women are seldom seen as the predators men can be. Even when women do have a history of predation and that is known to all present, the benefit of the doubt is usually tendered unconditionally. Judicial professionals get special training to cure that bias.

 Be up front about your preferences. Not something that everyone needs to know[it is your personal life, after all]. When you decide you really like someone with no Y-chromosome, that preference ought to become the very next thing they learn about you - immediately before asking without demanding anything or giving creepy-too-interested-eyes, if they might like you that way. Do not emphasize your needs or even a need to know her answer. Keep your voice soft and aim for sympathy. Even if they say nothing or just a no, don't be upset.

 Most importantly, do not drop away from friends and acquaintances you were interested in because they did not share your amorous interest. A network is your social arsenal. Keep in touch with people who say no but remain friendly. Dropping them the very moment they indicate no interest is terrible form. The best you can do is to respond calmly and congenially.

 I would have no friends if I adopted an aversion to everyone who had not wanted a romantic relationship with me. Keep being nice. The second they say no to you is the point from which they learn who you really are. So be who you have been. Consistent. You stop being nice after hearing no and they will see a second face reform under your brow. Be a single personality human being.

  P3

  It is always a mistake to ask someone for such a thing by text. It's highly impersonal. Meeting someone congenially is highly personal. There is an obvious status conflict between the interaction you chose and the interaction you want.

 Texting it was not even the first mistake. It couldn't have been. If someone was gasping with excitement every time they got correspondences from you, even a flimsy, impersonal text might pass mettle.

 Do you know how to flirt? Would you recognize it if someone was flirting with you?

 I am not entirely sure the instant crushes you keep having are being communicated to the subjects of your feelings. There are actually improvement courses you can take to work specifically on flirting. Get that point across that you like them that way is the main goal for communicating.

 P3

  Oh my .  Thank you for getting back to me on this .

 I will agree . That Eminem is some rude weirdo .  Trump polarizes people for political reasons, Eminem does it to sell records as he famously explains in his raps .

 P3