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So me (69m) and my friend (69m) were at waffle house (7300 Innerplan Dr, North Little Rock, Arkansas 72113-7645, US) and were discussing funerals (6-9k). I mentioned that since I will be attending his funeral (approx. 2032) that it would be impudent for him not to turn up to mine (approx. 2036). Long story short, this lead for him to swing a naughty haymaker (right) directly aiming for my jaw when I rapidly dodged and gave the cheeky cunt a swift uppercut (broken nose). He is now hospitalized (critical condition) and I am now currently evading law enforcement (on foot). My family (69f wife, 54m son, 69f wife) have been trying to contact me but I keep telling them if I ever see that punk again, I will give him a little combo (right hook, left hook, headbutt then roundhouse kick). If he is still moving I will stomp on his head until he is a little red smear on the bottom of my boot (black timberlands). I know I’m right but I feel as if I may have overreacted a tiny bit (not too much) AITA?

Item #: SCP-985-J Object Class: Euclid Special Contain Procedures: SCP-985-J must be kept in a standard humanoid containment cell decorated to look like an average American household with a live video feed. SCP-985-J must be fed BrainFluud once every 6 hours for sustenance. Personnel assigned to SCP-985-J must refrain from using the words "Short Streamer" "Late" "Loud Pee" and "Bald" as this can agitate SCP-985-J, causing it to enter an enraged state. SCP-985-J is allowed access to one (1) Garfield comic strip per day for entertainment. Description: SCP-985-J is a 32 year old Caucasian male from Boston, MA. SCP-985-J refers to itself as "Jeremy Elbertson" and believes itself to be much taller than it appears to others, referring to itself as being "not tiny" and "compact". SCP-985-J was discovered by the Foundation on ██/██/201█ when footage emerged of it attacking and killing [DATA EXPUNGED]. MTF Gamma-43 ("Anti-Jerms") was dispatched to secure the anomaly and all civilians who had viewed the footage were amnesticized.

There's no reason to have a Dad Bod when push ups exist. I'm always finding time to crank out a few p-ups. Ahh yep, I do maybe a thousand p-ups a day and I'm a father of two. Those nerds coloring with crayons? Time to squeeze in a few p-ups. Little dorks eating mac and cheese? It's p-up time. I'm like a leathered marble statue of a really muscular guy, my muscles are so tight and rugged. Hell, I took a p-up break while typing this comment. The ladies at work, these little work ladies, love when I crank out p-ups right there in front of them and come up off the floor red faced and with a sizeable bulge in my slacks. That bulge is unrelated to the p-ups, by the way, I'm just a guy who's always one hard nipple poking through a shirt away from a full meat platter. Hell, I'd cheat on my wife with one of these little work ladies if she wasn't one of the little work ladies I work with. We bone in the bathroom. I get jacked on p-ups and then we bone in the bathroom and there's nothing my boss can do about it because my vascularity is way too intimidating. I tell him he should do some p-ups if he wants to fuck my wife. It's the only way she gets that slizz juiced and loosed. She wants to see multitudinous p-ups and she wants to see those p-ups now! Whoops! Haha, okay, looks like she's watching me type this over my shoulder. Uh oh. See ya later, nerdbags. I'm gonna p-ups myself up to a full plumper and pump that honey ham rump of my little work lady wife.

Your release had increased so much that they could no longer contain you. Your cum has consumed the entirety of the cosmos. Humanity is without a shred of doubt, gone. You are alone in the universe. If there were aliens, they are dead now. It’s over. In despair, you mourn the death of the scientists, of humanity, of everyone. You realize you'll never hear her sweet and calming voice, see her proud body. Your sad. Your terrified. Chronicles pass. The last stars in the universe eclipse. You silently watch as the last atoms break into protons, into quarks, into mere beams of weak energy that disperse along the vertical ropes. But the ropes no longer play their docile music. They have gonne silent. You watch, helplessly, as the Last mozon is engulfed into the ever expanding plane of Cum. Your own creation destroys the very own universe, defying the own plan of existence. You are alone. You scream, but nothing comes out of your mouth. You cry, but nothing descends from your eyes. Do you even have eyes? All you can see is the torrid Instotucional white across the whole of the Universe. Entire Gans eclipse before your eyes, but then you realize the horror: The Cum turned against you. With nothing more to consume, your sons turned against their father, and begin to consume you. You tremble. There's nothing to do. The huge weight impacts you like if whole planets fell onto your shoulders. Your alone. In your last moments, a odd sentiment of peace invades you for the first time since the early days of the universe. It's finally gonna end. You think about all the people that you've met during your stay in this universe. In the end, you think about the researcher. About her arms. Her breasts. You feel... good. For the first time in many hipereons. You jack off it. It's so.... good, you come at the right time, freeing the constrained cum from your menber. You open your eyes, and behold the bathroom door. You are Ok. You remember everything. It's all over. You exit the bathroom after jacking off again, going back to your old life. The cum stops.

So me and my bros wanted to once and for all test the hypothesis that we are all living in a matrix. We came to the conclusion that a matrix could only run so smoothly because of our predictable behaviour. For example, if you eat it is likely that you swallow your food. Therefore, the matrix would be ready to initiate a digestion program. But if a group of people did something unpredictable, the matrix would shut down. So what we did is we randomly started gang banging each other. The matrix could have never predicted that because that is like super gay. But nothing happened (matrix-wise). But this is not point why am I writing about this. My friends now want to do the gang-banging shit again and I am not sure how to respond to that.

Roblox has taken over my sons life, I need someone here to help me, it started off pretty small, he told me he was into this game called Roblox. I looked it over, seemed nice. That was 5 years ago, now my son has locked himself inside his room, using a pile of roblox toy plastic to guard me from opening it. When he comes out (The 1 time he does a week) he carries 5 bottles of empty soda pop filled with human waste and empty bags of food and throws them away. He will not speak to me, and will not leave the house, only will play Roblox. I've tried it all, but he seems to find a way to play roblox. I tired killing the WiFi but he payed someone in robux to let him have his, so he has his own wifi source, and trying to take away his PC causes him to go into a fit of terror, where he'll scream "ROBLOX ESCAPE THE BOSSBABY RAINBOW OBBY FIGDET SPINNER" until he gets it back please someone tell me how I stop this. I've tried doing a thing I call "Good Robloxian Robux" where I give him Robux when he does good things, like come out of his room, or doesn't use more then 20+ hours of wifi a day but it only works so much please someone tell me how I can get my son back, I miss that boy, he's 25 now, and needs a job