thank you so so much for sharing this. this video is so important to me. i would sell my laptop, my house, and my sister for this duck. this video has enlightened me. i can continue living knowing such a being exists. thank you.
“If the men find out we can shapeshift, they’re going to tell the church!“
i didnt learn anything about contouring but that’s okay
Do yourself a favour and watch this. I am sobbing with laughter at one a clock in the morning, i literally had to stop the video because I couldn’t see through my tears of mirth.
PRESS PLAY.
IF YOU DO NOT WATCH THIS
YOU ARE MISSING OUT
i still have no idea how to fuckin contour but there are much more important things for this person to teach you
My uncle once won first place in a lying contest, and I feel like this is a rare true story that needs to be told. So here it is.
My family, for as long as I can remember, has had these “adopted uncles” who are my mom and dad’s friends from college/highschool. There’s like five of them, and none of them are related to us. They are awesome, fun guys, and I’m best friends with their daughters (of the ones that have kids). I love hanging out with them, and when I do, I hear lots of hilarious stories that they and my Dad love to recollect whenever they’re together.
My uncles are interesting guys, and there are a lot of interesting stories. One of them is part of Switchfoot, one of them hung out with Taylor Swift on several occasions, and one worked on the Power Rangers. It’s all very interesting. But I think one of the funniest stories they’ve told me, far from meeting celebrities, or getting lost in the woods, or luring bears into their campsite (yep, they did that) is how one of them (let’s call him S) won a lying contest. This is how it went:
S and my dad, and some of his friends decided to go up into the mountains for a day. They drove up the winding roads, pine trees flashing past their windows, singing to Tom Petty the whole way. My dad and S have a great sense of humor, and I’m sure they were both in a laughable mood.
When they got to their destination, they saw a large banner over the road that read “Annual Lying Contest.” I kid you not. This little town in the piney mountains was so devoid of excitement that they legiterally hosted a Lying Contest every year.
My dad and S thought this was the FUNNIEST thing they had ever seen. They HAD to go watch the contest take place. They pulled into the parking lot, found their way to the stage, and asked someone about what was happening.
Apparently, the lying contest is an annual contest put on by the city, to see who had the most believable lie. Contestants would spend months coming up with elaborate lies, that were sure to convince people in the crowd. At the end, the judges would rank the lies on most convincing to least convincing. The winner of the contest recieved a home baked pie, and some other prize. Some of these lies could take fifteen minutes or more (remember this).
So anyways, S and my dad found a seat, and were ready to hear some lies. Later, my dad told me that it was hilarious to watch. There were lies about Bigfoot sightings, about bear wrestlings, army experiences, ghost hauntings, and more. My dad and S were cracking up the whole time, while marveling at how unique the demographic of the town was to enjoy something like this.
Finally, the last contestant stepped down from the stage after a 20 minute elaborate lie about an alien abduction. The judges took a sweeping look over the crowd, and spoke loudly into the microphone; “are there any other contestants?”
Before my dad could stop him, S stood up and raised his hand.
“Well, come up sir!”
S climbed the steps to the stage. He looked over the crowd seriously, and desperately tried to come up with a lie in time. His mind was blank. Empty. But S had no shame, and I’ve known him long enough to know this was 100% something he would do. The man throws himself into every awkward situation ever.
He took a step towards the microphone. His hands were clasped in front of him. He looked around at the people watching, the trees surrounding them, and said in his most serious voice into the mic;
“I was born a fish.”
That was it. The audience lost it. There was no build up, no elaborate detail, no story behind the lie. Just 1 ½ seconds, and he had told his entire lie. It was hilariously short, and there was no plot holes, or inconsistencies. Just purely, seriously, “I was born a fish.”
S left the stage in the midst of roaring laughter, as the audience, judges, and my dad tried to contain themselves. It was one of his proudest moments, that one second lie.
I’ve heard people on the internet complaining about this guy they seem to find really annoying, describing him as:
– fat – has a neckbeard – wears silly hats – is angry at the church – addresses women as My Lady and uses archaic flowery language – but is actually a raging misogynist underneath – who makes creepy advances in inappropriate settings
me to the demon in the corner of my room: ain’t u got shit to do
He’d been lurking about for days now, this shadow thing. It used to scare me, terrify me straight into insomnia. But it had just stood there the whole time. Now it seemed part of the furniture, if I’m being honest.
I started talking to it. Probably not my best idea, I’ll give you that, but it’s not like I had anyone else around. I would tell it about my day as I readied for bed. Jeff was a dick at the meeting this morning. Had the best hot dog off the best cart in the city for lunch. SIX reports due by Friday? Kellen must be trying to kill me. I even wished it good night. And it just stared, with its glowing red eyes.
One night, I had to stay late at the office. Really late. Remember those six reports? They turned into fifteen. And if I didn’t get them done for this major client, it was my head on the HR guillotine. So I stayed late. I ended up crashing on the sofa in the break room and woke up to more work on my desk. That was Thursday morning. I had to get this all done by Monday.
On Friday night, around ten, I decided to go home and get some real sleep before going back to the office to finish this insane task. And then I felt it. Something was here with me and it wasn’t the janitor.
I looked in the corner and there were those eyes again, surrounded by shadow. I sighed. I really didn’t have time for this, not here.
“Ain’t you got shit to do?” I snapped, walking to the break room for yet more coffee. So much for going home to sleep.
A growling sound, then a deep, rasping voice said, “I miss you.”
I stopped. “What do you mean, you miss me? Aren’t you a demon or something?”
“You didn’t come home. I’ve been worried. What are you doing here?”
We’d never conversed like this. It was almost comforting, like a friend would be.
“I’m working, man. I’ve got a big client coming on Monday and Kellen put all these damn reports on my desk and if I don’t get them done, I’m probably gonna get fired.” I ranted as I took off my tie and ran my fingers through my hair.
The demon paused, thinking. It moved slowly around the room, taking it all in.
“Do you want me to eat Kellen?” it suddenly asked.
I laughed, “No, don’t eat Kellen. It’s not really his fault.”
“Then what shall I do?”
I sighed and considered. What could a shadow demon do to help me?
“Do you know anything about graphic design and marketing?”
It paused its roaming. “I ate an artist’s soul, once.”
“Good enough. Just sit behind me and tell me what looks good.”
On Monday morning, the company landed the client, I got a raise, and arranged it so I could work from home two days a week. We moved to a bigger flat two months later. It makes cinnamon pancakes on Saturdays.
Plume de Lynx 