Worst You've Been Called

pippoman

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I once was driving on an unfamiliar street that abruptly went from 2 lanes to one lane. I had to get over, so I checked my rear view and side mirrors and didn’t see anyone. As I started to change lanes I saw there was someone in my blind spot, so I quickly braked and moved back to my lane. As the lady (?) was pulling around, she was shaking her middle finger at me and I saw her lips flapping. Hmmm, I think she called me a bad name; just a hunch. I was waving my hand apologetically, then she pulled in front of me and slammed on her brakes, so I pulled over to give us some girth. I wonder what I was called that day; I hope I don’t live up to whatever it was!
 
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soundchaser59

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Comes with the territory I guess when you walk around in Abysmal Lord and Eyehategod shirts.
Well, there is one redeeming irony there........ you have to believe in God to hate God, or to be a Satanist for that matter.

I had to read this to understand why they are so worthy of adoration as to warrant free advertising on clothing. Might as well get extra shirts for the kids.

 

soundchaser59

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Or rather, the worst you've been called when stuff was 100% not your fault.

I have been called plenty worse by better people than what happened this morning during a business group meeting we were hosting. But, the way it was delivered made me think it was pretty bad in the guy's mind. This was all about an old timer (we'll call him Statler & Waldorf), a wireless microphone, and his inability to implement instructions in front of a group of peers.

My wireless inventory is exclusively Audix because they are local & they treat us very well. Not a snob, there are better capsules (I use Heil RC35 capsules on many, but not all, of them), but I do love their H60 stuff as a wireless platform. In my environment, they are rock solid...and affordable. It operates with a single button: press on, press mute/unmute, press & hold to turn it off.

So the oldster says he has something to say & the leader hands him a hand mic, which was in standby, and tells him to press the button to turn it on. Instead, he executes a flawless press & hold which turns the unit off, and begins to speak. "This thing's broken, obviously junk". Then, it was unsolicited suggestions from the peanut gallery, of course which none worked except to annoy him. "Turn it on". "I did". "No, something's wrong".

I approach the guy and offer to help & he thrusts the mic in my hands. The dark display means only one thing, so I turn it on & wait the 3 seconds to let it go live, then hand it back, saying only "you should be fine now".

He asks what I did, & I replied that "it looks like you inadvertently turned it off". Then he pops off out of the blue with "I suppose you think you're smarter than me, you goddam long haired rock hippie". And then I burst out laughing because it was so darn funny and so not my fault. I always treat my clients with respect, but not required to take their abuse.

Besides, anyone who knows me knows that I'm a goddam long haired blues hippie!
I'm sorry to hear that kind of nasty crap is tolerated in a professional business environment.
 

Nogoodnamesleft

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Irish mum. Even worse, from Northern Ireland so the UK ‘discipline by shame’ school of parenting added to it. A lot of things that would get me suspended from this place.
 

Doomguy

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Well, there is one redeeming irony there........ you have to believe in God to hate God, or to be a Satanist for that matter.

I had to read this to understand why they are so worthy of adoration as to warrant free advertising on clothing. Might as well get extra shirts for the kids.

EHG has never really made a true statement or song on religion of any kind. They chose the name to be controversial, attract eyeballs. It's hard enough to get an audience of any kind when you play music like theirs.

It's a good thing no one's forcing you to wear an EHG shirt then! I don't wear an EHG shirt, or a shirt for any band, for anyone else but me. And it helps support a band I enjoy.
 

outtenbucks

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Oh man here’s a one I still think about 15+ years later.

Me and my buddy were pulling into a gas station, right after rehearsal. We pulled amid the street and into the station, and another guy was pulling out, perpendicular to us. Neither of us were in each other’s way or anything, but he stuck his angry face out the window and shouted directly at us: “THANKS A LOT, F%+%*<€\~!!”

To this day, neither of us know what word he called us, it sounded like “Phineas” or “filliose” but that wouldn’t make sense. No word we can think of matches what we heard.

All we are left with is the feeling that we were categorized as something SO bad that we couldn’t even know what it was.
 

telemnemonics

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EHG has never really made a true statement or song on religion of any kind. They chose the name to be controversial, attract eyeballs. It's hard enough to get an audience of any kind when you play music like theirs.

It's a good thing no one's forcing you to wear an EHG shirt then! I don't wear an EHG shirt, or a shirt for any band, for anyone else but me. And it helps support a band I enjoy.
Band name alert:

Clickbait and the Trolls
 

brookdalebill

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A dear friend, sometimes bandmate, music educator, and multi-instrumentalist described me thusly:
“You’re so Country!”
It kinda hurts, but it’s also probably true.
The think of myself as versatile, capable and cooperative.
I have played in wedding, R&B, rock, lounge and country bands.
BUT, big but, I have played mostly country in the last 50 years.
Sigh.
Another illusion busted.:twisted:
 

mad dog

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4 years driving a taxi in NYC - with rather bright, very long blond hair - put me in the way of endless abuse. Bad at the beginning especially, before I really learned all the out of the way neighborhoods. I was constantly getting cursed out, called every flavor of "stupid", in a variety of languages with creative profanity. The funniest ones were the women who were clearly (and quite loudly) pissed that my hair was way prettier than theirs. Many times I heard "I hate you!!", and they weren't kidding. One lady punctuated that by reaching through the plexi screen, grabbing my pony tail and slamming my head back hard. That little s__head scampered out while I was looking for a cop ...
 

Fiesta Red

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My older brother doesn’t like me.

He has volumes of reasons why he doesn’t like me, most of which don’t really stand up to any kind of scrutiny.

Much of his vitriol comes from me not following him and doing his bidding at every turn, and my wife similarly not accepting his wife’s bullying behavior.

When I politely rebuff his Latest Reason for disliking me, he just sputters and throws another invective, hoping I’ll get mad.

He also insists that we have conversations “to clear the air,” which means he will vent his reasons for disliking me, some of which cover everything I’ve done wrong since 1970, and some of which just cover the previous five days (his choice).

Years ago, when I was in my teens/early twenties, these confrontations would often turn physical, which he prefers because he is less articulate and physically bigger, which tops the scales in his favor.

I stopped losing my temper in my twenties, afraid that I would hurt someone (I very nearly hurt a man, and had things gone wrong could have killed him), which makes him dislike me even more, because he can’t control his temper.

I quit drinking in 1998, which makes him mistrust me further.

I finally quit absorbing his anger, insults and threats three years ago, which just makes him dislike me more.

Anyway, during our second-to-last interaction (a little more than two years ago), he told me that I was a selfish, miserly [illegitimate child] because I was putting my family’s financial health and goals ahead of his various get-rich-quick get-ripped-off-quick schemes.

I gently pointed out the flaws in the latest scheme (mainly, the untrustworthy characters who were running the show and his poor track record on such investments).

He opined that I didn’t have faith in my fellowman, and then reiterated that I was a tightwad and I often acted like a(n) [illegitimate child]. (This statement was somehow supposed to endear him to me and influence my faith in his scheme).

I calmly asked him if he thought I was a tightwad (1) because I lived within my means, or (2) because I’d never lost a home (twice), multiple vehicles (four) and had to declare bankruptcy (twice), or (3) because I’m able to have my own home and not live in our parents’ garage apartment?
(Yes, I know that last one was kind of a low blow, but he put himself on that position, and bullied my parents into allowing it—they didn’t want him living back there).

At this point, his head was about to explode, and he just called me a stupid [illegitimate child].

I decided to end the conversation once and for all, and pointed out that I was born a full six years and two months after our parents’ wedding, and he was born a mere four months after their nuptials, so between the two of us, he was much closer to being an [illegitimate child] than I would ever be.

I then offered that he should perhaps call me an [orifice that ends the mammalian digestive tract], and he could reserve the title of [illegitimate child] for himself.

He then threatened me physically, which made me laugh…
Seriously? You’re in your mid-fifties and you want to have a fist-fight with your little brother? Good Lord, man…grow up!”


We had one more conversation after that; he (again) wanted to “clear the air.”, which consisted of him repeating a (malicious) lie his wife told about my wife and daughter (knowing they were my soft spots, and assuming I would get mad).
I didn’t take the bait and simply said, “That’s not true, and I’d appreciate you not repeating it.”
This infuriated him, and he again tried to pick a physical fight.
I shook my head, stood up and walked away.
That was in early 2020. We haven’t spoken since.

It upsets my parents. I’m tell myself I’m ok with it…but I wish he would get some help.

But that makes me an [orifice that ends the mammalian digestive tract], I guess.
 
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Jackroadkill

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I love it when people yell insults at me. It really brightens my day, knowing that I've completely ruined theirs. The other fun thing is the opportunity to offer smartarse retorts.

I remember once going for a pint with my Dad when I was about 19. We're waiting at the bar for service and this old guy comes in, look me up and down with a visible sneer (didn't like the long hair, leather jacket etc) and says to my Dad "If that was my son I'd effing drown him". My old man chucked a cursory glance in his direction and said "No, you wouldn't". A mild response but this guy looked as if my Dad had thrown him across the room and called his sister a slack-uterused heifer.
 

Muddyshoes

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I've been called many things in my life and the only one that I will remotely care about is if I'm called late to dinner. For the rest Meh
 




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