my year 8 students had to do a budgeting activity pretending they were living out of home on $2000 a month and I find this written on there help I can’t fucking breathe
We had to do this and I was partnered with a boy whose parents are a scientist and a doctor. My family spawned the book: Top Drawer Villain - autobiography of a London criminal.
First of all, we had to choose where we would shop. He wanted to buy from Booths. “We are not buying from Booths,“ I snapped. ”Get on Asda’s website right now.“ His face froze.
“A-Asda?” he whispered. “But that’s where… The Lower Classes shop.”
This was a good start.
We then had to decide on a menu. We started on breakfast. “Toast,” he said.
“Toast,“ I said. ”Great. Look, Asda has its own wholemeal—”
“Warburton’s thick-slice white bread. Nothing else. With olive oil.”
“You WHAT?“ I choked. ”You have olive oil, on your toast, in the morning?”
He frowned. “Who doesn’t?”
“Okay,“ I said, ”but what will the children eat?”
He gaped at me. “The children? We have children?”
We continued. All was well until it came to what we would have on our sandwiches. We even sorted out the children’s lunch - they, of course, would get free school meals. “Yes,“ he agreed; ”if we can’t even afford Bertolli then they can get school meals on the government.”
He asked what dressing we should have on our ham. “Nuh-uh,“ I said. ”Can’t have ham. I’m vegetarian.”
“But I’m not.”
“Yes, but we’re married and we can only afford one sandwich filler so it has to be vege—”
“We’re married!?”
“Of course we’re married! You’re devout Christian - how do you think I convinced you to have children?”
He shook his head, frowning. “Well I want ham. You’ll have to put back the washing powder - I need ham on my sandwiches.”
We continued. Finally, it was dinner. “Okay,“ he said, clearly thinking hard; ”for dinner, we can have… Chicken nuggets and… Beans?”
“Vegetarian.”
“Vegetarian nuggets then. And beans.”
“We need vegetables. The children have to have a balanced diet.”
“You and your children!“ he yelled, and the whole class looked around.
“They’re your children too!” I screamed back.
He leapt to his feet, shaking his head and looking distraught. “I don’t believe it - I don’t believe you! I wouldn’t have your children!”
“Please,“ I cried, standing up also. ”Don’t—”
“I want a divorce!”
And he walked out of the classroom.
The teacher stood up and stared between me and the door through which he had vanished. “I’m sorry,“ I whispered, ”but we couldn’t do it any more. There were just too many differences - I can’t live with someone who thinks champagne is a budget.”
I can’t wait to see this guy when he gets to university.
ok but one day tony is like “how the fuck do you afford things. you’re captain america you dont have a goddamned day job.” and steve just looks at him “tony, my bank account has been gathering interest since the forties. im fuckin loaded.”
I’d assumed his account would have been frozen
that is the best comment anyone has added to this post and i want to personally thank you for that
I never tell people off the bat that I’m gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like “you know I’m gay right?” And watch the look of terror on their face.
i like you
One time a guy I know was making really homophobic comments and said to me, “like, what would you do is a lesbian hit on you?” To which I replied, “I’m bi so I’d be okay with that. I’ve never seen someone backtrack so quickly.
Daniel Radcliffe enjoyed annoying the paparazzi during his stint on the London stage - for six months he deliberately wore the same clothes when
leaving the theater so photographs would be worthless. He
was greeted by photographers each night outside the Gielgud Theater
during his stint in the West End play Equus. Radcliffe quickly realized
newspaper and magazine editors wouldn’t publish photos of him wearing
the same outfit night after night, because it would look like the
pictures were taken on the same day.
He says, “They (the paparazzi) were
outside the theater every single night, but we came up with a cunning
ruse. I would wear the same outfit every time - a different T-shirt
underneath, but I’d wear the same jacket and zip it up so they couldn’t
see what I was wearing underneath, and the same hat. So they could take
pictures for six months, but it would look like the same day, so they
(photos) became unpublishable. Which was hilarious, because there’s
nothing better than seeing paparazzi getting really frustrated.”
