SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

A WWThe oceans might not be doomed, pigeons could cure cancer, and the Catholic Church is apparently not a fan of the X-Files.

Here is all of the wonderful, wild and weird news last week that made us say “fuck yeah.”

Wonderful

This shit-eating boat might save the oceans.

These complete strangers showed up to a Navy veterans funeral so he wouldn’t be buried alone.

This couple hit the jackpot, and now they spend their days helping others.

Wild

As if we needed another reason to love pigeons.

These cutie-patootie wildcats are staging the comeback of all comebacks.

A swatch of the ocean the size of France is now protected.

Weird

Somehow UFOs were a bridge too far for a church that literally believes in demons.

We support this level of petty.

A tourist attraction in New Zealand is closed because people are pooping in it.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase after clicking the link, we’ll earn some money for coffee, which we promise to drink while thinking fondly of you, you beautiful bastard.

On a bright winter day in Munich in 1943, college student Sophie Scholl was beheaded for her efforts in The White Rose, growing resistance against the Nazi party. She was 21 years old and faced her death with the uncompromising resolve she poured into creating a network of dissent among German citizens horrified by the actions of their country’s leadership.

Sophie Scholl had absolute balls of steel, and her fearless actions continue to resonate today. Here is her story.

The Beginning

Sophie Scholl was born in 1921 in Forchtenberg, Germany, a small town overlooking the Kocher Valley in Southwest Germany. Sophie was the fourth of six kids in the Scholl family. Her parents were Magdelana and Robert Scholl. 

Sophie’s father, Robert — we will call him Daddy Scholl from this point forward — was a liberal politician and the mayor of their hometown. By all accounts, it sounds like the Scholls led an idyllic life, and Sophie has been described as a bright child who was always eager to learn. 

In 1932, Sophie joined the League of German Girls, which had a very benign, Girl Scouts-ish ring to it, but it was, in fact, a wing of the Nazi Party youth movement. But Sophie wasn’t the only one; at the time, most girls her age in Germany joined the League, and the true actions of the Nazi party weren’t widely known yet. Similarly, her older brother Hans joined the Hitler Youth, which sounds like the worst fucking club that has ever existed.

In the early 1930s, many viewed the rise of the party as a liberation movement to break the country free of the Treaty of Versailles, pull it out of economic depression, and restore Germany to its former glory. 

Daddy Scholl was an outspoken critic of the Nazi Party, as were many of the Scholls’ family friends. Eventually, Sophie and Hans dropped out of their respective little Nazi youth clubs and leaned further into their liberal roots, surrounding themselves with friends who were equally critical of the Third Reich.  

The Origins of The White Rose

In 1942, at 20 years old, Scholl enrolled in Munich University, where Hans was studying medicine, to study biology and philosophy.

It was on her first day in Munich that her brother introduced her to his cool friends, Alexander Schmorell and Christopher Probst. Sophie quickly fit right into the group of hot young bohemians. They did what hot, young bohemians do: talked about art and philosophy and made plans to go to the cinema, concerts, and restaurants. 

The group’s discussions eventually turned to the Nazi Party and how they could show opposition by connecting with other students and academics who shared their views.

They debated what the most effective form of resistance would be, one that aligned with their non-violent Christian ideals. They decided to anonymously document their dissenting views in leaflets and distribute them by mail. While this may seem like a benign act at the least, politically aggravating at most, it was a sure death sentence in Nazi Germany. These weren’t annoying college students cosplaying activism; these were young adults with absolute balls few would have the strength to carry. 

And so the foundation of what would become the White Rose was laid, with the four students resolved to move forward, accepting that they were putting their lives at great risk.

Shmorell borrowed a Remington typewriter from a friend, and the group began to write.

The introduction to their first leaflet read as follows:

“Nothing is so unworthy of a civilized nation as allowing itself to be governed without opposition by an irresponsible clique that has yielded to base instinct. It is certain that today, every honest German is ashamed of his government.

Who among us has any conception of the dimensions of shame that will befall us and our children when one day the veil has fallen from our eyes and the most horrible of crimes - crimes that infinitely outdistance every human measure - reach the light of day?”

Hans spent 32 marks on a duplicating machine (we hereby submit our petition to rename copiers “duplicating machines”) and made 100 copies of the first leaflet. They sent them to addresses they picked from the phone book, most randomly, but some were intentionally sent to professors and academics. 

They wrote a second pamphlet — 

“Now the end is at hand. Now, it is our task to find one another again, to spread information from person to person, to keep a steady purpose, and to allow ourselves no rest until the last man is persuaded of the urgent need of his struggle against this system. 

A third pamphlet —

“The defeat of the Nazis must unconditionally be the first order of business; the greater necessity of this latter requirement will be discussed in one of our forthcoming leaflets.”

And a fourth —

“Every word that comes from Hitler’s mouth is a lie. When he says peace, he means war, and when he blasphemously uses the name of the Almighty, he means the power of evil, the fallen angel, Satan. His mouth is the foul-smelling maw of Hell, and his might is at bottom accursed.”

As they spread their message, mailing leaflets to random strangers, tucking pamphlets into phone booths, leaving them on park benches, and spreading them around cinemas in Munich, they hoped their words were reaching their fellow countrymen who also carried a big "fuck you, Hitler,” in their hearts.

The Soviet Front

That summer, Hans and Schmorell were called to serve as medics on the Soviet front. On July 23, Sophie saw them off, watching her brother and friends depart on a train that would take them through Poland and to the front lines in Russia.

Sophie returned home to Ulm. Her summer was bleak — she was conscripted to work for two months in a local arms factory. Most of the women Sophie worked with were Russian prisoners, and they performed labor Sophie described as “slave-like.” Daddy Scholl served four months in prison as punishment for speaking negatively of man-baby Hitler. Sophie worried about what her brother was enduring on the Soviet front, knowing that when he returned, they would again take up their campaign for resistance to the White Rose.

Sophie worried about what her brother was enduring on the Soviet front, knowing that when he returned, they would again take up their campaign for resistance to the White Rose.

The Soviet front only hardened Hans’ drive to stir opposition to the Third Reich. On the way to Russia, his unit’s train stopped in Warsaw. After nabbing a quick drink, Hans and Schmorel walked the streets, taking in the horrors of the Warsaw Ghetto, where nearly half a million Jews lived in a 1.3 square mile area, cut off from the world. 

There is a story about Hans during this time that demonstrates that, despite how afraid he may have been, despite the threat of death if the wrong person suspected he was in any way opposed to the regime, he allowed his kindness and humanity to prevail. 

While walking to the back of the front lines, he saw a group of Russian women being made to break and carry rocks to make a road. The youngest was a young girl who was clearly weakened with exhaustion. Hans gave her his ration pouch, containing chocolate, nuts, and berries. She refused the ration and threw the pouch on the ground in disgust. Hans then picked a flower and handed it to her when he again handed the rations. He walked away, and as he wrote in his journal, he turned around, and his heart swelled to see her eating the rations, the flower in her hair.

When Hans and Schmorell returned to Munich in November of 1942, the group geared up and resumed their activities as The White Rose. 

They spent most nights gathered in either Hans or Sophie’s rented room, discussing how to move forward, and listening to foreign radio broadcasts of spies being caught in the upper echelons of the Nazi party. These reports inspired them and gave them proof that there were others out there. 

Find the Authors

As 1942 came to a close and a new year began, the group was re-energized, and Hans and Schmorell each began writing a draft of their fifth leaflet. This time, their message was punchier, more direct, lacking the philosophical and biblical musings of the early leaflets.

“It has become a mathematical certainty that Hitler is leading the German People into the abyss…Freedom of speech, freedom of religion, protection of the individual citizen against the arbitrary actions of the authoritarian states — these are the foundations of the New Europe.” 

This time, in step with protests and marches the group felt were reflective of their message reaching others, they produced between 8,000 and 10,000 copies, all on a duplication machine that had to be cranked by hand as copies churned out one by one. Distributing that large number of pamphlets was dangerous— the group again left them in telephone booths, cinemas, and park benches, as well as hiding them in the entrances and stairways of apartment blocks and beer halls. They each traveled alone to different cities in Germany and Austria, carrying hundreds of pamphlets in a suitcase stored in the overhead rack of a different compartment to distance themselves from suspicion. 

Distributing that large number of pamphlets was dangerous— the group again left them in telephone booths, cinemas, and park benches, as well as hiding them in the entrances and stairways of apartment blocks and beer halls.

At one point, Daddy Scholl got a hold of one of the leaflets, and although he supported the resistance, he worried for his son and daughter. When he asked Sophie if they had anything to do with it, she lied, “How can you even suspect that?”

Enter the villain of our story (besides Hitler). In Munich, Gestapo police officer Robert Mohr was presented with a copy of one of the pamphlets. His superior told him with alarm that the pamphlets were being found all over the city, calling for all Germans to stage a resistance against the Nazi Party. He was ordered to find the authors of the leaflets and make swift arrests. 

Mohr got to work, questioning stationery shops and post offices for any sign of suspicious activity, and through telephoning other Gestapo agencies, he found the leaflets had reached Stuttgart, Frankfurt, Vienna, Ulm, and Augsburg.

Meanwhile, the group worked on their sixth leaflet.

At this time, Sophie wasn’t with her friends but was at home in Ulm, helping her mother and father for ten days. In a letter to a friend, Sophie wrote, “My parents love something wonderful, one of the most beautiful things that has ever been given to me.”

She left home and returned to Munich on February 11. She found Hans and her friends in the middle of their work, having already made 3,000 copies of the sixth leaflet and churning out more. Sophie jumped in to address and stuff envelopes, and Hans went to a store to purchase 1,200 stamps. After he left, the store clerk quietly reported the purchase to the Gestapo.

Meanwhile, Probst had finished writing the seventh leaflet by hand and gave it to Hans, who put it in his jacket pocket.

February 18

Tuesday, February 18, 1943, was an idyllic winter day in Munich. Sophie skipped her first two classes of the day and instead prepared with her brother to distribute the 1,800 remaining sixth leaflets. They placed them in a suitcase– a large one for Hans, a smaller red one for Sophie. They left their apartment at 10:30 a.m. and walked 20 minutes to Ludwig Maximilian University. 

The building hall was empty as students were still in lectures. Sophie and Hans worked quickly, laying the leaflets at the feet of the statues, then moving swiftly through the lecture halls, leaving stacks of leaflets outside classroom doors, on window sills, and on the stairs themselves. As they were walking along the balcony looking down into the hall, Sophie had a moment — she grabbed the remaining leaflets in her fists and in one motion, flung them from the top floor of the university into the atrium below, when the lecture hall doors opened, and hundreds of students stepped into the hall as hundreds of leaflets fluttered to the ground below.

Jacob Schmidt, a maintenance man at the university and bootlicking Nazi asshole, saw the whole thing. 

University officials called the Munich Gestapo, where they were patched through to Officer Robert Mohr. Within minutes, the university was filled with officers. Mohr questioned Hans and Sophie in the office of a school official, and he doubted by their middle-class, educated appearance that they could be the ones behind The White Rose. However, it quickly became clear that they were, in fact, the culprits, and they ordered officers to take the pair to Gestapo headquarters. As they walked, Hans quietly slipped the draft of the seventh leaflet out of his jacket pocket, put it in his mouth, and attempted to swallow it. The officers spotted him, wrenched it from his mouth, and gave it to Mohr.

The Interrogation

That afternoon, Hans and Sophie were checked in, searched, fingerprinted, printed, and photographed at the Gestapo prison. Sophie was checked in by a woman named Else Gebel, herself a prisoner who was allowed to do clerical duties. Sophie later shared a cell with Else, who told her, “If you have a leaflet on you, destroy it now.”

The siblings were interrogated separately. Sophie was questioned about her father’s political views and why she opposed the Nazi party. 

She told Mohr, “I perceive the intellectual freedom of people to be limited in such a manner as contradicts everything inside of me.” When Mohr asked her about the events earlier in the day, she claimed she was going to go home to Ulm by train but decided to stop by the university first to see a friend. There, she said, she saw leaflets lying around, one pile on the edge of a balcony, which she gave a shove down into the hall below. Mohr sent Sophie back to her cell, where she was given soup, bread, and coffee. He was starting to think the calm young woman was telling the truth.

Back at the Scholls’ apartment, the Gestapo were finishing their search. They found a large amount of envelopes and stamps, a typewriter, and Sophie’s notebook, which contained the mailing list of The White Rose. They, too, found a paper with the same handwriting on it as the one on the leaflet draft Hans had tried to swallow. The officers knew the same person had written both: Christopher Probsts.

Hans and Sophie were integrated throughout the night, and despite being presented with evidence found at their apartment, Sophie stuck to her story. At 4 a.m., after hours of questioning, Hans broke. He told Mohr that he was ready to tell the whole truth. While Hans tried to take all responsibility, once Sophie discovered her brother had confessed, she quickly claimed her part in The White Rose, saying that she and Hans acted alone. However, through further interaction and investigation, the officers would come to know of Schmorell and Probst’s involvement. 

Sophie knew that her confession meant she would be executed; even still, like an absolute fucking gangster, she refused to give up the names of her collaborators. When Mohr impressed upon her that her punishment would be the most severe possible, she replied, “I believe I have done the best that I could for my nation. I, therefore, do not regret my conduct. I wish to take upon myself the consequences of these actions.” Legend. 

Meanwhile, Probst had been arrested, and he, too, took full responsibility for the White Rose. He pleaded for mercy, saying that he had a wife and three children to look after. But Sophie, Hans, and Probst were to be tried the following day, Monday, February 22, for high treason.

‘And I have to go.’

​​The next morning, as sunlight poured into their cell, Sophie said to her cellmate Else , “Such a beautiful sunny day. And I have to go. But what difference does my death make if our actions alert people?”

Sophie was escorted to the Palace of Justice in a separate police car from her brother and Probst. When the judge arrived, the entire courtroom, except for the members of the White Rose, sprang to their feet and declared, “Heil Hitler!” 

Sophie knew that her confession meant she would be executed; even still, like an absolute fucking gangster, she refused to give up the names of her collaborators.

When presented with the evidence, the judge began screaming at the three students, and Sophie, ever the badass, screamed back: “Somebody had to make a start! What we said and wrote is what many people are thinking. They just don’t dare say it out loud.” 

Outside the courtroom, Sophie, Hans’ parents, and their younger brother Wernen anxiously awaited the verdict. In the flurry of court resuming from lunch, Daddy Scholl slipped inside and demanded that he be allowed to defend his children. The judge ordered him removed, and as he was dragged by guards from the courtroom, he shouted, “There is a higher court before which we all must stand!” Pointing to his children, he cried, “They will go down in history!” 

The judge then read his verdict. “In the name of the German People, during a time of war, the accused have called for the downfall of the Reich in leaflets. They aided and abetted enemies of the Reich and demoralized armed forces. The accused are sentenced to death.”

Hans, also ever the badass, shouted at the judge, “Today you hang us, but soon you will be standing where I am now!’

The accused were escorted back to prison, where Hans and Sophie were allowed to meet with their parents in a small visitors’ room. The family said their goodbyes, Sophie only shedding tears after her parents left.

Sophie was executed by guillotine at 5 p.m. that day. In her cell, lying on the bed she had made that morning, was a copy of her indictment for high treason. She had written a single word on the back: “Freedom.”

If you’re not there already, get ready to ugly cry. After their deaths, a copy of the sixth leaflet was smuggled to England. During an airstrike in mid-1943, the Royal Air Force dropped millions of copies of the pamphlet across Germany, retitled The Manifesto of the Students of Munich.

More

What an incredible badass, huh? The story of Sophie Scholl and The White Rose is more than we could fit into our humble newsletter. Learn more about these fearless humans from our recommendations below.

Read

Check out the original White Rose leaflet, both in German and English, on the website for The White Rose Foundation, a nonprofit that upholds the resistance group’s memory and encourages democratic consciousness. 

At the Heart of the White Rose: Letters and Diaries of Hans and Sophie Scholl

Hans and Sophie’s writings were published in 2017 and offer a glimpse not only into their activities with The White Rose but also their inner thoughts about the war, musings on spirituality and their lives as young-20-somethings, underscoring the remarkable nature of their convictions that ultimately led to their deaths and inspired millions. 

Defying Hitler: The Germans Who Resisted Nazi Rule by Gordon Thomas

Defying Hitler details the underground network of German citizens who risked their lives to stand against the Third Reich. It’s full of remarkable stories of resistance, not the least of which is The White Rose. This book was a primary source for today’s newsletter — 10/10, highly recommend. 

Watch

The White Rose Young Germans Who Took on the Nazis on the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum YouTube

See for yourself

If life ever takes you to Munich, go see the memorial to the brave students, which features replicas of White Rose leaflets are embedded in the pavement outside University of Munich.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

Across the globe, girls everywhere are eating dinner and pondering their existence.

The resulting food and musings are sometimes captured and deposited into a subreddit aptly named r/GirlDinnerDiaries.Some say r/GirlDinnerDiaries is the home of the female incel. Others say it’s where women share their deepest inner thoughts. Still others say it’s a simple subreddit of food pictures that lean more toward snack than meal, paired with reflections on life.

At Vulgar Advice, we say, “Girl dinner on, ladies.” We find these posts to be inspiring, so much so that we’re gonna get all poetry about it.

Introducing A r/GirlDinnerDiaries Poem, a new Vuglar Advice staple in which we create poems from the titles of posts in a subreddit that captures a state of womanhood not often discussed outside the anals of Reddit.

r/GirlDinnerDiaries: The Worst Day

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

A WWII vet finally goes to prom, a new reality show debuts, and Japan’s robot wolf supply runs low.

Here is all of the wonderful, wild and weird news last week that made us say “fuck yeah.”

Wonderful

First of all, this man looks amazing for a 100-year-old, and we want the name of his Botox injector. Second of all, the kids who arranged for him to attend their prom cause he never got to attend his after being drafted in WWII fucking rule.

Good news for everyone who has ever felt like the sad Zoloft ball!

A retired firefighter attended the college graduation of a baby he delivered during an emergency medical call 22 years ago. AWWWWWW!!

Wild

Hedgehogs have entered the villa.

In news-to-us, Ireland has an ancient rainforest, and it’s staging a comeback.

This is our ultimate fantasy.

Weird

Robot wolves were helping to keep Japan’s rampant bear problem under control, but the company that makes these American-Werewolf-in-London esque machines can’t keep up with orders.

Women in the dating pool were right all along: men are, in fact, coming up from the sewers.

In a picturesque English village, a retiree is facing jail time for waging a feud with her neighbors that Joe Exotic would be proud of.

This post is sponsored by the Dead Pets, the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures that have changed ours. Believe us, it’s not as depressing as it sounds. Click below to listen.

We all have a badass inside of us, waiting to be awakened. Badassness isn’t born in the big events, but is built little by little in the small day-to-day moments.

Here are five ways to be a badass this week.

1. Drink Some Goddamn Water

Can’t stop thinking about how we’re just specks of dust on a rock hurling through an infinite void, and life is long, but the days are short, and what is time anyway? Who invented it? Is there really a god? A panel of gods? Goddesses? Non-binary universe overlords? Who invented jobs? Why are we all just hamsters clocking in on the wheel just for a bigger hamster to toss us some pellets to satiate us for a while, only to do it all again the next day?

If that’s you, drink some fucking water and calm down. We will all be better for it.

2. Read a Book

We cannot deny how satisfying it is to feel the tickle of our brain cells bursting into flames from scrolling for hours; however, no dopamine splooge is worth not being able to read a whole sentence without your attention span yeeting off a cliff. But there ain’t nothing like reading an actual book with actual pages.

Reading something with a connected narrative that is a few hundred pages long engages parts of your brain that reading on a screen simply does not. Books transport you to new worlds, give you access to points of view otherwise unavailable, and can grab you by feels you never knew you had. Plus, reading a book is the easiest way to be less stupid.

There’s like, A LOT of books in the world, we’re sure you can find one you’ll like.

3. Go Outside

Drugs are amazing, but have you ever tried fresh air and sunlight? According to The Experience of Nature: A Psychological Perspective by Cambridge University Press (1989), urban environments are constantly soliciting our attention, whether we realize it or not, called “hard fascination.” Natural environments solicit our attention while also drawing out feelings of pleasure, called “soft fascination.” This so-called soft fascination reduces the strain on our executive function and restores our ability to focus on shit that matters.

Go for a hike, or go to a park. Walk around the block. Sit on your porch. Touch grass, as the kids say.

4. Assume Stupidity, Not Malice

It’s been said a million different ways throughout history: “You have attributed conditions to villainy that simply result from stupidity.” 1941 – Robert A. Heinlein

There likely isn’t malice behind whatever sends you into a rage. We typically give ourselves the benefit of the doubt, but not to others. Cut someone off in traffic? You didn’t see them! Sent files late? You forgot! Didn’t invite a friend? You didn’t think they’d want to go! You aren’t out to get other people, and they ain’t out to get you, John Wick. They’re just dumb. And so are you.

5. Listen

Listening is soooooooo underrated. When someone talks to you, shut your mouth up and shut your brain up. Ask questions about what they’re sharing, or just say, “Tell me more.” Making someone feel heard, even if it’s just about the goings-on of their day, is pretty fucking cool.

Feeling heard can bring out the best in people. When you become someone who not just hears, but listens, people will blossom around you, and will most likely do the same in return.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

Two besties ascend to an even higher level of bestie-dom, hedgehogs get their own highway in England, and a man pulled a truck with his genitals, not to show off or anything but for charity.​

Wonderful

A 28-year-old woman and her 87-year-old bestie wrote a book together, and she secretly used the proceeds to pay off his hearing aids. *Screaming, crying, throwing up*

72-year-old Alabama grandma Billie Dunn said “fuck you” to invisible limitations invented by society to keep the proletariat down, and graduated last week with a Bachelor of Science.

This guy couldn’t have been in a more perfect place when he had a cardiac arrest.

Wild

This owl has fostered hundreds of little baby owls and raised them as her own. YOU READ THAT RIGHT.

Another W for endangered species.​

In the most English countryside thing ever, the East Riding of Yorkshire Council is launching a highway for hedgehogs.

Weird

We’ve been there.

This man hauled a car with his wang for a good cause.

​There is no other way to put it: a man in Scotland was caught having sex with a trash can.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

Dodge was the last kitten left in a litter that was born in a barn on the rural edges of town. He looked like a little black ink spot with bright green eyes and a smear of white hair on his chest. He screamed on the drive home, staring at me while he dug his tiny claws into my chest as I held him close. When we got back to my apartment, he perched up on my knee, and we napped together, the first of a thousand naps we would take in the next two decades, always curled up around each other.

For the next 19 years, a little piece of my life was totally, utterly, and completely perfect, even when everything else was very much not so.

Dodge greeted me at the door of my first apartment each morning when I came home from my graveyard shift at the hospital, a little sprite eagerly waiting my arrival. He patiently sat in his place on the sink as I washed my face and brushed my teeth, then curled up on my lap as I wrote in my journals or watched a show on my laptop until sleep took us both over.

Even as a tiny, wobbly kitten, his green eyes conveyed a knowing beyond the confines of his small world.

One morning in the beginning, I lie in bed with my eyes closed, suspended between sleep and awake, trying to shift toward the former. Dodge was next to me, no bigger than a skinny potato, and he gently pressed his tiny paws onto my eyelids and kept them there.

At the onset of my life with Dodge, I was in a dark, desperate place. He led me out, day by day, until I didn’t know the way back. When I read, when I scrolled, when I wrote, he was always next to me, purring and gently staring. Often, he would close his eyes and lean his head into the back of my hand, and keep it there.

Over the years, Dodge and I developed a language of gazes, glances, tongue clicks, chin scratches, ear rubs, pets, gentle head pats, purrs, meows, and leaning into and curling around each other. Together, we formed a world for just the two of us.

When Dodge was seven, he got outside while I was away. By the time I got home, he hadn’t been seen in days. I was living at a family home, the landing pad for my siblings and me whenever life shifted, and we needed a place to land. It was my turn.

I stapled missing posters to telephone poles. I knocked on doors. I posted on neighborhood apps. I circled block after block, calling his name. I fell sick with the flu, but still looked for him, crying myself to sleep every time I returned to bed without him. After ten days, I thought that was it, our story together had ended.

On the eleventh night, I awoke from a feverish sleep to the unmistakable sound of his meow. It was faint, but I knew it was him. I leaped out of bed, put on socks, and was in the backyard in moments. Snow was falling, and my fever burned against the cold. I called to him, shouting his name and clicking my tongue to beckon him to me. I quietly climbed our neighbors’ fences, a feat I perfected as a teenager. I moved through backyard after backyard in the quiet winter night, desperate to find the small creature to which my heart belonged.

After an hour, my feet were soaked and stiffening. I retraced my steps and got back into bed, defeated and devastated all over again. I resigned to the likelihood that I hadn’t heard him at all, that the fever, the sleepless nights, the sick ache in my heart made me hear him in my dreams.

The next day, the neighbor living behind us knocked on our door to tell me he had found Dodge in his garage. I cried as I walked again in the snow, this time with him in my arms.

I was his person, but Dodge was a social prince. When we had company, he liked to sit among the people, floating from lap to lap and getting ample time with each person. He loved who I loved, trusted who I trusted. As I added more pets to our lives, he let his place be known and would always take his spot in my lap, even if it was occupied by the lumbering head of a dog.

Dodge was with me through relationships, break-ups, moves, deaths, career milestones — always, sitting in my lap, next to me. When I began writing for a living — my dream since I was a child — he developed a habit of lying on my desk and resting his head on my wrist as I wrote articles. I eventually got a tattoo of his face in the exact spot he would place his head, so that when he was gone, he would still be with me, coaxing me along as I typed.

When Dodge turned 15, I became gripped by anticipatory grief. He lived with kidney disease and a heart murmur. I was terrified of life beyond him. Sometimes, I would look at him and see his age: his legs lost patches of hair, and he lost weight. But always, he would bounce back into my little panther with the gleaming coat and bright eyes.

Five years ago, we moved into a house with a large back deck and little tree cover. Dodge was always an inside boy, but I slowly grew comfortable with letting him out to bask in the sun with our two dogs. He was never more beautiful than in the bright, unfiltered light, tilting his head up to the sky, absorbing the warmth of the sun’s beams.

In March of this year, I made a vet appointment for a check-up after noticing Dodge was eating less. As the week went on, he became wobbly, almost like he was a kitten who didn’t yet have his sea legs. By the time Friday came, he grew more tired, and my heart grew more panicked.

He spent the weekend wrapped in a blanket in my arms, sleeping with his head pressed against my chest. I tried to stay grounded, to relive the past 19 years again in every single second we had left.

On Saturday, my anxiety was peaking, and I needed to run, to shake it out of me and clear my mind. As the miles unfurled behind me, I imagined what the next few days would look like. The vet would probably tell me it was time; he was old, he wouldn’t bounce back. I would call Heaven at Home to make an appointment for the next day. I would pick out a special blanket to lay him on in my office, the place we spent the most time together. The Heaven at Home vet would come and give him the shot while I held him. We would make a playlist of gentle music and light candles, and I would lay him on the floor, surrounded by lilies. We would bring our other pets in one by one to sniff him, so they would understand why their brother was suddenly gone. That’s how it would go. It would be a ritual worthy of him, one built on the love he built within me.

On Sunday, my husband took photos of us. My hair was unwashed, and my face was swollen from days of steadily crying. But his head is lying on my chest, his chin tilted down, and both of us in our world together.

The next morning, Dodge crawled from under the bed when he heard me stirring before sunrise. I scooped him up, and he relaxed in my embrace, his tummy facing up, his bright green eyes blinking slowly at me.

I carried him down to my office, where he filled the space on my lap between my stomach and my computer as I typed. We had four hours together before his vet appointment. He sat with me as he had thousands of times before, the two of us in harmony.

At 7 a.m., I called my mom and asked her to drive me. If I got bad news, I told her, I don’t think I would be able to drive. As the hour went on, he weakened. When I got up to let my mom in the house, I heard a sound and ran back into my office. Dodge had fallen while trying to drink from a small dish of water I put out for him, and he couldn’t get up. I wailed and wrapped him in a towel, holding him so close, trying to absorb him into my body so he wouldn’t ever leave me.

He had always been upset in the car, but this time, he just lay in my arms and looked at me, calm as he had ever been. I sobbed and cried and choked on my tears, and my mom drove. The sun was absurdly bright, almost cruelly so.

When we got to the vet, she examined him gently and told me it was time.

There was no music, no ceremony, no ritual, no flowers, no candles. It was just him and me, as it had always been. I told him over and over that he was perfect, that he had made my life more perfect than I ever could have wanted, that he would always be the best part of me.

And then he was gone.

It’s been almost two months, and I’m learning how to live without Dodge’s physical presence, to carry him with me. I have moments where I can feel his warmth and his gaze, and I am calm. In other moments, his absence is overwhelming, and I am wandering again in the snowy night, looking for my little soulmate as I hear him calling to me, somewhere just beyond the dark.

This is the first edition of the Dead Pets Newsletter, an accompaniment to the Dead Pets Podcast. I started Dead Pets to prepare myself for Dodge’s death, and I am so glad I did. The stories I’ve collected and shared on the podcast have made my own grief softer, more bearable.

Dead Pets now stands as my ode to Dodge, to my perfect bodhisattva, the little prince who loved me when I didn’t know how to love myself.

In each episode, guests talk about a pet from their past and how they carry their pet with them after they are gone. Dead Pets is about the death of our pets and the immense grief it brings; but more than that, it’s about their lives and all the small moments of happiness and depth and love that accumulate to something greater than ourselves.

After every episode is recorded, edited, and published, the story keeps going for me. Every interview prompts new feelings, revelations, and epiphanies.

When Dodge died, people who had been on the podcast reached out to me with kind words and camaraderie. In the early days when the pain of losing him was raw agony, when the grief was cruelly isolating, it made all the difference in helping me feel less alone. With the podcast and this newsletter, I want to help others feel less alone in their grief, too.

What You Can Expect When You Subscribe

The Dead Pets Newsletter is $5 a month or $40 a year. I’ll be publishing once a month, sharing reflections and thoughts from each episode, my own grief journey from losing Dodge, news about the podcast, book reviews, and other resources on pet grief. If that sounds like something your heart needs, subscribe here.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcast.

Pizza Hut sent out a Millennial dog whistle, German billionaires united to save a whale named Timmy, and a Taco Bell employee made it known that under no circumstances are water cups to be filled with Baja Blast. Here is all of the news last week that made us say “fuck yeah.”

Wonderful

If stories about lost pets being reunited with their families across vast expanses of time and space have no fans, then we are dead.

Pizza Hut is once again leveraging children’s insatiable desire for a personal pan pizza with the topping of their choice to improve literacy rates.​

When we were in middle school, we couldn’t operate a Razor scooter properly. These kids in Mississippi took over a school bus after their driver blacked out and saved the lives of their bus-kid peers.

Wild

Timmy the Humpback Whale *sob* was stuck in the shallows of the North Sea for weeks until two German millionaires said, “Nicht unter unserer Aufsicht!”

For the first time ever, an orangutan was caught on film crossing a rope bridge made to help the critically endangered great apes cross a busy road.

A stellar sea lion affectionately named Chonkers has been representing his species in San Francisco.

Weird

This was one of our fears as teenagers, just trying to save a buck on a soda after scrapping together all of our money for a precious chalupa and Baha Blast.

A Texas Chick-Fil-A employee was hoisted by his own mac and cheese petard.

​Another childhood fear resurrected.

Across the globe, girls everywhere are eating dinner and pondering their existence.

The resulting food and musings are sometimes captured and deposited into a subreddit aptly named r/GirlDinnerDiaries.Some say r/GirlDinnerDiaries is the home of the female incel. Others say it’s where women share their deepest inner thoughts. Still others say it’s a simple subreddit of food pictures that lean more toward snack than meal, paired with reflections on life.

At Vulgar Advice, we say, “Girl dinner on, ladies.” We find these posts to be inspiring, so much so that we’re gonna get all poetry about it.

Introducing A r/GirlDinnerDiaries Poem, a new Vuglar Advice staple in which we create poems from the titles of posts in a subreddit that captures a state of womanhood not often discussed.

r/GirlDinnerDiaries: A Love Story

This post is sponsored by the Dead Pets, the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures that have changed ours. Believe us, it’s not as depressing as it sounds. Click below to listen.

We love Tiny Desk, obviously. Live on KEXP is a different beast in the same forest of in-studio performances filmed and disseminated on YouTube for the music-hungry masses. While Tiny Desk feels like you are in someone’s living room, Live on KEXP feels like you are in someone’s basement at a house show that will become a local legend.

For nigh-on 30 years, the Seattle radio station has been dutifully introducing musicians the world over, and the result is a vault of thousands of live performances for you to enjoy.

​While Tiny Desk is light and airy, musicians pared down to their essence, KEXP is guttural and loud, with musicians pouring their fucking lungs out against the studio’s signature glittering backdrop.​

Here are the best KEXP live performances to lift you up when you feel like ass. ​

Dakha Brakha

Dakha Brakha is a Ukrainian quartet that, at first glance, looks like they would play some lovely, gentle folk music that might lull you peacefully to sleep. Barrely a minute into their performance, you will see how totally wrong you were. Dhaka Brakha is a hypnotic cacophony of powerful harmonies, with cellos, accordions, goblet drums, harmonica, digeridoo, and more.

​Instead of lulling you to sleep, Dakha Brakha will awaken something deep inside of you.

HAM

Music that comes out of Iceland is SO Iceland. Think Björk, Sigur Rós, Mum, Aurora — they all sound like fairies that gestated in the Earth’s core before sprouting through volcanic soil. HAM is no different. If Icelandic metal isn’t your thing, it might be after this. These guys have been ripping since 1988, and their sound is reminiscent of medieval dungeons, in the best way.

HAM’s KEXP set was filmed at Iceland Airwaves music festival, and it kicks off with a warning of what is to come, with lead singer Óttarr Proppé declaring to the crowd: “We are HAM, and we are going to play a few songs about friendship and love and hate!”

Sylvan Esso

Electropop duo Sylvan Esso casts a spell that we want to be under at all times.

Amelia Meath’s delicate, soothing vocals are fortified by Nick Sanborn’s synthesizer. The pair perform songs from their self-titled debut album, a synthy lullaby that makes us feel like we are being rocked to sleep in a dreamy soundwave.

Charles Bradley

Charles Bradley’s voice will reach into your chest, grab your heart, and give it a squeeze that will fill your body with both chills and the warm fuzzies. The funk and soul legend is backed by The Extraordinaires for his 2016 KEXP Live performance. The performance is typical of Bradley, who is armed with a voice that could awaken long-sleeping gods, change geography, summon the rain, and knock your fucking socks off.​

People who were fortunate enough to see Bradley live before his death in 2017 describe it as a transcendent experience, and this one is no exception.

IDLES

IDLES holds a spot on our best Tiny Desk list, too. The lead singer’s energy will blast you in the face, reach around the back of your head, and get that thang banging. The band fills the space with a chaotic energy that pushes against the ceiling and walls, straining to contain them. Lead singer Joseph Talbot growls and pushes his vocals through gritted teeth, each word coming out like a sharp bullet as the band berates your ears by ripping on their instruments like nobody’s business.

Stay tuned for part two.

This post is sponsored by the Dead Pets, the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures that have changed ours. Click below to listen.

Drugs are amazing, but have you ever come home after a long ass day at work to a dog that is so fucking excited to see you they’re literally shaking? Has a cat that is uninterested in every single person on Earth ever sat on your lap and purred?

Pets are a goddamn bottomless pit of joy. Taking care of another being gives you purpose, structure, and worth. At the very least, if you have a dog, you have to go outside every single day. If you have a cat, they will sit on your fucking laptop and force you to unplug.

You could have a legendarily shitty day, and it will be made better by a cuddle with your pet. Bonding with an animal and keeping them fed, sheltered, and happy is not only deeply gratifying; it will also add years to your life and increase your chance of recovering from major health events like heart attack and stroke.

Researchers have long put forth the benefits of having pets. Pet owners have lower blood pressure, increased mobility, are less lonely and stressed, and have a higher self-image than weirdos who don’t have pets. But scientists haven’t quite figured out if pets make people happier and healthier, or if happy, healthy people tend to have pets. To that we say: who gives a fuck.

No one adopts a pet thinking, “This little guy is going to lower my blood pressure and increase my chances of surviving a stroke if I ever have one!” We adopt them because something in our hearts tells us it’s time. The real benefit of getting a pet is this: part of your life will be completely and utterly perfect.

Your bond with your pet will be a pocket of magic in your world. You will be shocked at your capacity to love more and more; and when you think it would be totally impossible for you to love any more, you just fucking do.

Pets are love unfiltered. They don’t have opinions about our life choices, our intelligence or lack of, how we dress, what we eat, our career choices, or our education level. All they require of us is us.

Well-mustached French poet and journalist Anatole France said it best: Until one has loved an animal, part of one’s soul remains unawakened.

Bodhisattvas

A wise man once told us that our pets are Bodhisattvas — beings in Buddhism who have achieved enlightenment but delay entering nirvana to help others reach their own enlightenment. Our pets are selfless guides who innately carry all that we lack: the ability to be present, to accept, draw boundaries, to love without limits or conditions, to surrender to boundless joy.

Amidst all of that is the inevitable: their lives are just a fraction of ours. Losing them is an ineffable agony. When they leave us, our souls ache in the face of their absence. With time, the ache will soften, and your heart will be wider and deeper, and you’ll marvel that you were ever so lucky to have had a thousand joyful moments with your very own Bodhisattva. And you will be better for it.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcast.

The Amazon is staging a comeback tour; the shitty boyfriend to end all shitty boyfriends is found guilty; and science finally does the right thing and launches a study about farts. Here is all of the news last week that made us say “fuck yeah.”

Wonderful

We love stories about incredible fucking old badass people finally getting their dues.

This absolute unit of a good Samaritan saved a mother and three children from our worst nightmare.

New Mexico is using money from a fat ass oil and gas windfall to make life easier for regular shmegular folks.

Wild

Bug of the Year is exactly the kind of competition we want to bet money on.

One year after conservationists kicked out the riff raff, the Marshall Islands are booming.
If you are a fellow millennial who will always and forever be worried about the Amazon rainforest, worry not.

Weird

Scooby Doo walked so the Thai police could run.

Imagine if he never put the dishes in the dishwasher the right way, always left his stupid fucking little beard hairs in the sink when he shaved, left his clothes on the floor, and then left her on the mountain. MEN.

Scientists at the University of Maryland have launched an extremely serious and not at all funny mass study about farts. The name of the study isn’t even remotely silly: Human Atlas Flatus. Yes, the data is collected exactly how you hope it would be: with high-tech underwear that counts your farts.

This post is sponsored by the Dead Pets, the podcast about pet grief that celebrates the lives of the creatures that have changed ours. Click below to listen to this week’s episode.

Times are weird. The seasons are changing, the magic of the holidays has officially fucked off, the snow is melting away to mud, and we are all stuck in the middle of the in-between. During this time of year, we more often than not feel like hot dog shit in a blender.

Among the many activities we force ourselves to engage in to lift the spirits is cracking a beer, sparking a joint (or both), and watching one of the following feel-good cinematic masterpieces.

Here are five more movies that we are pretty sure will brighten your mood when you feel like shit.

Second Hand Lions

It’s the summer of 1962, and Walter’s floozy of a mother sends him to live with his wild and crazy uncles, Hub and Garth — played by Robert Duvall and Michael Caine in full zaddy mode. Rumor has it that the old bachelors are sitting on a fortune amassed from their lifetime of adventures. They spend their time shooing away people who come sniffing around for their gold by shooting shotguns at them from their porch.

The men spend their time regaling Walter with tales of the adventures from before and after WWII. Planting a field of corn leads them to a retired circus lion who becomes Walter’s pet and ultimately serves a greater purpose when his mom turns up with her grifter boyfriend in search of the uncles’ wealth.

Cool Runnings

Cool Runnings is the best sports movie ever made. Don’t agree? Drop a pin, we’re coming to fucking fight you.

It’s 1987, and Jamaican sprinter Derice Bannock’s Olympic dreams are dashed during time trials. Desperate to make it to the Olympic stage, Bannock tracks down an old friend of his dead father’s, disgraced bobsled champion Irv Blitzer, and convinces him to form a team to compete in the upcoming Winter Olympics in Calgary.

Bannock and teammates Sanka, Yul, and Junior train under Blitzer and qualify to represent Jamaica in the winter games, even though none of them have even seen a flake of snow. It’s the ultimate underdog story. If you’ve seen it, don’t even pretend you don’t bawl your eyes out when they pick up that bobsled.

Best in Show

In a perfect lambasting of the highfalutin, ridiculous world of prestigious dog shows, Best in Show follows five dogs and their owners on their journey to compete in the Mayflower Kennel Club Dog Show in Philadelphia.

Eugene Levy and Catherine O’Hara play Gerry and Cookie Fleck, who have high hopes for their Wheaten Terrier Winkey. Their journey includes an overzealous former lover and being forced to sleep in the storage room of the hotel.

Michael Hitchcock and Parker Posey play a high-strung J.Crew and Starbucks-loving couple who can’t get to the bottom of their Weimaraner’s neurosis, but suspect it has to do with it walking in on them having sex (or at least that’s what they tell the dog’s therapist).

Jennifer Coolidge plays a young wife to a 90-year-old sugar daddy who is determined to make her standard poodle a star with the help of a very butch dog trainer.

Bait shop owner Harlan Pepper waxes poetic about his family’s lineage of hounds as he prepares his bloodhound Hubert for greatness, and finally, gay couple Scott Donlan and Stefan Vanderhoof and their Shih Tzu Ms. Agnes round out the competition.

Office Space

Who hasn’t wanted to rob their evil corporate overlords and beat the life out of the office copy machine that never works when you need it to? Office Space is an evergreen tale of three workplace besties who set out to rob the IT company they work for.

Peter goes to a hypnotherapy session to find relief from the stress of his dead-end job, but the hypnotist dies of a sudden heart attack before he can snap Peter out of it. His new don’t-give-a-single-fuck attitude impresses the higher-ups as the company ruthlessly downsizes. When his friends are laid off, they sic a virus on the company’s accounting system that diverts fractions of pennies into a bank account over a long period of time. Of course, it goes terribly awry.

Hot Fuzz

We never don't want to watch a Simon Pegg and Nick Frost joint. Police officer Nicholas Angel is reassigned from the hard streets of London to the sleepy village of Sandford. Angel's hard-nosed policing is a poor match for the laid-back community and his barely competent colleagues. After responding to calls that include a runaway swan and a land-bound sea mine, Angel struggles with the slower pace of his new life. And then the bodies start turning up. Hot Fuzz literally has everything: a community theatre performance of Romeo and Juliet, the 1988 movie, murder by church steeple, and sweet elderly villagers wielding an armory.

Want to advertise in Vulgar Advice? Have your people email our people at info@vulgaradvice.com.

This post is sponsored by the Dead Pets, the podcast that celebrates the lives of the creatures that have changed ours. Click below to listen to this week’s episode.

We’ve said it before, and we’ll say it again: words are the shit.

You wouldn’t believe how many words there are to describe the most nuanced of feelings and the most imperceptible of moments. Here are 41 of our favorite words we’re pretty sure you haven’t heard of before.

1. Ombrophile - A person who loves rain; someone who finds joy and peace in rainy weather.

2. Oleilu - The awareness of how few days are memorable; a reflection on the scarcity of truly significant moments in life.

3. Shibui - A Japanese aesthetic concept describing simple, subtle, and unobtrusive beauty; elegant simplicity.

4. Foilsick - Frustrated by something you could have easily predicted or prevented; exasperated at your own lack of foresight.

5. Meliorism - The belief that the world can be made better through human effort; optimism about improvement.

6. Eccendentesiant - Someone who fakes a smile; a person pretending to be happy.

7. Nyctophile - A person who loves night or darkness; someone who feels most alive after dark.

8. Liminal - Relating to a transitional or in-between state; occupying a threshold or boundary space.

9. Chrysalism - The tranquility and peace felt during a thunderstorm when you’re safely indoors; the amniotic comfort of being inside during bad weather.

10. Eremitism - The practice or state of living as a hermit; withdrawal from society for solitude.

11. Petrichor - The pleasant, earthy smell that accompanies rain after a dry spell; the scent of rain on dry ground.

12. Dendrophile - A person who loves trees and forests; someone who feels a deep connection to wooded areas.

13. Humepenthe - Something that drives away sorrow or eases pain; a remedy for sadness (from Greek mythology).

14. Alamort - Half-dead from exhaustion, sorrow, or illness; deeply dejected or sorrowful.

15. Clishmaclaver - Idle gossip or foolish talk; meaningless chatter.

16. Alexithymia - The inability to identify and describe one’s own emotions; difficulty recognizing feelings.

17. Aesthete - A person who has or affects to have a special appreciation of art and beauty; someone devoted to aesthetic pursuits.

18. Onism - The awareness of how little of the world you’ll experience; the frustration of being stuck in one body in one place at one time.

19. Nefelibata - A cloud walker; someone who lives in the clouds of their own imagination, detached from reality; a dreamer.

20. Ineffable - Too great or extreme to be expressed in words; indescribable or unspeakable.

21. Adronitis - Frustration with how long it takes to get to know someone; impatience with the slow pace of building relationships.

22. Solivagant - A solitary wanderer; someone who travels or wanders alone.

23. Casimir - Someone who prevents a fight, argument, or conflict; a peacemaker.

24. Oblioscend - To forget things as you age; the process of forgetting due to aging.

25. Latibule - A hiding place; a safe refuge or sanctuary where one can retreat.

26. Valemor - The awareness that any given moment might be the last time you see someone; treasuring encounters knowing they may not repeat.

27. Psithurism - The sound of wind rustling through trees; the whisper of leaves.

28. Pithered - Confused, bewildered, or flustered; in a state of mild distress or agitation.

29. Tuirse - The sadness or emptiness felt after a long conversation or event has ended; post-connection melancholy.

30. Anhedonia - The inability to feel pleasure; loss of interest in previously enjoyable activities.

31. Sobremar - To be above the sea; metaphorically, to rise above difficulties or remain afloat in troubles.

32. Cingulomania - A strong desire to hold someone in your arms; the urge to embrace.

33. Callow - Inexperienced and immature; lacking adult sophistication or worldliness.

34. Nelipot - Someone who walks barefoot; a person who goes without shoes.

35. Firgun - A Hebrew word describing genuine, unselfish joy at another person’s success or good fortune.

36. Mireluna - The moon’s reflection on water; moonlight dancing on a water’s surface.

37. Philophobia - The fear of falling in love or emotional attachment; anxiety about forming deep connections.

38. Forwallowe - To wither or fade; to waste away or deteriorate (archaic).

39. Groke - To gaze longingly at someone while they’re eating, hoping they’ll share their food.

40. Immure - To enclose or confine within walls; to imprison or entrap.

41. Cordiform - Heart-shaped; having the form or shape of a heart.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Coming December 4, 2025.

Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcast.

Last week, a really, really old woman dominated her competition; a 90s icon is downgraded in the best way; and a penis controversy shook the world of ski jumping.

Here’s all the news last week that made us say, “Fuck yeah!”

Wonderful

Diana Beasly, aged 92, did what she does best and fucking destroyed the competition at the UK national Scrabble tournament.

These men have found solace in the Costco food court, and ya know what? Good for them!

This is the Jetsons utopia we long for.

Wild

Perhaps the ocean isn’t going to die and take us all with it after all.

90s endangered species icon, the Giant Panda, is officially off the list.

A plant thought to be extinct was like, “whatsup, bitches!”

Weird

In the right hands, anything is a weapon.

Male ski jumpers competing in the upcoming Winter Olympics are injecting their dicks with hyaluronic acid.

Surely this is a sign of the end of times.

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Coming December 4, 2025.

Russian beefcake Shavarsh Karapetyan was a swimming superstar bound for greatness at the 1976 Montreal Olympics when internal politics cock-blocked him from the team and shut him out of his gold medal dreams.

Thankfully for 37 fortunate souls bound for a watery grave, fate had something greater in store for the 23-year-old athlete.

This is the badass story of Shavarsh Karapetyan.

In 1953, Karapetyan was born in Kirovakan, Armenia. By the looks of him, he came out of his mama a full-grown-ass man. After eight years of schooling, Mother Russia felt that was enough for the young comrade and sent him off to auto-mechanic school.

Meanwhile, Karapetyan became an accomplished finswimmer. If you’re like, “What the fuck is finswimming?,” welcome to the club, we’ve done the Googling for you. Finswimming is a sport in which athletes make themselves as fish-like as possible by wearing a monofin and a mask, holding their breath for insane lengths of time, and propelling themselves through the water like freak shark people. It looks cool as shit, and you should totally YouTube it.

By the time he was 23, Karapetyan was one of the world’s best finswimmers, bagging 17 world championships, 13 European championships, and 7 USSR championships, and broke 11 world records. He was also *ahem* not too hard on the eyes.

Karapetyan was considered a shoo-in to represent the USSR at the 1976 Olympics in Montreal when politics shut him out of the team. Soviet Coach Liparit Almasakyan stood on business for Karapetyan and backed out of coaching the team. Instead, he was like, “Fuck your politics, I’ll train Karapetyan and make him into even more of a beast.”

On September 16, 1976, as part of an absolutely fucking brutal training regimen Almasakyan designed for Karapetyan, the young athlete was running 12 miles around Yerevan Lake with 44-pound weights on his back. Almasakyan and Karapetyan’s brother, Kamo, followed close behind.

As he neared the end of his run, a trolleybus on a nearby road veered off course and plummeted downhill and into the cold waters of the lake, rapidly swallowed by its dark waters. Ninety-two people were inside as it sank 33 feet to the bottom of the lake.

Fucking badass that he was, Karapetyan’s response was immediate, diving into the waters while shouting instructions to Almasakyan and Kamo to stand by.

On his first dive, Karapetyan kicked the glass out of one of the trolleybus’s windows to create an exit for the drowning passengers. He dove into the water 38 more times, resurfacing with a rescued passenger and passing them to Almasakyan and Kamo, who helped them to shore.

Each time he went down, he swam through shards of broken glass and was nearly blind in the dark, murky lake waters as he felt for passengers. On his last dive, Karapetyan came to the surface to realize he had grabbed a cushion, not a person, and his heart broke.

“I could have saved a life instead. That seat still haunts me in my nightmares,” he told the media years later.

Karapetyan pulled 37 people from the water that day, and others were able to swim out on their own from the window he broke. It’s reported that only 20 survived the ordeal.

Karapetyan sustained severe cuts from the broken glass, and came down with sepsis and double pneumonia for his efforts. He was hospitalized for 45 days while recovering.

Incredible shit, huh?

What’s more, is that the story remained largely under wraps, as the Soviet government didn’t really want people to know about how fucking shitty their public transit was, so they kept it out of the media. Witnesses and survivors talked, however, and the story of Karapetyan’s absolutely fucking baller rescue efforts became something of an urban legend until 1982, when a newspaper published the first media story about the crash.

When asked about his selfless act of badassery that could have cost him his life, he replied, “I was simply closer to the crash than anyone else.” We love a humble King.

After the rescue, Karapetyan never fully returned as the finswimmer he once was and eventually hung up his fins.

But, he did make it to the Olympics. At the 2014 opening ceremony in Sochi, Karapetyan carried the Olympic torch.

We’re not crying, you’re crying!

Read More Badass Stories

SPONSORED | Dead Pets is the podcast that celebrates the lives of the creatures who have changed ours. Coming December 4, 2025.

Follow on Spotify or Apple Podcast.

Wonderful

We’ve decided to start off 2026 by crying hysterically first out of utter sadness for this poor horse and then for joy at the town that came together to save it.

We can’t help it, we love stories like this. Get used to it, K?

Finland is ensuring its children don’t grow up to be fucking dumbasses who are blinded by outrage at news stories that aren’t exactly true.

Wild

This fence in Australia that keeps predators from eating these cute little critters has resulted in a major species comeback.

Congrats to this mountain gorilla mamma, who gave birth to twins last week.

While this headline sounds like the opening to a “walk into a bar joke,” we’re stoked to see more migratory species getting global protection.

Weird

Like, literally just let her live.

A sex shop in Toronto received an official government letter about an excess of butt-plugs being sent to a U.S naval base in Bahrain.

We envy this journalist who got to use the words “beloved,” “walrus,” and “penis” in one headline.

The Dead Pets Podcast celebrates the lives of the creatures that have changed ours.

On an arctic January night in 1925, a 12-year-old Siberian Husky named Togo ran hard across the barren Norton Sound, an inlet of the sub-zero Bering Sea off the west coast of Alaska.

He led a sled dog team that beat a path into the frozen terrain packed with ice and snow as they carried a life-saving medicine bound for Nome, Alaska. The team was in a race against time as the lives of 28 people hung in the balance. The people of Nome had 20 hours left, and time was running out.

Listen to episode 4 of the Dead Pets Podcasts to hear the incredible true story of a very good boy named Togo.

Want a sponsored post in Vulgar Advice? Talk to us, babe. Send an email to info@vulgaradvice.com.

This past year, a handful of people proved that humankind isn’t totally fucking awful; nature put its foot down and said, “I’m not done yet, damnit,; and people around the world were arrested for the strangest of behaviors.

Here are all of the wonderful, wild, and weird news stories that made us say, “Fuck yeah,” in 2025.

Wonderful

Some very smart scientists in Deutschland created a way to literally patch a broken heart.

In “Fuck Yeah, Earth!” news, a mountain sacred to the Māori was granted personhood. What the fuck does that mean, you ask? It means it will forever be protected from greedy corporate shitheads.

This is a damn cute meet-cute.

In people-aren’t-so-fucking-horrible-after-all news, a 27-year-old with a heart of gold launched an effort to reunite people with their family photographs lost in natural disasters.

Is there anything cuter than an old couple in love?! Damn right. These adorable love birds didn’t even speak the same language when they fell in love 70 years ago.

We can’t help it; we love old people (it’s not a fetish). The invitations an 87-year-old man named Doug sent out for his baller-ass party made headlines.

The airlines did something not totally shitty for a change. Delta delayed the take-off of a flight for 30 minutes so that a young woman whose connection was delayed could see her dying mother one last time. Delta has moved us to tears before, but certainly not for acts of kindness.

A 23-year-old med student survived two weeks lost in the Australian wilderness. We think that everyone can agree that of all the wilderness to be lost in, Australia’s would be the most fucked.

A grocery store in the Yukon recently added to its signage translations of English words into Hän, the traditional language of the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in First Nation. Fuck yeah for language restoration, and ever more fuck yeah for bringing said language into public spaces.

This absolutely heroic mother fucker saved 15 children from a burning school bus.

A dog was trapped on a frozen Canadian lake for 28 hours when a group of neighbors said, “Not on our watch, damnit!”

A small business owner hanging on in a long-dying but beloved industry closes his doors to everyone except for one customer. Our renowned cleverness failed us when trying to write a zingy line to describe this story, but it might be one of our favorite news stories of all time.

In sometimes-people-really-are-the-fucking-best news, 300 people in a small Michigan town formed an assembly line to help a beloved local bookstore move more than 9,000 books to their new location.

This might be our favorite headline ever: 3-legged mini horse fitted with a custom prosthetic leg in groundbreaking rehab case in Minnesota.

A toddler in Arizona escaped his enclosure and wandered through the night, ending up several miles from home in mountain lion territory. If it weren’t for a good boy named Buford, this story would have ended a lot differently.

As lifelong members of the Naughty Dog Fan Club, we have been following Valerie’s journey closely. This little wiener dog survived 529 days in the fucking Australian wilderness — the most wild of all the wildernesses. She was rescued last week after volunteers spent a total of 1,000 hours searching for her.

What was once the biggest pile of shit in the world will soon be resplendent with 50,000 violets.

These smarty-pants scientists discovered a brand-new color. Just when we thought we had seen it all!

This short-and-sweet piece in The Guardian reminds us that humans are, in fact, not the dog shit scum of the Earth – at least not these typically rowdy teenage boys.

In more surprisingly touching teenage boy news, this poor fucking kid who endured the nightmare of his entire family dying in a fell swoop donated a fuck load of money.

Brazilian runner Pedro Arieta did something really, really, really fucking nice during the Boston Marathon.

If you’ve ever had a speculum shoved inside of you to crank your vagina more open than thought humanly possible, this is very welcome news.

These dudes spent 55 days LOST AT FUCKING SEA. We think every sane person has a healthy and deep-seated fear of the ocean.

The National Institute of Health will no longer be torturing beagles for the sake of science.

A dolphin that became stranded in a South Carolina lagoon got the Free Willy treatment.

This absolute badass 26-year-old Frau survived 11 nights in the wild terror that is the Australian bush after sustaining a fucking concussion. At 26 years old, I could barely survive a night out at the bar.

This is just like that one Jason Statham movie where he has to keep his heart rate at a certain level or else it would explode, but much more heartwarming.

The People’s Princess, Pamela Anderson, is selling pickles made from a family recipe to benefit the California Wildlife Center.

These teenagers proved that not all youth are no good hoodlums who only care about Snapchat and rizz!

Amsterdam is building itty-bitty staircases to help cats from getting stuck in the canals.

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In the cutest news ever: a boy who grew up obsessed with trains is now one of the youngest train drivers in the UK. Get this kid on Love on the Spectrum already!

This deaf cat named Mittens went from being a dumpster baby to having a fan club follow her while she struts around on the beach in an itty-bitty little hat.

We’re suspicious how this contest works, but a big ass congrats is in order, Liverpool!

After spending 40 years on the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency Area of Concern list – which is exactly what it sounds like — a lake in Michigan has been declared free of toxic waste. Take that, corporate polluting fucks! All it took was four decades and $84 million.

That divorce settlement is burning a hole in MacKenzie Scott’s pocket: the philanthropist just donated $50 million big ones to support Native American college students.

Twenty-three Colombian miners who lived our nightmare of being trapped underground were rescued after being stuck in a collapsed mine for 43 hours.

Ireland is making official a universal income program for artists. Those radical bastards!

This guy in Cornwall is turning discarded fishing nets into food for 3D printers, and he’s making a fortune. Someone, wife this man up now.

Inspired by a video of a man and his dog being reunited in the aftermath of the Palisades fire (watch it and try not to cry so hard you vomit, we dare you!), California passed a new law requiring cities and counties to develop plans for retrieving pets from evacuation zones.

Eleanor and Lyle Gittens, the world’s longest married couple, shared their advice for not killing your spouse for breathing too loudly or chewing with their mouth open.

Australia is killing the solar game so fucking hard, it’s thinking about giving everyone free electricity.

This doggy was just trying to make his morning commute! Thank the gods it turned out how it did, because this video could have looked a lot different.

Stories like this remind us that people aren’t so fucking awful after all: a woman in Louisiana went weeks without electricity and heat due to the power company’s stupid no-payment-plan policy. The community pitched in and paid her bill.

When one airline denies a refund to a victim of a mass stabbing, it’s just an opportunity for another airline to dunk on them.

We love old-people weddings. We love old-people-weddings-in-a-pool even more.

This old biddy from the Midwest said, “Fuck it,” and became the oldest person to hike the entirety of the Appalachian Trail. Absolute fucking legend.

This sounds like a vision your brain would make up while in a horrifying state of sleep paralysis, but it’s actually pretty fucking cool: a woman with Parkinson’s played the clarinet while undergoing brain surgery.

Imagine gradually losing your vision and then BOOM! Scientists come up with this wild shit.

Fresh off the dogs-are-the-fucking-best news desk, this nonprofit that provides doggy best friends for veterans at risk for depression and suicide celebrated its 300th adoption.

Kenya overturned a completely fucked law that threatened farmers with PRISON if they shared or sold indigenous seeds.

This totally dope kayak was repatriated to the Inuvialuit people of the Arctic.

Wild

A super pod of dolphins was spotted off the coast of California. You read that right: A SUPER POD OF DOLPHINS.

Two manatee sisters were released back into the wild waters of the Caribbean after being nursed back to health for five years.

Scientists discovered a new dinosaur that had very creepy hands.

In Tanzania, a badass gang of giant rats might turn the tide on illegal wildlife trafficking.

A planned dam to protect the Klabava River in the Czech Republic had been floundering since 2018 until a family of beavers stepped in, did their damn thing, and saved Czech taxpayers tens of millions.

A newly discovered spider is named after conservation Grandaddy Sir David Attenborough.

Bravo to the surely very satisfied journalist who wrote this headline about a wildlife conservation center raising a damn good sum to restore a destroyed deer shelter.

The absolutely drop-dead fucking gorgeous giant pink slug is in its comeback era.

The Smithsonian Magazine published its top pics for its Wildlife Photographer of the Year Contest.

Join us in hysterically crying with joy and sadness and wonder and gaze upon this fucking incredible photo of an intimate moment between a baby polar bear and its mama.

Speaking of hysterically crying, a superpod of 2,000 dolphins was spotted splishing and splashing off the California coast.

Four hundred years after being hunted to extinction, British beavers are like, “We’re back, bitches!”

This beautiful squid that kind of looks like a yassified uterus was filmed in its natural environment for the first time in 100 years.

Sea Turtles are back, bitches, and we couldn’t be happier for them.

An endangered pod of orcas welcomed a new behbeh.

An adorable box turtle named Rockalina, who hadn’t been outside in 50 years, finally got to see the sun. We’re not screaming, crying and throwing up, you are!

In more science news, researchers discovered an old-as-fuck fossil containing an insect called a “hell ant.” Don’t worry, they’re extinct.

Screaming, crying, throwing up: A little baby donkey in Scotland has two moms.

We have major FOMO for missing out on this year’s hit Swedish TV show about moose migrating.

In probably the best “taking one for the team” ever, a badass (psycho?) endured 200 poisonous snake bites and more than 700 injections of venom over two decades to pretty much turn his blood into the most powerful anti-venom known to man.

BABY ANIMALS WITH THEIR MOMMIES. Click it. FUCKING CLICK IT.

Scientists discovered that chimps be chatting.

Twenty-eight toadlets (😭😭😭😭😭) who were released into a national park in the UK in 2021 are now all grown up and making sweet sweet love in a remarkable comeback.

We are cheering for this sneakerhead fox in the Grand Tetons, who is building his collection at the expense of campers.

South Korean activists are lobbying to grant bottlenose dolphins personhood to protect them from humans. All we have to say is, fuck yes.

Indonesian authorities rescued more than 1,000 rare birds from being smuggled out of the country.

Colorado is building the world’s largest wildlife crossing bridge, which leads us to a number of questions:

Will animals get annoyed at traffic the same way people do?

Will stereotypes emerge about which animals can’t navigate the bridge well?

The pressure is on for a Sumatran tiger named Dao to save his species, but researchers are hopeful.

Lynx are sooooo back in Northumberland.

Save the bees indeed! Scientists are working their little booties off developing a superfood that will make the honeybees outlive us all.

Chesapeake Bay is getting lit, and we are here for it.

Yeah, these are cute, but we’re adults and don’t need our food products to look like fucking toys. Good for Australia!

National Geographic re-published legend Jane Goodall’s 1963 article about the chimpanzees of Gombe River Game Reserve. It’s a fucking gorgeous article, might be the best piece of conservation journalism of all time, and you should read it right now. RIP to the baddest to ever do it.

In our next life, we want to be this bear.

The tallest tree in the Amazon is giving pick me energy.

When the green sea turtle was approaching extinction, it said, “psych, motherfuckers!” As of last week, these guys are no longer part of the endangered species club.

This town in Newfoundland is campaigning to relocate 30 beluga whales from the horrific prison of an amusement park to an inlet off of the town’s coast. In the name of Raffi, we urge the Canadian government to allow the transfer.

In more sealife news, much like humans do when trying to save their failing marriages, a pod of orcas that hangs out off the coast of Scilly has possibly added a third to the mix. Unlike humans, this is good news for the future survival of the pod.

A three-legged lion named Jacob is living his best life and we are here for it.

A stunning and rare white Iberian lynx decided to strut its stuff for the luckiest amateur photographer on earth.

Lemurs in Madagascar are banging at unprecedented levels.

There are drugs, and then there’s the feeling of spending five years searching for one of the planet’s rarest whales when one day, two of them swim right by your research boat.

PUFFINS!

The world’s oldest pygmy hippo had a very appropriately themed 52nd birthday.

Remember last week when we linked a story about a town in Canada that was petitioning the government to approve a whale sanctuary off their coastline for more than 30 beluga whales who have been imprisoned in one of those fucking archaic marine life amusement parks?

Well. Word on the street is that the plan was approved, and these whales are one step closer to escaping their current hell. We’ll be celebrating by bumping Baby Beluga for the rest of the weekend.

In omg-that’s-cute-as-hell-news, a teeny tiny crab and a glow-in-the-dark shark were discovered by a group of Aussie scientists exploring the unplumbed depths of the ocean.

English wild beavers are back, baby.

These damn adorable whales are on the up-and-up.

How fast do you think they were going?

Weird

In Canada, six people were charged in connection to the theft of $60,000 worth of…wait for it… butter. We don’t know about you, but we would like to know more. Is there an underground market for stolen butter? Is it run by a group of crazed Julia Child superfans? Are they eating it?! Rubbing it on their bodies?! Inquiring minds want to know.

Who knew fossilized vomit could be so beautiful?

Scientists in Florida are studying bioluminescent assholes.

In this-is-more-relatable-than-we’d-like-to-admit-news, a possum was rushed to the hospital after it ate an entire sheet cake from Costco.

Unless you’re off-grid ala Ted Kazinsky, you’ve certainly seen news reports of a young man being SWALLOWED AND SPIT OUT BY A FUCKING WHALE, but it bears repeating.

A woman in Fukuoka, Japan, went completely batshit off the fucking rails and did the unthinkable. Fortunately, she was apprehended and swiftly brought to justice.

A Polish general was shit-canned after he lost some fucking explosives that were eventually located in an Ikea. AN IKEA.

The story of these dollar store bandits in Florida fills us with both confusion and admiration.

Imagine being the archaeologist on the team assigned to excavating the dog wang.

Same, kid. Same.

A beloved weed dealer known locally as “Gandolf” received an outpouring of support after he was arrested for illegally selling the devil’s lettuce.

An attorney in Bangalore bravely fought against annoyingly long movie trailers and emerged triumphant.

We are here for the energy of this parrot in Sweden, who screamed “fuck you!” at firefighters

who rescued him from a tree he was stuck in.

For some unholy fucking reason, last week, Beijing hosted the first-ever humanoid robot half-marathon.

TW: Quicksand. A Lake Michigan beach tried to eat this man. He walked away with a girlfriend.

A man in England unknowingly bought his own car two months after it was stolen.

The Guardian is doing the lord’s work with this article about two historians debating at length about the number of penises featured in a medieval tapestry.

A college student living in Japan was rescued by helicopter last Tuesday after attempting to climb Mt. Fuji, which is currently closed to the public. It turns out he left his cell phone on the mountain. Oops! He returned five days later to find it, only to be rescued AGAIN. This fucking guy!

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We can’t tell if we love this or hate this, but we do love the shit-eating grin in her mugshot.

Nearly a million dollars in dimes spilled all over a Texas highway after a semi-truck crash.

This sea lion likes to get down to sick disco beats, showing researchers in California that human beings are not the only creatures that like to just fucking dance every once in a while.

A tourist in Rome, Vlad-the-Impalered himself.

Cops in Georgia forgot where they left a convicted killer, and panic ensued.

We’re not sure what’s more shocking: the fact that at 55 years old, this woman is smoking meth and somehow still alive, or that that clearly isn’t the first time that raccoon has gotten a hold of that meth pipe.

This poor woman lived everyone’s nightmare as Amazon delivered hundreds of car seat covers to her house for more than a year.

Chimpanzees are sticking things in their butts for fashion. Can relate.

Two hospital employees in New Zealand ended up in the emergency room after their co-worker brought a dosed cake to a potluck.

We fail to see the problem with this.

In an astonishing feat of athleticism and possible alcoholism, a 30-year-old Canadian just won the prestigious Beer Mile World Championship for the fifth time in a row.

In more booze news, popular energy drink Celsius “accidentally” filled some of their cans with vodka, which is either a delightful and unpleasant surprise for unsuspecting customers.

In one of our favorite cases of a skeleton being dug out of a politician’s closet, a video of the deputy leader of the Green Party has resurfaced, showing him trying to use hypnotherapy on a woman to enlarge her breasts. He’s got our vote.

A surgeon in the UK with an insatiable sexual appetite for missing limbs convinced insurers that he needed BOTH of his legs amputated. Now he has no legs and is serving 32 months in prison for fraud.

Taco Bell drive-thru attendant may be the only job safe from AI.

A teaching assistant in South Carolina was arrested for spending one month secretly spraying fart spray in the high school where he worked. He sprayed so much that several students sought medical attention, and the school incurred more than $55K in damages. This man’s mugshot looks like this is exactly his crime.

In other criminal news, a black swan was removed from a small town in England for trying to drown other birds.

A guy in New Jersey hung socks from his trunk to cover his license plate to avoid paying tolls. A for effort, sir.

Portland said, “fuck you!” to the man and got naked.

The rollercoaster from the headline to the second sentence is a lesson in physics.

As if men couldn’t get more disgusting, a subreddit about maximizing loads has nearly 50,000 members.

Now, everyone’s Dad who thinks music just isn’t the same these days can live out their dreams.

We’re guessing this guy was cleaning out his attic and was like, “Ew. I forgot I had this.”

Next time your flight is delayed, remember that it could always be worse.

An eagle tried to use a cat to final destination a driver in North Carolina.

We applaud this prisoner’s determination to defend his rights to bad taste.

This guy just needed a hand helping his son with math homework, and what he got was a mission to save the world and a mental health crisis.

A young woman in Scotland committed to the bit so hardcore, she faked a full-ass pregnancy, complete with a prosthetic bump, fake scans, and one of those creepy as shit real reborn dolls.

Scientists have discovered that while air comes out of our assholes, it can also go in. The discovery has led to a miracle treatment called “rectal oxygen delivery.”

An AI security system in Baltimore is keeping the people safe from Doritos.

Imagine being the officer assigned to waiting for this man to shit out the Fabergé egg.

We’d put money on many IRS employees already being quite familiar with the content.

This might be our new obsession.

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It’s the most wonderful time of the year to scroll the Am I the Asshole Subreddit. Monstrous in-laws abound, ungrateful children are aplenty, and there are more than enough mismanaged expectations to go around. Here’s The Wildest Am I the Asshole Posts from Reddit: Part 2.

Note: Titles of the posts are published as written. Those aren’t our typos, so calm the fuck down.

AITA for not inviting my husbands family to Christmas?

OP is a new mom and still healing from giving birth to her two-month-old spawn. The idea of Christmas with the whole fam-damily is overwhelming, and her husband agrees to a really small, teeny-tiny gathering with their nearest and dearest — real low-key. Husband’s parents, with whom they have a strained relationship, are not invited. You can imagine how shit hits the fan when MIL finds out. This story ends in a possible restraining order and an old bat ranting about grandparents’ rights.

WIBTA if I brought a Christmas dish to Christmas?

OP is a fully grown-ass adult man, and he’s had it up to here with his mom always making tacos for Christmas dinner. His wife doesn’t like tacos either, as it triggers her acid reflux. Mom announced that once again, Christmas dinner will be tacos and OP was like, “again!? But whyyyyyy whyyyy must you choose the dish you are serving for the event you are hosting?!” He wants to bring a dish so he and wifey don’t get stuck eating tacos AGAIN, and is wondering, if perchance, that makes him an asshole. The comments are surprisingly divided.

WIBTA if I insist my adult daughter participate in secret Santa if she’d like Christmas gifts

OP, who seems to really dislike her 19-year-old daughter, who seems to be trying her best to make it in the world after being raised by OP. Like many new adults, she spends some of her income on weed and DoorDash. For all Christmases past, adults of the family would each get the kids of the family a gift, then exchange Secret Santa gifts among themselves. The exchange has a gift limit of $150-$250. OP is seeking advice on how to tell her daughter that if she wants to get Christmas presents, she’s gonna have to be a grown-up and do Secret Santa with the rest of the adults. OP sticks the landing on an Olympic-level performance of right-idea, wrong-delivery.

AITA for ‘Cancelling’ Christmas?

OP and her husband host the family Christmas party. Every. Single. Fucking. Year. She’s dreaming of a low-key holiday, maybe some takeout and a movie, or hell, even a relaxing vacation with just the two of them! OP shared her dreams of a stress-free Christmas with her husband, and he was like, “fuuuuuuc yeah, let’s do it!” So they decide to forgo hosting NEXT year (note: NEXT year, not this year). When they gave their families the heads up that 12 months from now, someone else will need to host Christmas, they lost their shit.

AITA for not babysitting my grandkids on Christmas so they can go to a football game

OP, who has two grandkids aged 4 and 6 by her son and daughter-in-law, is hosting Christmas dinner. Her son calls her ONE WEEK before the big day, asking her to watch her toddler and barely-not-a-toddler grandkids all day Christmas until he and his wife come for dinner. Yes, you read that right – the dinner that OP will be working on by herself all day to prepare. Yes, you also read that right, too – on Christmas Day. Why, pray tell, do these parents of young children need a babysitter on the most magical day of the year? They have tickets to a football game. Yeah. OP is like, “um, no, I can’t watch your kids all Christmas cause I’ll be cooking the dinner you are going to come eat later with the rest of the family.” OP’s son is such a nice guy and not at all a piece of shit and tells his mother that if she won’t watch his kids while he’s jerking it to football with his also not at all a piece of shit wife, then they won’t be at Christmas dinner.

AITA for destroying family Christmas?

This one is…interesting. OP has been married for two years, and they have a one-year-old behbeh. OP’s mom gets him lavish presents each Christmas, with wife and son getting nothing. Nada. Zip. Not a damn thing. OP sat down with his mom to gently explain that while he knows she isn’t being malicious, it is coming across as a slight. Mom freaks out, calls the wife entitled, and says she ain’t hosting Christmas anymore. OP is like, “OK, cool, I’ll host Christmas.” Mom is like, “OK, cool, I’m not coming.”

OP mailed a gift to this woman who somehow raised him, and SHE SENT IT BACK. Christmas Day come,s and OP and his wife host his sisters and their families. The sisters act like ungrateful See You Next Tuesdays and accuse him of ruining Christmas.

AITA for banning alcohol from Christmas.

OP and her husband are hosting Christmas this year, and her in-laws like their holidays with a side of DRANK. OP is a teetotaler and casts a judgmental eye at those who imbibe. She’s decided that since Christmas is on her turf, Christmas will happen under her rule, and that rule is no booze. Sister-in-law caught wind of this and decided she is hosting an alcohol-soaked Christmas rager that everyone is going to go to instead, which is hard to believe because OP sounds like a really fun person who knows how to have a great time while not making her personal choices other people’s burdens.

OP and her husband are invited to the gathering, but she is putting her foot down and insisting they spend Christmas alone, sans family and sans booze.

AITA for telling my dad that my step-mom took all my Christmas gifs, including a car?

This one has a few moving parts, so pay attention, damnit. OP is writing to us from the land of teen. OP’s dad comes from fat cats, big money, high-falutin types. Dad’s family never approved of him fraternizing with OP’s mom, so OP didn’t see her dad for the first oh, TEN YEARS of her life. Dad seems to have stepped up, though, and is now present in OP’s life.

OP’s mom married Melissa when OP was 7. Melissa has a little demon bitch daughter named Grace. Grace bullied OP for not having a present father until she was 10, which is a really cool and not at all fucked up thing to tease someone about. Grace’s dad was present until he moved two states away.

Fast forward. OP is 16 years old, and Grace is college-bound and about to move out. OP’s dad comes by to drop off OP’s Christmas present, including a brand new car. When Melissa and Grace came home, they thought the car was for GRACE, from her dad, but alas. Grace’s dad calls and says he is sorry he can’t make it to drop off presents, and have a nice life. Grace was understandably upset. OP asks what she can do to help, and Melissa is like, “I’ll show you!” and starts gathering OP’s Christmas presents, and drives away in OP’s new car.

OP calls her dad, who threatens to call the police and report the items and the car as stolen if they aren’t returned promptly. Melissa, a full-grown ass adult woman, is now saying that OP ruined Christmas.

AITA for refusing to participate in Christmas activities with my wife and kids?

OP and his wife have three kids (2, 5, and 12). Wife didn’t have much of a childhood, and loves to go balls to the wall during the happiest of seasons to make the holiday season special for the kids — Santa, gingerbread, lights, tree, the whole shebang. OP, who isn’t a fucking asshole at all, finds this all to be really annoying and wants to enjoy his time off not participating in anything holiday related, which is funny cause you would think that someone who values their precious free time so much they can’t be bothered to help their spouse put up a Christmas tree wouldn’t start a family in the first place. The comments on this one are chef’s kiss.