FriscoKid

A digital nomad is basically someone who travels the world, often grifting, while pretending to hold some sort of gainful employment. They sit in cafés, always purchasing the least expensive item on the menu, with a laptop open and free WiFi at the ready, occasionally typing something just so the barista doesn’t ask them to leave. Behind the scenes, they’re usually living off some form of passive income, cryptocurrency gains, or their parents’ credit card. They post photos on social media of themselves ‘working’ on the beach, even though sand and laptops famously don’t mix, and call it a career. In short, it’s like being unemployed, but with better scenery and a slightly smug looking Instagram feed, while desperately hoping other people admire them. However, it is strongly advised that you do not even consider this as a suitable vocation for yourself. Stick to what you know best. Mop till you drop!

But I can't. I tried to, but it broke my calculator.

Yes, they do both worship Trump like he's a god. It is hard to imagine that there could indeed be more than one like that, but they are actually two separate, obsessed trolls.

You mean Hunter's laptop with all of Hillary's emails on there?

Trump's new fiancée

What's wrong with GG: Can we even count the ways?

Do you ever post anything on topic or do you only stalk people?

I use both hands. And I am ambidextrous. Next...

What's with your stalker obsession?

Pathetic stalker troll

Ah, so you have the same basement fetish as Susan. Are you going to be joining him when he escapes his basement to rent a car and drive around your Motherland, Cambodia?

The word normal does not exist in any sphere of existence within your world.

But Hunter's laptop, Hillary's emails, Trump is always winning and Making America Grotesque Again! 😂

Hunter's laptop innit!

Shouldn't be long now before the axe falls. Laws are for little people! April 17 (Reuters) - President Donald Trump has privately discussed firing Federal Reserve Chair Jerome Powell for months and talked about it with former Fed Governor Kevin Warsh, including the possibility of then selecting Warsh as Powell's replacement, the Wall Street Journal reported on Thursday. Warsh has advised against trying to fire Powell, arguing that Trump should let the Fed chair complete his term without interference, the Journal reported, citing unnamed people familiar with the matter. The report comes the same day that Trump has repeatedly lashed out at Powell, whose term as Fed chair expires in May 2026. Warsh served as a Fed governor from February 2006 to April 2011. He was appointed by President George W. Bush. The Journal said the discussions with Warsh took place at Trump's Mar-a-Lago estate in Florida in February, but others close to the president had discussed the matter as recently as March. Trump has not made a final decision about whether to try to fire Powell before his term ends, a matter that would likely be challenged all the way to the Supreme Court. The Federal Reserve Act of 1913 stipulates that Fed leaders may only be dismissed "for cause," and Powell himself has said his firing would not be "permitted under the law." The White House did not immediately respond to a request for comment. There was no immediate response to Reuters emails and calls to Warsh for comment. https://www.reuters.com/world/us/trump-has-discussed-firing-feds-powell-with-warsh-eyed-possibe-successor-wsj-2025-04-17/

Just like Trump, the quitter.

Oh, you are just too kind. Now why don't you scurry off and go back to playing with your floating turds in the bathtub.

Wow, that has to be one of the most bizarre responses I’ve seen so far. A truly warped perspective. You’re essentially saying anyone who believed him was stupid, and honestly, I agree. It’s hard to argue with that. But are we really expected to just accept that presidential candidates will straight up lie about what they’re going to do? Your comments are on another level of delusion I don’t think I’ve ever witnessed. Rationalizing straight up lies because you are so brainwashed by his rhetoric. Unbelievable. You just can't find any fault with him at all, can you? And as for your point about people wanting something to whine about with Trump every day, no, absolutely not. I would have praised him if he had ended the war on day one as promised or played any meaningful role in ending it even after 90 days. What I didn’t expect was for him to blatantly throw in the towel and just give up. That’s the part I never saw coming. I assumed he’d at least keep the lie going, pretend he was making progress, even if he wasn’t. But no, he just gave up, arms in the air. The guy’s an outright quitter. He also immediately reversed course on several of his biggest tariff promises. Within a week, he canceled tariffs on smartphones, computer components, automobiles, and car parts, two major campaign promises already flushed. He claimed he’d reduce food prices and basic necessities, yet we’ve seen no sign of that. In fact, the indicators show costs are likely to rise with the tariffs. Meanwhile, he’s tanked my stock portfolio. I could go on, but what’s the point? He’s a one-man disaster with clothes on.

He’s easily one of the biggest serial pests on the site, and each version of him seems to get worse. Every time he’s banned and returns under a new account, he somehow manages to become even more detestable. I don’t say that lightly, there aren’t many people on this site I’d say that about. Even some of the more extreme right-wing political trolls, I tend to just ignore. But this Australian guy is on a whole different level. His level of repugnance is something else entirely.

You fancy him?

Way back in my glitter-queen party days, when I first flounced into Thailand with a suitcase full of mesh tops and questionable dildos, I ended up on The Islands — a place where morals went to die and everyone was either queer, high, hot, or all the above. Now girls, back then the islands were like a gay fever dream. You could get anything your little heart desired. Party favours, jungle juice, boys named Peachy — it was like a Pride float crashed into a pharmacy. I met a hottie there — let’s call him Vito the Diva. He was from my neck of the woods and we bonded instantly over shared trauma and a mutual appreciation for coconut oil and chaos. We became inseparable. But while I kept it classy with vodka Red Bulls and emotionally unavailable bartenders, Vito was into these little pink tabs that sparkled like sin and could be smoked in a pipe shaped like a penis. I wasn’t judging, but I did keep one foot out the door in case the Feds showed up with latex gloves and questions. Cut to one night at 4:30 in the morning, I get a call. Vito had been arrested for possession of his sparkly treats. They wanted to know if I could help with bail — one hundred thousand baht. Babes, at that time I didn’t even have two sequins to rub together. I was couch-surfing between sugar daddies and living off minibar peanuts. So I had to say no, and apparently the police had taken his passport too, probably because they fancied the photo. Nearly a week passed. I assumed poor Vito was rotting in some humid hellhole eating rice and staring at his todger. But then a mutual friend — let’s call him Glitter Greg — told me Vito had scraped together the funds, posted bail, and was out. Court date set, wig intact. But then the plot twisted harder than a RuPaul lip-sync. A few days later, Greg whispered that Vito had somehow escaped Thailand altogether. No passport, no documents, no dignity left, and yet he made it across the border into Cambodia and into a “safe house” which I assume had throw pillows and blackout curtains. From there he flounced into the embassy, got an emergency travel document, and sashayed all the way back home. He messaged me once — mysterious, cryptic, very “Jason Bourne in heels” — but refused to spill the tea on how he pulled it off. All he said was, “A lady never tells.” Fifteen years have passed. Last I heard, Vito found Jesus, got married, and lives a quiet life somewhere rural where the gays wear cargo shorts and don’t speak of the past. But I’ve always wondered — how the hell did he cross into Cambodia with no passport? Was there a special wink wink and a wad of baht under the table? A flirtation with a border guard? A bribe in a jockstrap? Or did he trade his back door for an entry? If anyone else has been in a similar situation or knows how he might’ve pulled off this great escape, do spill. I’m still dying to know what he did — and more importantly, who he did it with. Yours in mystery and marabou, The Dink.

And it runs straight up and down the line within his administration. From top to bottom, but far more at the top.

Which one? There are dozens in the country I'm in.

Seriously, Bob? When you woke up with a hangover this morning, you thought this was actually an interesting topic for discussion? Really? You've got that little to talk about? Unbelievable, but not unsurprising.

Do they actually offer classes on how to post the stupidest things possible on a forum? Well, if they don't, the good news is that you could immediately be hired to teach the classes.