rSlash - r/Prorevenge Cruel Bully Gets BANNED!
Episode Date: July 17, 2019🛒 NEW MERCH! http://bit.ly/rSlashMerch r/Prorevenge In this story, OP gets ridiculed by a narcissistic bully and her friend. She endures it until the bully makes a mistake and posts the wrong thin...g online! OP takes action and reveals the bully for the terrible person she is, and things go downhill from there! If you enjoy this funny Reddit story video, hit subscribe because I publish new videos every day! 💗 Support Me: http://bit.ly/supportRSLASH 😈 r/Prorevenge - 1,000,000 Sub Special! rSlash FACE REVEAL! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBCQseayRQk&list=PLQWFBACAObMj6W6NyJvSBp_kj2HI33iXN&index=21 🔔 Subscribe! https://bit.ly/2E3A8i6 👍 Like this video if you want to see more! 💬 Join my Discord: https://discord.gg/Rtwc9ZC 🐦 Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/rslashyt 🎧 Spotify Podcasts: http://bit.ly/rSlashSpotify 🔊 Podcasts on other Platforms: http://bit.ly/rSlashPodcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices
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You're flying to meet with a new supplier to keep your business growing.
And with the business platinum card from American Express,
you can earn $820 in new value and more,
which includes a $200 travel credit toward your flight.
Now, boarding business class.
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Terms and conditions apply as at mx.ca-slaosh-business-platinum.
Welcome to R-Slaosh Pro Revenge. We're a spoiled millionaire, gets her life ruined. This all took place
five years ago in the beginning. I've lived my whole life in Russia, except for the four and a half
years I lived in the eastern part of the United States, life in Russia, except for the four and a half years I lived in the
eastern part of the United States, where I went to college for a degree in engineering after
completing my one year of national service.
There are lots of good schools here, but I originally had the intention of moving to
America permanently.
I have relatives who live in North America, so I was invited to stay with them during
this time.
It turned out I didn't really stay with any of them.
Because I'm tall and good at sports, I also did high jump in basketball while in school.
I was never that good, but adequate enough to make the team to such a degree that I was
retroactively given a small athletic subsidy while already enrolled.
It made my tuition slightly cheaper, which for an international student was a concern.
Even if my parents were high status regarding money.
While enrolled in college, I met my soon-to-be girlfriend, Natalia.
A girl originally from Connecticut and from a very wealthy family.
Her major was fine arts, and we met in an English class and began dating.
Natalia was a little more than two years ahead of me in her studies age wise, but we became
a series enough couple to where I took an apartment outside of campus and she moved in with
me.
Her parents' house wasn't far from campus, but she chose to stay in my apartment mostly
because I don't think she wanted to bring me to her house too often.
Maybe her parents didn't approve of me, or maybe she didn't approve of me enough to
show me to her parents very much.
We had a good relationship, or at least I thought it was good.
She never complained, and always liked to show off that we're a couple.
She was the first person I knew in my circles who owned a selfie stick, and she would take
it with us, and everything was a photo
opportunity.
I didn't have any social media at the time but I made one just so that she could tag
me in her posts.
Eventually all her social media friends added me as a friend also and since many people
from my hometown had social media too they saw me and added me as well.
Among Natalie's friend group, people called
me Drago, which is dumb because I don't think I look like Ivan Drago. Natalia makes no
secret to me of the fact that she's from a wealthy family, and tells me that she has
a trust fund that will paper her lifestyle her whole life, and she doesn't even really
need to attend college. I'm from a privileged background too, but I don't have a trust fund myself.
My father owns a small hotel outright, and where we come from, that means you're rich like
Steve Jobs, in a relative sense. So, sometimes in the mail, Natalia would get these bank statements
that just tell her how much money she has in her trust fund, how much interest it made, and what her dividend, or in other words, her
allowance for the month is.
It's for this reason that Natalia is in no particular hurry to finish school, which
is why at the time she was already 23 but only barely a sophomore.
Natalia would show these statements to me and leave them lying around the house.
They didn't have her whole bank account number listed on them anyway. They just showed
balances and the name of her bank. My parents and my athletics paid for a good amount of
my expenses, but I still worked on campus at the bookstore to earn money. Natalia didn't
work. I didn't really have many issues with Natalia. She's seen friendly enough, was
pretty, and good company.
We had lots of things to talk about, and we had fun together.
Or at least, I had fun, and I thought she had fun too.
I didn't know if I ever wanted to marry her, but I didn't rule out the idea.
One thing I didn't like about her was the fact that she was very dramatic and very prone
to panic.
For example, if we were at a department store where she wants to buy a particular thing,
and her favorite personal shopper isn't available, she'll act like it's the end of the
world.
She wasn't above making scenes.
She'd also be a bit short and rude with restaurant staff.
One thing that I thought was a bit disingenuous of her was that although she was a millionaire,
she liked to pretend to be poor.
Not that there's anything wrong with not flashing your wealth because there isn't.
What I mean is that she tried to act like she came up rough and that she was making life
happen on her own, if I make sense.
She tried to act like she was down for the cause, as some say.
It's kind of like when rich suburban kids try too hard to copy how things happen in a
hip-hop video.
Except Natalia wasn't trying to be a white female tupac.
She tried to do this bohemian artist thing and pretend to some people that she was living
on a shoestring.
Around me, she was more herself. Or really, I don't know which shelf is her real self.
All I know is that she isn't poor, but she pretends to be in certain company.
Well moving on. Eventually Natalia tells me, OP, what do you think about having an open relationship?
I didn't really know anything about open relationships, but when Natalia explained what
they were, I told her I wasn't interested in anything like that.
I asked her if she wanted to be in one, and is that why she's asking, but she said no.
That she just read something about open relationships. From my now perspective, I know she probably had someone or some people in mind who she wanted to
date or passionately hug with, or she already had been doing these things with one or more people
but just hadn't told me about it yet. Natalia has had her inner reproductive organs surgically cut so that she couldn't
have children. I bring this up because she brought it up to me when she was practically
begging me to have unprotected passionate hugging with her and I was worried about maybe getting
her pregnant when she didn't want to be. She showed me the actual paperwork for the procedure by emailing me a
PDF document that she received from her doctor. I only thought about it after the whole open
relationship discussion because up until then, we had been having passion at hugging without
a condom and I assumed I was her only partner. And I knew for a fact I was clean, but now I was worried whether or not she was actually
clean.
But for a couple weeks more, things appear to be going on as normal.
She assured me over and over again that she had no other partners, and so, like a fool,
I continued to have unprotected passionate hugging with her.
Suddenly though, within the month, Natalia tells me she needs to move out, that our relationship
isn't working out.
Okay I think I'm sad to see you go but can we be friends?
Antir attitude is, yeah of course we can be friends.
Even then I knew she probably met someone or had always been with that person
and was now just ready to move on for me. My attitude is, well, most girls come and
go, that's life. I'm sure many women have the same approach to guys. She left a lot
of her stuff behind, like clothes and papers, including her bank statements that had her
trust fund info on them.
I tell her, since we're friends, why don't you come buy and get your stuff?
Or I'll bring it all to you.
She said, oh that's fine, I'll get them someday.
Could you please hold them for me?
And it isn't as though she had many things in my apartment.
I think she especially didn't want to have me bring this stuff to her house or her new place where she stayed because she had a new boyfriend. None of my business.
I never linked my social media to my phone or went to computers to check it because I just
didn't care about that sort of thing and I still don't. But I found out later that Natalia had
deleted and blocked me on social media almost immediately after she moved
out, and combed through her friends and deleted anyone who appeared to be one of my friends
from back home.
I was almost done with my degree, and over the next year completely lost touch with Natalia,
though I never argued with her or had an official falling out.
I assumed we just moved on with our lives.
I'd been accepted in another school one day away from my undergraduate college to complete
a master's degree and didn't want a waste time, so I hired a service to box up some of the
less important things in my house and forward them to my new apartment.
By this time, I'd bought a used car and so, with one suitcase, I could set myself up
for a few days while
I waited for the book of my furniture and other luggage.
I sent a text in a tallie and emailed her to, telling her where I was moving.
Of course, I rerouted all of her mail to go to her parents' house not long after she
moved out, because for a long time, she used my place as her address.
She wasn't thinking big picture enough to do it herself, otherwise
I could have kept getting her mail for a while. In my new hometown, I jumped head first
right into studying, and hardly even went home except to eat and sleep. I never even opened
a few of my boxes that contained things I wouldn't need like old textbooks or very happy
winter clothing, though stayed in their moving boxes.
So, after another year, I had my masters and moved back to Russia.
I'm happy because I'd managed to get a job right away in my chosen profession.
I sell my car and most of my reign of furniture on the internet.
I'd written down what's in each moving box on the outside of the box.
The boxes that contain nothing I needed right away
were kept sealed the entire time I was in my second American apartment. When I
arrived to my current home I finally opened all my boxes and realized that I
still had some of Natalia's old clothes from when we were a couple two and a half
three years ago. I even still had her old trust fund statements. I had over a
years worth of them,
which is about the length of time Natalia lived with me.
Since it had been such a long time
and we hadn't talked in years,
I assume she no longer wanted the things,
but I still didn't want to give them away
or throw them away without seeing what she had to say.
So for the first time in years, I check my social media
and I'm surprised to see that
she blocked me from sending her messages.
I tried to text her, but her numbers changed, or maybe she blocked me there too.
Anyway, she doesn't reply.
Same thing happens when I email her.
Why would she block me, I wonder?
I think it must be an internet problem.
I log out and just try looking at her social media as a random web user and have no problem
at all.
I see that she hasn't really changed, still pretty, still dressing up all quirky and
bohemian.
I feel kind of weird, but I take a little break from what I'm doing and just see what she's
been up to for the last couple years.
She's with some new guy now who looks
a little bit like me but with longer hair and less responsible.
Well, good for her. I can see that she really puts her whole life out there on social
media. Every little thing is worth an update from her. She is as dramatic as ever. I do notice
that she's a lot more political than she was before.
Well, that's good. It's always nice to believe in something passionately.
I'm not at all surprised to see that as usual, she portrays herself as a struggling artist,
who's making a way for herself in the big, bad city. Whatever works for you, Natalia, work it.
She talks trash about high fashion brands. How she never had anything growing up. How
she ate stew from grass as a child because she was so poor. She's really laying it
on thick. And also, she ripped off that story from me because I was telling her how my relatives
were forced to eat grass stew during the patriotic war because there wasn't much other food.
All of this is just her being a poacher, which doesn't affect me. But what does affect me
is when I see a post that mentioned me by name. Nat, that is so like your abusive ex OP OMG.
Her friend was referring to a picture
of how verbal abuse is just as damaging as physical abuse.
Natalia had replied,
yeah, OP really tried to destroy myself esteem.
He was also not shy about threatening me.
Lots of guys who were her friends on social media commented that they'd kill me or kick my butt if they ever saw me.
For most of them, I'd laugh because I would smash them like so many ants, especially how most of them are like wearing women's blue jeans.
I mean really, are you sure about that stick-ligs, sir? But right now, I am
furious because Natalia lied about me. Some of them were even seriously talking about naming
me to school administrators about having my degree canceled, or having me put on some kind
of a fender list. None of them bothered to keep in contact with me, so they didn't know I moved
back to Russia.
But they were also talking about reporting me to the police or having me arrested.
In other posts, Natalia also mentions me by name and actually accuses me of assaulting
her in various ways.
That I cheated through school.
That my parents are in the Russian mob?
Well, okay.
In every post, Natalia tried to come off like she was taking the high road by not reporting
me to authorities, and that it was her cross-tip air as a survivor.
Her friends were like lemmings, giving her electronic backpats about how courageous
she was.
Barf.
By a little digging, I saw that she broke up with a guy who I figured out was the man she
moved on to after me.
And he was getting slammed too.
And I'll assume he was also blocked on social media.
From piecing together what Natalia says to her friends on social media, it's clear
she's built up an image of being a struggling artist, and her current boyfriend also appears to believe she's
a struggling artist, and they share an apartment together.
I piece it together that the boyfriend works in 9-5, but he looks like a hipster type,
so maybe he's an artist too.
He looks like he's struggling to keep it all together.
They are totally into the act of a scene.
They're always talking about online funding for all kinds of charitable work.
Noble stuff, not being sarcastic.
Natalia smears me across platforms.
The book of many faces, the grams that are instant, the stupid blue bird app where people
unknowingly brag about how worthless their existences are.
Right away, I think of the bank statements I have that show Natalia is anything but struggling.
Because according to the statements I have, unless Natalia developed a $10,000 a day
coke habit over the past two years, and bought a Bentley and crashed into Taylor Swift and lost a court case,
she's getting just over six figures a year just sitting on her butt and will continue to earn
these funds in perpetuity. But then I think I've moved on and I'm happy. I don't even know Natalia
anymore. I don't really care what the social media losers think of me.
Until I see yet another post where Natalia makes this dramatic statement about how she is unable
to have babies as a result of a traumatic assault. To her credit, she didn't blame me for
this imaginary attack, but she was also trying to score social points by
pretending to be a victim.
I was even more convinced when she and her friends actually altered some of the picks of
me online that Natalia had once taken with her selfie stick, and exed out my face using
Photoshop paint.
The photos were captioned with all kinds of untrue slurs. Really harsh,
criminal accusations. Funny how all of them are so eager to accuse me of being a criminal,
and are talking about how they'll kick my butt if they see me. But none of them think
about telling the police about any supposed crimes I committed. Seems really lazy. She also blamed PTSD for the fact that she
was near 30 and still not graduated from college. I thought about somehow faking an account
and getting her to add me as a friend, but then while looking through a friend's list
and she had like a thousand friends, I saw that one of my friends was still on there.
My friend doesn't speak any English and he doesn't spend much time on social media either.
So he had no idea what any of these people were even saying.
I noticed even long ago that it was weird that Natalia didn't include her own parents
on her friends list.
But she explained that away by saying that they were too old and didn't do technology.
Maybe Natalia, but chill.
Your parents are like 52.
I suspect now, even then I suspected it.
It's because she wanted to build up a different persona online, and her rich parents would ruin
that image.
Through lots of digging, I figured out where Natalia works.
It's a non-profit. I finally decide out where Natalia works. It's a nonprofit.
I finally decide to return Natalia's things.
I put her old clothes, many of them really expensive designer shoes and purses, into a box
with her bank statements and addressed them to her nonprofit.
I don't actually write Natalia's name on the outside. I write her name on the inside, explaining
in a note that these items are all the things that she bought while she lived with me when
I was still in the USA. I figure they could raise many thousands of dollars if they sell
those things on eBay. I mean if Natalia, the owner, was willing to part with them of course.
It would be great for their non-profit.
Could you ask her about it?
A couple of days later, as for Natalia's actual bank statements, before mailing them in the
box, I collected some of her greatest hits online, where she posted pictures of herself
at rallies, bemoaning the 1%.
Complaining about her hard-knock life About how much she cared for others suffering
And I combine these photos on a photo editor
with scans of her bank statements
with red highlighter around her monthly allowance
How much she had in total
and how the funds would last forever
I also made sure to highlight the name of the originator of the trust she had in total and how the funds would last forever.
I also made sure to highlight the name of the originator of the trust, a quite well-known
name in American industry who was identified as her great-grandfather.
For each of the 12 statements, I add one of Natalia's hypocritical post about being poor, struggling, living check to check how
she depends on her art to survive.
My favorite salvo is where I screen capper post about how she's unable to have children
due to an attack.
I merged this with my PDF she sent me where she paid over $10,000 to have her tubes tied.
I made sure to highlight her parent's state and zip code on the invoice, though I crossed
off their exact address.
I made my point though that the procedure, which took place a few years ago, was when
she still lived with her parents in one of the most titanically expensive locations on
planet Earth.
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My Russian friend and I spent the next fun hours spamming the walls of all of Natalia's
friends. With these pictures that show she is rich and a liar. All of them we had access
to anyway and it was well over 300. We make sure to fire similar battleship broadsides to her over filtered and photoshopped account
where she's always thinking she has to lie to kick it.
And also send her and all her friends lots of bird calls on that other app.
The Fallout was hilarious.
The Denials sat in pathetic, but mostly hilarious too.
Credibility?
Oh, that credibility.
Oh, Natalia, it's destroyed.
Why is your boyfriend so mad at you?
Did all the organizations you've liked on social media like it when they saw you were sitting
on a fortune?
And yet claiming, I don't have any money starving artist low,
but I can offer my time or homemade brownies to he.
Day 1.
1200 Friends.
2700 Subscribers.
1000 Followers.
A week later.
600 Friends.
900 Subscribers. 400 Followers. Natalia, are you sure you're not James A week later, 600 friends, 900 subscribers, 400 followers.
Natalia, are you sure you're not James Charles?
My friend doesn't speak English, but he and I are waiting to see if he'll be the last
one eventually.
And anyway, social castration and death needs no translation.
Months after that.
I was curious to see later if she was online anymore.
Poof!
Her profiles were gone, or at least the one she'd been using for years.
I hope her boyfriend enjoyed his sudden come up.
It was probably an amazing day at the office for him to come home and learn that his Bohemian
hipster girlfriend was sitting on millions of dollars.
To this day, I have no real idea why Natalia would do this to me to begin with.
I was always nice to her and never even raised my voice to her.
I can't even remember one occasion where we actually argued. It's a mystery. What isn't a mystery is the fact that the nonprofit
actually called me long distance to thank me for the box. And they made sure Natalia got it.
I didn't try to make any secret that these items came from me, so if Natalia wants to
sue me for finishing a war she started, she can go right ahead. She will drown in her bunker beneath
her lies, and I will be break dancing and cripp walking, planting my flag on her rike
stag. Anyway, they said Natalia tried to deny the things were hers at first, but later
when she saw the bank statements, she tried to say I bought those things and was trying to smear
her.
Yeah, okay.
I bought a bunch of 9,000 euro purses and mailed them to strangers on the off chance it
might embarrass you.
Eventually, she took the papers, making some stupid claim that they were forgeries, but
left the big ticket items pretending
they weren't hers.
For what it's worth, the people at the non-profit knew the statements were legit and told
me so.
The girl who called me from the non-profit was asking me if she and the other girls could
have the items.
I've reminded her that the items were in atalias, but if she abandoned them, then I say
go to town. I asked if Natalia still abandoned them, then I say go to town.
I asked if Natalia still worked there, and if I could talk to her.
Oh no, sorry, they tell me.
Natalia moved back home with her parents.
Must be nice having such a luxurious eight-bit room fallback trench.
Live by the sword Natalia.
Enjoy getting impaled on it.
I hope you enjoyed finally getting your stuff back
from Russia with love.
This revenge story is colder than a Russian winter.
What I love is that OP brought down a freaking millionaire
from the other side of the world.
I mean, this Natalia was literally
someone with FU money. But Natalia, in Soviet Russia, FU money, FSU. That was our slash
pro revenge and this is our slash puppy bloopers. She'd also be a bit short and rude with restaurant staff.
She'd also be a bit short and rude with restaurant.
She'd also be a bit short and she'd also be a bit short and rude with restaurant.
Or she already had been doing these things with one orange. Natalia has had her
inner reproductive organs surgically cut. I was almost done with my degree. I was almost done with my degree. Since it had been such a long I can see
that she really puts her dog. What do you want, pooch?
You want to play.
But I gotta work.
I can't play pooch.
Sorry, bud.
Dog.
Nantalia had replied, we'll be back with more R-slash content right after this short
break.
Welcome to R-slash Pro pro revenge, where justice is served.
On New Year's Day of 2018, I resolved to get in shape.
I was never overweight, but growing up in Russia and spending my very early adulthood there,
I smoked like a chimney and my cardio was garbage.
Going to college in America didn't help matters because I started drinking to go along with
my smoking.
I decided to start going to spin class. I work at a marketing firm and chose a particular spin class
because I received a free year-long membership as a holiday office party present that year.
It was a generous gift because it was a trendy, pricey boutique spin studio.
I've written bikes my whole life, so I thought, how hard can it be to ride a bike that doesn't
go anywhere.
But my first day in class was a rude awakening.
It was clear that the class that I was attending, an early morning class for people to attend
before work, was an advanced one where a majority seemed to already be part of the culture
and very fit.
It was obvious I couldn't keep up.
The instructor was really nice and told me that since I'm new, it's a good idea for me
to write up front so that I can watch him and copy what he does more accurately.
Or alternatively, he can easily see what I'm doing and offer alternatives if I'm not
doing things right.
I thought, what a great guy and what a great class.
There were these two other students in the class though, who gradually made my morning
spin class suck.
Valerie was obviously very fit.
She looked like a model and obviously worked hard to look as good as she did.
Boris was her male equivalent.
They were both about my age, maybe a few years
older, but it was clear they were far more fit than me. They were obviously very invested
in that particular Jim's culture, in that they were always decked out in the store brand
athletic wear. I'm not gonna lie, they looked good wearing it. They weren't a couple, but it was obvious that Boris had a thing
for Valerie, and Valerie was aware of it and not reciprocating. Whatever they were doing, it wasn't
my business. That thing about both of them being far more fit than me, they didn't let me forget it.
For some reason, they seemed to take offense to the fact that I was riding up front.
I can see why. The front two rows were filled with the very strongest,
fittest people. The, let's take a selfie, sort of, gem people. Except, these ones seemed
actually fit. At the same time, all the other super-hard girls and guys, especially the guys,
were very nice to me and didn't seem to care
that I wrote up front. Whereas Valerie and Boris would always shoot these side-word disgusted
glances at me, or smirk. I'm not a confrontational person, so I wouldn't do the thing most would
do in that situation, such as say, the F is your problem, jerk. I always got to class super early to dress up and adjust my bike.
The gym has a policy.
First come, first serve when it comes to choosing one of the 30 bikes in the studio.
I noticed a lot of other people show up early who were also clearly less fit than the
stars that occupied the first couple of rows, but they seemed to self-segregate in the
very back.
I was still new as it was my first couple of weeks, so I sat up front because I was still
finding my rhythm.
I'd sit right up front where the instructor told me so that I could watch him and he could
watch me.
Every time he would come in, he would greet me enthusiastically and praise me for my
commitment to fitness.
It was little wonder his class was so popular.
Everyone held him in high regard.
Sometimes in class, he would shout encouragement to the class as a whole, but also give personal
shout-outs to certain students.
Despite the darkness of the room, when the instructor said,
great job there OP, you're killing it.
I noticed both Boris and Valerie give each other a look and shake their heads laughing.
I never knew for sure why Valerie hated me, but I think it might be because we were both Russian
and no one else who went to that early class seemed to be. And she wanted to be the only Eastern
European girl who knows. As for Boris, he followed Valerie because he wanted to get into her pants.
Boris and Valerie usually showed up right when class was starting and the whole place
was packed.
And yet they were so entitled that there were always two bugs up front right next to each
other reserved for them.
Despite the crowd at 5.30am, there were still a couple of empty bikes in the middle
of the back, but that wasn't good enough for them.
I'd be right in the front row too. I got there early, and it was my right to sit wherever I please.
And yet, despite them showing up at the last second, they shake their heads at me, like I'm the one
who's got a lot of nerve. Well, this goes on day after day for a whole month.
And despite the fact that I'm no longer new, and I'm starting to get more fit and don't
really need the instructor so much just to survive the hour on the bike, I still sit
up front.
I thought maybe the particular bike that I was selecting had some significance to Valor
Yaboris, and that's why they cop such an attitude all the time.
I always rode on the same bike.
By this time, I was a bit chummy with a lot of the other women and knew their names and
we'd hug in the morning.
I thought I should make peace with Valerie, if not Boris, who always sort of gave me
a, I hate you because Valerie hates you.
But if there was no Valerie, I'd totally go out with you, vibe.
So when I saw Valerie that morning, as usual, she showed up right when the class started
and sat next to me.
I politely asked, was this your bike before and you were used to it?
We can trade if you like.
She rolls her eyes at me and gives Boris a look.
And like a donkey, he smirks too.
She actually says, you should sit in the back, we're motivating people up
here and you're hogging the mirror space. There was a whole wall mirror in front of the
classroom. I'm thinking, what is this? High school? What the actual F? You've got to
be 30 F's years old and you're acting like this? And seriously, you may be thinner than
me, but I'm just as tall and don't weigh any more than you do.
Or take up any more space in the mirror,
and it wouldn't matter even if I did.
We're adults, or at least I am.
Sigh, that's what I wish I said.
Instead, I just put my head down and went on with my class.
Eventually, I got so familiar with the other students because the same regulars would
come to class every day that we all became social media friends.
I even became social media friends with the instructor.
I don't post much on social media.
I don't show where I work or every single thing I do or my random brainfarts.
I just post the occasional photo.
On one of these rare photos
where I was admittedly begging for approval
because I was proud of developing abs.
The spin instructor himself commented
how proud he was of me.
A lot of people from spin class also said nice things.
I was friends neither with Valerie nor Boris
on social media, but they both liked
the instructor's comment on my photo. And my guess social media, but they both liked the instructor's comment
on my photo.
And my guess is it's because they both liked to kiss his butt.
They certainly never showed me any kindness in class, unlike everyone else who was supportive
of me.
I clicked on their names, and my suspicions were confirmed.
Both of them practically lived on social media and took endless selfies.
Showed off their bodies, humble bragged, non-stop. They also made no secret of who their employers were.
Valerie tried to claim she was a model, even though it was clear her only real job was being
a sales rep for a beauty brand. Valerie was only a model in the take a picture of yourself using your iPhone in front of
the bathroom mirror since.
So Valerie, I guess that makes me a model too.
These two were such idiots that they'd post really dumb things on each other's walls.
It didn't seem like they really had lives other than to talk trash against people. I saw that they had one exchange where they were clearly talking
about me. How do I know? Because they actually said my name and said that I was ugly
and a wannabe and skinny fat and all this other horrible garbage. They also talked a
lot about other people in the class and said horrible things
and actually name names. It doesn't seem like they were friendly with other people, even the very
fit people who, in some cases, were even fitter. In terms of the class, they were social media
friends with the instructor and some of the other teachers on the schedule, and with each other,
but not with anyone else. Anyway, I actually confirmed my suspicion that Boris was low-key thirsty.
After the spin instructor made a nice comment on my picture, and Boris saw that I existed
online, he sent me a private message asking me to go for coffee sometime.
I ignored the message, which is just as well, because the next time in class, he ignored
me and just followed Valerie's normal smirk and pshh, routine.
I don't like to start drama, but I don't like being bullied and trashed either.
I screen captured and saved a lot of both Valerie's and Borses comments where they trashed
at least a dozen people in our class, and then made a dummy Facebook account.
I fired off every screen capture to the owner of the studio.
Not just the manager of that particular branch, but the owner of the whole company in addition
to the branch manager.
I let them know that these two creatins were trashing many people in the morning class
and creating a hostile, unwelcome environment.
I was also nice enough to send the appropriate screen captures where Boris and Valerie
named specific people in their class to those actual people, if their accounts weren't
set to where only friends could message them or post on their feeds.
In less than a week, Boris and Valerie were gone.
Both had their memberships revoked and were banned from every one of the brand studios.
Several of the people that Valerie insulted were sufficiently offended that they sent emails to Valerie's employer.
Valerie, as previously mentioned, made no secret of where she worked. about what a hateful body-shaming person she was, and how such a
person should not be any kind of brand ambassador. From what the other girls in the studio tell
me, Valerie got fired from her job. Don't worry, Valerie, you still have your modeling
career of taking selfies in your panties next to your toilet in your apartment. I had the
pleasure of seeing some of the less-patient, ripped buff dudes in class who didn't
find an amusing that Boris was telling Valerie on Facebook that he could kick anyone's butt
in class, openly offered to let him test his theory.
Anytime, anywhere.
Unfortunately, Boris was too occupied up front getting his membership cancelled
and being refunded and being told to never come back, please, to make such arrangements.
See ya, butthole!
Boris had a wannabe unlicensed personal training business that he talked about on Facebook,
and several of the men in class who had legit training certificate shut him down with the
quickness. There's always Starbucks.
Maybe I'll go for coffee some time and buy it from you, Boracista?
As for me, I still show up early, but I usually find my comfort zone in Routou now, or even
further back.
There's always new students, and I like for them to sit right up front so they can feel
welcome.
That's what it's meant to be in a fitness community. Everyone's welcome. This isn't some kind of high school cafeteria. You can't
sit with us, BS. I honestly hope Boris and Valerie grew up. I low-key hope they marry
because they deserve each other. Though, I also hope they don't breed because that much
narcissism from two parents would result
in a kid with lots of issues.
Koi-Gon down in the comments sums up all of my thoughts quite nicely.
I don't remember who said it or I'd provide a link, but somebody said, mocking overweight
people at the gym is like mocking alcoholics and alcohols anonymous.
What kind of garbage human do you have to be
to make fun of people for trying to improve themselves?
Ha, look at that loser trying to get healthy
and get in shape.
What a poser.
Our next reddit poses from gamers Eat Bacon.
Here's some backstory.
I have a four year old Cocker Spaniel named Charlie
and he likes to poop. I let him out in my front garden every morning for his toilet routine, same in the evening.
We don't have a boundary fence on where my garden and my neighbor start besides a row
of bushes.
Saying this, Charlie hasn't ever crossed or pooped past these bushes.
Now every week, I collect up said poop before it gets into a disturbing amount.
I've been doing this for the past 4 years to keep my friend garden looking good and not smelly. One day, I came home
from work to find that my neighbors weren't happy that there was dog poop in my front garden.
I instantly went to collect up what was there. There wasn't much, and it was nowhere near the
boundary of where our gardens meet. Fast forward a week. My neighbor, again,
complained about the dog poop being in my garden. However, this time, threatened to hurt my dog if
he continued to poop in my garden. This time, I wasn't so nice about it and stated that it's my
garden and my dog can do as he pleases. Now, I know dog poop can be annoying, but when it's not in your garden and there's no smell
due to decent airflow and an open front garden, is it really justified to threaten a man's
dog over some poop? Anyway, after months of this, with petty things and shade being thrown at me
every day about having a dog.
I decided to declare war on my neighbors.
Now I know these people pretty well.
They just moved in, and we let them use our wifi for a couple of months until they got
there sorted.
I picked up a few things about them, and one of them was how OCD they were.
They cut their bat garden every week, and painted the entire bottom layer of the house to match
their fence.
This was all the fuel I needed to exact my revenge.
My first step was to start off small.
I knew they liked things to match, so I painted my fence gate bright pink instead of matching
it with my fence.
This was my first small victory. They
hated it so much they begged me to correct the color. So I did. I figured if peace was
an option it was worthwhile. Then began the hate again. I had to come up with something
so evil and yet genius that it couldn't be traced back to me.
This is when I planted over 5,000 dandelion seeds in their front and back garden.
I figured I was in this for the long game.
I did this under the cover of night and made sure to plant them in places not easily
mowed.
Fast forward three months and their garden was covered in weeds.
They grew through all the slapping and were patched all over the garden.
It took them over 3 days to clear the weeds and around 100 pounds of weed killer.
OP, this is a good story, but I feel like this is more R-Slash Petty Revenge than R-Slash
Pro Revenge.
But I do give you props for sticking up for your dog.
That was R-Slash Pro Revenge, and if you're new to my channel definitely hit that subscribe
button because I put out new Reddit videos every single day.