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So how do the ladies get to the top floor?

Think back to all silly, unrealistic, tropish things you've encountered in AB/DL stories over the years and add them to the list. I'm going to start with just a couple. 1. Any injury, no matter how insignificant or unrelated, from papercuts to stubbed toes will cause incontinence. 2. It is possible to decide to remodel a room as an adult sized nursery before breakfast, and have the room repainted, remodeled, and furnished with adult sized crib, changing table, playpen, highchair, and other baby needs before the MC returns from work or school.

Hello! For those that don't know me, I'm Sasha (31F) and I have severe Tourette Syndrome. Although it's a disability, and can very much be a struggle to live with, I love using it to make people laugh. I have what's called Coprolalia, which is the obscene and socially inappropriate verbal tics 5-10% with TS have, as well as Copropraxia, obscene hand gestures. Just to give you a quick run down to make this thread make sense. I'm not REALLY an asshole, this doesn't mean I don't have a filter. These aren't my thoughts coming out of my mouth, all it takes is hearing or reading something once, and it's in your subconscious, whether you want it to be or not. When you have Coprolalia, your brain scans your surroundings, digs through your subconscious, and then sends an electrical signal to the part of the subconscious which holds the worst possible thing to say for that setting, and that's what makes you involuntarily yell. (A very simplified version) So take the phrase, "I have a bomb!" The chance of me yelling that in an open field, by myself where no one will hear, is practically zero. Now the chance of me yelling that while going through airport security is 100% I have never managed to get through an airport without yelling "I have a bomb!" and "I have drugs up my ass" Because your brain is constantly scanning the area, seeing all the "no explosives, no drug" signs, subconsciously aware of 9/11 etc. etc. It's a bit scary at the time, but I'm able to laugh about it after. This is something I often share for laughs IRL, but since I spend way too much time on here,(occasionally I post in the fiction section) I thought I'd share a few stories with you all. A few years ago I got stuck in a DUI checkpoint. The first things out of my mouth should have been "I have TS." I'm so used to ticcing and yelling bizarre things, it's just my normal, that I often forget it's not normal for other people. So anyway, the officer motioned for me to roll down my window, and I did. Then they asked for my license, etc. Everything was going fine until the moment they asked if I had any illegal substances on me or in my vehicle. There are cops all over the place in this intersection, and I end up yelling, "I HAVE DRUGS UP MY ASS!" I could see cops everywhere just stop and turn. I'm just like oh crap, and open my mouth to explain no, I don't have drugs, and what comes out is, "IT'S A GUN!" Officers are starting to walk over. I'm sweating bullets, I'm shaking my head, and trying to explain but everytime I open my mouth something worse comes out. I end up yelling "THERE'S A DEAD HOOKER IN MY TRUNK". They're all just staring at me. I finally manage to hand over a DRS note I keep in my car specifically for this. The officer starts laughing and sends me on my way, I'm very eager to get out of there, and I start driving off before I roll up my window, and as I drive past the line of officers I start making oinking noises 0.0 Last year My grandma died, my very religious white grandmother who was a bit on the racist side. We have her service outside at the grave site. Her ashes are upfront in an urn. I was really nervous and didn't want to go because I knew my tics were going to be disruptive, but my family kept saying, "we all know you and understand, don't worry about it, come anyway, it's just going to be family." so I do. ... It was not "just family" All of my grandma's church friends and out of state relatives were there. None of which knew I had TS. ..oh boy, The things that were coming out of my mouth should never be yelled at a religious woman's funeral...or anyone's funeral for that matter. I kept yelling, "GRANDMA, GET BACK IN THE JAR!" "LET'S DO LINES OF GRANDMA" "MY GRANDMA CHOKED TO DEATH ON A BIG BLACK DICK" ... and... oyy ... "I COULD BE AT HOME MASTURBATING RIGHT NOW..." My grandma's church friends are absolutely horrified, and my family is trying so hard (unsuccessfully) not to laugh. Apparently I put the "fun" in "funeral" Ok so this last one is pretty personal, but what the hell. This is the story of my very first pap. 0.0 So I have Kaiser as my health insurance, and for those unfamiliar with it, all the drs. and everyone share information, it's all connected. So I everytime I see a new dr. I don't have to explain my previous health conditions, it's all right there in my file. The down side of everyone seeing your information, is no matter what kind of dr. you go to, you can't escape any kind of preventative care. They will just keep nagging you and nagging you until you cave. So when I went in to see my therapist, I came out with a ob/gyn appointment. So for whatever reason I got sent to an out of network ob/gyn, which meant they did not previously know about my condition. I did not realize this at the time. I go in, everything's going fine, ...until the breast exam... She's doing her thing, and suddenly my hands shoot out, latch on to hers, push them down even harder and in the worst possible Irish accent you've ever heard, yell "FEEL ME TITTIES" I'm mortified. She's staring at me in shock. I apologize and the test moves on. Feet in Stirrups wishing I was anywhere else in the world. Cue worst possible verbal tics. Sexual moaning. LOUD sexual moaning, followed by "FUCK ME, DADDY". She's just glaring at me this whole time and I can't figure out why. She finishes, I sit up and then the little light in my head finally clicks. "You know I have Tourette, right?" I asked. She stares at me blankly for what feels like a full minute and says, "I do now." Please enjoy my unfortunate moments, and the next time you lie awake at night cringing from your past, you can rest assured you didn't tell a cop you had drugs up your ass

My teddy bear and I had a bit of a #metoo moment. We’re not sure whose fault it was. Some harsh words exchanged. He told me to watch where I’m sitting. I told him to watch where he’s putting his paws. He’s in the washing machine right now. I told him to take the time to think about what he’s done. He was fine with it. I think he wanted the time alone to process, cool down, collect his thoughts. We’ll be okay eventually. Couples have fights, ya know. They get through them. You don’t share a blankie as long as we have without working through some issues. ————- So apparently this may not blow over. I got home and he was giving me the silent treatment, so I got a bit upset and asked what he was still so mad about. I thought this was over. He said I violated his consent, and I said, are we still on this? It happened, we each share some blame, it was an accident. I said sorry; he said sorry, so what is he all mad about again. No, he said. It’s not that. It’s that I’ve been walking around naked with him in the room since we first got together. And I said, so? That’s never bothered you before. And besides, couples are naked in front of each other. What, I’m supposed to ask him to leave the room every time I get out of the shower. And, he’s a teddy bear. He’s never worn clothes in his life. What are we even talking about? And he said he didn’t know that I should have asked for his consent. Where did you learn that, I asked, because it was the first time I’d ever heard of asking your bear for permission to get dressed in your own damn bedroom. I mean, maybe I’m not up to speed on what’s considered okay, but I’m willing to learn. I want to learn, so I asked him again, where did he learn that.. And he tossed a magazine on the table about some erstwhile celebrity. Then he got even more upset while I read a few sentences and said it was my responsibility to be aware of these things and to take care of him just like he takes care of me. I am, he said, just a bear after all. So I didn’t take that accusation very well. I keep a roof over his head, I rearrange his stuffing when it starts to get lumpy. I take very, very good care of my bear. I give plenty in this relationship. So I snapped at him and said, yeah, and it’s my house and you are just a bear. Which I admit was an asshole thing to say, but my day had been long and this was not what I wanted to come home to. Anyway, he grabbed our blankie and slammed the door to the guest room behind him. I don’t know. This doesn’t feel like it’s gonna blow over. I don’t know. This bed feels so empty with just me in it. ————— Well, it was kinda frosty at home for about a week. A lot of silent dinners. He made fish four nights. He knows I don’t like fish. Today, though, when I got home he said he wanted to try couple’s counseling, and I instantly agreed. Ya know, I want this relationship to work. I need this relationship to work. I can’t go back to Bear Bumble. It’s terrible. I don’t wanna be single again. I want my bear, period. We said forever, and I meant it. If we had some repair work to do on our relationship, give me a hammer. He wanted to pick the therapist, which I was fine with, and then he said a friend referred him to a great therapist, a Dr. Bananas, and I wanted to object because, honestly, I didn’t think I could get a fair shake from a therapist that was also a stuffy. I know therapy isn’t supposed to be adversarial, right. There are no sides. Or that’s what they say, but I went in there thinking this Dr. Bananas was just going to blame it all on me, all on the the man, and tell my bear to move on with his life. When we go there, though, it turned out Dr. Bananas was a bonobo stuffy, and I don’t know what you guys know about bonobos, but definitely not the species you wanna have a conversation about consent with. Sex sex sex sex! That’s all they do. You’re having a fight? Skip to the makeup sex. You’re not having a fight? Well, then why aren’t ya having sex? Some seriously depraved apes. And my bear had no idea about bonobos because he is just a bear, but the look on his face when that “therapist” gave his “advice,” I mean, it was like instant clarity. This bonobo had zero interest in understanding us. For one thing, couldn’t even fathom why my bear was upset with me. The notion of consent did not compute for this bonobo, and not because he didn’t understand permission but because he couldn’t understand why anyone would say no to nudity. Bonobos just don’t do that. For another, he and I don’t have that kind of relationship. We’re close, but we ain’t that kinda close, if you know what I mean. Bonobos are incestuous, for fuck’s sake! We were outta there in under ten minutes. Neither of us said a word in the car. I was thinking, this is it. He’s soured on the whole thing; gonna give up on couples therapy, and by this time next week, I’ll come home to find a note on the table and the box of spare stuffing gone. But we got home, and he got a drink of water, and he’s standing over the sink, and he starts to laugh hysterically at the absurdity of that bonobo. I mean, he couldn’t control himself, so that got me going, and next thing I know we’re sitting on the kitchen floor next to each other holding hands. I looked at him, he looked at me, and I just knew. I picked him up and put him on my lap, wrapped my arms around him asked, are we gone be okay? And he turns around and smiles at me. I love his smile. Then he turns back around, lays his head against my chest, pats my leg and says, we will be. I love this bear so much. He’s the world’s best bear. We got some issues to work out. But he’s right, like he usually is. We’ll be okay.

Hey, guys I’m interested in either starting or joining an rp, but to be honest i don’t know how committed i can be with it. I’d preferably like to do one with a sense of humor anyone interested?

Because I do not "suffer-from

I hadn't seen this posted here before but thought it was funny and wanted to share:

I potty trained mine because I got tired of changing diapers and washing them and I wanted to go back and deal with only mine again. I also didn't want to be changing more diapers and washing more so I was hoping he would be out of them by the time my daughter arrived. Plus my son didn't like being wet or messy so I started teaching him to use the potty. Plus I don't want to set him up to get teased about it in school and face all the harassment when he had the luxury to be out of them while incontinent children aren't so lucky and can't quit wearing them.

While this joke may bear some resemblance to a certain board member's screen name, I just had it sent to me by someone unrelated to this community. Thought it was funny nonetheless. SD I hope you get a good laugh ;-) Three little ducks go into a Bar...... 'Say, what's your name?' the bartender asked the first duck. 'Huey,' was the reply. 'How's your day been, Huey?' ' Great. Lovely day. Had a ball. Been in and out of puddles all day. What else could a duck want?' said Huey. 'Oh. That's nice,' said the bartender. He turned to the second duck, 'Hi, and what's your name?' 'Dewey,' came the answer from duck number two. 'So how's your day been, Dewey! ?' he asked. 'Great. Lovely day. I've had a ball too. Been in and out of puddles all day myself. What else could a duck want?' The bartender turned to the third duck and said, 'So, you must be Louie?' 'No,' she said, batting her eyelashes. 'My name is Puddles..'