Zero sympathy for your other grouches. Cars skidding off the road into oncoming traffic? slamming into highway barriers?

Nu nu. 

But cold food Shabbos night?!

HUG!!!!

youknowwho wrote on 23 Feb 2025 14:27:

Chevra, we need an insurrection. 
A “hug”? On The Grouchery?? From the instigator himself??????

tzitzis dude wrote on 23 Feb 2025 15:28:

Off to the Happery with you (know who), for at least 5 minutes!!!

You can come out when you are ready to apologize.

I just tried writing this long post to give my worthless 2 cents (Trump banned those) 2 nickles responce to Mr. Time2Win on his forum and then I hit the wrong button and lost the whole thing........ Roooooooaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr............Gerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr
And don't you dear give me a hug You Know Who!

azivashacheit101 wrote on 23 Feb 2025 16:25:

This is all the more grumpy and grouchy because I'm an ancient anomaly from the Late 1700s and type with only 2 fingers making any long rant of stupidity takes longer than the ride from York Town to Boston on horseback or to reload a musket to put things in perspective.
"Tis' shant' efficiant" Says Ben Franklin

tzitzis dude wrote on 23 Feb 2025 15:28:

A hug?! 

Your grouching bout a hug?!

And your proposing we band together with other ppl for an insurrection!!!


Nothing makes me grouchier than enthusiastic ppl screaming about some stupid cause!!

tzitzis dude wrote on 23 Feb 2025 15:28:

I don't get you, don't you know what a hug from YKW means?!?!?!?! Statistics have shown that there ain't no such thing as a hug from YKW on the happery!!!
Also, on GYE we are very makpid to try to listen and really understand and internalize another's pain, which has basically been failed here with regards to the instigator himself, when he wants to hug someone, it can only be coming from terrible terrible ppppppppppppaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!! so yes it definitely is a grouch!!!

The only thing better than a hug from YKW is a kiss from a dementor

rebakiva wrote on 23 Feb 2025 19:45:

Validation and empathy do not belong on Mr Tzititz’s thread. When did this become a thing???

rebakiva wrote on 23 Feb 2025 19:45:

Okay. Maybe. Maybe YKW was actually offering a Grouch-inducing hug. (Or whatever it may cause.) 
Even is this were the case, I refuse to take it back, or even to apologize. The amount of Grouching we’ve caused? Ah! 

simchastorah wrote on 23 Feb 2025 20:32:

Did someone say dementor? You will never find a dementor on anything but The Happery. (WHAT THE HELL IS A HAPPERY?)
We thrive on your happiness. 
Leaving you with nothing.
Nothing.
But depression and despair. And coldness. And Misery.
Ahhh

youknowwho wrote on 19 Feb 2025 01:53:

Very big grouch, I askinged HHM to making here a grouch if not I gonna falling and he don't caring...

Markz wrote on 23 Feb 2025 22:59:

Markz hummed happily as he drove towards his home. He’d just written a cute post on The Grouchery. It was funny indeed, and who but him would notice that sneaky little line about it being “Mr Tzitzis Dude’s thread”? He silently chuckled to himself. 

What could possibly go wrong?

He pulled in to his driveway, the mini van spitting up some loose gravel as he drove up. Malky was serving fried chicken fingers, mashed potatoes and grilled veggies, one of his favorites. He gave a blissful sigh.

Life was good. 

It was then that he noticed a raccoon sitting right near his garage door. 

Strange, thought Markz. I don’t recall ever seeing a raccoon here…

The raccoon stood stock still, staring intently at Markz with a very intense gaze. 

Silly me, thought Markz. Raccoons don’t stare.

This must've been what Vernon Dursley had felt like when he had chanced upon Professor McGonagall, he thought wryly. 

He honked. That ought to frighten that little sucker away!

The raccoon stood still. 

Markz suddenly felt his hands get clammy on the steering wheel. The fang shaped scar on his neck twanged uncomfortably. He was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding... 

He honked again and rolled down the window, hurling an old, crumpled receipt at the raccoon.

It just stood there and glared. In the dim evening light, he could make out what seemed to be two angry, red eyes…

No, he muttered hoarsely. 

He fumbled with the car door and opened it slowly, moving in small increments to see if the raccoon would make a move. 

The raccoon didn’t budge. 

With the car door completely open, he made a beeline for the front door. He quickly punched in the combination and closed the door behind him, breathing a sigh of relief. 

“Malky, I’m home!” He called. 

"Hi honey", she said. "Supper is almost ready."

"Malky, I need you here urgently."

"What's going on, Hun?"

She appeared at the doorway, her shpitzel slightly askew. 

"Quick! I need you to look outside, do you see that raccoon standing by the garage?"

Malky peered through the peephole. 

"Nope, nothing there," she said. 

"Let me check again..." Markz took a turn at the peephole, and a chill ran down his spine...

"Don't you see it? Malky, please tell me you see it?"

"Totally not!"

"It's standing at the garage door, staring right at the front door!"

Malky sighed sympathetically. 

"Look dear, you're probably just all tired out from a long day at work."

"Yeah, that must be it".

They walked towards the kitchen. 

The scar on his neck began to burn. 

"Malky, I'll be right down, I'm going upstairs for a sec", he called.

He walked upstairs, fumbling for the light switch in the darkness. He finally found it and flicked it, but, strangely, it did not work. 

Hmmm, must've burned out the bulb. 

He made his way through the dark room and felt his way to the window. The room was facing the wooded area behind their house, and so he was not really expecting to see much else but darkness from the window. He peeled apart the blinds slightly and stared, and it was then that his heart froze into ice.


Hundreds of pairs of red eyes stared up at him from the woods. 

"Noooooooo!" he cried. 

"Malky!!!"

He stumbled his way back towards the stairs, but it was too dark...there was a thick blanket of darkness that seemed to swallow up the steps leading down. Suddenly, there were no steps, no kitchen, no Malky...everything was dark and silent and all he could here was a strange rustling...

An awful rustling of thousands of red-eyed little feet. 

The raccoons. 

The were coming towards the house. 

Markz fumbled wildly with his phone, desperately trying to log back onto GYE to quickly edit his post...

Thousands of little feet, little red eyed raccoons slowly pitter-pattering, closer and closer...

"YOU HAVE NO PERMISSION TO EDIT THIS POST, blared the screen. "Please contact help@GYE.com for further assistance"  

No, no, nooooooooooooooooo!!!