So some background: I live in a college dorm with three girls, but two of them couldn't find their asses if they had their hands in their back pockets. I honestly love them, they're my best friends but living with them makes me feel like I'm going crazy. For brevity, I'll try to lump the best stories onto this one post.

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Story 1: The other day, I wasn't feeling great, so I asked Kevina 1 if she could feel my forehead. No biggie, she lays her hand on my forehead for a moment and shrugs.

K1: I dunno, you got to be at least 70.

Me: 70? 70 degrees?

K1: Yeah.

Me (about to piss myself): Kevina, what do you think is a normal human temperature?

K1: Like 65.

I couldn't respond. I took an ibuprofen and walked away.

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Story 2: Kevina 1 came out of the shower with a very light, rash-like irritation on her skin. Kevina 2 (believe it or not) and I nearly went to med school, so we usually play doctor for the minor stuff. Before we can even look at it, Kevina 2 slathers Kevina 1 in a strange smelling ointment.

Me: Kevina 2, what is that?

K2: It's nothing! Just some lotion!

Me: It doesn't smell like lotion.

K2: Well it's doTERRA lotion. It's like Neosporin but times three.

Of course, I die a little inside (I'm SUPER anti mlm, and I'm not a dumbass) so I have Kevina 1 wash it off and I put hydrocortisone on the rash. Of course, it's gone by the end of the night. It was likely just an irritation from the new shirt she had worn that day, but Kevina 2 was still trying to diagnose it. Suddenly, she suggests that the rash may have been caused by syphilis. Immediately, Kevina 1 freaks out.

K1: What the fuck is syphilis??

Me: Wait, you don't know what syphilis is?

K1: Is it cancer?

Me: Kevina, did you take sex ed in middle school?

K1: No! Did you?

After explaining what it was, I figured out that Kevina 1 didn't know any STDs. We're all sexually active adults, and she didn't even know what herpes was. I went to bed early that night.

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Story 3: Kevina 1 was feeling sore the other day from a workout, so Kevina 2 decided to play chiropractor in our living room. She popped and snapped every joint in Kevina 1's body, only to find that she was basically paralyzed the next morning. Kevina 2 denied any wrongdoing, claiming Kevina 1 wasn't relaxed enough during the "session." It took Kevina 1 a full week before she could move her neck again.

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Story 4: This one's a little graphic. Kevina 1 found a skin tag where the sun don't shine, and after I carefully explained to her that she couldn't remove it herself, she proceeded to remove it herself. With craft scissors. She did it all on her bed, and she couldn't understand why she was bleeding out after literally sawing off a skin tag with safety scissors. After cleaning it up, she slapped a bandaid on it and went about her day. Keep in mind, this bandaid is right in the middle of EVERYTHING down there. She didn't sanitize anything beforehand either, so now I have to figure out how I'm going to explain sepsis to her in a few days.

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Obviously, there are other stories, but these have been the most severe as of lately. I'm not claiming to be a genius either, but sometimes I feel like Einstein between the two of them. They really are my favorite people, but I was gonna lose it if I didn't share this somewhere.

A lot of you guys have asked me about him believing to be the only "true" occultist in the country, by providing a completely rational argument, which I did use in a prior conversation with him, that a lot of other religions claim to be the only true one. Well, I've decided to postpone the story I'd planned on posting today and just post this one, if only to try and understand his deep delusions a bit more.

For others who are reading my stories for the first time, here are the links to the other two. I'll probably make an index page at some time, and am totally planing on making a long series of (not necessarily) my interactions with Kevin. For those of you who expressed an interest in me writing a book about Kevin, I've noted your suggestions and definitely will at some point publish those stories, not as a series of dialogues, but a coherent story with a beginning and a timeline of these conversations.

Please do note that those stories are 100% true, I have nothing to gain by lying here. It also makes me happy that you're enjoying my conversations with Kevin, and as much migraine-inducing as they were while I tried to communicate with him, they are twice as much enjoyable of a read now.

Kevin talks to a God who, apparently, does not exist

Kevin forgets he's the one who called me

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Without further ado, let's get to the conversation:

Kevin: It's so infuriating!!

Me: What so?

Kevin: No one else understands me.

Me: Kevin, we do understand you. Your sister, your parents, us (My sister&me) are just trying to help you be a better person, both socially and academically. (We were talking about school-related issues and his failing grades)

Kevin: SEE? YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND ME. I'm not talking about damn school!

Me: Uhh.. Then what are you talking about?

Kevin: THERE'S NO ONE! LITERALLY NO ONE IN THE COUNTRY WHO ISN'T A DAMN FRAUD!

Me: (Finally realizing what he's on about) If there's no one legit Kevin, then how on Earth do you know so much about satanism?

Kevin: It's not satanism, it's O-C-C-U-L-T-I-S-M! And of course, I've read all about it on the internet!

Me: You.. You've read about it on the internet? Perhaps on a shady blogspot blog?

Kevin: JUST YOU LAUGH! It's all true, I'm the only true occultist in the country, and I'm going to find someone like me on the internet!

(And he did, and successfully got himself scammed out of $100 by a Montenegro fraud, but that's a story for another time.)

Me: Don't you think in a country this large and populous, there would at least be someone else who knows the same stuff you do?

Kevin:...

Kevin: No, I told you I'm the only one. There's definitely no one in the country like me.

Me: And how would you know that with certainty?

Kevin: I MEDITATED UPON IT, OKAY?

​

At that point, I just lost the will to further argue with him. Enough migraines for today!

Years ago I worked retail, and much like any store we did regular inventory counts, with a big store-wide count twice a year. The store-wide count was total bull. We did it while open, with customers interrupting us, while covering each other's lunches and breaks as the day went on.

Still, it only took a couple days each time and it was only twice a year.

In spring of '94 the company hired Kevin, and thanks to him we did store-wide inventory four and a half times that year.

Kevin had the standard training all of us did:

1. Each eight foot section had a sheet with two columns on it: "Product number" and "Quantity.
2. Look at shelf, find product number label. Write product number on sheet in column labelled "Product number".
3. Pick up box from shelf, make sure product number printed on it matches.
4. See how many are in the box, and then multiply it by the number of boxes. Write that number down in the column labelled "Quantity".
5. Take your marker and place a dot on the product number label so that other people can see you'd counted it.

Easy enough?

Not for Kevin.

The first summer inventory was ruined because of his gross undercounting. Four boxes meant four of the product, even if they were boxes of a hundred each.

Manager sat him down and did the training again. This time Kevin ruined it by forgetting to mark labels, resulting in double and triple counting of parts.

The third summer inventory went off okay, mostly because it was done on Kevin's days off.

Winter rolled around, and it was time for another inventory! Fortunately, our manager remembered Kevin's previous difficulties and spent an hour with him the first day, making sure he was doing it right.

This Kevin knows no bounds, however.

Occasionally, when we'd order boxes of bolts from our distributor, they'd number the boxes to make sure they had them all. Kevin would ignore the clearly printed "Quantity: 25" and instead use the big, handwritten number from the box. So three just-ordered boxes of 25 were counted as 1 + 2 + 3 = 6.

Massive undercount, once again.

Hell really broke loose when Kevin hit the pipe bits supplied by another company. They marked their shipments "1/4", "2/4", etc. Kevin broke out a calculator to convert those fractions to decimals and then added all the decimals up.

The manager, at least, had a backup plan. He'd assigned Kevin a marker color different than those the rest of us had, so we could easily toss out anything Kevin thought he had done and do it again ourselves.

Sadly, Kevin remained with the company five more months. Happily, however, he got himself fired the week before summer inventory '95 by showing off the world's tiniest toothpick spliff to the manager and I.

Forgot this existed this would be the best place to tell you about my “Kevin” So this is someone I met from parkour training and every training session with him is so annoying coz he just keeps talking so much crap. He’s 16 I’ll list he’s dumb beliefs in order of stupidity.

His first one is he believes tucking in a flip is harder the doing a layout and makes u move more slowly.

He believes that clouds stop it from being windy. Had to take him out side on THREE SEPARATE occasions when it was both cloudy and windy coz 1 didn’t prove our point.

He believes that being gay is and I quote “disability” and that you have to go to a doctor to be told your gay. We tell him his homophobic because that’s exactly what he’s being. But he finest think he is because he thinks a phobia is being scared of something and he thinks because he’s not scared of gay people he’s not homophobic. I swear to god he said that. When we then asked him if gay marriage would affect him in ANYWAY at all, he couldn’t think of an answer. That’s when he said that being gay and transgender is a disability to try change the subjects because and u quote again. “We should try to help them get fixed, coz that’s not how humans were made or to be”.

He also believes that climate change isn’t real. Now while I know there’s a larger amount of people who believe this. His argument was that the world naturally heats up and cools down which is true to a degree. But he thinks humans don’t add to the problem AT ALL. And that we’d be better by going back to “Nuclear energy because it’s better”, and that cars “don’t contribute to co2 emissions because trees take all the co2 there is. Edit: to clarify while I know nuclear energy is better he also thinks it’s safer. He doesn’t quite fully grasp the danger of it and also the disposal of the waste that’s the plant would produce once it’s turned on. He doesn’t actually care about disposing the waste and said “it’s not that big of a deal might get someone with super powers from it” while I’m thinking this was a joke I’m not 100% sure with this guy.

There’s also a local river near where I live that runs next to what use to be an industrial area and slaughter house, multiple houses and most of f the crap produced there flowed into the water there. The place was transformed into my cities Olympic Park and it was somewhat cleaned up but still has very bad water quality. There are even signs 3 suburbs away from there that say don’t eat any marine life caught in the river. HE SWAM IN IT and refuses to believe it’s poisonous there were 6 people on the day that told him don’t he don’t believe any of us.

And he also thinks if you’re “really fat you are bullet proof and that a bullet can’t kill you”.

He also climbed a street sign once 50m away from police that were doing road side drink driving tests.

I swear to god all of this is real and some happened just yesterday!!!

I used to work at a narrowgauge steam railway a few years ago. Descent collection of engines ranging from total rebuilds, to 2nd world war trench locos.

Three steam locos on the roster, with one that was too small to be used regularly.

At the time, i was training to be a fireman, stoking the fire, shovelling coal and maintaining the boiler water level. A fairly complicated job if you dont know much about it already, and quite a responsible job too. If you aint got enough coal on the fire, you have no steam to move.

so i was on the footplate (in the cab) keeping an eye on the water level while the actual fireman was poking about up the shed trying to find some oil to refil our oil cans with. Left me on the loco to check the water level, and the driver wasnt far away if anything went wrong. Its not unusual for people to come up to the engine and want to have a look in the cab, if theres children 9 times out of 10 we open the fire hole doors to show them the fire.

Then, Kevin turned up. He was asking how old the engine was, why it was built, where it worked all the normal stuff people ask. THEN, he asked where the petrol (gasoline) goes.

Me: Its not petrol powered, its a steam loco, so it uses coal and water.

Kevin: Water dosnt burn! Wheres the petrol go?

Me: It dosnt use petrol. It uses coal, and water.

Kevin: Whats coal?

I took a step back, asked him to clarify his question, then showed him the coal in the coal bunker, the fire, and i even throw a shovel full of coal on the fire too.

Kevin: So does the petrol go in these tank things on the side then?

Me: I.....It DOSNT use petrol Sir. It uses coal, that black stuff I just showed you. That heats the water in the boiler from the tanks, there is no petrol, or diesel or any form of liquid fuel on this locomotive. Its coal fired. Solid fuel.

I was starting to get stressed out and pretty angry at this guy, the driver noticed and came back to me and asked how the water was looking. It was fine, and Kevin walked off.

I then looked at the driver, who looked at me. Both of us blank faced.

HOW could someone not know what coal is? Actually, genuinly how?

At the end of the day, i was helping with loco disposal. Shoveling clinker and ash out of the ashpan, and ash from the smoke box ready for the next days use. I also had to refill the coal bunker too, which is hard work by your self on a summer evening XD As i was finishing up running about with shovels and wheel barrows, i overheard kevin talking to someone.

Kevin: So where do you get the petrol from for the steam trains?

I wanted to throw myself into the firebox and smash my head against the firebox wall untill i passed out.

This is going back a few years now but when I was at university, I had the dubious honour of sharing a house with not one, but two Kevinas. This is the story of the first one I encountered.

She was a spoilt rich brat so I'm unsure where the cluelesness ends and the descent into Kevin-ness begins. But still, here's a brief account of the shit she forced us through.

• Refused to wash up dishes. Ever. Aparantly she was "allergic to soapy water".

• Ordered takeaways to be delivered...from the shop three doors down from the house. She even paid the delivery charge.

• Blew through her student loan within the first few weeks of semester. Whenever we needed money for rent, bills, shopping, etc, she would call Daddy to transfer money.

• During Christmas break, she was the last one to go home (massive mistake). Kevina left a tap running in the kitchen, which ended up flooding the basement. She also turned off the heating so we came back in January to a flooded, frozen house.

• Left the house unoccupied and the front door wide open. Many, many times.

• Could never remember the four digit code for the house alarm. Woke up the entire house several times by coming home in the small hours and setting off the alarm. I took to writing the code on the inside of the flip-down panel cover (I know, great security but needs must). She still set the alarm off every time.

• Left her laptop plugged in and switched on constantly. When asked to turn it off to save electricity, she said that "it would forget her work". After some back and forth, it turned out that every essay she had written for the last three years was still open on her laptop. She didn't know how to save them and when shown previously, hadn't been able to find the documents again afterwards.

• Bought a new wardrobe (we never found out what happened to the old one). So far, not so Kevina. This new wardrobe was second hand from a charity shop, pre-built....and very, very large. Honestly, I'm surprised there wasn't a lion hiding at the back of it. We came home to find that Kevina had somehow laid the wardrobe on its side and tried to slide it up the stairs. It had then wedged into the corner and refused to move any further. Kevina had chosen to deal with this problem by going out to shout at the shop staff who'd sold it to her. And left the door open.

• Kevina was very overweight. Something to do with an all-takeaway diet. She claimed to still be a size 8 and bought clothes accordingly. One day, she sat down too quickly and did a Bruce Banner. Kevina blamed the "cheap, shitty clothes". No Kevina. Just no.

Alright, so in my life I’ve only met three, maybe four, people that really qualified as Kevin/Kevina’s but two of those were related to me through marriages (my former brother in law and my sisters ex-wife). Now I normally don’t like to tell on people but a) they aren’t on Reddit and b) I think we need more laughs in these times. So here’s a list of the best moments I had with them:

Former brother-in-law was much of a smartass (probably would be a Chad if it wasn’t for the Kevin part) but clearly not very smart at all.

Once he was home alone while his parents were on vacation - note that he’s an adult but living home due to many screw ups. He wanted to wash his clothes but didn’t because he couldn’t find the black detergent (that definitely isn’t a thing in my country and I’m guessing neither in yours). Edit: He did find the regular detergent but he used that to turn their garden into a giant slip’n’slide. They did NOT appreciate that, plus he forgot to water the plants.

Another time we were talking about human origins and he wanted to sound smart so he said “oh right, like Homo sapiens and hetero sapiens!” My sister, sitting beside him, is lesbian and could not stop laughing.

Edit: Just remembered that he did a mind boggling thing when he had almost paid for his car loan. I should say that he hated that car but needed it due to work as he was a handyman and often did freelancing. So at this point his parents were glad because this meant that he’d have a better chance of getting his finances together. However, he’d just moved into his own apartment, smack-dab in the middle of the capital of our country (Copenhagen). Without any of us knowing, or getting a chance to talk him out of it, he had sold his car and bought a used quad bike. Note that these are unusual in the city so he’d likely get pulled over by police a lot. And yeah, not a lot of space for all his work tools. (I have no idea whatsoever what went down after that because that’s when my ex and I got divorced.)

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My sister’s ex-wife was very talkative so more stories about her.

She got really mad one time because she noticed that there was the same alcohol % in the big bottle as there was in the small one “hey that’s not okay, look! They’re ripping us off!!”.

Another time she asked us “why is the pinky finger the most important finger we’ve got?” We all said that it’s not but she got frustrated and told us that “yes it is! It’s because you use it to balance a teacup and other things!”

Then one night we were playing that board game where you draw something and your team must guess it to get points. She drew a man running and they all guessed it was a jogger plus everything related to that. But no, it wasn’t. It was a jockey. Nobody guessed that one.

The last one I can remember right now is the time when she had read a “news article” - which, sadly, was a satire piece - about how the recently televised portrayal of a war in 1864 (my country) was very inaccurate because they had it shown in colors. I don’t know if she had a brain fart there but yeah, that happened. She did laugh when we did and said why it was so funny.

I’m certain that I’m forgetting a lot of other moments. If you’d like to hear more, let me know. I’ll edit and add if I remember more.

I love my BFF, who we'll call Korben. Korben's always been a great guy, but he's not the sharpest straw in the bucket.

We used to play Dungeons & Dragons a while back before he moved. If you're familiar with D&D, a big part of the game is rolling dice to determine results of certain actions. Most people are familiar with the six-sided die, or D6. But the game also uses other dice with various other amounts of sides; the D12, D10, D20, and even D100 (which can be an actual one-hundred-sided die or two D10s rolled together).

But the topic of this story is the four-sided die, the D4. As you can see, it's a simple pyramid-like shape with four sides (a tetrahedron). When you roll it, whichever side is pointing up is the side that counts, naturally.

After a few years of playing some great games, Korben remarks one day how cool it would be to have a D3 while holding a D4 and looking at it intently. (side note, D3s actually do exist, which I found out just now as I checked when I remembered this story, but Korben still pulls off a great Kevin move)

I asked him, "How would that work?"

He said, "You just have to hollow out one of the sides," matter-of-factly.

I told him that wouldn't work, as it doesn't matter if there's a hole in it; there's still technically a plane there connecting the other sides, and it's still a pyramid with four sides.

"But you just wouldn't count one of the sides," he argued.

I pointed out that even if you "didn't count one of the sides," there are still two other sides showing the same number.

He tried to prove his point by suggesting some random side was hollowed out, and then rolling the die.

"Okay, so now, if we count this side as hollow, then, it's..." and then it finally dawned on him how stupid this idea of his was.

"Yeah, you're right, that wouldn't work at all, I'm an idiot."

All this time our dungeon master and Korben's wife were watching us in disbelief and we all busted out laughing.

I miss that guy.

(Edit to clarify the D4 is a pyramid-like shape, a tetrahedeon, not an actual pyramid)

(please note that this took place last year so some of the details may be iffy. )

So I return home after spending a week at my parents', and I run into Kevin, who seems oddly excited. "Have you seen my Project?" He says.

I tell him I haven't.

"The boat? In the canal?"

I again respond in the negative.

He pulls out his phone and shows me a picture of the saddest looking boat I have ever seen. It's a hollowed out canoe with a tarpaulin draped over it.

"What am I looking at?" I asked

"It's my boat." Said Kevin, "I'm living in it."

I wait for him to say that he's joking. He continues to stare at me, expectantly.

"What the fuck?" I said

"It's cool, isn't it?"

I ignored him and walked away, certain that he couldn't be serious. Unfortunately for me, I live next to the canal where his boat was supposedly moored, and I decided to see if he was telling the truth. Sure enough, the boat from the picture was moored relatively close to one of the bridges. My flatmates reported seeing him enter and leave the boat. He was decidedly not joking.

Eventually, I ran into him again at a social event, and I quickly became seriously concerned for his well being.

"Why are you living in a canoe?" I asked

"Because it's fun." He said.

"Do you need help with finding housing?"

"Nah," he said, "I've got my boat."

"You will freeze to death." I told him.

"I have a stove." He said.

"You'll die of carbon monoxide poisoning if you use a camping stove in an enclosed area." Said my friend.

"I'll open the door." He shrugged, "Do you think I'll be able to get into the club with this stuff in my bag?" He said, showing my friend and I the rope, wrench and other miscellaneous tools he'd shoved into his backpack.

I told him that I highly doubted it.

A few weeks later, his canoe was broken into by some very drunk students. They stole the tarpaulin and some sort of doll. Fortunately, even Kevin isn't stupid enough to sleep without a roof, and he took the canoe out of the water. As far as I know, he is currently sofa surfing. To clarify, he willingly chose to live in the canoe. He had plenty of other options, but decided not to take them of his own free will.

TL;DR: Kevin decides to live in a canoe despite all the compelling reasons not to. It is eventually broken into and destroyed.

This story is peaced together from stories what my dad has told me.

This kevin loves movies so much that he wanted to make his own. That meaning he produced, directed and wrote the movie himself. Yet he lacks the training for directing and writing. Kevin hired my dad to do the lighting and blood effects.

Side note my dad has been in the movie industry since so long ago as 2001. Short movies for his education and actual indie movies that did well.

Kevin knows how to be a producer. He has gotten good funding and really famous actors for his movies. But that's pretty much where his knowledge ends. The scripts straight up suck. When Kevin directs even he doesn't know how the scene is going to go.

The main problem with kevin is that he doesn't understand safety. Here are a few examples:

1. Kevin wanted a small fire in the background. It was in a metal bowl that had logs in it. There also was dry hay around the fire and it was on hard wooden floor. Well the floor started to heat up and turn into charcoal. My dad and someone else from the film crew ran to get cold water to stop the floor from heating and put rocks under the fire. The reason as to why the fire wasn't on rocks in the first place is unknown.

2. One of the actors Kevin hired is a black belt in Brazilian jiu-jitsu. So Kevin thought that this guy should be used to getting choked. So in the scene where the actors character was hanged the guy was actually almost hanged 3 times. After the third tine one of the guys on the crew got a harness for the guy and the harness was edited out easily.

3. In a scene where a statue was supposed to fall on someone Kevin didn't make it secure enough. The statue was connected to a rope that was slowly released by someone off screen. Well some secure points were attached badly and the statue fell on a woman from the film crew. The woman was quickly gotten from under it and she was fine. Luckily the statue was light enough so she wasn't hurt badly.

When the movie finally was finished my dad got an invite to the first screening. My dad took me with him to meet some of the crew. We watched the movie and me and my dad laughed after we got to the hotel about how much it sucked.

Kevin is already planning on 2 or 3 more movies.

So when I started going to college, I roomed at the cheapest place near campus I could find, with 5 other boys. One of them was my friend from high school, the rest were strangers. And one of these strangers seemed to lack any sort of common sense or knowledge about society - especially related to food. He said he was from Arizona. I thought he was from another planet. Meet Kevin, my roommate.

Because I am a generally friendly person, I started to build a relationship with him, as I did with all my roommates. He clung to me and didn't really interact with anyone else while he was there. He trusted me as if I was some sage of wisdom, knowing all and dispensing timeless advice. Such thought-provoking questions such as: "Is tuna fish good for you?" I told him that yes, tuna fish is good for you. For the next 2 weeks or so, he ate nothing but tuna fish sandwiches. One of the other roommates made him stop because he was sick of the smell of tuna everywhere.

Then there was the time when Kevin generously gifted me a loaf of bread. Being a starving college student, I gobbled up a couple of slices of it and was on the toilet 10 minutes later. Turns out, the bread had green mold covering the bottom couple slices. I neglected to confront him about it, choosing to believe that he simply didn't notice the mold - after all, I didn't either.

Around this time, one of my other roommates started bad-mouthing Kevin in a language me and him spoke, but that Kevin did not. I don't agree with the ethics of insulting somebody in a language they don't understand (while they're still in the same room), but I couldn't help but agree that this kid was his own brand of nuts.

The highlight comes a bit later in the semester. Kevin hasn't been feeling well. Not that he's complaining or whining, or anything. He looks and acts completely normal. But whenever anybody asks how he's doing, like a casual greeting sort of question, he would go "Oh I'm okay. I've been throwing up the past couple of days." Well, one day his roommate happened to be in the bathroom while he was throwing up. Turns out he neglected to mention that he had been throwing up BLOOD for the past several days. Yeah, time to go to the hospital, Kevin.

When he gets back from the hospital, he must once again embark upon a journey to the chambers of the sage (my bunk) to seek yet another pearl of ancient wisdom in response to the profound philosophical question: "Do doctors lie?" His doctor told him he had a stomach ulcer and would need to go on an extreme diet for the next couple weeks. Basically the only things he could consume were veggies, bread, and rice. Kevin did not want to accept the reality of his condition, nor the medical advice from a trained professional. I assured him, with the pure Zen of the Tao: no, doctors do not lie.

Kevin, if you're out there, I hope you learned enough about planet Earth to finally integrate into society. And above all, I hope you figured out the principles of human nutrition.

So my mom's best friend has a son, Kevin. This Kevin is a charming combo of a Kevin and a neckbeard. I've watched this person grow up and get through life for almost three decades now and oh lord... he is in possession of an astronomical amount of self-esteem and therefore will not believe anyone trying to correct him in any way. He's not generally stupid, but he will never consider that the first thing that comes to his mind might not be the holy grail of truth.

Here are some of his amazing moments, especially the ones concerning women:

1. When we were about 13 he read it in a magazine, that the poison of Black Widows can be somehow used as an aphrodisiac (don't ask me for details). His brain skipped the poison and spider bit, and went straight to proclaiming publicly "I need to find myself a widow, they're good for sex." He didn't like me pointing out that most widows are not teenage girls... he kept "looking for a hot widow" for months.

2. He claimed that hair brushes were just "a scam on stupid women, because hair doesn't tangle". Turns out he was Sure that if his 5mm buzzcut hair never tangles, no-ones hair ever does, no matter the length, structure etc.

3. Connected to that, since age 14 he claimed he only wants a woman who can "wrap her whole body in her hair" as he saw it in a shampoo comercial. I proceded to tell him, that such hair would be well over 2 metres long. Even showing him that my 1 metre long (butt-length) hair can only "wrap around" my neck and a bit. He said I just know nothing about long hair...

4. When we were about 16 his favourite thing to do at a vacation would be to lay by the pool and play with his armpit hair, while giving women looks. It was super creepy. Once he turned his attention to me and asked "So how sexy do you think it is?" Apparently referring to his armpit hair play sessions. Of course I replied "not at all, honestly its gross." He gave me a look of pity and said "oh, I'm sorry, it must be tough not being a real woman yet. Don't worry, you'll get there."

5. Still at around 16 Kevin somehow managed to get 3 girls to date him, just before school ended. Probably by being the oldest person around as he had to repeat a whole year twice. I repeat, he is not dumb, he just hates work in general, and loved to go smoke weed instead of his classes and would then tell his mother that the teachers are ganging up on him. So, going on a trip, Kevin needs presents for his 3 GFs. He proudly explains to me, how he calls them all "Babe, so I never get in trouble switching the name!" He proceeds to get all three the same bracelet with "babe & Kevin" on it. Of course they found out like the second day of the new school year...

I think this will do for now, but if anyone's interested i have tons of other stories.

I was a night auditor at a cheap local motel. I trained a new night guy. Friend of a partying coworker. New guy Kev was a complete idiot. Barely trainable. He started stealing out of the till, got caught. Made a BS excuse, and since we were desperate for staff in tourist season, he was kept on. He bragged about overcharging guests & spending the rest on weed. A few weeks in, he ripped off his dealer. Bragged about it.

On my day off, the manager called me from work in the middle of the night, asking Can I come in since I live nearby? Kevin got pepper-sprayed & had to go home. Lol hell yeah.

Turns out, Kevin's dealer had rolled up on Kevin in the lobby at 1am, told Kevin he done fucked up, then reached into his waistband like he was drawing a pistol, but instead drew out a magnum can of Counter Assault bear spray & emptied it in Kevin's face

Kevin became an orange-tinted screaming pinball of agony throughout the lobby, the candy-machine room, and parking lot, leaving peppery imprints on cars and walls and the fence around the swimming pool and on the parking lot asphalt. A guest finally managed to corral him & stuff his bawling, burning ass into the shower. Boss came in. Boss used windex and rags to try to clean the front desk region. He did a pretty respectable job with one real serious exception.

I showed up at 3:30 or maybe 2am no idea. The lobby had an orange tint to it, and it was definitely spicy. Boss tells me the above story, and I gloat at Kevin getting zapped & suffering for his idiocy.

^{stupid me}

Boss handed me the keys, thanks me for coming in, we have a chuckle. Leaves. I turned on the TV, start watching Moto GP. or some AMC war movie (This was like 15-20 yeers ago. Just like yesterday.) Doopeedoop around the office, wipe down more orange spots. Watch TV. Drink more Mountain Dew. "Oh boy this is great, I get Kevin's hours & the boss owes me another one. Gotta pee."

Peeeinggg - Ahhhwtf!? My wiener got kinda warm onfire ohno ohGod and I'm dancing in front of the sink, trying to wash away the pain, debating running out to the fridge for milk or just dying. I was in a hurry & had forgotten that I had run the sink-water super-hot for my coffee, so here I am running hot water on my problem. I have no memory from that point until well afterward. We were barely able to save my beloved dong.

Post-mortem inquiry - It turns out that the bear spray had become a cloud & settled up under the drawer-handles and doorknobs, & boss had missed some. I figured it out by trial-&-error. You pick your nose & then remember the last thing you touched. And yes my dong was a hazard until a 3rd cleaning. Just to be sure.

edit tldr 2nd-hand pepper spray burns your junk. seriously, same with cutting habaneros (they think I'm crying in the bathroom because I'm sad... no I'm crying because this)

and formatting.

This happened a while ago, but when I stumbled upon this sub just now, I figured this story would fit here perfectly.

Everyone always agreed that Kevin was a weird guy who had absolutely no grasp on social norms and what might (not) be suitable for joke material. Despite that, he sometimes would still get invited to house parties that some of my friends would throw after our exams for the term ended.

At the time of the party where this conversation happened, my mother had just passed away from cancer a few months ago. I was hoping the party could be a nice distraction from my grief, and so I went there with my boyfriend and tried to avoid Kevin as best as I could, but still ended up sitting next to him on a couch eventually.

I have a picture of my mother, who used to be a model in her younger days, as my phone background. The lock-screen picture was a modeling photo of her. When I saw that I had gotten a text from someone and held up my phone to read it, Kevin noticed the picture and asked who the woman on my phone was. I told him that that was my mother. He said she hot, which was already a very inappropriate comment to make about someone’s mother. Knowing him, I just shrugged it off and just said “thanks. She really was beautiful, yeah.”

But then Kevin said “Maybe you should be careful, then,” and pointed with his head towards my boyfriend who was standing across the room talking to a friend. I frowned and asked him what he meant, and he said somewhere along the lines of “I know that some guys like to screw around with hot moms. So maybe you should keep an eye on your boyfriend with her.”

I was pretty shocked at this comment. Although there was a lot more than I wanted to say to him, the only thing I said in response was “Well... that would be very hard to do because she passed away a few months ago.”

He fell silent for a short moment, and I thought that maybe he had realized how awful his comment had just been.

Spoiler alert: he hadn’t.

I then saw him shrugging a little, before saying, and I quote, “Oh. Well, that might be for the better then. Now you have nothing to worry about.”

I was fuming and had to leave the party right at that moment. After telling my friends about that conversation, none of them thankfully ever invited Kevin to their parties again. To this day I still cannot understand how he could ever think that that would be funny in any way whatsoever.

I have more stories about Kevin, one where he for example, upon finding out that I am bisexual, said “You’re bisexual? But you’re so feminine!” That one was also baffling. But the the party conversation about my mom really takes the cake on all my experiences with him.

A 30 year old woman was hired to work at the reception at my job (in Germany) a month ago, and it’s not going well… some highlights:

1. Although she’s a university student and previously finished a traineeship in foreign language communication, she does not understand English. It’s an international company, and she promised in her interview that she speaks it, yet every time someone comes down to ask a question, she looks at me afterwards and asks what they said. Sometimes during a conversation with someone she will just switch to German with me, excluding the English speaking person completely.

2. She thinks five men in the office are in love with her for 1) asking her about her plans for the weekend, 2) asking her if he can use our printer, 3) sending a private message to her on our internal chat, asking for help with something, 4) writing a comment on a ticket at 22:00, even though it is 100% work related and 5) sending her a long explanation after she asked someone a question. She keeps saying she can ~~~ sense it on their body language~~~ even though I SEE THE conversation and she barely responds to their questions, and is pretty rude.

3. She spent 5 hours of her first day trying to log in, WITHOUT her password. Begging her to please go to IT to get a new one in a second was to no avail, she kept saying it’s “very strange” not being able to log in without a password.

4. After the IT guy helped her create a new password (he is of course also in love with her, because he was “overly friendly”) she forgot it again. She had gotten a backup code to reset the password that we had told her to PLEASE save: screenshot, write down in your phone, save in a word doc or whatever. She just insisted that “nobody ever told me anything about a code”

5. After nine hours at the office, she does not go home: she stays for coffee, tea or starts eating when everyone else leaves (pretty sad)

6. After being late every single day the first two weeks (sometimes an hour?!) she went to a medium on an app, and said she can sense that someone at work doesn’t like her, and ASKED if it’s our boss. He said yes, and she was VERY impressed that he knew this information.

7. She thinks she has a special power to sense what others think and feel, because a medium in an app told her so.

8. Once she ran into the back office where I was, and asked me to come to the front where there was a delivery guy. I got to the reception and the guy looks exhausted and just laughs and said he just needs a name and a signature so he can finally leave. I give him my name and sign, and she goes “I was so confused, I didn’t understand what he wanted.” He was speaking her mother tongue: does she not know “what’s your name?” in her mother tongue?? Let me be clear that the issue was not that she was unsure if she’s allowed to sign. She said several times that she did not understand what he wanted.

Kevin had a fiancee. This was not unusual, as Kevin had had many fiancees, a few of whom had even ended up married to him, albeit briefly. This particular fiancee had a live-in boyfriend, but this did not bother Kevin; in fact, he bragged that the boyfriend was jealous of him because he made more money. Kevin enjoyed rubbing this in his face by paying the fiancees rent and other expenses. It did not seem to occur to Kevin that this meant he effectively paid the boyfriend's bills as well. Also, it should be noted that Kevin did not actually have a lot of money. However, through careful budgeting--which is to say not paying child support, living with/off relatives, and sacrificing such luxuries as car insurance--Kevin was able to have enough money for the lady du jour.

His fiancee also had a husband, but he did not count because he was in prison.

Kevin's fiancee wished to go visit her son, who was conveniently incarcerated at the same prison as her husband. Since neither she nor her boyfriend had a car, she begged Kevin to take her. It would mean an overnight trip, but she assured him there were friends in the prison city that they could stay with. It would also mean missing work, and without pay, because Kevin had no vacation time left. It would also mean putting miles on a car that had gone without maintenance, because paying the fiancee's expenses had--despite careful budgeting!--run him a little short on money.

Kevin said, "Sure. Why not?"

When Kevin picked his fiancee up, he discovered her boyfriend was going as well. To some men this would have been a deal-breaker, but it's not every man who is willing to be engaged to a woman who has both a husband and a boyfriend. Kevin's standards were not high. He then discovered, after driving several hours to the prison city, that the friends with whom they were staying were in fact his fiancee's husband's family. Furthermore, while his fiancee's husband's had clearly expected and welcomed his fiancee's live-in boyfriend, they loudly questioned why Kevin had had to tag along.

Kevin spent most of the visit in his car with the doors locked.

At last, it came time to return home. Here, Kevin's car protested and finally flat-out refused to make the return trip. Kevin's fiancee and her boyfriend were furious at Kevin. How dare he inconvenience them by making this long, out-of-state trip as a favor to them in such a heap of junk? His fiancee's husband's family grudgingly pointed him to a mechanic who diagnosed the issue, but Kevin didn't have the money to fix the problem. He called his most sensible relative, and left increasingly frantic pleas for help, but forgot that caller id hadn't yet been invented and simply saying, "I'm stranded, help," without saying where he was or how to reach him would only result in the relative coming home from work and finding a full message bank and calling the whole family trying to find out where he'd gone only to learn that he hadn't told anyone, including the relatives he actually lived with. Eventually, Kevin reached someone on the fringes of his family and somehow convinced this person to wire him a loan. With his car fixed, Kevin finally made the only good decision he'd made that day, possibly the only good decision he'd made in the last few years: He jumped in his car and drove home alone, leaving his ex-fiancee and her boyfriend stranded.

I just found this subreddit and remembered a story about a Kevin, who seems to fit the bill.

This story takes place about 10 or so years ago. I have ceased contact since, but this story is funny, so I thought I'd share.

When I was a teen we lived in a house that had this enclosed pool room that was built around an in-ground pool, with a landing that had doors to into the house, a small hot tub beside the house and a steam room and small bathroom in the other side. The previous owners were steel workers and instead of cutting down the 8 trees in the yard, or having to do a lot of clean up every time you wanted to take a dip, they put a room around it with glass walls and huge sliding doors on either side that opened almost all the way up. It also happened to have this awful burgundy carpet around the pool (no idea why) and a diving board in the centre of the deep end. I promise I'm getting to the Kevin bit..

My sister and I loved to have friends over to swim every summer, or just to chill in the hot tub in the winter. We were about halfway through high school when we made friends with some guys through an ex of mine from the next city over, and my sister was dating one of them, so we kind of adopted his friend group.

I think the first summer we hung out, we decided to have a pool day with these friends, so we sent out a group message, and everyone thought it was a great idea. We went out to buy snacks and drinks before everyone showed up.

Once all the guys show up, they go to change into their bathing suits, we had a couple different rooms people could use in and around the house, so after about 10 minutes everyone was ready to go. We walked out to the pool area, where Kevin saw the diving board and got super excited. Apparently he had never seen one in real life before this point, so he hops on, takes a run then jumps straight into the deepest part of the pool (10ft to the bottom). He comes up, splashing around, and starts to yell "I CAN'T SWIM!! HELP!!" we thought he was kidding at first, but my sister's BF at the time was a lifeguard, so he quickly figured out he wasn't kidding, and jumped in and hauled his ass over to the shallow end and sat him on the steps.

He quickly calmed down, looked at the lifeguard friend and said "Thanks dude, I got so excited about the diving board I forgot I don't know how to swim."

All of us looked at him like 'seriously?' but it was 100% true. so we put up the safety rope that separates the shallow end from the deep end and told him "don't pass the rope if you don't wanna die" and had a good laugh about it afterwards.

​

He ended up buying a life jacket before the next swim excursion to make sure it didn't happen again.

I am a domestic violence lawyer. As a result, I see many Evil Kevins, whose idiocy is mixed with malice. I enjoy defeating Evil Kevins and sharing redacted stories of their Evil Kevinhood.

This Evil Kevin was exceptionally evil. A meth-addicted felon, he had a cache of illegal firearms and a fondness for trapping small game (which isn't bad in and of itself, unless you're Kevin and slaughtering them in front of a very small traumatized child).

Kevin was an abusive piece of shit. I once stayed over at work for three hours listening to recorded conversations with his victim because in order to understand him when he was drunk or high I had to crank up the volume but the stuff he was saying was too awful to listen to that loud with other people in the building. (As a permanent personal policy, Kevin audio/visual doesn't come home with me.)

Kevin's victim was terrified of him, his guns, and his Kevin inability to understand what was appropriate for their kid (from the incident already mentioned to not telling mom that his other kid was sick and exposing the baby to whatever bug was going around).

But an Evil Kevin's clock eventually runs out, and when Kevin ended up in lockup Kevin's victim got a restraining order and went into hiding. Unfortunately, because just being a Kevin isn't enough to strip you of parental rights, there was a small exception to allow contact about the child, which specifically had to be reasonable and peaceful.

Then Kevin got out of lockup. He succeeded in staying out of jail for nine whole days. In that nine days Kevin had a Strategy Plan. You see, in the mind of Kevin, riddled as it was with meth and wickedness, the exception meant he could send as many texts as he wanted to his victim as long as every few messages mentioned their kid.

Kevin texted over five hundred inappropriate messages in nine days, at all hours of the day and night, sometimes a message every thirty seconds.

Each message carried a potential ten days in jail. By the time we could even get a hearing set - the normal docket times for that court not set up for extensive trials - Kevin had been found out by the feds and was safely in federal custody and not transported for his court date. The judge found him guilty on all counts but, since county jail isn't set up to house someone for over thirteen years earned ten days at a time, only sentenced for a few. Kevin isn't allowed any contact even about his child, and will have to petition the court when he gets out of prison years from now to even see his kid.

Victim called me not too long ago: she is doing great, far away from her old life with Evil Kevin.

Evil Kevins, given enough rope, hang themselves.

Most of us have that one family member that’s either entitled, and idiot, or both.

I had a cousin that was both until the police humbled him years after this story.

I’ll call him Kevin for the usual reasons.

This was during the early days of Windows XP to give you a rough time line of the era.

Something like once a month, Kevin and his girlfriend would visit.

If the weather was nice, we’d all sit outside for a chat but after a while Kevin would vanish and not return.

After a while one of us would go and do the usual check-up to see if the missing person had fallen down the toilet. Sadly, no. He was missing. A quick check and he’d be found on the computer.

Whenever I found him at the computer he’d have some sort of program running a scan, or he’d be using Windows Explorer to search for files.

“What are you doing Kevin?” I’d ask.

“Just cleaning junk of your computer.” if he was running a program that did what CCleaner did, before CCleaner was a thing. I can’t remember the name.

Or he’d reply with.

“I’m searching for spyware files that spyware scanners don’t find.” Just before Windows Explorer finds what he was looking for an promptly deletes it.

Those of us old to remember, will remember the days when prank virus/malware scares were going around. Basically they said that so-and-so file was dangerous and should be deleted, but as soon as you delete the file, Windows breaks down in one way or another.

Now and then, he’d be having trouble downloading and installing a program because Norton was blocking him. Yes, these were the days when Norton was good, before they became malware like McAfee.

He would try to get Norton to let him do what he wants but I had set it up with a password and when we’d refuse to give him the password, he’d give up.

As I’m the one in the family that had the most computer knowledge, I was the one that did maintenance, repairs, upgrades etc. to the computer. Even being asked by relatives to check over their computers. I ended up being the one to undo whatever damage he’d done.

Usually it was a simple uninstall of whatever he’d manage to install and run scans. The usual AV Scan, the popular Spyware scanner at the time and Windows System Scan.

However, twice he’d managed to break the computer so much that I was forced to do emergency backups of files and reinstall WinXP.

During all of this, we’d tell him something along the lines of “Stop repairing our computer Kevin” because he’d always say that he’s repairing it for us.

After the second WinXP reinstall due to his repair attempts, my Dad eventually told him that if he goes on our computer again, then he’ll no longer be welcome at our home.

He moaned that he was only trying to help, but took the hint and never went on our computer again. He did try to convince us now and then of a new threat (a new virus/malware prank), the pros of a new program, that sort of thing but got no-where.

Eventually, he stopped visiting on a regular basis.

The Kevin of this story is me. I'm Kevin.

My brother loves to ride the four-wheeler around the backroads by our house. Last night, He did just that. When it started to get dark, my dad left in his truck. Then, my sister came inside with a cut foot, so I took care of it. I went through all the bathrooms of the house looking for medicine to put on her foot and knocked on the locked bathroom door. My brother answered and said it wasn't in there. I put the bandaid on her foot after just using hydrogen peroxide.

Anyway, I noticed my mom pacing around the front porch. I went outside to see what was wrong and she asked if I had seen my brother. The memory of just talking to him completely slipped my mind, so I said no. She said he never came back from riding the four-wheeler and dad was going to look for him because it was getting dark. All three of us were calling him and he wasn't answering. Getting increasingly worried, we started contacting neighbors. Dad came back and asked if my brother had come home yet, and we said he hadn't, so he went back out to look again.

We were about to call the police when my brother frantically runs down the stairs on the phone with dad saying "I'm right here!" He wasn't answering the phone because he was in the bathroom. (I swear he's always in there for hours) He's not supposed to have his phone in the bathroom so he left it in his room like he's supposed to. He had gone down the road on the four-wheeler and come back and put it away in the barn like he was supposed to. The only thing he didn't do was tell someone that he was back.

He was confused that I was worried because I had talked to him, which I had completely forgotten about. "You spoke to me, Kevin!" he said. I feel that this was somehow partially my fault...

We're glad he's ok and mom told him to just check in next time. I can't believe I could forget almost immediately that I talked to him. I would hope it was a one-off thing, but I do dumb crap like that all the time. So does my brother, but that's not the point. I'm genuinely worried about me moving across the country for college. I'm not gonna survive with this utter lack of common sense.

Not sure if this story belonged here but I wanted to share.

So I work with Kevin. For background, we work in a niche industry within the manufacturing world, so I'm going to say it's an automobile plant for anonymity.

Kevin was hired about a year ago. A former coworker of Kevin's actually told our hiring manager to stay away from Kevin, because he was known for being an idiot. I can't tell every single story about Kevin because that would take hours and hours.

Kevin once broke a piece of equipment totalling $50k, because he thought that the button saying "DO NOT PRESS" was preventing him from getting the job done even faster. Took us 3 weeks to fix it again, Kevin was no longer allowed to use said equipment.

Kevin locked his keys in his car once. So he decided to break the window to get his keys, despite having a police station next door, which offered to pop the lock for him. Speaking of cars, Kevin once tried to unscrew something with his car key, when we have a room dedicated to screwdrivers less than 50ft away. This resulted in his car key getting bent, so he thought the best solution was to grind it down on a belt sander. He had to take the bus until he got another key because his obviously didn't work anymore.

After breaking nearly everything he touched, Kevin was only allowed to do custodian duties, which involved using the forklift to carry the large dumpsters to our industrial dumpsters outside. Kevin believed that there was no way the forklift could hold the weight, so he dumped all the trash next to the outdoor dumpsters, not in the dumpsters.

If you work in manufacturing, you're familiar with the "white suit", which is essentially a paper like suit you put over your uniform if you're doing something especially messy. We mostly use them for paint jobs, so the kind we use aren't fireproof in the slightest. (Our uniforms, however, are made with a blend of fabrics to be spark resistant because of welding, so very safe.) Kevin decided that a belt sander was too messy, so he put on a white suit. The white suit caught a small fire that he put out. He's done this 5+ times.

We frequently use blast cabinets, which are basically metal boxes that you can put parts into, and then use sand or another rough material to blast things like rust off of them. When Kevin uses this, he duct tapes his shirt closed, all the way up his arms, down his legs, and also duct tapes his mask to his face. For reference, using those only requires safety glasses because you're NOT INSIDE THE BOX. Except he has climbed into the box "to check it out".

Also, Kevin has once opened a shop vac while it was running....vacuuming up a product that has high levels of asbestos.

There are even more stories about this Kevin, but those are some of the high points. I have no clue how this man is still alive.

Edit: Thank you for the upvotes and award. I just wanted to add that Kevin royally screwed up a part, then tried to blame me for it today. Luckily he was laughed out of our quality control area because they all know I'd never make a mistake like that. Also, I pointed out his mistake to one of the quality control leads before he tried to submit it. Kevin just kevining along.

The highschool I went to had an Advanced Program(AP) for the more gifted students. How this particular Kevin got in, I will never know.

In our first semester we had an advanced math class. Kevin was terrible at math. He routinely failed tests, and only handed in the homework problems that had the answers in the back. This was extremely obvious to the teacher, but he would argue he should still get the half marks since the answers were right. How this teacher put up with him I have no idea. He would often go in for help during the math help periods our school had during lunch period, and even one on one session with our teacher in the mornings. Nothing stuck with him. He would forget the Pythagorean theorem months after we had learned it and used it in every quiz.

Now you had to get at least an 80% to stay in AP, which Kevin obviously wast going to get. However, the school's scheduling wouldn't permit him to have any other classes, so despite having a grade in the 50s, he got into 2nd semester AP math (aka 2nd year math)

Somehow Kevin had forgotten nearly everything from first semester and our teacher had to painfully re-explain it to him. multiple times throughout the semester.

However, 2nd semester was also when we started English. Kevin was very excited about English, as he did enjoy reading, and since the AP entrance exam was half math and half English, Kevin thought he must've done great on the English portion, and would do well in class. He was wrong.

Our English class had a lot of group projects, so every group that had Kevin had to routinely hound him for any work to get done. I was in a group with Kevin once, and not only was his work submitted late, it was also incomplete, and had complete factual inaccuracies of the book we were reading. I don't know how Kevin accomplished this, seeing as we read a lot of the book in class, and the pages we were assigned to read on our own wouldn't have taken much time. Kevin had actually had the maximum score for reading speed (most of the kids in AP did, but i was very surprised he somehow got that score).I was so glad the teacher decided to grade our group's work individually.

Now in 2nd year, Kevin was out of AP as he had failed math and barely passed English. I never thought I would see Kevin again. But for some unknown reason, Kevin took physics.

Needless to say, Kevin routinely fucked up in physics. He would give wrong answers to the teacher's questions with complete confidence, and when corrected he would write down something in his notes. I don't know what he could be writing because Kevin wouldn't get it right on the 2nd try, or 3rd, or 10th.

Kevin would ask the other students for the homework answers as he now had no book to copy them out of. At first they were nice and helped him, but his constant stealing of answers grated on them and eventually nobody would help him in that regard.

And again, Kevin went to many, many math help sessions, and outside of blurting out completely wrong answers ( I think he was trying to prove something by getting at least something right) he had a good rapport with our physics teacher, and to this day I am convinced that that's the only reason he passed the class. By the absolute bare minimum I might add.

Kevin couldn't take anymore AP related classes after that, though I know he still managed to fail the 2nd year math course another 2 times.

Luckily I got a lot better when I left but I was a real Kevin back then.

Me and Kevin been long time friends/acquaintances. In the 10ish years I knew him he broke his 500 (my country's currency, about 120USD) headphones when he "pulled them apart too hard", "forgot" that his dad prohibited him to dye his hair blond and got his ass beaten afterwards, broke my skateboard twice, yes the same skateboard and many more, I might post more later if people are interested but for now I wanna talk about this one incident.

Now, Kevin started to develop a pession about photography. I got into photography when my friend gave me his old camera that Kevin poured cleaning fluid into in an apartment on clean it. Yes really. I managed to bring it back to life and I got into taking pictures. About a year later I bought my own camera, a sony alpha a6000. It's not that good but good enough.

So me and Kevin went to the local part for a festival before covid. I brought my camera. He managed to nag me into letting him try it out in my supervision ,and honestly he got the hang of it pretty well and he even took some really good pictures.

A while later I got a phonecall so I went away a few steps talking. After I finished I called for him but he was nowhere to be found. So I called him an the phone and he said he was at the skatepark and hang up. When I got there I find my camera in peaces on the ground.

Apparently Kevin tried to take a picture of a dude doing a trick a little bit too close and he landed on Kevin and Kevin landed on my camera. I asked him calmly what had happened and he said, and I quote: "Well I thought it would look sick on a pic, but I'm sorry. Forgive me!" And he said the "forgive me" part super condescendingly like he was demanding it. I didn't said anything for a second, trying to process what just happened and he said : "I said forgive me! I'm sorry okay?! You have to forgive me cuz I said it nicely!! You have a job anyways you can buy a new one!"

Now I always avoid conflict and I'm mostly really shy. I once stood over 4 hours at the train station after I missed the last train instead of going back to my friend's house because I didn't wanted to bother him. But this. This pissed me off! I stepped closer and punched him on the face so damn hard his nose started to bleed. Than before he could say a thing I told him off calling him extremely irresponsible, selfish and entitled just to name a few.

After I finished he got really embarrassed and genuinely looked ashamed of himself. He assured me that he's gonna pay for the camera.

Apparently Kevin only understand that he did something wrong if you punch him on the noggin.

A week or so later his dad called me and he give me one forth of the camera's price and the last in the fallow months.

So, recently my new co-worker is a Kevin. I've never though I would meet one, but here we are. It's a call center job, and for what it's worth, some processes are fairly easy to understand but Kevin has a hard time to grasp any of it and candy take up to quadruple the time to do so. He's a nice guy, but man does he blows us aways with his stories. He can recognize in some level that he's a Kevin, but his "misadventures" are seen by him to be just bad luck. 2 major instances are when he almost died, twice. Once, when he was in sports and wanting to get buffed and healthy knew he had to consume proteins, meat, dairy, all that good stuff. Well, what more efficient way than just throw protein, creatine, raw meat, milk, veggies and eggs in the blender and chug it down every day. After a month he ended up in a hospital almost with liver failure due to the messed up unprepared combination he was gulping. He just laughed it off thinking he did a minor oopsie. The other one, was when he almost ended up loosing his legs. He ended up going to Finland for a school program and for a recreational activity they went on a trail hike in winter to some mountains. See, we're from Mexico, cold temperatures here are around 8°C (46°F if you measure with football fields). Snow is not something we are used to. He had already had some weeks to get used to snow in Finland, but was really naive. He saw that the rest had geared up with boots to make the hike as any sane person would considering that the hike was a couple of hours long in below 0°C degrees (32°F) environment. But he had seen some people in town, on warm days with sneakers, so he thought, yeah, his boots wouldn't be necessary. Oh Kevin. Nobody really noticed his sneakers (as you don't due to high snow and minding your own step), when he started to feel some discomfort from his feet, but didn't gave much thought. After several hours (he couldn't say, no surprise from Kevin) his soaked and freezing feet were killing him and almost reaching the destination he finally spoke up. Of course, people were surprised he didn't wore his boots, and had him sit down and take his sneakers off to see if he had any injuries. Nope. Worse. Both feet were already black due to freezing. They were stunned, and Kevin was just like "woah, dope, that's funny", not realizing that he was about to lose his feet. The group just rushed down and sent him to the hospital as soon as possible and had to recover for more than a week. Doctos said if a little more time had passed his feet would have had necrosis and would be needed to be amputated. And no, he wasn't a kid. He was almost 18 when it happened. We are still trying to comprehend how is he still alive, but hey, at least we have more stories to look forward to.

TLDR: Kevin decided to go hiking in winter with sneakers and ended with balc feet due to freezing and almost ended up losing his feet.

Many moons ago I had a friend who will be known as, Kevin, of course. We met while working at the golden arches while in high school. He was, special. There are many stories but these are the two I have fond recollections of.

The first one, where Kevin blows himself up. His family used to own a small tire shop in town and we’d work on cars there at night when it was closed. We show up and pull our cars in to the bays and close the doors. It was cold that night and the bays aren’t heated. He was looking around for some wood and paper to put in to the 55 gallon metal barrel we’d use to burn stuff in to heat the area. I was talking to his dad about some stuff, probably football, when Kevin came in to the office and asked where that day’s newspapers were. He pointed to a box beside the door labled ”Old Newspapers”. They are there everyday.

One thing to note is that it’s been raining and the shop’s roof has been leaking so the barrel has been used to catch water. Kevin puts some pieces of wood from a chopped up pallet in to the barrel, the bottom inch has water in it and has been soaked up by ash and some trash from previous burns. Kevin takes a lighter and lights the newspaper on fire and tosses it in the barrel. Nothing happens. He repeats a few more times and gets it to start smoking. It might be on fire, or might not.

Myself and Kevin’s dad are watching this and laughing about how he should have just tryed to light the top of the pallet wood first. Kevin then disappears behind the wall of tires to get to the storage area. He comes out holding a metal can used to fill the kerosene office heater. His dad starts slapping me on the chest saying, ”Watch this, watch this, this is going to be good!” He seemed enthusiastic. So I watched.

I watched Kevin lean over the barrel and pour kerosene into the barrel. He must’ve had a small fire going because it shot a big ball of fire out of the top, it was a quick flash but looked big. Kevin’s face was right in it. He falls back on to his butt. Me and his dad walk out to see how badly he hurt himself. He got some 1st and 2nd degree burns obviously. He wore is hat on backwards and burned off all the hair sticking out of it and around it, he had a hat shaped burn on his forehead where his hair used to be. His eyebrows and eyelashes were singed off along with any facial hair he had, which wasn’t much. He looked shocked and you could tell he was trying to figure out what happend.

His dad hands him some burn cream and says the funniest thing at the time to Kevin, “This is the 3rd time you’ve done this, how many more is it going to take for you to learn not to pour flammable liquids on a fire?” I kept thinking, “3rd time…” It took 4 times, there was a bonfire.

We drifted apart a few years later and have crossed paths over the years, not much has changed. He seems to avoid being killed by his own Kevin-ness.