Some dude named John can't read the private messages sent here. I don't think there's a lot of places where that kind of a statement might be relevant, but sometimes the words just spring forth, as if from a muse, and it seems wrong to hide that sort of inspiration from the world.
Personally, I find that my private thoughts when given unbidden to others, can be a source of trouble, and is likely the reason I can no longer shop at Marks & Spencer's or approach within 50 metres of the Baptist church, and although a life of social disapprobation may suit me and in rare cases expand my social circle, (albeit just the Baptist ministers wife, smiling when we meet in the Co-op), I would countenance restraint. However, I do welcome the deliberations of others.
How can dogs shed so much hair and not go bald? Why does dust collect on the blades of a fan, shouldn't they blow away? Is the instant anxiety I felt when I heard a tree limb crash to the ground a leftover primal instinct? *Legend of Zelda song stuck in my head* I need to clean out the chicken coop. Lunch.
Quote from: Jura on Feb 26, 2025, 12:57 PMlikely the reason I can no longer shop at Marks & Spencer's
SCG thinks our belief in free speech is insufficiently robust and she might have a point. But goddammit, we will die on a battlefield to defend our right to shop at M&S.
I genuinely think my dad would join some kind of terror cell if they stopped him (especially if he still had unspent tokens for the cafe). He's 81.
He handled the meat then picked up the cheese, perhaps choking him wasn't the accepted method of chastisement, either way I prefer Waitrose.
And don't get me on dog hair, we have a cross Husky, we are sweeping three times a day at the moment.
(https://i.imgur.com/o7rDazB.jpeg)
I believe Beebee was born to shed.
Also, your dog looks very sweet.
Should I buy olive loaf or pickle loaf next time I go to the market?
From a short but intense bout of delving into both of these hitherto unknown foodstuffs and correct me if I'm wrong.
All the bits of a carcass that are considered waste, are pureed and forced through a mechanical sieve to make a slurry, mixed with something to give it some taste (the olive or pickle conundrum), the ubiquitous corn syrup and a lot of things from a chemistry set that contain sodium and formed into something pinkish then vac-packed?
Olive, definitely the olive.
I like olive loaf better anyway.
Quote from: Unicorn Peptide Cake on Feb 27, 2025, 02:37 AMShould I buy olive loaf or pickle loaf next time I go to the market?
Olive.
I'm confused about this Andrew Tate and brother thing, I don't have a Xitter account and never come in to contact with the manosphere thing apart from the odd spat with D1, but from what I can gather, a man who used to get kicked in the head for a living somehow became an internet guru to incels, and is awaiting charges in Romania and the UK for rape, human trafficking, sex with a minor and money laundering, but the US put pressure on the Romanian government to get him released.
I suppose my question is why does the US want him back?
Ron DeSantis has pissed off some MAGAs by saying the Tates aren't welcome here (in Florida).
Well, I don't often agree with De-Satan, but I have his back on this one.
At this point, I'm convinced the Big Kahuna wanted him back simply to troll the libs
Quote from: Space Cowgirl on Feb 28, 2025, 01:23 PMRon DeSantis has pissed off some MAGAs by saying the Tates aren't welcome here (in Florida).
It is clearly ridiculous to say sex criminals and people traffickers aren't welcome in Florida.
Does anybody else think that the new post icons on the forum look like a crab?
I'm not seeing it....
I think, having followed a man through the village the other day (on foot, and by chance, not weirdly just walking, ok), that deportment is important.
Context, he was a stoutish fellow and I became mesmerized by the way he walked.
Arms slightly away from the body as if contact with his own torso was forbidden, not swinging naturally but jerkily like a robot starved of lubrication and stamping his feet down. I surmised that there may have been perhaps a dash of military or maybe he was trying to convey that in a batesian mimicry kind of way, as a warning to predators that he wasn't to be fucked with, it was certainly a belligerent promenade.
So after about half a mile he turned off, and I became worried about whether my walk was the subject of other people's debate. As it happened it was one of those rare English spring days where the sun was not only out but at my back, having convinced myself that I was shambling along like a puppet with half its strings cut I was pleasantly surprised to observe a shadow that moved easily and conveyed a comfortable and relaxed gait, not menacing or cowed just chillin, this plus the clemency of the day certainly raised my spirit.
Update on this.
I told my wife this story, and whilst she agreed that I walk okay and she isn't embarrassed walking next to me, she did say that I run like one of the walking dead with a slashed Achilles, which is a bit harsh considering years of cycling in all weathers has left my knees a wreck, but she laughed at my pain and gave me her "suck it up snowflake," look.