How often do you say “no” to things that would interfere with your goals?
I’ve only learned later in life to prioritize myself for my mental sanity. A lot of my life growing up was not saying no enough it was a price I paid while growing up.
The goal I think of here is trying to set boundaries. If I’d have done it earlier in life, a lot of crap I deal with now wouldn’t be still bothering me.
Did you hear the news? England’s National Health Service (NHS) has decided that children diagnosed with gender dysphoria will no longer receive puberty blockers because “there is not enough evidence to support the safety or clinical effectiveness … to make the treatment routinely available at this time.”
The premier of Alberta, Canada, is planning legislation to restrict “gender-affirming” surgeries such as mastectomies for minors and puberty blockers for youth aged 15 and under. Other socially liberal nations have also hit the brakes on “gender affirmation,” in children, including Norway, Finland, France, Denmark, Sweden, and New Zealand. So have a score of American states.
Why did it take so long for common sense to return to this contentious issue? Blame the cultural imperialism of gender ideologues who, while most of us were not paying attention, successfully instituted “treatment guidelines” that focused almost exclusively on “affirming” a child’s gender confusion as medically necessary, while branding the more cautious approach of deeply exploring the mental health issues that could have contributed to the patient’s confusion as “transphobic,” and, even, likely to drive gender-confused children to suicide.
Kids can’t decide what they want to eat. It’s the grown ups who are forcing this on them
A new report is raising concerns over General Mills’ new cereal line after testing revealed that Trix LOADED cereal is literally loaded with high levels of heavy metals and agrochemicals.
General Mills, Inc. on Feb. 1 launched “LOADED,” a new cereal line with “puffed-up larger-than-life squares” of General Mills’ Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Trix, and Cocoa Puffs cereals filled with artificially flavored vanilla creme. Trix LOADED boasts 17 grams of whole grain per serving and 12 vitamins and minerals. Yet testing by Moms Across America (MAA), an organization dedicated to educating and empowering others to create healthy communities, found the artificially flavored creme-filled breakfast food also contains measurable levels of aluminum, cadmium, arsenic, lead, mercury, glyphosate, and pesticides shown to be harmful to humans.
In a statement to The Epoch Times, MAA director Zen Honeycutt said her organization tested two samples of General Mills’ Trix LOADED cereal because they were alarmed that the company, which had previously seemed very committed to supporting regenerative organic agriculture, launched a cereal “loaded with creme, food dyes, and highly-processed foods.”
In test results obtained by MAA, scientists found residues from eight different pesticides in both samples of Trix LOADED cereal.
The following six pesticide residues were found in trace amounts:
Two pesticides, piperonyl butoxide-1 (PBO) and fluopyram-1, were detected in higher amounts. Fluopyram-1 is a broad-spectrum fungicide that can cause liver problems, endocrine disruption, and thyroid cancer.
What’s a secret skill or ability you have or wish you had?
I have spatial awareness and can see how things fit together. Also, as an introvert, I can read people through their body language I’ve had these all my life, but became cutely aware of them as I grew older.
What do you wish you could do more every day?
Remember, all of the stuff that has happened in my life so that I can enjoy it or not make that mistake again.
What activities do you lose yourself in?
Let’s see, over the years it’s been fishing, hunting, karate, racing, tennis, Biking, and then there was kids and Life, and other stuff, and the next thing I knew I’ve lived in seven decades. I mostly do introvert stuff now so I get lost in my mind a lot.
After graduating from high school, a group of us decided to play in an organized softball league. Our choice at that time was down to church league softball. While we played and did OK, which I’ll talk about later, the extracurricular activities were more interesting. It’s later on in the post.
Our team was part of of the same group who lost almost every game in church league basketball, mostly because we were a bunch of white guys thinking we could play. There were some people who resembled athletes on this team. My roommate George and I both played tennis for our colleges, but that didn’t qualify us as good softball players. We had a couple of players who were little league stars, but as a group we weren’t that good.
Before I get started, this is a good lead in to the story.
We didn’t have a fistfight, at least on our team, but it did happen, between two other teams, both of which we played. A lot of other growing up stuff did happen though.
We were in that stage of just being out of high school, but growing up late and were starting to experiment with life. We also weren’t the star players on the baseball team either.
I guess we started out serious. We had just enough people for a team, All Saints Episcopal (we would be anything but Saints). I don’t remember if we had a team name, but it wouldn’t have been the Yankees. Misfit’s would have been more accurate. If anyone bailed, we’d have to forfeit. It was close some days whether enough guys would show up, but we managed to play the season. Of the nine guys, I think we had 4 that who actually played organized baseball. They put up with the lack of skills by the rest of us.
We picked positions and somehow I got 3rd base, far too close to home and a position I’d never played before. I’m pretty sure I was the kid in right field in my one year foray in little league at 7 years old. After a few practices, we thought we were ready to play and tear up the league. I think we believed the same thing in the basketball failure a few years earlier when we won 1 game all season.
In the first game, damn near the first batter of the year, a hard grounder was hit right to me. I was as shocked as anyone when I fielded it. I turned and fired a throw to the first baseman about 5 feet above his head. Since this was over 40 years ago now, I can’t remember whether we won or not. I’m pretty sure we lost as we did a lot of that.
In a subsequent game, another batter hit a line shot and I stuck my glove up and actually caught it. I was as surprised as anyone on the field, but had the sense of awareness to look like I meant to do it.
What saved us in a lot of games was enough singles by us to get batters on, but count on our big sticks, Pat and Mark Greene, Chris Patterson and an occasional lucky hit by others to score enough runs to overcome the errors in the field. Occasionally, we’d actually pull off a great play like a throw from deep left to home to get the runner out. Since the catcher never played before, it was a crap shoot whether he’d catch it or not and that we got the out surprised everyone on the field. He was a Dad who was a good sport to put up with us. He had no idea what we did off the field and was as (in)capable as the rest of us on the field (barely).
We’d go on to be about a .500 team. Being a church league, we were fortunate to face groups of people without any little league players who were actually worse than us, or a forfeit.
In the last game of the season against St Margaret Mary, my parents finally came to see me play. They had Ryan Sanderson on the other side, who was a starter at the University of Florida. Ryan also starred at our high school and it would be like playing pick up basketball with Michael Jordan on the other team. Ever at bat went over the fence.
I hit my only homer of the season in that game, in front of my Dad. It was a perfect ending to my only year of somewhat organized softball. Our team went on to hit 16 homers in that game and lost. The other team hit over 20. I’m sure Ryan had at least 5, or how ever many times he got up to bat. Hitting one out in front of my parents overshadowed the loss. Plus, the following made us forget everything.
EXTRACURRICULAR ACTIVITIES
On the field, we’d try stupid stuff like our first foray’s into chewing tobacco thinking we would be like the big leagues. I remember putting a wad of Red Man into my mouth and heading out to third. By mid inning, I was spitting everything I could and dying for the inning to end so that I could get that shit out of my mouth without embarrassing myself in front of my friends. We routinely had macho contests to prove our masculinity and I couldn’t fail at this in public.
Here’s Robert Earl Keen on dipping snuff, funny song
Fortunately, it was a quick inning and I escaped embarrassment as well as losing my dinner.
After it became clear that we weren’t going to the world series, our other adventures in life crept in. We decided that it would be a good idea to get high before the games and see if we could play. Mark Imhoof who was a regular user provided the goods and the bong. He was the kid who got high in High School, had long hair and a van. He was a good player and the friend of someone else on the team, but he never went to our church. Come to think of it, most of the rest of us had stopped going to church by then also. Since I was high, I’m sure we didn’t play our best, but by then we didn’t really care as much. We came out of that van like Cheech and Chong, trailing smoke.
My roommate George and I lived in his parents house. It was my first home away from home. His parents were missionaries in Guatemala at the time. When the cat’s away, we were the mice. It was the place our friends from the team came to to do stuff they couldn’t do when they were in town and at their parents, meaning drinking and getting high. Many of us lost our virginity there, to the same girl on different nights in different rooms in the house.
AFTER THE GAME
Being a church league team, we celebrated after the game spiritually by going to wherever the pitchers of beer were the cheapest. I recall one dive called the Copper Top. We also went to the Steak Out where you got free Sangria with an order of a steak tough enough to wear as a desert boot. I’m sure they lost money on us given what we drank and we’d go out afterwards for more. We finally got kicked out and got banned from coming back.
There was always beat the clock at Big Daddy’s. If you know the game, the price goes up after a certain time, so you drink as fast as you can at first to keep the price down. We were in college working for minimum wage at the time ($2.00). The beginning price was a nickel a beer and it doubled every half hour. I was hammered by the first tick of the clock as were the rest of the team.
On the off chance that we played on Wednesday, it was also nickle beer night at Rosie O’Grady’s in downtown Orlando.
Nevertheless, a healthy activity sponsored by a religious organization turned into a night of us getting fucked up. I don’t think I had early classes, but I missed them if I did.
That of course led to…
LATE NIGHT GREASE TO SOAK UP THE ALCOHOL
We hit a number of places. Back then, the Grand Slam was $1.99, affordable and enough food to soak up some of the beer before bed.
The other place was Krystal’s. I think the burgers were a nickle there also. It became a dick measuring contest to see how many you could eat. I topped out at 11, but Marc Greene regularly at 25 and went over 30 on some nights. I was in awe of him being an eating machine.
In the end, we only lasted that one season. We were kind of done when we started getting high before the games.
I lost track of most of the players. George and I wound up being best men at each other’s weddings and today are still friends. He transferred out of state to another college and I moved on campus at mine. We never went back to that church again, except for my parents funerals.
Growing up comes in many flavors. This was just the start of my fucking up in life. I had many adventures to come that made this tame.
I for one am glad. I’m old enough that most of my fucking up in life was before the internet and only I really know the story of my misdeeds and untoward activity.
A lot of people say stupid shit online, or brag about stuff they shouldn’t to show off or get likes. Until now, the internet was forever. It may still be if you search hard enough, but Google is evil and presents the worst of behavior easily. Now, the idiots may be protected.
Google will no longer be keeping a backup of the entire Internet. Google Search’s “cached” links have long been an alternative way to load a website that was down or had changed, but now the company is killing them off. Google “Search Liaison” Danny Sullivan confirmed the feature removal in an X post, saying the feature “was meant for helping people access pages when way back, you often couldn’t depend on a page loading. These days, things have greatly improved. So, it was decided to retire it.”
The feature has been appearing and disappearing for some people since December, and currently, we don’t see any cache links in Google Search. For now, you can still build your own cache links even without the button, just by going to “https://webcache.googleusercontent.com/search?q=cache:” plus a website URL, or by typing “cache:” plus a URL into Google Search. For now, the cached version of Ars Technica seems to still work. All of Google’s support pages about cached sites have been taken down.
Cached links used to live under the drop-down menu next to every search result on Google’s page. As the Google web crawler scoured the Internet for new and updated webpages, it would also save a copy of whatever it was seeing. That quickly led to Google having a backup of basically the entire Internet, using what was probably an uncountable number of petabytes of data. Google is in the era of cost savings now, so assuming Google can just start deleting cache data, it can probably free up a lot of resources.
Cached links were great if the website was down or quickly changed, but they also gave some insight over the years about how the “Google Bot” web crawler views the web. The pages aren’t necessarily rendered like how you would expect. In the past, pages were text-only, but slowly the Google Bot learned about media and other rich data like javascript (there are a ton of specialized Google Bots now). A lot of Google Bot details are shrouded in secrecy to hide from SEO spammers, but you could learn a lot by investigating what cached pages look like. In 2020, Google switched to mobile-by-default, so for instance, if you visit that cached Ars link from earlier, you get the mobile site. If you run a website and want to learn more about what a site looks like to a Google Bot, you can still do that, though only for your own site, from the Search Console.
click above for more, but I think you get the drift
I especially like the New Yorker cartoon. It’s an old guy joke that ends, because they can.
William “Bill” Post — the man who created the beloved toaster treat Pop-Tarts — died on Saturday, his family announced. He was 96.
Post, a Michigan native and son of immigrants who worked his way up from a truck washer to a senior vice president, brightened millions of Americans’ mornings with the sweet pastry that hit the shelves in 1964.
The great-grandfather is often credited with inventing the breakfast treat, though he would always say it was a team effort, according to his obituary.
Post was raised in Grand Rapids as one of seven children of Dutch immigrants. He married his high school sweetheart, Florence Schut, and served in the Army Air Corps in occupied Japan.
I ate them, but it wasn’t the staple it was for my kids. Knowing what I know now about diets, I’d have never given them to the kids, but when you are working on a couple of hours of sleep and you’ll do anything to get food in your kids before school…..pop tarts.
In grade school, we made bags for all the kids to put in a Valentines card for everybody in class. It was before we were old enough to have gf/bf and before the woke ruined everything it touched because some kid didn’t get one.
We’d get a pack of 30 of these at the five and dime and then sign your name on them and put one in the bags.
As I look back on this, I have no idea if I got one from every kid or not. I never checked. I bet every girl made sure they got one though. The girls understood social stuff way before the guys did.
I recall it being a tedious task because just like now, I didn’t really care that much about others socially. I knew they weren’t really all my friends, and this would prove to be true in life as I went to school with these kids as much as 21 year for some (kindergarten through college).
Puberty hadn’t set in and we (they) hadn’t started imposing the caste system of have’s and have not’s on kids based on looks, sports ability or general group hate. Kids are mean.
Fortunately, I kept to myself and stayed on the sidelines on this, but I knew then what I know now. That is the life of an introvert. As soon as the bags were opened and you looked at the cards, no one cared anymore. I saw this in advance. It’s why I had no clue whether to see if I got one from everyone, or even to check.
It’s why now if I give a gift, I meant it. Conversely, if you didn’t get one, I meant that also. I could never really deny my feelings to fit in. I just didn’t want to and knew it wasn’t worth it.
As soon as we didn’t make the bags, I didn’t give the card.
As I grew older though, my girlfriends all got good gifts from me while they were around. On the other hand, I don’t recall ever getting a good VD gift. Not even VD on VD.
images from Mike Miles
Since the beginning of time, girls invent childish shit tests to see what they can make you do to prove your love. Once you are not willing to do stupid stuff and are confident in yourself, you can have an actually good relationship. It happens when you kick these types of girls to the curb immediately. It will save you a lot of time, trouble and social media BS. Once you realize that they can’t hold their nookie over your head, you can then be adults about it as girls have no other leverage. As I told one ex when kicking her out, there is no golden pussy.
These are invented by assholes on Tik Tok to poison girls into thinking this is love. It is much deeper than this type of relationship control, but nevertheless…….
Here goes:
Would You Dump Someone If They Didn’t Peel An Orange
Like one of those secretly mordant fairy tales about mermaids sacrificing their fins or maidens poisoned and sleeping forever, there is apparently a new test to tell if love is true: fetch and denude me an orange.
The gist: If your partner strips the rind off the citrus and serves it to you with kindness, then their love is for real. If your partner refuses, then this love is hollow and false, and you must now make a deal with a sea witch or reenter the dating pool. This deeply unscientific experiment, known colloquially as the orange peel theory/test/trend, is usually administered by heterosexual women on their male partners. And because of its simplicity and clarity, and social media’s penchant for anything that creates a reaction, the test has gone viral on TikTok.
Some videos of men peeling or not peeling oranges for their partners have millions of views. Millions!
Does separating citrus from its skin really indicate true love? What happened to building the Taj Mahal or, you know, buying some diamonds? Should women carry a mandarin around at all times just to be sure?
“An entire intimate relationship can’t be boiled down to what a partner does or doesn’t do with an orange,” says Alexandra Solomon, a psychologist and author who teaches at Northwestern University and specializes in relationships. As Solomon explains, one does not need to throw a romantic partner away like an orange rind because they did not peel a fruit in a pleasant way.
What TikTok’s ‘Ketchup Challenge’ Actually Says About Your Relationship
At first glance, the viral social media trend known as the “ketchup challenge” may sound like TikTok’s latest household hack, involving cleaning with the common condiment. And while cleaning is (kind of) part of it, the actual aim appears to be secretly testing a romantic partner.
Similar to the “orange peel theory,” the ketchup challenge is being used as a relationship test of sorts, in which one person (usually a woman) intentionally squirts some ketchup on the kitchen counter or a table, then asks their partner (usually a man) to clean it up. Naturally, the whole thing is captured on video and posted to TikTok or Instagram, where commenters are able to weigh in on the man’s ability—or lack thereof—to effectively clean a simple mess, rather than smearing it around, making it worse.
Clearly, this is about much more than ketchup, but out of all the relationship “challenges” floating around online, what about this one has struck a nerve? Two clinical psychologists specializing in relationships explain.
Oh, and by the way, Happy Valentines Day tomorrow. Don’t fall for these and if you get this from your girl, you’re better off dumping her rather than suffering a minute longer with a child who resorts to this low level of immaturity. She reads too much social media online, another red flag for you
It’s just another indication that social media ruins a lot of what it touches and the most vulnerable fall for it first.
Lane Kiffin and the University of Mississippi are reportedly hiring former Texas Longhorns personnel guy Billy Glasscock to be the team’s general manager, per ESPN’s Chris Low, and I honestly haven’t laughed this hard since Noah Knigga burst onto the college football scene.
Glasscock spent three years as a player personnel operator for Texas and previously served in similar roles at NC State and the University of Minnesota, per Low.
I’ll bet he had a hard time in grade school
An American Airlines plane was reportedly forced to return to the gate due to high wind — a “disgruntled” passenger’s smelly farts.
The big stink over the flatulent flyer unfolded while a recent flight from Phoenix, Arizona, to Austin, Texas, was still on the ground, according to a viral Reddit post.
“Before most people had boarded, I observed that this man was audibly disgruntled about something, maybe hungover, rough day idk, but as soon as he sat down he was grumbling about something under his breath, like ‘f—ing hell’ or something,” user lamgalatx wrote.
After the majority of passengers had boarded, the man reportedly exclaimed: “You thought that was rude? Well how about this smell” — and proceeded to pass gas.
“(I don’t know) what provoked that comment, and while kinda funny to overhear, it was uncalled for especially coming from a grown man on an airplane nonetheless,” the user wrote.
But the excessively farting passenger’s gross behavior didn’t end there.
I’m more of a crop duster when I have to unleash. I want everyone to share and then wonder which one of their neighbors let it fly.
What about me when I wake up and try to pee and my dick won’t cooperate. There’s your hardest wood, either that or a teenage boy looking at naked girls. You could cut diamonds with that wood.
Small talk is one of the more tiring things for introverts,. I avoid that situation at every chance. I love a deep conversation, but once someone starts in on how their day went in minute detail, I can’t help but turn into my own world and wish the conversation to be over as quickly as possible.
The other is ice breakers. Tell us something about yourself. Um, I don’t like to talk about myself, how’s that?
I’d hold it before I’d go just to not talk to not be here. This is at a Dr.’s office though. I see the door where you pass the piss sample in the cup
If I say call me, it’s because I’m betting you won’t. I’m tossing over the fence for you to make the move. I wouldn’t call either way. A cryptic text at best that doesn’t leave much of a window to respond.
I suppose everyone says this. I can’t change anything so I’m not going to try to. I’m just trying to enjoy these times. If I’d told myself what to do/not do, it would have turned out different. It might have changed the whole space/time continuum, and I don’t want to tempt God or the Sci Fi world.
Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery and the present is gone in an instant.
May we celebrate together, but alone and separately. Talk to you tomorrow because I’m not talking today.
It’s my favorite holiday after just suffering through Christmas and New Years. I can be alone today. Somewhere out there (although probably quiet) my fellow souls finally have some joy. It’s doubtful others will hear about it as we don’t boast, and other times you can’t get a word in edge wise for all the yapping.
I know and so do others.
PS, I’m not an INFJ.
This next one is me. I’m always in the back, next to the door so I can leave if I need to escape or panic
What does tomorrow mean to us? I thought about that today. It occurred to me that I don’t have as many tomorrows left. As endless as they used to be, I’d grab at a new handful of them. For now, I’m glad to have the next one. They grow fewer every day (sorry, I had to put that in)
Young
When I was young, I never thought about tomorrow. It always came. Some took forever like when I cared about my birthday, and others flew by.
When something has an endless supply, the value is less. It’s economics. I never considered that I’d be working, or retired, or would have kids, a mortgage or any responsibility. Live for today. It was all about today. I had no real yesterday’s to learn from yet.
If I did think about tomorrow, it was the kid dream about being an astronaut or pilot (what I thought about).
That was so long ago and the days between now and then are so numerous that it seems, like another life for me. I’ve lived many different lives within the one I chronologically am still in.
School
I recall sitting in the classroom watching the clock ticking away. Tick, tick, tick towards when I’d be able to go home. Time was endless on those days, and this was just between 2 and 2:15 in elementary school. The only good tomorrow started on Friday.
By the time I got to college, I was aware that life was right around the corner. Still, I enjoyed the day without a care. I ignored that inevitable tomorrow. When it came, it was in the form of an exam, or a girlfriend or another event in life. It was finite and had little consequence as to what my next day held. Still, I had no real cares and a lot of what tomorrow brought was a new experience.
Letdowns started to happen, but the ocean of tomorrows never crossed my mind as I did stupid stuff. I think I lost a few tomorrows by taking too many risks. Somehow I survived and was able to live to the next day, always another tomorrow. It was expected.
Responsibility Years
Life marched on and I grew up, bought a home and started a family. Tomorrows always came, but now they came with other’s problems also. It wasn’t the carefree days when your kid is sick or in trouble. I didn’t have time to think about tomorrow as today brought 10 tons of manure in a 5 ton truck.
So much is happening in your life you take tomorrow for granted or you are too busy to think about anything but today. If you do, those thoughts are invaded with things you have to get done or do for others.
I did notice one thing. I was starting to have a lot of yesterday’s. Some of them happy and some sad. There were lessons learned on both.
The ocean of tomorrows was still seemingly full as it (now) quickly drained away.
Deaths
The first reminders of fewer tomorrows happened here. Those you used to know have run out of tomorrows.
When you are young, say at a grandparents funeral, you can’t comprehend time not being endless for you. By middle age, you know it is closer, but most choose to ignore the reality of time slipping away.
Growing Older
Rarely, do tomorrows bring something new to me. Occasionally, I get a different version of something I’ve been through. I have many more yesterdays now than the number of tomorrows remaining.
The kids are grown. The mortgage is paid off. I no longer work. I’m among the oldest of my relatives now. It brought me to how many tomorrows there will be. Among those, how many will be good or bad? Will there be tough times?
I try to enjoy the days, even if the tasks are mundane. I have less patience for things that don’t seem meaningful to me. My meaningful scale has changed dramatically over life.
From time to time (becoming far too common), people I know run out of their tomorrows. As I sit at the funerals, life comes into perspective for me, at least the part on Earth.
Tomorrows aren’t endless. You only come with so many. Some have more than others and some enjoy them more than others.
Most of life’s struggles are over, except what happens when the tomorrow’s are running out.
Here’s hoping for another tomorrow, and that it doesn’t suck for me.
I’ve done this many times. Works like a charm. I even stay in longer so they think I’m getting them more presents, or am having a hard time wrapping gifts.
Everyone has that one friend. In my high school, his name was Rick. For some reason, his stomach did more than ours did and when he farted, it cleared the room. One time, we were outside waiting for a concert and he let one fly. Even in the open air the crowd parted it was so bad.
He became a stewardess after college. He told us about crop dusting the passengers near the bathroom so they would think that it came from someone dropping a deuce.
The best story is that he was visiting the Empire State Building. Right before he got off the express elevator, he let one fly that was God awful he said. A bunch of his male stewardess friends were just getting on, and they were stuck for 50 floors in his sewer air. It was so bad that one of them gave him a hard time a full 3 months later for trapping them in that stench. I’ve tried without success since the day he told me that story to duplicate this feat.
As for me, I’ll pick the empty car every time, even if it is just one floor. I admit I’ve closed the door before others could get in. Why do people get so awkward in a specific place?
As an introvert, every closed room with strangers is awkward. It gets compounded by a group of chatty girls (any age) or someone who wants to talk. That is the quiet zone, like the library where you should STFU until it’s time to get off.
Be a good citizen and kind to introverts. Don’t talk. Also, don’t fart in elevators.
It’s not that I don’t like others, just not all the time. Actually, I’d rather be alone most of the time. I don’t even miss others or think about missing them. Most of the time, they let me down or make the time spent together difficult. My appetite for that is over.
People drain me and consistently let me down. I’m sure I let them down when they think I should act like an extrovert, but then I don’t force myself on others.
Small talk is the most draining thing during the day. I know as soon as I get into it that it’s going to be a dreadful and useless conversation. Society expects you to go through this ritual, but that doesn’t make it meaningful or any less painful.
Give me meaningful and deep discussions and you have my attention. Otherwise, I’m happiest writing in my diary and reading.
Not caring what others think about you is a blessed relief. It’s the same when they don’t think of you also, like the remote parts of your family that are annoying.
This happened on 10/11.
The best man at my wedding George has the best sphincter control of anybody I’ve known. He drove across the United Stated (horizontally) and didn’t unload the whole way. He also made me paranoid about having to drop a deuce on a public toilet.
I’m a germaphobe to begin with. I don’t trust a hotel room, knowing what I’ve done in them and listening to other peoples stories also. When George was a motel manager, he’d wait until the maid cleaned the rooms and put a clean paper ribbon over the toilet seat. He took the master key and slid off the ribbon, took a shit and then put it back on.
So I’m in the gym today. It’s bad enough already as you are trying to work out and I live in a college town. That means the girls come in to work out in the fuck me shorts all decked out in nips and lips, prancing about. They show off the goods and preen in front of the mirror wearing a ponytail holder on their wrist. God forbid if one of the guys looks, then the whole gym creep thing comes out. I won’t stare because that is what they want. One girl came by this day in the see through lime green sherbet outfit 2 sizes too small and I had to do a double take to see if she was black or white. She’d spent so much time on the tanning bed she could have been either, but that makes her white. Please.
The opposite is also true. There are some that need to be at the gym because they need to lose weight and get in shape. I applaud them for doing something about it, but I am trying not to look at them either. It’s because they are trying to wear the same thing the hot girls wear and it’s not working for covering that much mass. I looked up and almost had my face in a cottage cheese barrel.
It used to be that the gym was just guys in sweat clothes would be there. Then, Jane Fonda let in all the girls and taught them take more and more off. At first,the A/C would make it nippy, but now they wearing body paint skin suits that don’t cover a thing. You know by looking whether you are ordering a #3 roast beef combo or a peach fuzz smoothy without trying. They then proceed to push their cookie up in the air like they were doing upside down doggie and we have to act like we don’t notice. They entice you to look and then get mad if you do.
Anyway, why I wrote this.
I was doing legs today. I work out in the afternoon when the traffic is light so you don’t have to wait for a machine you want to use. I do all my sports page reading business first thing in the morning so it never crossed my mind that I’d have to take a dump. It never happens past mid-morning. I felt a rumbling in my stomach and thought it couldn’t be. I was hoping for a fart and it would pass.
So I’m listening to music during hamstring curls thinking that I could move around some air and the crisis would pass. Wouldn’t you know that the song that played was Should I stay or should I go by the Clash.
I’m in a complete dilemma now as I’d just gotten there and didn’t want to leave, but the feeling wouldn’t go away. I let it go one too many leg curls until I knew I was in trouble.
Having to go on a public toilet is as much a torture thought for me as dropping the soap in the shower in jail. I didn’t have time to be able leave to find the most expensive store nearby as they usually have the cleanest bathrooms according to George.
I realized it was going to happen and I couldn’t stop it. The train was leaving the station. I grabbed the disinfecting wipes for the gym equipment and made my way to the locker room. I’m in there 4 times a week and every time I see legs in the stall with some guy laying rope. I think how disgusting that is using a public can. A bunch of sweaty MF all shitting on the same toilet. I don’t know how girls do it.
I usually go for the cripple stool as is it is less used than the regular stall. It was out of order, so I have to go on one that has been destroyed since midnight as this is a 24 hour gym.
Well, I scrubbed down the seat, then papered it like the second coming of the Mummy and all hell broke loose. You’d think I’d taken the colonoscopy medicine.
I don’t even like going on a can that others use at home and have my own bathroom I call home base. It has a bidet built in so that if I don’t get a clean break, I can get the old Japanese wash and blow dry from my seat.
My fear at the gym was that I’d have to use the whisper thin paper that doubles as a cheese grader that this was going to happen.
I didn’t even run out of toilet paper during Covid because I use the bidet seat so my bung hole has gone back to virginity. TP wiping is something I don’t do anymore.
There was someone in the bathrooms while this was going on, but I didn’t care as your rarely see the same people. It turned out to be Fred the maintenance man. Fred is there every time I’m at the gym. He is kind of like a rain man about cleaning and walked in as soon as I walked out. It was a WWIII destruction zone and I’m going to see Fred again the next time I’m there. I’ll bet he wishes he wasn’t there.
It was a terrible experience, having to open the Bombay doors somewhere other than on home base. I came home and showered, but felt violated that I had to sacrifice my standards because my stomach wouldn’t give me fair warning before I left.
Everyone thinks they look sexy. My daughter’s friend went as a Unicorn, but it looked like she had a dick on her forehead.
Then there is this:
My mom told me I had to stick with my family and put up with gatherings because they are blood. She was right on most things in life, but not this one.
I look at them like I look at most people. If we were friends or wanted to see each other, we’d get together. Now, it’s just weddings and funerals, and I avoid those if possible. I missed the last one that made me the patriarch of both sides of the family now. That’s not a burden I relish or will give any attention too.
Besides avoiding both sides of my family whenever possible, my wife’s family doesn’t live in my country, so I have it easy there. They sit around and trash the US to feel morally superior so I don’t want to be a part of that.
Best of all, I stopped drinking a while back. Most of them drink a lot when they are together, so I don’t get invited to almost everything. I think I make them feel uncomfortable. They are happier to be around people who drink a lot without feeling guilty. I don’t get invited and it’s one of life’s blessings.
I treat others like they treat me. Fortunately, most of them don’t want to talk and I keep my head as low as possible so I don’t get in their line of fire.
Still, leaving is always my favorite part of getting together, family or otherwise.
I was listening to Steely Dan play My Old School, one of my theme songs. Click on it, it’s a great song.
I realized I went to school to grow up in life, not really to learn. I went to classes and did did stuff, but it was just a step in life I had to take first. My real education was when I got out and started in life. School was just learning how to learn, mostly what not to do. Life is a big picture that I saw. I knew I had to get through this time and had a need to have my success being in life, not following the crowd in my teens. I watched the cliques and instinctively knew I didn’t want to be held hostage by them. Even then, I just knew I was going to be a bigger success and do much more than any of them. Other than a few sports stars and a doctor here and there, it came true. It’s not really important to me as I expected it. It’s because I didn’t pin my identity to that time of my life.
Most of all, I didn’t get stuck in my hometown and got away from those who stayed in the mud pit of mediocrity.
I know some people never leave college and re-live school every Friday night or Saturday during football season, but I am fortunate to have Mauerbauertraurigheit. I never wanted to be a part of what they were. Maybe it was just the introvert in me coming out, but I moved on and the memories weren’t strong enough to make me long for that, ever.
I went to school with some people from kindergarten through the end of college, yet I never think of them as friends. Just going to the same school isn’t the basis for a relationship. I never wanted to be in their clubs or fraternity’s, even when I had the chance. They weren’t the type of people I wanted to be a part of. At a college party one time I told Brad Hurd, who I knew since kindergarten that my best life decision until then was not pledging his fraternity. It was just the same elementary, middle school and high school people that I instinctively knew weren’t going to be significant, or my friends.
I also remember college graduation. I thought to myself, I may never step foot back on this campus and 43 years later, I never have. I’d had enough of college life and wanted to grow up and experience new and different things. People I knew still get together and pretend they are still there, but I can’t bring myself to do it. It was a chapter in my life that has closed. Life expanded so much for me after I got out that I feel no connection with the people anymore.
I still have friends from that time, but it had nothing to do with school. We are friends because of our relationship, mutual interests and experiences in life.
So, like the song, I’m never going back to my old school. I’ve passed up the 10th, 20th, 25th, 30th and 40th high school reunions so far, and have no plans to ever do it again.
I always thought that my life was going to happen after I left school, and it did. Those I went to school with act like they never left. Their pinnacle in life was either high school or college. They are like Al Bundy, high school football star, but loser in life. They relive the past at a time we were juveniles. I saw much more than that. Being a part of it wasn’t something I ever wanted to do.
On LinkedIn, I don’t even list my university. Instead I use Faber College, Knowledge is good.
Occasionally, I hear about someone from that time. Almost to a person, they didn’t amount to not much past that time of life. I hope they enjoyed their moment in the limelight, but it’s too bad that it came so early in life. When I see the pictures, they faded into old looking people who fell out of shape or didn’t realize their dreams. It’s sad. I wish they could have seen the big picture that what seems important to teenagers is not.
When I think about why, it was the people that I wanted away from, not the school. I continue to have highlights in life, rather than re-live an immature time of my life.
I’m never going back, to my old…..school, because I grew up to so much more.
Well blow me down mateys, it be that time of year again! This proud tradition started 27 years ago. Don’t be a scurvy dog and forget to talk like a pirate, all day long! In thewords of “Steve the Pirate” from the movie “Dodgeball: A True Underdog Story” – “gar”.
Give them some time alone to get bored, and they come up with this. I was checking out of the Garden shop at Lowes, and found this gem. I think they put the cardboard box on it to shelter it from sun/rain, but someone had too much time on their hands.
Look below this post if you want to see part one, and lower your sense of humor down to mine.
I wouldn’t be able to hold a straight face in school.
I remember when conjugating the verb Fahren (to drive/go) in German class. The plural you form is fahrt. We giggled the whole time. I bet Miss Phillips put that day off as long as she could.
I hate this.
I’m not able to process the attention that others force on you. To me, it’s just another day and I wish others would treat it that way. I want to crawl in a hole and not come out until it is over.
When I was a waiter, we’d sing the song to the birthday person. Almost always, a drunk table nearby would want it and would ask for us to sing it to them. One time, a party was so belligerent about it, instead of Happy Birthday dear (name), we sang eat a big one you asshole, HBTY.
Back to the point. I never understood why it was such a big deal. I didn’t know it was OK to hate your birthday until I talked to other introverts. It was painful for years. When I found out you didn’t have to suffer through this, I got my family to swear they’d never put me through the fake festivities again.
I think parents are so overboard on their children’s birthdays that they set this false expectation that it’s a real holiday. It was painful for me and I never knew how to act. The kids come to count on it like it is going to make them happier because they got stuff.
The extroverts in my family expect the attention, but it’s difficult for me to sit through that also. I want that to be over as much as when it happens to me.
In my life, charade has taken over any holiday. People get worked up and claim they are happy because of a day that is supposed to be celebrated. I’ve grown to loathe big family gatherings and the month long Christmas ordeal. I see how unhappy they can be. It’s because people set themselves up for false expectations that some holiday or gathering is supposed to make them feel better. Take away their alcohol and it’s a whole different thing.
I can’t buy that nonsense as there are other days in the year that make me happier, but it is organic rather than manufactured. I can even take (a small amount) some celebrations if spontaneous and real.
At this end of my life, I don’t like having another birthday so fast. It just reminds me that that I’ll be crossing the checkered flag in life soon.
If you read how it’s harder to be a man than you thought (why trans men can’t pull it off), you know that life is harder for guys than we let on.
Hell, half the pressure is stuff we put on ourselves, but then so is half of the enjoyment of pulling it off.
(From the link above)
Men are in competition with each other. Men vie to express dominance, to establish their place in the pecking order.
If a man steps out of line, and assumes a place in the pecking order that is not agreed upon – this place being based upon established social agreements that no one can see, nor express in words – he is summarily dismissed.
If he still believes the territory, he has assumed, is rightfully his, he will endure all manner of insults and attacks, up to, and including, physical attacks
This begins for boys some time just after the toddler stage, and intensifies through the teen years, and early adulthood.
Men find this competition exhilarating, though it is also challenging, and often ends in shocking defeats.
WE MAKE UP GAMES TO COMPETE, EVEN WITH OURSELVES.
See the meme above. One of the unwritten rules for guys is you have to (at least try) to get all the shopping bags in one trip.
Next, we can’t just throw away a wad of paper if there is a hoop to make. Back up and see how far you can be before you miss. Add difficulty by changing hands or twice in a row. Hell, I toss ice cubes that fell on the floor behind my back into the sink. Putting them there would be too easy, or conversely not enough of a challenge.
I told my son this one. You have to open the garage door as far as possible when driving up. You need to know the range in case of (imagined) attack, or whatever. Never can you wait in the driveway while the door is opening.
You have to park in the spot first time. To add difficulty, back in. The ultimate challenge is parallel parking uphill on the wrong side of the street while driving stick shift with people in your car to judge you. It has to be done the first try. (I’ve done it).
Then there are the bathroom rules.
Like this.
And of course which one to use.
And this.
Here are 30 guy rules, but I didn’t know about the fart window in the public restroom.
As soon as I saw the dog, I went to my childhood and Merrie Melodies. I know most of them and the Loonie Tunes
And here is Frisky barking at Claude
What’s funny is most people haven’t noticed.
The biggest effect on me is that Jeopardy is in re-runs, but I can live with that.
They’ll do the usual dance about pay and resolve it somehow, but in the meantime we won’t be subjected to the woke crap like what Disney has been putting out recently.
It amuses me that the Sound of Freedom is doing well, despite no support from the media or Hollywood. They don’t want decent or honest films going out.
We’ll also have a start up period where nothing is getting made as they have to start writing again and re-opening the movie sets. Then the woke crap will be back on the screens.
I don’t bother with that anymore and barely watch much, only what I can stomach.
Go outside and enjoy the day. Actually do things rather than sit in front of the screen. It’s a lost art. There was nothing on for kids when I was young. We entertained ourselves, played sports or made up stuff to do.
I was watching a video of girls talking about would they date an incel (involuntary celibate guy). They said get your head out of the computer if you want your dick wet. Otherwise they didn’t want anything to do with them.
Maybe the writers will stay on strike so everyone wins.
I’ve been driving between states and have noticed some trends.
Mostly, people are childish in their cars. They might be decent people, but as soon as they get behind the wheel, they revert to the playground.
It’s like they think they own the road.
Here is what I noticed.
I was merging onto a highway in a lane that had to go from two to one. I generally will let at least one car in and absolutely let a truck in to be decent. It used to be that way in the South. Yesterday, a Ford Escort sped up to try and not let me in. Little children are spiteful and try to have all the toys just to not let you have one.
I’ve written about how to merge in traffic so don’t mess with me. I also drive a truck. When I saw she was trying to be an asshole, I just kept merging and got in easily, but this is just where it started. She never had a chance as I just kept coming. The lane was ending and I didn’t have a choice. Of course I got in, but give me a break. Is it too much to ask to be nice?
I’ve learned that holding your speed and lane is generally just as fast as lane jumping. A few miles later, there were lane darters jumping across two lanes at a time on both sides just to get a few cars ahead. It’s just like children cutting in line just to be ahead of you, even if just by a place or two.
The problems with this are that it screws up traffic and caused a lot of people to hit the brakes. That is a traffic killer every time. I’ll give the Europeans this one. They know how to pass. It’s always on the left and if they are not fast, they drive in the right lanes.
The next childish behavior was people who don’t think the rules belong to them. The speed limit at the time was 70 and I get 75 MPH, but I was getting passed by people going at least 90. I have a brother in law that does this and I think that he’s a dick for being this impatient.
It’s proven that your probability of a crash or death goes up exponentially with speed above the limit.
I settled back to let them get away from me, half expecting them to be ticketed ahead or in a crash. I made good time and got to where I was going safely. I was glad to be done with it.
I could go on, but I’m sure everyone sees what I do and are either like me or like a child.
Count on the Ivy League and Harvard especially to ruin it for everyone. It’s like clockwork to screw things up for people. Not only were they proven by the SCOTUS of discrimination and being racists, apparently they are perverts.
Well, they were up front about what the entertainment was going to entail. I bet Shirley is a lot of fun
It’s hard to imagine that people can’t figure out that males and females are different. They are supposed to be. Just because you don’t like yourself, it doesn’t mean that it’s going to make your life any better by trying to be something you are not. If you can’t accept yourself as who you are, don’t think we’re going to accept the fake version of you.
We’ve already found out that men don’t make good women. They can kick ass in girls sports, but can’t sell beer very well as girls. They’ll never be able to have a baby either, kind of the big male/female differentiator.
I see Ryan Mulvanney like all real men do. He was the pussy in school who got his ass kicked. After the butt light commercial, a lot of guys would administer that just out of duty to other men. Instead of bucking up and trying harder, he decided to try and be a girl and was marketing poison.
HERE IS THE REAL STORY, WHY A GIRL CAN’T BE A GUY
Now, we have this girl that is crying because she found out that men are competitive, loners and don’t need other men to cry with in the bathroom.
So speaking of pussies, here is the girl who has pretended to be a guy, crying because she can’t share her feelings with other guys in the bathroom. I’ve got a clue for you girl, guys don’t share their feelings. We never give away any competitive advantage.
From Pastorius who sums up what it is to be a guy
Men are in competition with each other. Men vie to express dominance, to establish their place in the pecking order.
If a man steps out of line, and assumes a place in the pecking order that is not agreed upon – this place being based upon established social agreements that no one can see, nor express in words – he is summarily dismissed.
If he still believes the territory, he has assumed, is rightfully his, he will endure all manner of insults and attacks, up to, and including, physical attacks
This begins for boys some time just after the toddler stage, and intensifies throug the teen years, and early adulthood.
Men find this competition exhilarating, though it is also challenging, and often ends in shocking defeats.
We pick ourselves up, nurse our wounds, and go back to do battle on this invisible turf.
This is a fact of manhood that a woman can not know, because, as I said, this pecking order is based upon ESTABLISHED social agreements that no one can see, nor express in words.
I would imagine this must be a shocking fact of life for a Trans “man”, to find that he has no place, because he never fought for it, and is completely unaware of the competition which is raging all around him.
It must be profoundly disorienting.
And it is because these Trans “men” have never fought for their territory – and enter into this competition completely unaware, blind to that which is clear as day to man = that they can never be more than a cheap imitation of man; a mockery of a notion of manhood, perceived from the outside.
Here’s our life, fighting for everything and every inch of ground we gain in life.
You may change your appearance, but you can’t change your gender or ever know what the other gender is like. It’s why men don’t have a clue what girls are thinking. At some point in all of our lives, we give up trying and just live our life. It’s much better that way.
Social media, where being fake about who you are for a hit on the like button, by people who probably don’t really like it. Adults acting like children and children learning to lie.
Stolen from Woosterman.
Update: Michelle Obama is peddling sugary drinks that don’t meet the nutrition standards she advocated as first lady, She’s doing it for money, greedy person.
The bill’s summary claims it would end “school lunch shaming” and “provides an additional incentive for local food procurement.”
But the 47-page bill doesn’t explain how the government would pay for the program. How much does the program cost? How will the government offset the payments?
Oh, wait. These people think money grows on trees.
The 44th first lady (hard to type those words about an America hater) tried this as her signature program. It was a failure as the kids hated the meals so much that they wouldn’t eat the swill. A lot of “food” got thrown away. $500 million down the drain and it ended silently and thankfully.
Yet here we go again. Trying to force their opinions on others for conformity.
I had a friend who ate an oatmeal creme cookie and a lemonade from the snack machine. His dad was a university professor so they weren’t poor. He was saving up his money. He bought a Porsche before anyone in the class of 1100 that we graduated in.
I ate PB&J and loved it. The school meals were ok, but almost no one wanted or could eat them.
Keep wasting your money parents by sending your kids there. Instead of being taught science, they can’t even be taught which bathroom to use.
No way the guy that named the streets wasn’t a Trekkie. There are days I wish I had his job.
stolen from Woosterman.
This happens to me like everyone else. When in school, I used to get a whole pack of these and I never once remember making it to the end.
Just try and find a pen when you have to take a message on the phone and almost 100% of the time it won’t write.
Another long lost post.
Murphy’s mothers laws
This article was written by Sheila Moss, from Humor Columnist.Com and copied with her permission.
Copyright 2001 Sheila Moss
I lost a year and a half of posts when I switched from blogger to WordPress. I’ll post some of the stuff mostly to get it on record.
December 28th, 2006 by jsimonds
“Stewardesses” is the longest word typed with only the left hand and “lollipop” with your right. (Bet you tried this out mentally, didn’t you?)
No word in the English language rhymes with month, orange, silver, or purple.
“Dreamt” is the only English word that ends in the letters “mt”. (Are you doubting this?)
Our eyes are always the same size from birth, but our nose and ears never stop growing.
The sentence: “The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog” uses every letter of the alphabet. (Now, you KNOW you’re going to try this out for accuracy, right?)
The words ‘racecar,’ ‘kayak’ and ‘level’ are the same whether they are read left to right or right to left (palindromes).(Yep, I knew you were going to “do” this one.)
There are only four words in the English language which end in “dous”: tremendous, horrendous, stupendous, and hazardous. (You’re not doubting this, are you?)
There are two words in the English language that have all five vowels in order: “abstemious” and “facetious.”(Yes, admit it, you are going to say . a e i o u)
TYPEWRITER is the longest word that can be made using the letters only on one row of the keyboard.(All you typists are going to test this out)
A cat has 32 muscles in each ear.
A “jiffy” is an actual unit of time for 1/100th of a second.
A shark is the only fish that can blink with both eyes.
A snail can sleep for three years.(I know some people that could do this too.)
Almonds are a member of the peach family.
An ostrich’s eye is bigger than its brain.
Babies are born without kneecaps They don’t appear until the child reaches 2 to 6 years of age.
February 1865 is the only month in recorded history not to have a full moon
In the last 4,000 years, no new animals have been domesticated.
If the population of China walked past you, 8 abreast, the line would never end because of the rate of reproduction.
Leonardo Da Vinci invented the scissors.
Peanuts are one of the ingredients of dynamite!
Rubber bands last longer when refrigerated.
The average person’s left hand does 56% of the typing.
The cruise liner, QE2, moves only six inches for each gallon of diesel that it burns.
The microwave was invented after a researcher walked by a radar tube and a chocolate bar melted in his pocket.(Good thing he did that)
The winter of 1932 was so cold that Niagara Falls froze completely solid.
There are more chickens than people in the world.
Winston Churchill was born in a ladies’ room during a dance.
Women blink nearly twice as much as men.
Now you know everything you need to know.
General Motors has announced the end of production for the sixth-generation Chevrolet Camaro for the 2024 model year. Another American muscle icon bites the dust — but Chevy says this isn’t the end of the road for the vehicle as we know it; we just have no idea what’s coming next. The final car will roll off the production line at the Lansing Grand River Assembly Plant in January of next year.
In the manufacturer battle, I never once pulled for a Camaro in Trans-Am, NASCAR, IMSA or any other series. I’d never buy one either. It doesn’t lower my respect for it as a good car, except for the gas war years when all cars got neutered.
I’ve followed them since 1968 because of Roger Penske and Mark Donohue. Those pony car days made for great auto’s and brand marketing. This includes the Mach 1 which I think is going away also.
One of my friends in college had the bad ass Z-28, sort of like this one.
He’s lucky he didn’t get killed on the run from Orlando to Haines City at over 100 MPH.
Not being a GM fan doesn’t mean I don’t respect it as a good car.
It’s a shame for GM to kill off such an iconic brand. Not one of the major manufacturer’s are making money on EV’s (other than Tesla) and they keep cutting their own throats with moves like this.
I’d never buy one, but you need good competitors to have a race. Chevy just took that away.
What kills me is that people are paying so much for this kind of crap going on. It used to be valuable to get the sheepskin. It meant you actually learned something. Now? Read on. It pays to be a victim though. You get attention and entry.
It’s ruining the top colleges though
Here’s the Ugly Truth About Why Middle Class Kids Aren’t Getting Into Harvardhttps://www.revolver.news/2023/03/the-ugly-truth-about-why-middle-class-kids-not-getting-into-harvard/
It’s springtime, which means its college admissions season. And, for thousands of American families cursed to bear the wrong skin color, this means a rude encounter with the new American regime’s priorities.
On Feb. 23, Twitter anon Peachy Keenan relayed the story of a friend’s niece, and her faceplant during last year’s admissions cycle.
Go read the rest at the link, but if you aren’t in the hierarchy of victimhood, you ain’t gettin’ in. Most hurt – Asians and whites.
Next…
As affirmative action likely comes to an end later this SCOTUS term, higher ed will not give up its obsession with racial preferences, it’ll just eliminate the key type of evidence relied upon by the Asian students in the Harvard case: Standardized test scores.
Yep, the Asians take a hit because the school would be mostly that group, as they are the most qualified to go. But no, you are not the right victim.
Next…
LGBTQ Students Changing College Choices Based on Supposedly ‘Anti-Gay’ State Policies
But after his native Florida adopted legislation restricting LGBTQ rights, Nobles, who is gay, is planning to find a similar environment in a different political climate. The 19-year-old says he wouldn’t have to worry as much about discrimination or even physical assault in California.
“I came to reality and realized that I might actually have to involve those things into where I go, because you never know where I might be going,” Cody said, expressing concern about the possibility of having to attend school in “a place that has a record of hate crimes or a very old-fashioned point of view when it comes to gender.”
“For me personally, I just naturally assumed I was going to college down here,” he said. “But if things got worse, then I suppose I would have no choice.”
More victimhood. I haven’t read about physical assaults on that group recently, but don’t confuse the narrative with facts.
MIT Anti-Free Speech Hate Hoax
Hate hoaxes are good for more than garnering the sympathy of fools. They can also be used to shut down free speech, as with flyers blaspheming against sacred sexual deviants that were found on the campus of Massachusetts Institute of Technology:
The incident came in the wake of a two-month-old MIT faculty resolution that defends freedom of speech and expression — even speech some find “offensive or injurious.”
Even some college professors are getting fed up with the climate of fear that prevents the free exchange of ideas.
A report released in mid-January by the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression … found that “Large portions of MIT faculty and students are afraid to express their views in various academic settings. Faculty and students are at least as afraid of each other as they are of the administration.”
University Hosts Sex Week Featuring BDSM Workshop, Grownup ‘Playtime’ And Sex Toys
I’m not even going to post an excerpt and of course it is in Portland
Oh good. The Frankfurt School of Communism will now dumb down their student population even more.
I could go on and on, but I think you get the drift. I would like to hear of a University that promotes fairness based on meritocracy. Those would be the kids I’d hire.
Oh, and woke sucks again. It ruins everything it touches
Well, not yet. I wish this was the real story instead of what I wake up and read in the news.
I also wish Star Trek hadn’t gone woke. It ruined Star Wars, Marvel and many other franchises that used to be fun to watch.
Live long and prosper.
It was a good TV show when I was a kid. My Mom dreaded that I watched such nonsense and that it would certainly ruin me. I didn’t get any smarter by watching the show. It provided me with clean entertainment as compared to the woke TV the kids get now.
There were some things that didn’t make sense.
The professor could charge batteries for their radio by stirring coconuts, but couldn’t fix the Minnow?
Finally, my answer. It was Ginger, My how things have changed…
She’s the only one of the cast left
Mine would have wrinkles drawn on them. If it were 3D, they would move on their own for no reason.
The biggest problem I have in my arguments is timing. I get out talked by people who tend to be wrong. Only later does the truth come out or I can express myself, but no one (except me) cares by then.
Like most introverts, I think things through, throw out the things that are wrong, then come up with a salient and correct argument. All of this is well after the discussion took place.
LESSONS LEARNED
While being pressured to get the jab during Covid, I knew it was wrong and listened to everyone regurgitating the media and government lies (paid for by the Big Pharma companies). Since I was an island, it was everyone against me. There was nothing I could say that anyone would listen to other than my black friends. They remembered Tuskegee like I did.
The lesson? Stop trying to be right, learn patience for the facts to come out. They are coming out now.
This would have also helped me a lot earlier in life if I’d have known. I didn’t understand that I was an introvert though and thought I could go toe to toe with extrovert talkers not afraid to be wrong. I lost a debate to an imbecile in 8th grade when I clearly had the facts. He had the class popularity and the class went with him as he made up stuff.
It was similar in politics. The 2016 election won me a $100 bet, not that anyone cared. The 45th President continues to be right, so they just throw dirty underwear against the wall until something sticks. He is the comeback champion in rhetoric though so I stopped talking about that also. I was an island politically also. I lost every discussion on that one also even though my facts were proven right over time.
I found out that a lot of people don’t have a sense of history or really understand anything other than reading and repeating talking points they are told to think. Social media is making idiots out of the next generations. Knowing how to find information is not the same thing as understanding why things are the way they are.
I was already recognizing the pattern of facts that led to the truth, just not when I wanted it. I’d never make it as a lawyer or politician.
Maybe that’s why I write about this. It gets my thoughts (mostly cogently) in order and documents my position. It’s all I have sometimes. Since the internet is forever, here you go in the future if you read this.
Very rarely in my life do I have the proper comeback. It’s not satisfying when I do compared to the frustration of not being drop quick witted and precise information when needed.
So, I just have decided to let some stuff pass. It gets me out of talking to the under educated anyway.
The other lesson?
― Mark Twain
From my childhood, being a Looney Tunes aficionado. The episode is called Bully for Bugs. Classic line, Stop steaming up my tail and of course, you know this means war.
I bet she’d want to write her name in the snow and on the wall too.
As for me, I can’t get them to fit as the hole is too small, but I imagine I could fit a dozen or so (only if I smashed them flat together)
This is how it is being a man. It’s much more than donuts. We hang towels also.
And this is how we do it, and stuff all guys know.
but first, you have to know the guy rules we knew when we were born
Another childhood book, like revenge of the tiger, but Claude Balls; Yellow River by I P Freely….there are hundreds of them
Hat tip to wirecutter.
Oh yes, I could say it with a straight face, depending on the other person. I just texted my friend George that there were a lot of balls to juggle, instead balls in the air.
I still call them wiener’s if there is a chance the other person will feel uncomfortable.
Hat tip to wirecutter on this one. It was too good to not share.
I love these stories. I worked with geniuses who created technology that we take for granted (and carry around or wear). They were great to talk to as they spoke with different words on how things are related and put together. They explained things on another plane of knowledge that required me to expand my thinking to deal with them.
It also confirms how different we are. I have relatives through marriage in Denmark who believe in Jante’s Law to bash American’s. This kind of flies in the face of what they believe, but then they were triple jabbed so they aren’t that smart.
Story begins here:
A toddler has become one of the youngest people ever to become a member of MENSA, after he taught himself to read at the age of two.
Now four years old, Teddy Hobbs, began reading during the coronavirus lockdown.
Staggeringly, when he was only 26 months old, he was able to read a book fluently to his parents, Beth and Will.
After that, the youngster progressed to learning how to count up to 100 in Mandarin, Somerset Live reports.
His 31-year-old mum Beth said: “He has always been interested in books so we made sure he had plenty around.
“But, during the lockdown, he started to take a real interest, and by the age of 26 months, he had taught himself to read.
Teddy Hobbs, now four, managed to gain entry to the exclusive organisation for the intellectual ‘elite’ aged just three years and nine months last year (
Image: Beth Hobbs / SWNS)
“He then moved onto numbers and was learning times tables. We got him a tablet the following Christmas for him to play games on. But instead, he taught himself to count up to 100 in mandarin.”
The child prodigy can already count to 100 in six non-native languages, including Mandarin, Welsh, French, Spanish and German.
Beth and Will were confused by his unheard of talents whilst still a toddler, and so got in touch with health visitors to ask them to assess Teddy.
“With him looking forward to starting school, we wanted to have some sort of assessment so we knew the level of skills he was going to start school with.” said Beth.
The child prodigy from Portishead, Bristol, can already count to 100 in six non-native languages, including Mandarin, Welsh, French, Spanish and German (
Image: Beth Hobbs / SWNS)
“Teddy was our first child and as he was conceived via IVF, we have nothing to compare him with.”
Continuing to search for support for their son, the couple approached MENSA for guidance.
Teddy, then aged three years and seven months old, had to undergo an hour long online assessment with experts.
“I was worried about him being able to sit in front of a laptop for an hour, but he absolutely loved it.“ said Beth.
Experts then revealed that Teddy sat in the 99.5 percentile for IQ.
Teddy, who starts school in September, received a certificate confirming his membership of MENSA (
Image: Beth Hobbs / SWNS)
Experts then revealed that Teddy sat in the 99.5 percentile for IQ (
Image: Beth Hobbs
Delusions of Adequacy 