Friday Ephemera (706)
I always start my day this way. || I laughed and I’m not sorry. || The legend of Bum Farto. || “These holes are inhabited.” || He wants to teach you a lesson, repeatedly, with an airhorn. || 1940s IT. || Taking sides. || “Too much cheese” finally achieved. || Tourist attraction of note. || The Women of the Pussy Cat Club, 1970. || Liveliness in Wakefield. || Warfare, 1963. || Neighbours and renovations, 1981. || She paid for an affirming penis and is not entirely satisfied. (NSFW) || The progressive retail experience, parts 528, 529, 530, 531 and 532. || Pouring. || The thrill of salad. || He’s doing it for the little kiddies, you understand. || Mail theft. || The thrill of fluff. || Somewhat fluff-related. || Further to this from last week, question asked. || Feel your age. || And finally, it fits in his hand.
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Ephemera for Friday.
He needs to learn a lesson.
Breaking news from New Guinea: Not a high trust society.
When looting, penis sheaths must be an encumbrance. None to be seen.
I’d be gluing their hands to the road.
Entitlement isn’t a new thing.
Re: the ‘affirming’ appendage – do you think some doctors are counting on their patients’ disconnect from reality to protect them from lawsuits?
Cattails must really, really want to reproduce.
Ouch.
Head tilting proves womanhood!
Morning, all.
Yes, it does rather sting.
“The thrill of fluff.“
Oooh, that’s hypnotic!
The suggestion that there’s a vast and lucrative industry premised on exploiting the mentally ill is, of course, unsettling. But not, I think, unfounded.
And by mentally ill, I mean not only the kinds of people who would submit to such mutilation and then timidly ask if the results are normal. I also mean the kinds of people who see the damage done and then make excuses for those who did it, while denouncing and banning anyone who suggests that the procedure may not prove quite as affirming as previously advertised. As happened in the Reddit thread linked above, and in countless others.
Motorist of note.
His dad better have bought him that toy. 🙂
Indeed. There’s the moment, about 12 seconds in, when it looks like the little boy has conceded defeat and is putting the toy back on the shelf, when in fact he’s merely refining his strategy.
Should I be relieved or disappointed?
Well, if I hadn’t said beforehand what it’s supposed to be, I suspect you’d have difficulty telling what it is.
Hmmm. Intrigued then.
Missing from Ephemera.
Vigilantes doing God’s work on Narcos in Ecuador.
Problematic? Of course.
It’s worth noting the author’s statement that the surgical team responsible “refuse to fix” their handiwork. Likewise, the number of comments by other forum regulars acknowledging how common such baroque horrors are, along with any number of other, equally charmless complications. It seems such sights are par for the course, and a commonplace topic of discussion.
It’s also worth noting that even a suggestion that the procedure was suboptimal and possibly a mistake, something one might regret, is regarded by the forum moderator as “discrimination,” wickedness, and a basis for deletion and banning. This sentiment is shared by almost all of the forum contributors.
Apparently, they will compare their horror stories and accounts of suffering and misery, extending over years, often in gruesome detail, while simultaneously telling each other that everything is fine, and that no poor choices were made.
Not a basis for optimism, I’d say.
If my schoolboy French doesn’t fail me, the commune of Trôo in the Loir-et-Cher department translates as “Hole town, in the county of the Beloved Rat“.
How charming.
Also.
Coco Pops. With Ibuprofen.
I fear I may be allergic to cheese.
She paid for an affirming penis and is not entirely satisfied.
[ Peers over spectacles in judgemental way. ]
Why couldn’t the neighbor look like Barbara Good?
Is this yet another time you’ve almost died?
For those who missed it.
Not yet 🙂
I’m guessing that humble Marmite on toast is looking pretty good right now.
I did briefly consider cheese on toast, but I wasn’t planning to use three cubic metres of the stuff.
I may open a market stall. “Christmas Cheese“. While stocks last.
The difference between erotic and kinky: using a feather vs. the whole chicken.
.
I think you’re right:
My pocket dictionary translates “loir” as “dormouse” and “cher” as “beloved” or “costly”. Yay Larousse!
(Google Translate only yields “Dormouse and Cher”: Amazing that it could miss “cher” which is such a commonly used word, mon chere.)
Cue Frank Zappa’s “Why Does It Hurt When I Pee?”
Ha! Take THAT Madame de Sade (French teacher year 5) – who said I would never amount to anything.
Or some French words to that effect.
A life lesson for all the teens reading this blog:* I regret only studying one language, German, in school. That was what my high school guidance counselor recommended, saying that German was “the language of science”. But that has not been true for a long time. I could just as usefully learned French, for example. Or split my efforts and learned multiple languages. As it turned out, I regret not being at least moderately fluent in French and other Romance languages as that is where my adult interests went.
* I wonder about the demographics of David’s readers. We do seem to mostly be middle aged if not creaky.
Do help yourselves.
Pouring.
Given that the guy is a Red Bull pilot we can assume he knows his stuff – a properly executed barrel roll (as opposed to an aileron roll) is a +1G maneuver throughout so neither the plane, can, or liquid knows it is upside down or sideways.
#pedant, #spoilsport
Meanwhile, speaking of food deserts as we were, another in San Francisco (of course) which does not appear to have weave deserts.
In other locales the WEF frets, though other than being loaded into a boxcar at gunpoint, I am not sure what “involuntary migration” is.
*winces*
If the ferals didn’t keep robbing the place, stripping it bare, and generally exulting in their dysfunction, I suspect the owners of said establishment would be happy to keep selling things and trying to make a profit. But blaming the ferals is evidently frowned upon, practically taboo. And so, the dance goes on.
I was recently rewatching some episodes of DS9 and Voyager, so you can imagine how that chafes.
And the retooled Battlestar Galactica aired in 2004, three years before I started writing this blog. Which itself started almost 17 years ago.
17 chuffing years.
[ Rummages under bar for the good moisturiser. ]
If there was any Food Justice [TM] in the world, cheese wouldn’t give me heartburn. Or cold sweats. Or gout.
Well, to be fair, if you are a member of the WEF the ability of the populace to inform themselves probably is your #1 Risk. The other items on the list would count more as opportunities than risks really.
I’m assuming that “involuntary migration” is when Klaus Schwab repossess your country.
‘Disappointed’ doesn’t even come into the mix.
Just Stop Oil have a spiritual ancestor, I see.
I haven’t seen the video (and have no desire to either) – but just out of interest, was this procedure conducted in the patient’s home country or does it seem like they may have travelled further afield to get it?
Clicking through the author’s earlier posts, I believe the, er, affirmation was done in the Netherlands. I’m assuming that’s where she lives, though it’s not clear to me.
[ Added: ]
Pretty much every one one of her posts is about some new complication, some revolting development, and yet the author takes exception to any non-dysmorphic person noticing the same horrors and recoiling, or suggesting that her choices may not have been the optimal ones.
[ Bungs lasagne in oven, wafts smell of melting cheese towards Karl. ]