Friday Ephemera (769)
Hippo expresses displeasure. || For the hungry among you. || So how was your day? || It was, alas, a very long drive. || Logo outrage. || An athletic use of the buttocks. || Obstruction of note. || Today’s word is ambitious. || FBI artefacts. || “It seems like here in Portland there is this super-big need for spiritual care.” || Meet the Bin Men, 1976. || Artful bouncing. || The thrill of martial arts. || She feels that a lot of assumptions are being made about her. || Choices were made. || You may gasp when ready. || We have ignition. || Wanted woman. || What the hell are people doing? A planet-wide statistical extrapolation. || Towing is hard. || A noteworthy indifference. || Incoming. || Niche skills. || New speech rules update issued. || Luminous. || A little steep, I grant you, but on the upside it is organic.
To enable extra commenting options – including @username mentions, upvotes, and live notifications – scroll down to the black ‘Meta’ box at the very bottom of the page and click register. It’s free and quite painless.
And you can, should you wish, follow me on X.
This blog is kept afloat by the tip jar buttons below.
It’s marked as 7:52am. Which would be 11:52pm for me here in SoCal.
[ Basks in newfound dominion over time itself. ]
When my mother taught me to drive, the first place we went was a huge parking lot that was empty on the weekend (McDonnell-Douglas, IIRC) where I could learn firsthand about acceleration and braking without any fear of colliding with other innocent motorists. Or pedestrians. Or fire hydrants. The place didn’t even have lampposts.
I’m fairly sure I do not have the temperament to be a driving instructor.
Sheldon Cooper couldn’t even master the simulator. And to simulate airbags his friend hit him in the head with a pillow when he crashed yet again.
An excess of downwardsness.
Rapid unplanned disassembly. Watch those parts fly!
Teaching my daughter to drive, as she approached and then went through stop signs, and I quote: “stop…stop…STOP…STOP!!!”
“dad, don’t yell at me…”
Hmmm.
Beyond those on Twitter/X?
The British ruling class: Quislings.
Makes sense to me.
Illegal alien, no license, around 30mph over the speed limit, at night, “forgot to turn on headlights”, “sleep deprived”, drunk and on drugs.
“Not all car accidents are crimes”.
Convict the lawyer.
No, he’s a mad dictator who wants to surrender to Europe.
And let us not forget, Hitler outlined everything he intended to do in Mein Kampf.
A fire broke out at a data center on the 22nd, and things have been intermittently goofy ever since.
Delta is doing this. If you’re in the middle seat, and you need to get up to use the loo, how do you even do that?
re: relationship anarchy
Just call it what it is: sociopathy. The inability to form bonds with anyone for any reason. The rejection of all social norms and rules. Promiscuity without guilt.
Dicentra…Trying to find that article I ran across this which looks much more comfortable, though they say it would be an option for center section seats on a wide body. The designer is 6′ 2″ and designed this to accommodate taller passengers. Though again, the overhead compartment thing.
Wow, those lower seats are RIGHT IN THE FART ZONE.
Album title.
Uppercase “O”s always exceed the baseline and X-height a little. It’s a psycho-visual thing. If they didn’t, they’d look too small.
There’s no excuse for that “H”, though. Off to the stocks with them.
Would that be an assumption then? Maybe a generalization? Possibly, I dunno, somewhat… prejudicial?
I could’a been a contender. Never got the chance. Never got the breaks, man.
Here’s the cover art: