I think we know the solution then.

Be like pap paw

Powerful men protecting themselves with idiots has never once lead to an assassination. NEVER. not once. Nope no sir. Hasn’t happened

One of my call center buddies was in charge of receiving requests for freight transport and asking his NCO to approve them. His NCO say directly behind him. So he’d stare at a computer screen until a request came in, turn around, ask for approval which would be framed, then turn back around and click the approve button.

“you agreed to display ads on your vehicles. This vehicle is mine. You may not display ads in it.”

Honestly I’d have a lawyer on the phone in a heartbeat. I’d be surprised if someone hasn’t already started a lawsuit.

I umm… I don’t think I wanna go to the library anymore

When it’s actual news, I’ll hear about it regardless.

I’m not going to perseverate over every headline, I have a life to live. The media is actively trying to piss us off, they’ll skew and distort and all but fabricate to keep us angry and engaged.

I’m not doing it. I can’t recall a single time in my life that keeping up to date up to the hour has actually improved anything for me. Sitting around just knowing stuff is happening isn’t going to change my life for the better.

I live in a safe republican state and a leans Republican district. I could send a letter to my senator, call my representative, spend hours of my time just worried about something, and still, they’ll vote how the party wants them to. Being informed and doing the things I’m supposed to do won’t change anything.

Im starting to understand John Coffey.

¿Donde esta la biblioteca?

Yeah. Like make some of the best films in the last 40 years. DAMN YOU COCAINE

Isn’t there an “actually infuriating” community somewhere? Or maybe a “sounds like this will be used as evidence in the divorce but ok” type thing?

Prove it.

The first writings we have are accounts, receipts, and famously, a complaint about the quality of copper. The first named person in recorded history appears on a tablet accounting for a number of slaves.

Records were literally invented to document trades.

Basically oscillating the tool up and down while rotating the workpiece back and forth, while spinning the tool very, very slowly.

That’s from the cheese frying in it’s own fat while it cooks and it’s delicious

Try instead asking innocent probing questions that lead them to question their world view. They’ll never agree with you if they feel like they’re under attack, but if you seem curious and interested, and ask difficult questions they could come around over time.

Or you know, fuck em they made their bed. Either way.

Or they sold them to Walmart.

This is not the first time produce has been stolen and sold for consumption to regular distributors. It used to be quite common. Crime families have been built on that practice.

Laughs in G code S1 g54 x0y0 g0 g90. F50 M3; z-.5 a45 z0 a0 z-.5 a45 z0 a0 z-.5 a45 z0 a0 z-.5 a45 z0 a0

I found this in my app list, it hadn’t asked for any permissions. If it’s looking at every image I get, it’s doing so extremely discreetly.

Sus. Very sus.

Imagine a slowmo video of a grenade going off. You’re walking in to that.

Unless you go at 4 pm when they open, you’re in for a bad time. Actually scratch that, you’re in for a worse time.

You go early for dinner, expecting to be sat immediately to be greeted by a press of people at the door. No one is happy, everyone is grumpy and in each other’s space. You wade through the throng to a hostess stand, which is next to a butcher’s counter full of disappointing looking meat. On top of it is clawingly sweet smelling bread. The 16 year old girl asks you how many impatiently, and takes your phone number. They’ll text you when your table is ready. As you’re trying to ask how long someone else pushes past you to grab a bowl of bread, and ushers a family of 4 morbidly obese people through an opening barely wide enough for the teenager.

Oversized tables are mushed together and you watch them navigate a labyrinth before someone else pushes past you to talk to the hostess. You go stand awkwardly in a corner somewhere.

It’s uncomfortable and crowded but it won’t be long, you tell yourself.

The minutes drag on, you feel your will to stay drain with each passing second. As you’re getting ready to get up to leave your phone buzzes, your table is ready. You push past the throng of people, past someone asking how long it will be at the host stand, to see someone grabbing a bowl of bread for you. You follow the 32 year old teenager through the labyrinth to an oversized table. You actually have to sit on the edge of the booth to reach it, it feels too tall. The bench is over worn, and the guy serving you leaves without a word and returns with waters before asking what you’d like to drink, as if you’re interrupting him.

You’ve looked at the drink menu, and they’ve taken the effort to rename every overly sweet cocktail to something cheeky, and you have to go by the pictures to know what they are. You decide to stick with water. He hands you menus and disappears.

The menu is overlarge, sticky, and colorful. Nothing looks unique or interesting. It’s bog standard steakhouse flare and you remember the steaks in the cooler really not looking all that appetizing. You’ve had a basket of sweet dinner rolls and are no longer hungry but feel like if you don’t get an appetizer you’re missing out on the essential TR experience. You order the platter and a cheeseburger.

The food shows up before you finish your water, and it’s fine. Nothing is wrong with any of it. You have absolutely no complaints about the food itself, but nothing stands out as particularly unique, or interesting. And you could have gotten all of this somewhere else cheaper, you’re sure. Maybe even less of it because the amount of food put in front of you is insulting. It’s a lot. The burger is difficult to finish and you have another basket of rolls you haven’t touched. 3/4s of what you ordered is still in front of you, you’re full, tired, and not really interested in having any of it later.

You pay at the little computer that’s sitting on the table that you largely ignored after discovering it wanted to charge you 5 dollars to play an android game. You leave past an even denser crowd of people and vow never to go back

They no longer do peanuts, they throw bread at you now

What the fuck did I just read?

Am I having a stroke?