I don’t work in programming (helicopter maintenance/repair), but my boss goes one step further.
Boss: How long until it’s ready for a test flight?
Me: I’d say…
Boss: Wait. Give me an honest number, don’t add buffer time. I’m already going to double whatever you say to tell District.
Me: Oh, okay, with paperwork and ops checks, 3 hours is feasible, as long as we don’t encounter any other issues.
Boss: roger, six hours, sounds good.
Fair, but also a woman (or man) with a mess of hair that has never seen a comb or scissors wouldn’t be very attractive (to me, at least), and I think the same of other hair. If I have a beard, it will be shaped. And if I am hoping to have someone put their face by my junk, I am going to make sure the hair is trimmed and tidy. Leg hair and arm hair, unless you have some weird genetic werewolf stuff going on, aren’t going to get untidy on their own.
I think it is reasonable to hope or express preference for the same. Not waxed, not shaved, but at least some level of maintenance.
I’ve thought about that, because I have zero interest in putting myself or my family through that. But the hardest thing, as far as I can tell, is figuring out the point to make that decision while still having the capacity to do so. It’s like playing the stock market and watching number go up, and knowing when to sell before it tanks. I don’t want to miss out on valuable time, but I also don’t to go too long and miss out on the opportunity to end on my own terms.
Wow, I commented three other songs, but this one is it. This is going into my playlists.
Am I Evil - Metallica, originally by Diamond Head
Somebody that I used to know - Walk Off the Earth, originally by Gotye
Common People - William Shatner and Ben Folds, originally by Pulp.
The first because Metallica was just SO much cleaner, second because I thought the song was trash until I heard it by somebody who didn’t mumble through the whole thing, the third… well the Shatner one isn’t exactly good, but it’s at least entertaining, which is more than can be said for the original.
Millenials are GenY. Confused the hell out of me for awhile until I realized we were the ones people were talking about.
There’s three that I consistently have people who grew up at the same time don’t remember:
Exosquad I watched religiously, and I don’t think they ever finished it. Mighty Max was on every day before I went to school, so it was my breakfast watch.
On an episode of a hospital-based show, a little girl (like, 8 or 10) drowns in a pool and effort to resuscitate fail. That didn’t get me, even with the parents crying. The girl has a sister, who is making a card for the girl who has already been declared dead. Sad, but didn’t get me. Sister explains that the girl died saving her, since she fell in the neighbor’s pool trying to get a ball, and the sister jumped in, pushed the sister out, and then couldn’t get out herself, and eventually drowned.
And I got slammed with a real-life memory. I work in Search and Rescue, and one case my station had over a decade ago was a pair of children that got swept out to sea. Only the younger brother survived. Because the sister spent the whole time keeping him above water, and ended up exhausting and drowning herself. I try not to think about it, because it fucks me up really bad, and especially because now I have a daughter and a younger son. That scene dredged that up real hard, real fast.
Pro tip for you:
Ask for Cocoa Fudge with your Heath Blizzard instead of chocolate sauce. Even better, Cocoa Fudge with a small splash of cappuccino. Makes it way better.
Source: was a store manager of a Dairy Queen (20 years ago)
In English, orange is essentiall “orange red,” as in “red like an orange.” Prior to oranges making their way to Europe, the color we refer to as “orange” was red, or yellow-red. Hence people with orange hair being called “red-heads.”
Bisexual people: Is it okay for me to have friends?
Not everybody is a potential sexual partner. Having friends of any gender is fine. If you start getting any non-platonic feelings, take a step back. If your friend starts getting (or demonstrating) non-platonic feelings, take a step back.
Neither of those articles supports what you are saying. The first one, about sexual assault, says in big, bold letters that men are less likely to report sexual assault. The argument was not that more violence is committed against men (sexual assaults at the very least are obviously not), it’s that men are less likely to report it when it happens, which is exactly what your article said. It also said women under-report. But just because women also under-report doesn’t mean they under-report at a higher rate than men.
Seriously. There is no reason to believe in something that not only isn’t proven to exist, but can’t. That argument could be applied to nearly anything.
Vampires? Can’t prove they don’t exist, so may as well believe in them.
Fairies? Same.
Flying spaghetti monster? Prove it doesn’t exist.
Like, I don’t want to knock other people’s religions, and I’m not so arrogant as to think I have all the answers, but I just can’t stand the “you can’t prove XXXX doesn’t exist” argument.
I still get infections in my mouth if I have more than, like, two in a sitting. And then my mouth hurts for a week.
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Interesting that allowing women to vote created a situation where women felt it less absolutely necessary to get married. Because after a while, their voice had to be considered when discussing bills like prohibiting banks from refusing bank accounts, home loans, and credit cards to women.
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A book that I got as part of a birthday present when I was in middle school had a passage where a man’s long-lost sister (who was part monster, but was painstakingly described as very attractive) told him that either he had to impregnate her the old-fashioned way, or she would simply get a syringe, extract sperm from his testicles, and impregnate herself that way to create, if I remember correctly, a monster that would end the world or something. It was labeled as “Young Adult” level.
So, like, probably something like that.
Military. Search and rescue, specifically.