It’s a satchel. Indiana Jones carries one.
It’s a satchel. Indiana Jones carries one.
I’m pretty damned sore (heh) about the tightening of opiates. It’s gone so far as to be ludicrous.
Sliced a good chunk off my thumb couple of years back. It was late so my wife bandaged me up best she could, the bottom layer being gauze. By the time I got to the ER the next day, that gauge was embedded in the wound. Jesus, it was hell just getting the edges a little loose and you could see where the wound was perfectly flat. That bad.
We soaked it in H2O2, didn’t do much. I was all but begging for a shot of lidocaine and they treated me like I was “seeking”, refused and refused. Finally got a little, not nearly enough. Ended up bent over the table while the doctor ripped it off. Jesus Christ, blood came pouring. And FFS, this was wound was in a major nerve concentration! Again, this wasn’t a scratch, doctor even said I’d be deformed for life. (Modern wound care grew almost all of it back with very little pain!)
And don’t start me on Xanax. Because of the addicts I can no longer have the one drug that ever worked for my depression.
Me too. I’ve got several “purses”. Can’t stand much in my pockets.
Where do you live where this could be problematic?!
Sometimes we men don’t ask for help simply because we want to see if we can do it ourselves. It’s a test.
I often have work at my camp that makes me think it would be smarter or safer to wait until I can get help. Then I think, nah, you can figure this out. That often leads to novel solutions.
Crying in front of a woman has got me dumped a few times, like next-day dumped.
Alive he can go down in ignominy and we can move past him. Dead, he would be a martyr and would never leave America’s conscience.
I was a toddler when Nixon went down, but I heard what my parents had to say and combined that with what I’ve learned of history. Nixon was very popular, but once he went down he was like Voldemort, the one who shall not be named.
When asking yourself such questions, ask what law(s) might be broken. There are plenty I’m sure, but your PI should know exactly how to stay out of trouble. Unless when, maybe later, it comes out that he was up to shenanigans…
And no, I’m certain no justification is required to contract a PI. Imagine if there was, no one would do the job.
Toad Suck, Arkansas. Got a cool pic at the lock and dam, missed the park and the town itself.
Transylvania, Louisiana. Got a pic of the bat painted on the water tower, but the general store/Post Office was closed, so no souvenirs.
More like, “these are easy jobs for fat stacks”. Each is easy to break into, the fat stacks part takes real work.
Had a reddit post deleted for using retard as a verb, as in, “Have you tried retarding the action, maybe it’s too fast?”
Well crud, came to the comments wondering exactly that. Be a cool place to park one’s kayak or canoe, stretch legs. If you can’t get on it, it’s utterly useless. And news flash, people are going to climb all over it anyway.
“Really Havelock, why do you suffer such a fool on the city payroll?”
“My dear Margolotta, for the pittance I pay the man, he does the work of 10 others. Fool he may be, but he is an accurate fool.”
You made me remember! Yes, this was on a HUGE TV, probably 70", and that in a time when those were insanely expensive, had never seen one in a home. It was like the house walls in Fahrenheit 451.
“Come look! The White Clown is talking!”
An LSD party back in college taught me a thing I’ll never forget. There were 3 TVs in the living room and my best friend and I were tripping balls. He pulls me over to where I can see all 3 screens.
He said, “Notice who the number of people watching is directly proportional to the size of the screen?”
Mind. Blown.
You can score big time with really odd hot/sweet combos.
Nothing I’ve read has ever explained Trump’s appeal like this article.
https://www.cracked.com/blog/6-reasons-trumps-rise-that-no-one-talks-about
Nothing in there makes a cute soundbite. “They’re racist!”, is far easier than having to digest what the author lays down.
Seriously, read it. It’s important.
Yep, I lay the majority of our political insanity on Fox’s door. Look, we all know they’re the GOP’s propaganda arm, but how many of you have actually watched a good bit?
I was stuck with a week of it during the Snowden revelations. In the space of an entire week, I didn’t hear a single word on what was worldwide news. Stunning, and I still can’t explain it, but it happened. Point being, a lot of the lies are in what they don’t say. Early afternoon of 01/06, not a blip on the website. (Which BTW, is far more sane than the TV version.) I checked the wayback machine and FOx reported nothing until hours after kick off. I presume they prayed it would blow over or at least die down. Imagine the spin control behind the scenes! Hell, even Tucker Carlson pleased with Trump to make a sane statement and cut it off.
After hearing “Obama” thousands of times, over and over and over, I was sick of him! The whole time my friend’s step-mom was screaming at the screen, “The KKK ought to do their got damned JOB!” These people sat in their armchairs 24/7 (never saw them go to their bedroom), smoking weed and watching nothing but Fox. We tried to put on a movie or another show exactly twice and it promptly got switched back.
One time I was stuck with Fox at the doctor’s office, some kind of round-table show going on. A metric showing black people doing better under the Obama administration came up, something about pay I think. One of the hosts slams his fist of the table and shouted, “Obama’s a RACIST!” Constantly listen to crap like that and you are, eventually, getting brainwashed.
Lord Vetinari would have him on the city payroll.
We out here poking and peeking.
About to pass out at home watching 2001. Worked 6-days a week, Saturday night was my only time alone, spent Sundays healing up to go hang cable again. No friends or family, alone in Chicagoland.
Knock on my door. No one can get there unless they’re already in the building. WTF. It’s the Mexican chick from downstairs and her little 19-yo friend I had never met.
I’ll spare the gruesome details, but apparently they both decided, “Imma FUCK him!” And they did. And each other. It was… something else. And I almost didn’t answer the door.