A friend of mine once invited me to the Christening of a baby born to one of her frenemies, someone I also knew slightly. I love Christenings, especially the ones that involve very lengthy traditional religious services, and babies in general. As we were walking to the post-Christening lunch my friend described the frenemy’s baby as something like a five-pound toad, but not in those exact words.
Joke’s on her: that baby ended up dating her daughter for a couple of years (about the same age, went to the same university) and he’s now regularly appearing on various “Power Lists” in his field.
i need to fit an upgrade to my pc….. something that will gently wake me up and remind me to go to bed whenever i fall asleep at the desk……like….a cattle prod?
that’ll do it
sleeping cross legged in a desk chair with my elbow dug into the knee of said crossed leg as im resting my head on the hand attached to said elbow….does not do me any favours
gonna be a minute before the pins and needles stop and i can walk properly again
if this was something i rarely did i’d consider a cattle prod to maybe be a little overkill…..but this is like….the third time this week
Fresh off devouring all the leaked tidbits from Spare* I find myself engrossed in the Magical Realism** that is George Santos’s various resumes under different pseudonyms. In one of his Build Your Own Adventure narratives he was a cast member on Hannah Montana, which itself was about a person living a double life. In Kitari’s case it’s more like Sybil, the subject of which manifested 16 personalities.
* I have first-hand evidence that Spare is flying off the shelves. My complimentary copy has not yet arrived because PRH can’t supply the market fast enough. So supersaturated in the public conscience has it become that now there’s a cottage industry of Deconstructionists trying to separate not truth from falsehood (although there’s plenty of that; c.f. where Hazza was and from whom he learned of his great-gran’s death) but meaning from text. For example, there are passages where Hazza is one of the blokes from ’round the pub, with lots of “mates” and f-bombs thrown in, and then other times when he lapses into Windsor-speak, like in the passage where he says something like, “I marveled once again at the beauty of Sandringham.” Then there is the overlay of Americanisms, introduced by the ghostwriter. One critic pointed out that a British person would not use “snack” as a verb. I never knew that.
** If you like Magical Realism, and I don’t particularly, I can highly recommend Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane. This was sprung on me unexpectedly by my book club years ago. Having loved Good Omens (the book and then eventually and maybe even moreso the miniseries) I read it with an open mind and was enchanted.
Or you can just read the daily updates from the post-modern literary critics/workaday reporters attempting to dissect George Santos’s performative intent.
File under only on the big island: my brother’s dog caught a baby pig in their yard. My niece’s boyfriend decided to keep it & make it a pet. He bathed it, has been hand feeding it & yesterday my mom saw him sing to it while he rocked it in his arms! They have 5 dogs that will not be enjoying this new development.
I’m told that pigs are pretty awesome pets. I cannot speak to this personally, because Sheldon forbids me to expend any effort on mammals. Yet, I have been told this by others of my acquaintance.
This is like when you get the pet duck around Valentine’s Day and it’s super cute and then somehow it flies away and you have duck blood soup at Easter.
Train the pig to stay in the area, then fatten it up ’til fall… then hog roast once it’s full-sized?
My uncle used to do something similar with his multiple years of calves named “Floyd.”
Bought a male calf in the spring (Holsteins–‘cuz those were the breed used by local dairy farmers), feed it all summer–“tying it out” on a rope/chain attached to a tractor, so the steer couldn’t roam too far…
Then butcher him in the fall, so they had a chest-freezer full of beef for the year….
Repeat next spring, after calving season, when the farmers are looking to get rid of *next* year’s male calves.
(they obviously keep all the girl calves they can, but since you don’t want many–or any–bulls around a farm** they castrate then sell all the steers for meat–veal if they’re sold young enough)
(**typically farmers will inseminate from “known line” bulls, rather than take chances that the offspring may produce less milk than their ancestresses)
Yeah, pretty sure that is the plan. Unless my nieces daughter falls in love with it like she did with the goat they found. She taught it how to play soccer with her.
Kids’re definitely the sticky wicket, when it comes to “raise your own meat!”
That’s ADORABLE, about the goat (and the soccer bit!😉😆🤗💖), and I can definitely relate! Each year, when my uncle got “Floyd,” us kids were always told, “Do not get too attached! Floyd is not a pet, he will be your dinner next winter, and nothing is gonna change that!”
Tbh, learning about Floyd *not* being a pet (and helping with the annual fall chicken-butchering), was a good lesson to learn as kids–because my cousins & I all learned early, that YES, all the meat we ate was a real–sometimes cute animal… and we learned to respect the fact that the animal died so *we* could eat, and someone had done LOTS of work–at many different levels, for *us* to be able to eat that meat…
It wasn’t just that mom or dad cooked it–someone had raised it, someone else had butchered it, and THEN it was cooked…lots of work, and a life had been taken, to get it to us.
It made all of us much more conscientious about what we eat, and what went into getting that food to us, as adults.
The Walking Dead (S7) spoiler ahead. Lol yes I am many years behind the rest of the world.
*************
Hot duder from Grey’s killed Glenn!!! 😭
*************
Ok. That that is all. Carry on with the open thread.
Yeah, about a year after that I dropped the show entirely.
I read all the comics. They are … not great, and the show is arguably worse.
I am totally upset over this.
Cane Toad Controversy: Is ‘Toadzilla’ a Record-Breaker?
I mean, is nothing sacred? A five-pound toad didn’t break the record?
“Five Pound Toad” is a good name for a blues/boogie band.
A friend of mine once invited me to the Christening of a baby born to one of her frenemies, someone I also knew slightly. I love Christenings, especially the ones that involve very lengthy traditional religious services, and babies in general. As we were walking to the post-Christening lunch my friend described the frenemy’s baby as something like a five-pound toad, but not in those exact words.
Joke’s on her: that baby ended up dating her daughter for a couple of years (about the same age, went to the same university) and he’s now regularly appearing on various “Power Lists” in his field.
The truth is a lot of newborns look like toads. It can take a while to get unsquished.
i need to fit an upgrade to my pc….. something that will gently wake me up and remind me to go to bed whenever i fall asleep at the desk……like….a cattle prod?
that’ll do it
sleeping cross legged in a desk chair with my elbow dug into the knee of said crossed leg as im resting my head on the hand attached to said elbow….does not do me any favours
gonna be a minute before the pins and needles stop and i can walk properly again
if this was something i rarely did i’d consider a cattle prod to maybe be a little overkill…..but this is like….the third time this week
i also need the cattle prod so i wont wake up and decide to watch this movie
this is a fucking wierd movie…….not bad tho
Fresh off devouring all the leaked tidbits from Spare* I find myself engrossed in the Magical Realism** that is George Santos’s various resumes under different pseudonyms. In one of his Build Your Own Adventure narratives he was a cast member on Hannah Montana, which itself was about a person living a double life. In Kitari’s case it’s more like Sybil, the subject of which manifested 16 personalities.
* I have first-hand evidence that Spare is flying off the shelves. My complimentary copy has not yet arrived because PRH can’t supply the market fast enough. So supersaturated in the public conscience has it become that now there’s a cottage industry of Deconstructionists trying to separate not truth from falsehood (although there’s plenty of that; c.f. where Hazza was and from whom he learned of his great-gran’s death) but meaning from text. For example, there are passages where Hazza is one of the blokes from ’round the pub, with lots of “mates” and f-bombs thrown in, and then other times when he lapses into Windsor-speak, like in the passage where he says something like, “I marveled once again at the beauty of Sandringham.” Then there is the overlay of Americanisms, introduced by the ghostwriter. One critic pointed out that a British person would not use “snack” as a verb. I never knew that.
** If you like Magical Realism, and I don’t particularly, I can highly recommend Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane. This was sprung on me unexpectedly by my book club years ago. Having loved Good Omens (the book and then eventually and maybe even moreso the miniseries) I read it with an open mind and was enchanted.
Or you can just read the daily updates from the post-modern literary critics/workaday reporters attempting to dissect George Santos’s performative intent.
Pretty much anything by Neil Gaiman is wonderful. I have spoken.
File under only on the big island: my brother’s dog caught a baby pig in their yard. My niece’s boyfriend decided to keep it & make it a pet. He bathed it, has been hand feeding it & yesterday my mom saw him sing to it while he rocked it in his arms! They have 5 dogs that will not be enjoying this new development.
I’m told that pigs are pretty awesome pets. I cannot speak to this personally, because Sheldon forbids me to expend any effort on mammals. Yet, I have been told this by others of my acquaintance.
Most of this family hunts pigs so I am questioning their motives.
This is like when you get the pet duck around Valentine’s Day and it’s super cute and then somehow it flies away and you have duck blood soup at Easter.
Think of this as a long, less-work hunt, Shaq!😉
Train the pig to stay in the area, then fatten it up ’til fall… then hog roast once it’s full-sized?
My uncle used to do something similar with his multiple years of calves named “Floyd.”
Bought a male calf in the spring (Holsteins–‘cuz those were the breed used by local dairy farmers), feed it all summer–“tying it out” on a rope/chain attached to a tractor, so the steer couldn’t roam too far…
Then butcher him in the fall, so they had a chest-freezer full of beef for the year….
Repeat next spring, after calving season, when the farmers are looking to get rid of *next* year’s male calves.
(they obviously keep all the girl calves they can, but since you don’t want many–or any–bulls around a farm** they castrate then sell all the steers for meat–veal if they’re sold young enough)
(**typically farmers will inseminate from “known line” bulls, rather than take chances that the offspring may produce less milk than their ancestresses)
Yeah, pretty sure that is the plan. Unless my nieces daughter falls in love with it like she did with the goat they found. She taught it how to play soccer with her.
Kids’re definitely the sticky wicket, when it comes to “raise your own meat!”
That’s ADORABLE, about the goat (and the soccer bit!😉😆🤗💖), and I can definitely relate! Each year, when my uncle got “Floyd,” us kids were always told, “Do not get too attached! Floyd is not a pet, he will be your dinner next winter, and nothing is gonna change that!”
Tbh, learning about Floyd *not* being a pet (and helping with the annual fall chicken-butchering), was a good lesson to learn as kids–because my cousins & I all learned early, that YES, all the meat we ate was a real–sometimes cute animal… and we learned to respect the fact that the animal died so *we* could eat, and someone had done LOTS of work–at many different levels, for *us* to be able to eat that meat…
It wasn’t just that mom or dad cooked it–someone had raised it, someone else had butchered it, and THEN it was cooked…lots of work, and a life had been taken, to get it to us.
It made all of us much more conscientious about what we eat, and what went into getting that food to us, as adults.