I wish I knew a 4 y/o kid so they could show me how to unlock $600 in savings every week with the Kroger app on my phone.
Adults are so judgmental because I can't work my phone. It's all fun and games until somebody needs to know the tactical employment of the M-60 machinegun and I'm being all Mr. TightLips. "Yeah, where were you when I needed help with my phone smarty-pants?"
It's all fun and games until somebody needs to know the tactical employment of the M-60 machinegun and I'm being all Mr. TightLips. "Yeah, where were you when I needed help with my phone smarty-pants?"
That's my guy. We would've had such beautiful children. That's what his mother and my parents said all the time. At least they wouldn't have been gay.
The only thing that scares me about Pac is his willingness to walk away and not look back. He's walked away from very lucrative careers over ethical and differing opinions. I hope he has that out of his system. I don't think I could live without him again.
Jim's pretty self sufficient. He doesn't need help very often. One time he did was his sister died and he got in trouble with the IRS. Christa, his "Tax Babe" saved him that time.
The other time that comes to mind was his accident in 2013. His prognosis was grim. There was a strange note in his records; he refused an IV in the ambulance and when his wife was notified, she said to not give him any pain medication because he "has an addictive personality." His universal drug screen was negative for anything, including alcohol. I'm not sure what was going on. I think they were trying to make it look like a suicide attempt IMHO.
Settle down, hot flash, there was no conspiracy, even that queer Klein determined it wasn't an attempt or hit. Sometimes a texting granny is just a texting granny.
I've cheated death since I was 4 years old when a dry cleaners van ran over me while I was playing with Matchbox cars (long before Hot Wheels) in the curb along the street. I still remember doing somersaults as the van went over me. I still remember ol' Doc Weber coming to the house (a house call!) on Kirkfield to suture up the the cut on my head. I don't remember any pain though. Maybe I was drinking at the time.
Then there was the bicycle incident when I was 11 or 12. My Dad took me to his quack buddy, Aiken, long gone. I split my skull from the edge of my right socket around the side to the back of my head It was on the opposite side I hit. I remember a huge bump later on my head (hematoma) that he took out with a huge syringe at least once. Still haven't been back to a hospital since I was born.
That took the meth-head or whatever he was on to to get me to St. Joe downtown after he hit me over the head for whatever scans under police custody, then to interrogation (I didn't talk) and torture and then to jail.
Everybody has to hit me in the head.
I'm gonna buy you a big, black 1964 Hudson Hornet and a little black bag for Christmas, Doc. OLD SCHOOL! LOL.
a dry cleaners van ran over me while I was playing with Matchbox cars (long before Hot Wheels) in the curb along the street.
OMFG! He's serious about that. He showed me a little newspaper clipping of the event. He and the driver was named. The driver was drunk, I have no idea how they determined that in the early 1960s. His chauffer's license was suspended. No mention as to how long.
Although at first blush it would appear that Pacman is immortal he still needs me and I need him. I like looking him over for new injuries every weekend. You should see his left knee. 🥺
What the hell, Dakkie? Are you still bent out of shape that Kim couldn't come see you when she was supposed to be seeing her sister in Carbondale over Thanksgiving? She misses you man, Talk to her.
I promise I won't have Columbian hit teams after you.
A constant stream of water has been flowing down my side of the street since at least 3:30 today. I called C.E., they seemed very disinterested. It started out clear, but by the time I headed out to pick up a few necessities it had become quite brown, will probably leave a mud ring once they shut it off.
t started out clear, but by the time I headed out to pick up a few necessities it had become quite brown, will probably leave a mud ring once they shut it off.
Maybe they're flushing out the fire hydrants, hopefully. That will fuck up your water for awhile. A fire dept incident can cause that too.
Maybe they're flushing out the fire hydrants, hopefully. That will fuck up your water for awhile. A fire dept incident can cause that too.
No, we are talking thousands of gallons per minute, like during a heavy downpour. Since early afternoon, still going strong. Ivy League grad I spoke with wanted to know how deep it was. Is "curb" too subjective? I do realise that curb heights vary, but given that this is the local utility managing water and drainage, I thought it best to advise them to come out and take a look for themselves. At the time I felt in counterproductive to point out my novice understanding of hydrology, but in retrospect it may have been the required mindfuck to resolve the problem.