Yeah, this.
I had to look at the blow dry poll for at least 30 seconds before I noticed the difference between the first two choices. I need to get my coffee.
I don’t see the point of pawn shops. When I want a new chess set, I want to buy all the pieces.
Interesting. I thought jerry-rigged was the replacement term for a very racist description that I heard in my youth. But I was told by a blathering neighbor that it was short for describing something that was built by a bunch of men (yes, sexist) who were pretending they knew what they were doing.
I used to blow-dry my hair.
American fast food in other countries? Not if I can help it. My ex and I did end up eating at a McDonald’s in England once but only because it was the only place still open at 11:00 pm when we were traveling home from a distance and didn’t want to go to bed on full stomachs.
Yes, I remember many of my dreams from years past.
However, I don’t believe that dreams have any significance, so I am not going to inflict them on you.
For 50 weeks out of the year I do not remember dreaming as a consequence of my cannabis use. During my two weeks of abstention to reset my tolerance I have vivid, crazy dreams
When my chess set is missing a pawn, I know where to go.
I did browse the McDonalds in the Tel Aviv airport, but mostly because I had a lot of time to kill there. I think I browsed every store in the area we were in. They didn’t have the Fillet-o-fish, which is the only McD sandwich I eat. Also, the sandwich shop was sort of technically separate from the coffee shop, which was immediately next to it. I guess so they could serve both milk and meat, but make it clear they were keeping them separate.
I voted no on salting the breakfast because this is the exhaustive list of the foods I add salt to after they’re cooked:
*Buttered pasta
*Corn on the cob
*Popcorn
*slices of cold, roasted turkey
quando omni flunkus moritati
“I’m a man…but I can change…if I have to…I guess.”
I’ve sold stuff to a pawn shop, but I’ve never pawned anything.
I used to work at One Penn Plaza and then 120 Broadway in midtown Manhattan. I don’t recall the size of those buildings but I think they were well over 100 stories. Can’t remember which floors I worked on.
I’m afraid of heights and this being after 9/11 (2008 I think - ground zero was a construction site) I was not enthralled by the height or the way the building swayed when it was windy. It felt like a boat rocking. In both cases my desk was away from a window but the other offices had huge windows you could see through floor to ceiling, and you could see those windows from where I sat. No thank you.
For context, I don’t even like coming down stairs from the second floor of a building. It was pretty nerve wracking.
My mother yelled at me in Cantonese. She spoke English at all other times. I’m not even sure she knew what she was saying, she was not a fluent Cantonese speaker, she was born in Washington, DC. I assume she was just repeating whatever it was her mother yelled at her when she was a child.
My dad was fond of using “forthwith” when he wanted me to get on with a thing.
I don’t remember what either of my parents said when they wanted me to hurry up. Unless it was just “hurry up”; which is possible, but not clear in my memory.
I am surprised to see “lollygag” as popular as it is. I would have understood the others, and they may have been used, but “lollygag” is what I remember. From my Canadian parent—I think my American parent would have just said “hurry up.”
My husband is 3/4 Sicilian, his grandparents were immigrants. Very culturally Italian people including a lot of spoken Italian language in the family. One year they all went to Italy and decided to show off their Italian. The Italians had no idea what the hell they were saying.
My dad loved to use “lollygag”. He had quite a repertoire of words to make us get the lead out and get moving.
Because their Italian was bad or because they were speaking Sicilian, which is a different but related language?