Any time I see or meet up with one of those crazy bible thumping, megachurch, hands in the air singing along, creationist, quiverfull type Christians, I have a violent fantasy about locking all the doors to the building and gassing the lot of them like roaches. I confess this because if I had no chance of getting caught I’d do this in a minute.
In most things I try to be understanding of all points of view, yet I harshly judge …
men who pee standing up, but who do not take prime responsibility for ensuring the bathroom never smells like pee
people in the grocery line in front of me who buy nothing but processed food and soft drinks
people who walk in public wearing flip-flops and make that repugnant flip-flop sound (it’s possible to wear flip flops without doing it! I can do it! I expect nothing less from you!)
people who talk to my cleavage. Yes I know it’s fantastic. Be discreet.
people who like Angel (the character first seen on Buffy) better than Spike
people who ride their bicycle but don’t keep it oiled
people who allow their ill-mannered dogs out in public
I am not really interested in mass media, I haven’t seen a movie in years and I hardly ever watch TV. But when I do watch (if it’s not the news) it’s syndicated sitcoms, Dr Phil (I can’t stand him … but I can’t get enough of his blasted show), or America’s Next Top Model. I don’t know anybody else who watches those so it’s not even like I’m doing it to keep up with water cooler talk at work.
I think illegal drugs are generally better for people than legal ones, both for my own personal use and as a basis of public policy. (I also understand that most of both categories are inappropriate in most situations.)
I believe that bike helmets and bike lanes make me (as a cyclist) less safe, but I use both for fear of confrontations with my bike activist friends.
I prefer most dogs to most people. But although I am a devoted big-dog person, I quite like well-mannered small dogs too, and I would get one to keep my great big pit bull company, if only my big-dog-loving boyfriend would agree with me.
I’m afraid of H.P. Lovecraft’s universe. Especially in winter. If I’m not careful, I forget that the stuff was written by someone and really sincerely believe that Cthulhu lurks below the seas and that something is waiting to be found in the mountains of Antarctica. I can’t really admit this to my geek friends. Especially since saying it will perhaps make it come true.
I believe that bike helmets and bike lanes make me (as a cyclist) less safe, but I use both for fear of confrontations with my bike activist friends.
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I’ve heard arguments both for and against helmets (and helmet laws for that matter), but just out of curiosity, because I’ve never heard it mentioned before…why do bike lanes make you feel less safe?
I can’t flippin stand science fiction. I’m smart enough to get it, and understand all of the intricacies, but I just can’t stand it. Heinlein sucks and LOTR (the books and movies) bored me senseless.
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I was especially bored with the part where Frodo kills Sauron with a 1920’s style “Death Ray”.
[QUOTE=Lucky 13]
I have witnessed the cleavage-fest on this thread with much amusement, and much as I am well-qualified to participate, I will sit this one out as I have no idea how to post photos online.
Speaking of which, it took me 25 years to come to terms with having large breasts. I developed early (age 11), which one would think would have made me popular with boys. Quite the opposite - people would call out “Moo!” as I was walking down the hall at school. I spent most of the following years trying to hide my breasts, wearing big jackets and cover-ups, and generally hating my body. Only in the past 12 months or so have I really begun appreciating being well-endowed. I mean, I might as well get some mileage out of my boobs before they start sagging for real.
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Are you me?
Friday night I went out with a (male) friend who I haven’t seen in 10 or 12 pounds. He quite enjoyed my increased cleavage-osity and told me I am “voluptuous.” Judging by his expression, it was quite obviously a compliment.
I didn’t care all that much for my maternal grandmother, and I still feel guilty about it even though she’s been dead a good few years.
I broke down at my father’s funeral and I still feel ashamed about it, even though he’s been gone a few good years as well. I sobbed so hard that a huge booger flew out of my nose in front of all the mourners and everytime I remember this - in slow motion, of course - I want to die.
I present myself as a caring and patient person, but inwardly I want to choke the living shit out of a LOT of people. Like, shake them until something goes ‘CRACK!’ while screaming “What the hell is wrong with you?! Leave me the hell alone!!”
I like porn. My wife is convinced it’s evil, and this makes me feel guilty.
I fixate on certain things. Right now I’m fixating on taking the MSF course & getting a cheap motorcycle, even though I know my priority should be apartment hunting because our lease is up in a couple of months. I can’t help it.
I just remembered - it annoys me when my mother cries. I get concerned when anyone else cries or is visibly upset, but when it happens to my mom, I just want to scream, “Get over it!” or at a minimum roll my eyes. I’ve spent years and years comforting her over her tragedies and everyone of her friend’s tragedies, plus my own. When I was robbed at gunpoint and could have been shot in the head for the four bucks in my purse, it took me a good week to get her to stop blubbering everytime I spoke to her over the phone. When my mom’s trainer’s mother died, I was accused of being cold because I didn’t break down right along with my mom over the phone when I got the news. “Um, mom, have you met this person?” “No, but it’s tragic…just so very tragic.”
Then when my sister’s cat got sick and horked up a hairball the size of a remote last week, I got yelled at for laughing. The cat was fine, but apparently such a “close call” necessitates far more gravity than I’m capable of at such times.
I’m the same way! My boyfriend says I’ve redefined the term “insatiable” for him.
I want that picture! It would make me happy deep down in my soul! If you take a picture of you looking appreciative of my breasts I will totally make that the background image on my computer and I’ll take a picture of me with said background image to prove it!
[QUOTE=pbbth]
I want that picture! It would make me happy deep down in my soul! If you take a picture of you looking appreciative of my breasts I will totally make that the background image on my computer and I’ll take a picture of me with said background image to prove it!
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Careful - you could set off a recursive effect that could potentially destroy the universe!
[QUOTE=Illuminatiprimus]
You just reduced it by making me laugh until no sound came out of my mouth.
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It made me laugh, too.
Also, I’ve always wanted to drop acid, but never had the nerve (or the opp) to do so. I am terrified that I’ll have a bad trip or worse, one I never come back from (my husband’s godmother’s son had that happen to him). So, it ain’t gonna happen, but every now and then I wonder…
[QUOTE=Joey P]
I got a toothache like 12 years ago, I never told the dentist about it (sometimes I forgot, sometimes I didn’t want to know what it really was, I figured if it was important, the x-rays would show something). To this day it still hurts if I chomp down on that tooth with something hard. To make matters worse, I haven’t been to the dentist in like 10 years. At this point I’m scared to go. I really don’t want to know how many cavities I have, or how much it will cost to fill them.
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You could check your area for dental schools. Sometimes you can get a good deal, especially if you have a problem that fits someone’s testing needs. My son got flown from California to Nevada so that his teeth cleaning could be someone’s certification test. For the test, the student had to produce someone with enough plaque in the right places. He had to go through an examination to prove to the student that his teeth were plaque-y enough.
For the thread:
My bed is not made.
(Sorry. I was raised by hermits. That’s about as self-disclosing as I’m comfortable being today.)
Okay, this is probably a confession I shouldn’t make because of the weirdness that will be caused by it, but here goes:
I have met Zebra and I think he is hella sexy. Before I met my boyfriend I occasionally considered PMimg him and seeing if he’d fancy a roll in the hay. And as an exhibitionist the bolded portion above really makes me think I probably should have attempted it at one point. :o
[QUOTE=pbbth]
I want that picture! It would make me happy deep down in my soul! If you take a picture of you looking appreciative of my breasts I will totally make that the background image on my computer and I’ll take a picture of me with said background image to prove it!
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Only happy to oblige!*
Enjoy!
Oddly for me, I was quite happy to oblige. I usually can’t stand taking my own picture, or having others shoot me.
Huzzah! I have indeed made your picture the background on my computer, JustAnotherGeek! I even took pictures of me next to the background to prove it. I am linking one here (it is a very, very bad picture of me but it is proof that I upheld my end of the bargain) and I am sending a special one to the email address you have listed in your profile, just to say thanks. Enjoy!