The oldest Gen Z was born in 1997.
I was born in the mid 60’s, but the eighties are my jam.
As I said, yes.
So this just shows my complete ignorance about Japanese names. I had only heard of the name because my wife bought some perfume. And when I read of his death, I saw the photograph of him that ran with the story, and it took a minute before I associated the name with the perfume. Thanks for the clarification.
Doo itashimashite! 
I woke on my floor again.
I hope I’m not sent back to the minors.
I’m all restrained and my fall alarm is charging.
They drugged me up so I had a dream and woke up again.
The dream was about my sisters new puppy. We put a shirt on her that made her able to fly. Then we pushed a button and the leash brought her down again
Aww. I’m sorry you had a setback. We’re rooting for you.
Who else would report a setback and give us a flying puppy at the same time? A FLYING PUPPY!
So I’m settling down to a nice late-night sleep; the weather is cool, the windows are open, and a gentle cool breeze wafts in. What could be nicer!
Well, one thing that could be nicer is the absence of a sudden onset of the acrid putrid smell of burning rubber that I immediately recognize as Eau de Skunke, the emission of a local relative of the infamous Pepe Le Pew. I immediately close up windows, but it’s too late.
This is at least the second time this summer – possibly the third – that I have been thus afflicted. Sometimes it happens when a skunk is run over, which is nice because it means one less skunk, but they are obviously plentiful enough to emit their noxious fumes multiple times in a summer.
I am particularly aggrieved – not just on my own behalf but on behalf of all my neighbours – because we have done nothing wrong to deserve this. It’s bad enough if it was a skunk being run over, but it’s likely that it was a skunk just spraying a perceived enemy – perhaps a bunny rabbit, which abound in these parts, or worse, somebody’s poor doggie or cat.
I’m particularly sensitized since I once had to subject my wonderful (but very thick-furred) Bernese Mountain Dog to multiple bath treatments after he had been skunked.
I pit skunks. They’re about as noxious and useless as Trumpists.
Baby skunks are the cutest things in the world though. But from a distance, or behind a window.
Oh yes they are!
I want a pet skunk, but that’s not legal where I live. 
I once met a very nice tame skunk at a petting zoo. She’d been descented, of course. Quite the snuggler.
NJ may Finally start treating Temp Workers like human beings. Too long have employees been abused by a system created to victimize employees while profiting Temp Agencies and the companies that hire them.
I just hope that it passes.
I am here to attest to the truth and wisdom of a comment by Bill Maher on last Friday’s New Rules segment:
New rule: Kids, when you go to the pool, you don’t have to scream the whole time!
Why did this attract my attention? Because my neighbour recently put in a pool. Said neighbour has a couple of kids. Together they have proved the enduring truth of Maher’s observation. I, OTOH, am a retired Old Fart™ just wishing to enjoy a peaceful retirement.
At first I didn’t mind. The screeching of happy kids, the chirping of birds – it was just the sounds of summer. But I can only take so much of it. Even birds piss me off sometimes, especially the annoyingly persistent “dawn chorus” – the one where all the birds within 100 miles descend on my house to loudly announce that they have detected the sun rising, and to shit on my patio.
Do bring this up in the future thread: “How do I know when I’m becoming a grumpy curmudgeon?”
Looks to me like you’ve found your solution.
No, that would be the nuclear option – Mutual Assured Destruction!
Haven’t decided if I should try to defend myself or just admit it!
Around here, it seems like every time a skunk is run over. 
I don’t remember so many of the little guys being around here until the last few years; in fact, the first time I smelled skunk was during a vacation in New England about 20 years ago, and a relative had to tell me what the godawful stench was.
Can’t believe I’m agreeing with Bill Maher…
But yeah, the noises that typically come out of our neighborhood pool are beyond mere screaming; these are the sounds I imagine a child would make when being chased by a kidnapper or murderer. I (and everyone else in the neighborhood) has learned to tune these sounds out, meaning we were oblivious a few weeks ago when a kid cut their foot on some glass that had ended up in the pool. Now, in order to comply with county rules, the pool has been drained; it awaits thorough cleaning, inspection, and eventual refill. Until then, blissful silence.
Glass…mysteriously ended up in the pool. I have an idea, but you really shouldn’t listen to me.
(HOA is threatening to stick the glass-bringer with the cost of cleanup, if they can figure out who did it.)
Told this story in a cocktails thread, but I’m still chuckling about it, so I’ll share it with my fellow mini-ranters as well.
.
In a total tangent, a friend got a hand-tailored suit, and the (Japanese? Not sure what accent the storyteller was doing) tailor asked him what name he’d like embroidered on the inside pocket.
Poor old tailor had a to wait while his customer thought through fake names, pithy sayings, movie quotes… Finally the friend gave up and said "Fuck it. Whisky Neat. Let’s go with that, it’s what I usually drink."
The tailor was glad to be able to get to work on the suit, and when it was done… I think anyone here already knows what was tastefully stitched inside his suit.