Oh, no, that’s too much. Being from the Chicago suburbs, between Menards and Empire Carpet (before their growth to add the -Today- addendum), there’s a deep groove upon my brain made by those jingles. That, and John Madden’s congested cadence for various advertisements. Simply John Maddening.
^…588-2300 --damn, it!
It does! They’re both better than the degree of their overall popularity, and better than the other similar bands that were noticed when say, “Evil” came out… But, they still kinda half suck, sometimes, and it doesn’t seem like they should, haha
Which is maybe…exactly what you just said with more words.
Save big money at Menards, but not on Menards…
^…save ^big ^money– Gaa! That jingle will never leave me. Damn you, midwest!
Search ammonia and sulfur smells in bowel movements, and see if any typical causes match your current dietary habits or medical status/medications including supplements. If they don’t, see a doctor, then get to a gastroenterologist, if you can. Maybe just do that, anyway. Regular checks, and digestive health are extremely important, regardless of weird poo and especially because of weird poo, no matter how uncomfortable, it’s more comfortable than the alternative. Source: life of intense health problems. Get your butthole checked. We believe in you.
Hooray! I think! Cause that is correct.
When my focal seizures weren’t as well managed, one of the closest descriptions I could give is it often feels like experiencing various Windows error noises. Like, all varieties of them, from '93-XP, fit the bill. Occasionally, it’s dragging the multiplying, cascading window that won’t respond, across a teeny screen of barely available conciousness. Meds make me feel pretty dumb, and some errors still get through, but I don’t dunk, donk, dink, or bonk so much!
Super cute and fuzzy wuzzy until it’s jumping spider season, and they’re in the house, and jesus goddammit jumping spiders, I just cleaned up this shit, can you not web up the entire kitchen every fucking morning? Tiny ass Cirque du Soleil across the light fixtures, every damned day! Cute little shits.
Kyle Maclachlan is a got-dang national treasure. 🫡
Ahhhh, I’m always excited when someone else mentions Northern Exposure! Sometimes it’s felt like enough people haven’t known what I was talking about, if I couldn’t pull up the IMDb, I’d think it was some kind of Mandela effect of memories. One of the most fantastic themes, too – like the coziest aspects of the 90s made audible. Time for a re-watch, it’s been a long time.
Damn, that’s interesting! I’d think like any profession, some are just that good?
I’m a “better-safe-than-touch-up these fucking baseboards until I’m screaming” kinda person, so I’ll splurge my time on taping. I also tend to paint with strong-ass pigments, so I don’t wanna try to fix those blunders, haha. The previous owners of our home basically had the entire interior sprayed with matte ceiling paint over plaster when they moved out, so the kitchen, stairwell, and bathrooms are going to pros, especially so they can be done in succession. I just wanna be able to easily wash my flippin’ walls.
More power to you! I mean, I don’t tape outlets, just remove the covers, and be mindful of the plugs.But, my own house is riddled with crown moulding, including around the doorframes, which is very pretty and all, the contrasting white is lovely with painted walls, but DAMN if its jutting edges, corners, and curvy bits don’t sneak up on ya when you’re using a brush or a roller, no matter how carefully. So, for my clumsy bum, tape and more tape!
For reals, though - having painted several rooms–literally in the current process of painting another–you can use whatever “time saving” fucking scams tools are out there, but Frog Tape, friends! Tape, like you’re sealing a space station, and a little extra. Or just pay a professional to do it all properly, because it’s frankly a bitch, depending on your walls and layout.
Whoa! I don’t actually know what I expected, but this is so much more awesome information than I thought I’d see!
Thanks, everyone – I think I’m leaning towards a Baratza model, as that should fit a lot of categories that weren’t absolutely necessary, but preferred (electric, mid-range price, upgradeable).
Eventually, I may go for something fancier, some of those recommended are very slick, or gift myself a hand-grind; I do enjoy the ritual for certain things, but I’m not there yet, for coffee – props to those who put so much care into your brew!
Illness wrecked my enjoyment of many things until recently, coffee included, so it’s exciting–if not a little daunting–seeing numerous home options available. It seemed like pour-over was just getting going in the US last time I had the will and energy to look into a better brew, so I’ll be thrilled to have something nicer than my little Y2K era Krupps grinder (though the tiny beast is still kickin’, haha), and slowly move into a variety of quality home brewing options, especially as winter approaches.
Well, damn. I did not expect to see the most attractive thing ever, tonight. There’s a lot of talent, skill, and silliness to unpack in that photo.
Shit. Does that goes for ladies, too? Cause I might need to have a long talk with myself. Can it work that way? Can I instantly give myself another level of beautiful existential pain, like my bi friends?
Mannnnnn, every time I see one of these, I feel like I’m really missing out by not being bisexual. Damn. Guess I’ll buy more books! Anyone want some tea or an iced coffee? You doing okay? Need anything? I’ll totally run out in the rain, to get whatever you could possibly need to make your life better, if only for a moment. Really, I’m offering.
After the decades of abuse from my mother, whom I only learned to start breaking away from at 30, and still, just yesterday had a pacing conversation to myself! with her haunting voice, of what I might have to do if faced with ever speaking with her again…
This example is the only kind of response. Even if just to myself.
I didn’t know I needed to see something so simple as a comic to help when she dominates my head, and I think I’m gonna cry a bit now. Fuck you, mom. I’m finally learning to enjoy being alive, without you in my life.