Lots of fabrication in this story
I mean, that was the point. Previous poster imagined a world. I imagined another one.
As for the Asian kid - one grain of rice at a time. Boiling water in a lot of tiny containers. It ended up being surprisingly efficient, save for a mild case of carpal tunnel syndrome.
I was hoping to see this higher up. It’s not everyday that truth hits you like a ton of bricks, and this needed to be said.
When I was 16 I lived in a small village. It had the charm of country life, but it also had some off-putting characters. Harry, the town butcher, was an extremely right-wind, religious conservative, and a racist. Sarah, the priest’s mistress, never had kids and couldn’t stand them. And then there was Leah. She was Sarah’s sister’s daughter and I had a huge crush on her, except I didn’t even know it at the time because I wasn’t aware a girl could feel that way about another girl.
Anyway, I could write for hours about small town life, about how my friends were the only thing that got me through the day, about how I fell in love and out of love within the same date because the other person was telling me how they rescued a cat just to drop the other shoe - they rescued it from a black couple. I could tell you about racism and classism, about religion and how it turned the entire village against my parents, I could tell you about the time a young Asian child was forced to boil rice for the whole village because “it’s in his blood”, how his mother wanted to fight it but ended up cheering for the crowd that locked him in old mister Miller’s house for the night with just 20 bags of rice and a pair of drum sticks to serve as chopsticks. I could tell you about the Mexican family who once removed all their clothes and set them on a rope to dry in the town square and proceeded to sunbathe because they didn’t understand why people were saying their backs were wet. I could tell you about the Eastern European mobster who cut off two of my grandma’s fingers when she couldn’t pay for some cocaine, or the British “explorer” who came in and wanted to buy the town and put his name everywhere but he could only pay with some pictures of an old lady. Or I could tell you about when the Arab family moved next door so we all slept in shifts in my house because my parents were afraid of terrorists, until Harry the butcher carved “Mohammed” into a pig and left it on their lawn.
I know racism, I lived it all my life. So I could sit here and say a lot of things, but I think the previous poster has demonstrated well enough how you can just sit there and imagine shit and post it on the internet and all of a sudden it becomes true.
Is it that they’re less left leaning? Cause when you put the names of the candidates there (Obama vs Harris), it just sounds like a weaker candidate that didn’t move their base as much.
Every week you gotta:
Every few weeks you gotta:
Every few months you gotta:
Add a regular 8h job on top, add commitments (visit for someone’s birthday, go out with friends etc), add some hobbies (gaming? Rock climbing? Whatever floats your boat, it still takes time)…
I would burn out faster doing all this shit than postponing my cleaning until someone visits. I try to weave in some chores between the essential stuff, but it always adds up and I need to spend a weekend catching up.
Cât and lion are different species, traffic cone and butt plug could very well be the same plastic.
Hey you seem pretty knowledgeable so I’m gonna just ask - if these types of events happen regularly in earth’s atmosphere, why build particle colliders at all? Is it just to have control over when they’re triggered and to be able to observe the results? If so, wouldn’t it help to just launch more satellites that can observe when these things happen in the atmosphere? Sorry for the dumb questions, I’m very much a layman.
And then they take 2h to get your food, you find the waiter’s entire ponytail in it, and you’re yelled at if you don’t tip 50%? Idk man, some restaurants get bad reviews for service because they have bad service. And having bad service detracts from the experience of going out to eat.