Talk about your day thread

[dad]

Get a water pick, dad. Life saver.

I'm terrible at flossing, so I might look into this.

Thanks for the tip!

You won’t even have to cut down on the chia!

Your teeth sore?

Surprisingly, no. My biggest issue at the moment is getting used to my back teeth not touching when I bite down.

[spike]

I enjoyed the affirmative action approach at Target today. Next to every Spider-Man, there was a Black Panther.

[knee tunes]

Today I worked from home.

[Chris_H_2]

I enjoyed the affirmative action approach at Target today. Next to every Spider-Man, there was a Black Panther.

mid woke

[Bammer]

Snatch is a little overzealously interested in dad’s braces, no?

[dpupenya]

Snatch is a little overzealously interested in dad’s braces, no?

Prolly just a slow day in the john for snatch...

[Bi_3]

Snatch is a little overzealously interested in dad’s braces, no?

I thought we all agreed no kink-shaming.

[spike]

I'm online chatting with my internet provider to lower my bill, and suddenly my internet starts dropping out. Coincidence?

[wease]

I'm online chatting with my internet provider to lower my bill, and suddenly my internet starts dropping out. Coincidence?

No. A message from above telling you to drop them like a stone

[spike]

I'm online chatting with my internet provider to lower my bill, and suddenly my internet starts dropping out. Coincidence?

No. A message from above telling you to drop them like a stone

i have been meaning to check if there's a deal through Xfinity for dual households.

[VinylGuy]

Been visiting wineries all week. Damn if the wines in Mendoza aren’t the best.

Also did a few tours to some amazing places.

Today is the last day, so I’ll be around the city and buy wines.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[wease]

All right!

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[Bammer]

Last night we did a moonlight guided snowshoe. My kid held up longer than expected, but then my wife opted to carry her.

After my wife carried my spawn through the mountains, our hike ended at a fancy yurt. There three types of homemade sausages and sauerkraut, and s’mores.

We stayed in a hotel, my kid in a separate room with her grandmother. My wife and I made love at 530am. Today we will ski.

Extremely good start to the weekend.

Your next child will have quite the story to accompany his/her October birthday.

[dad]

Last night we did a moonlight guided snowshoe. My kid held up longer than expected, but then my wife opted to carry her.

After my wife carried my spawn through the mountains, our hike ended at a fancy yurt. There three types of homemade sausages and sauerkraut, and s’mores.

We stayed in a hotel, my kid in a separate room with her grandmother. My wife and I made love at 530am. Today we will ski.

Extremely good start to the weekend.

heck yeah, that sounds fun.

[spike]

After carrying a kid through snowy mountains, I bet she just laid there.

[wease]

Drove up to Louisville yesterday for the youngest’s cheer competition. Woke up in the hotel this morning to find a blizzard happening. When we checked yesterday before heading up is just a slight chance for rain showers. Gonna be a fun drive home this afternoon.

[tragabigzanda]

There is a wolf in me . . . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . . . a red tongue for raw meat . . . and the hot lapping of blood—I keep this wolf because the wilderness gave it to me and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fox in me . . . a silver-gray fox . . . I sniff and guess . . . I pick things out of the wind and air . . . I nose in the dark night and take sleepers and eat them and hide the feathers . . . I circle and loop and double-cross.

There is a hog in me . . . a snout and a belly . . . a machinery for eating and grunting . . . a machinery for sleeping satisfied in the sun—I got this too from the wilderness and the wilderness will not let it go.

There is a fish in me . . . I know I came from salt-blue water-gates . . . I scurried with shoals of herring . . . I blew waterspouts with porpoises . . . before land was . . . before the water went down . . . before Noah . . . before the first chapter of Genesis.

There is a baboon in me . . . clambering-clawed . . . dog-faced . . . yawping a galoot's hunger . . . hairy under the armpits . . . here are the hawk-eyed hankering men . . . here are the blonde and blue-eyed women . . . here they hide curled asleep waiting . . . ready to snarl and kill . . . ready to sing and give milk . . . waiting—I keep the baboon because the wilderness says so.

There is an eagle in me and a mockingbird . . . and the eagle flies among the Rocky Mountains of my dreams and fights among the Sierra crags of what I want . . . and the mockingbird warbles in the early forenoon before the dew is gone, warbles in the underbrush of my Chattanoogas of hope, gushes over the blue Ozark foothills of my wishes—And I got the eagle and the mockingbird from the wilderness.

O, I got a zoo, I got a menagerie, inside my ribs, under my bony head, under my red-valve heart—and I got something else: it is a man-child heart, a woman-child heart: it is a father and mother and lover: it came from God-Knows-Where: it is going to God-Knows-Where—For I am the keeper of the zoo: I say yes and no: I sing and kill and work: I am a pal of the world: I came from the wilderness.

[spike]

We woke to about an inch of unexpected snow, and it’s still coming down.