Talk about your day thread

[dimejinky99]

“Of all the arts, Music is the most powerful. Because of this.
Music. Is the invisible sound which releases the obscure emotions of the heart. “

Elf music?

Wanna know? I can send you a link

[spike]

“Of all the arts, Music is the most powerful. Because of this.
Music. Is the invisible sound which releases the obscure emotions of the heart. “

Elf music?

Wanna know? I can send you a link

No, it will somehow make even less sense.

[dimejinky99]

“Of all the arts, Music is the most powerful. Because of this.
Music. Is the invisible sound which releases the obscure emotions of the heart. “

Elf music?

Wanna know? I can send you a link

No, it will somehow make even less sense.

Why?

You’re dumber than you were yesterday?
You’re in the right place.

[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.

[Monkey_Driven]

Did something to the wheel of my car, or maybe the suspension, getting over the giant snow berm in my driveway. Will have to bring it to the shop now.

Skied. We’re getting dumped on this year and I’m putting some newish gear through some steady reps. Big growth year for me on the slopes; I had plateaued for a bit so these are some notable improvements in maybe the last five years? Moving faster, tighter, more confident.

I stopped at the halfway point of the day to do some homework at the lodge. My skis were leaned against my car while getting my boots off and they fell over and scraped the shit out the paint. Then I watched my kid go off some little ski jumps.

Listened to some NPR on the drive home. Got some Indian takeout. Sportsball. Monkey Driven dunked on me in the NFL thread. Started Charlotte’s Web with my daughter.

Extremely good Sunday.

What do you think has contributed to your growth on the slopes?

[spike]

Did something to the wheel of my car, or maybe the suspension, getting over the giant snow berm in my driveway. Will have to bring it to the shop now.

Skied. We’re getting dumped on this year and I’m putting some newish gear through some steady reps. Big growth year for me on the slopes; I had plateaued for a bit so these are some notable improvements in maybe the last five years? Moving faster, tighter, more confident.

I stopped at the halfway point of the day to do some homework at the lodge. My skis were leaned against my car while getting my boots off and they fell over and scraped the shit out the paint. Then I watched my kid go off some little ski jumps.

Listened to some NPR on the drive home. Got some Indian takeout. Sportsball. Monkey Driven dunked on me in the NFL thread. Started Charlotte’s Web with my daughter.

Extremely good Sunday.

What do you think has contributed to your growth on the slopes?

[daft twat]

My oldest son has a friend who fancies himself an elite athlete. He, therefore, doesn’t eat the free school lunch, instead opting to bring a high protein meal from home. A true bro, though, he still gets his free lunch every day and rotates who gets free “doubles.” My son and his lunch pin connected to our bank account gets doubles whether it’s his turn or not.

Tonight at dinner I said that it feels like the automatic schoolcafe withdrawal is getting more frequent. My son said, “Yeah, it’s black history month so only Tavion, Patrick, and Josh are taking turns on the free doubles. Today it was Tavion.”

We were dying. These kids have all been friends basically their whole lives. My son is an academic dipshit. But I asked, “What happens in March?” and he deadpanned, “Oh, it goes back to the whites for the rest of the year.” The sense of humor encourages me about him. The friendship encourages me about the future. The kids are alright.

[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.

[VinylGuy]

Just arrive to Santiago de Chile. I love it here but I haven’t been since maybe 2017. Looking forward to a great week.

[BurtReynolds]

Bartender at this Mexican joint kinda has an Ana de Armas thing going on.

[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.

[doug rr]

ice deportation?

[Rangi Guy]

Went back to Jiu Jitsu last night for the first time in ages - I feel sore today, and my broken toe is throbbing some....

[Bi_3]

My prompting skills need some work

[BurtReynolds]

My prompting skills need some work

Stop spying on me.

[spike]

Bearl Jam

[dimejinky99]

Just arrive to Santiago de Chile. I love it here but I haven’t been since maybe 2017. Looking forward to a great week.

Keep us updated!!
Hope to go soon.
Have a great trip!

[E.H. Ruddock]

My prompting skills need some work

Whichever AI can finally get hands right on humans will rule them all

[96583UP]

lotta stomach pains

might have a norovirus

[Monkey_Driven]

lotta stomach pains

might have a norovirus

I had it earlier in the week. Would not recommend.