Things you have an irrational hatred of

[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.

[Dev]

I have never seen banana sushi on a menu.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

You stick it up your butt

[Ello Sailor]

giving banana sushi a go

wtf spike

Did you miss the part about it being for his kid?

[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.

[Ello Sailor]

1. No

2. You could have Googled that

3. Give yourself an uppercut

[spike]

i'm hoping the banana flavor masks or at least harmonizes with the no nut butter flavor. she doesn't like that stuff much.

you use a flour tortilla, trag.

[tommy]

Points that expire

[spike]

i'm hoping the banana flavor masks or at least harmonizes with the no nut butter flavor. she doesn't like that stuff much.

you use a flour tortilla, trag.

This didn’t work. My kid is Bega or die.

[doug rr]

when you're pulling Kleenex out of the box and they decide to bunch up

[epilogue]

when you're pulling Kleenex out of the box and they decide to bunch up

RAGE

[tree_]

for suuuure, guys

[The Argonaut]

"I got bad service at a restaurant, here are the details" has got to be the worst form of storytelling

[Ello Sailor]

Joe List told a pretty funny story about a shitty $1200 dinner he and his friends had one time. Otherwise agree.

[lennytheweedwhacker]

Humans.

[Sloppy Dupree]

Is hatred of peopling backing into their parking spaces rational or irrational?

[epilogue]

We can't know until someone posts it here.

[Sloppy Dupree]

I hate it when people back into parking spots.

[doug rr]

Is hatred of peopling backing into their parking spaces rational or irrational?

it can be both..if you have to wait for them and they know it its rational..if they do it and you're waiting and the person doesn't really know what they're doing but waves and smiles at you and says sorry through the window it's irrational..I rarely back in with our car because I cant see out the back window because its dark and I still hate to look at the car camera telling me what to do

[Sloppy Dupree]

That makes sense.

What percentage of Cybertruck drivers are back-parkers? I’d say it’s pretty highs.