Things That Amuse You

[J. Barron DeJong]

Sportscaster on TNT asking Ovechkin how they celebrate Thanksgiving in Russia.

I think the new tradition is shooting a few dozen missiles into Ukraine.

[bonewrenched]

It's Saturday night, and we're a bottle of wine in and realize we don't have any eggs for breakfast. My toddler is pretty dead set on scrambled eggs every morning (the three of us eat 9), so it's not really an option.

Come to find out that doordash does grocery deliveries, and despite having a full list of other things we order only the eggs. The driver rolls up and it hits me that dropping off 4 dozen eggs at 7pm on a Saturday night is probably pretty amusing.

[~mikey b]

agreed



amuzeballz

[MakersTeleMark]

A dozen eggs, amuses me. Along with 9 of them, and how many pieces of bacon.

Along therewith the price that I paid for my favorite eggs today. $8. That's bs, but it's winter, and the one's I know aren't popping to any gullivar.

There are many options. I'm sorry, not sorry that your plight does not amuse me, but I will be amused nonetheless by your idiocy.

How tight is that wrench? That is reaaaalyy amusing.

[~mikey b]

a toddler would probably eat a dozen scrambled eggs if you let ‘em

[MakersTeleMark]

a toddler would probably eat a dozen scrambled eggs if you let ‘em

O'dog is a big boy.

[bonewrenched]

a toddler would probably eat a dozen scrambled eggs if you let ‘em

She fucking would, little monster. I guard mine with hot sauce and the promise of "TOO SPICY"

[MakersTeleMark]

a toddler would probably eat a dozen scrambled eggs if you let ‘em

Self admit: I bankrupted my mother's tip stash (she was a career waitress who came from Naples) and ate an entire pound of boars head roast beef sammies that I made every morning for 2 years, and I still wrestled at 88 lbs. Of course she knew I was stealing from her I suppose. But I was strong AF. I pressed my clothes every day either at 10, or midnight, or right early in the morning before I left.

She got home at 3ish talked to me in my sleep when she got home, Dad left at 4:45, I left as close to 6 as I could. Completely opposite schedules while my sister did the 9-5.

And my voice didn't change, still did my ballet 3x 3 hours per week until I was in college, played trumpet too, HEY!! Gloated over an adam's apple, never got one or wisdom teeth, but my voice did sink when I turned 22'ish.

I started young and got out early (college in at 17 out at 20), but I didn't break 100 till I was in my mid 20's. I'm 5'9", thanks Irish dad who was 6' 4". Mom was the short plumpy Italian. Sorry twin sis. She dealt with thin hair, bad teeth, and 3 kids. Not my problems. Especially the db husband/first boyfriend ever.

But slather on the mayo, and black pepper, and let's go skiing.

Dad bod: I'm now at an IPA weight of 145. It's weird knowing that one through hike would take me down that hard, but I now invest in clothing that keeps me not freezing my balls off. Maybe that's why I tele and drink beer. I was 93 when I got off the AT, I've been in climbing fighting weight at 125. Add a couple decades and the pounds definitely add up. I think I'm at 139 or 143 depending on what I shit or cook. I still feel not in fighting shape. I feel in listening to perspectives, having tea, quitting caffeine and pondering a solution that matters shape. I'll take some weight for that all day long. And some BP meds. I don't know how those crept in. Probably my brain.

But to be completely honest, it's just the beers, cigs, instability, and a metric shitton of stress. I am brutally honest with myself and my doctor. I implore you to be also. We all make our own decisions and live with them. I have not a soul in this world that gives a fuck or that I have to take care of. But, it is nice waking up every day, despite.

My life every day amuses me. For serious. Every day. I feel grateful for not succumbing to radical tendencies of all types and taking it all in relative moderation with thought.

And "bonewrenched", send me a pm with your address. I've been saving a kid friendly hot sauce bottle from my last batch that I will gladly gift to you for the work you are doing. Not joking. That way you can do Daddy sauce and hers. That would make me very happy, and her too. I remember my pallet at that age. One red chili flake down the throat in a white clam sauce and I'd be grabbing my tongue jumping around the kitchen like a 4 alarm.

[~mikey b]

you’re too young to be an old fart

[riser4]

you’re too young to be an old fart

Lulz

[riser4]

She fucking would, little monster. I guard mine with hot sauce and the promise of "TOO SPICY"

Yup. Those days are behind me but I remember them fondly. However, as teens they also eat a fuck ton.

[Core Shot]

Self admit: I bankrupted my mother's tip stash (she was a career waitress who came from Naples) and ate an entire pound of boars head roast beef sammies that I made every morning for 2 years, and I still wrestled at 88 lbs. Of course she knew I was stealing from her I suppose. But I was strong AF. I pressed my clothes every day either at 10, or midnight, or right early in the morning before I left.

She got home at 3ish talked to me in my sleep when she got home, Dad left at 4:45, I left as close to 6 as I could. Completely opposite schedules while my sister did the 9-5.

And my voice didn't change, still did my ballet 3x 3 hours per week until I was in college, played trumpet too, HEY!! Gloated over an adam's apple, never got one or wisdom teeth, but my voice did sink when I turned 22'ish.

I started young and got out early (college in at 17 out at 20), but I didn't break 100 till I was in my mid 20's. I'm 5'9", thanks Irish dad who was 6' 4". Mom was the short plumpy Italian. Sorry twin sis. She dealt with thin hair, bad teeth, and 3 kids. Not my problems. Especially the db husband/first boyfriend ever.

But slather on the mayo, and black pepper, and let's go skiing.

Dad bod: I'm now at an IPA weight of 145. It's weird knowing that one through hike would take me down that hard, but I now invest in clothing that keeps me not freezing my balls off. Maybe that's why I tele and drink beer. I was 93 when I got off the AT, I've been in climbing fighting weight at 125. Add a couple decades and the pounds definitely add up. I think I'm at 139 or 143 depending on what I shit or cook. I still feel not in fighting shape. I feel in listening to perspectives, having tea, quitting caffeine and pondering a solution that matters shape. I'll take some weight for that all day long. And some BP meds. I don't know how those crept in. Probably my brain.

But to be completely honest, it's just the beers, cigs, instability, and a metric shitton of stress. I am brutally honest with myself and my doctor. I implore you to be also. We all make our own decisions and live with them. I have not a soul in this world that gives a fuck or that I have to take care of. But, it is nice waking up every day, despite.

My life every day amuses me. For serious. Every day. I feel grateful for not succumbing to radical tendencies of all types and taking it all in relative moderation with thought.

And "bonewrenched", send me a pm with your address. I've been saving a kid friendly hot sauce bottle from my last batch that I will gladly gift to you for the work you are doing. Not joking. That way you can do Daddy sauce and hers. That would make me very happy, and her too. I remember my pallet at that age. One red chili flake down the throat in a white clam sauce and I'd be grabbing my tongue jumping around the kitchen like a 4 alarm.

Shouldn’t this be in the get drunk post as much as you can thread?

[bonewrenched]

Self admit: I bankrupted my mother's tip stash (she was a career waitress who came from Naples) and ate an entire pound of boars head roast beef sammies that I made every morning for 2 years, and I still wrestled at 88 lbs. Of course she knew I was stealing from her I suppose. But I was strong AF. I pressed my clothes every day either at 10, or midnight, or right early in the morning before I left.

She got home at 3ish talked to me in my sleep when she got home, Dad left at 4:45, I left as close to 6 as I could. Completely opposite schedules while my sister did the 9-5.

And my voice didn't change, still did my ballet 3x 3 hours per week until I was in college, played trumpet too, HEY!! Gloated over an adam's apple, never got one or wisdom teeth, but my voice did sink when I turned 22'ish.

I started young and got out early (college in at 17 out at 20), but I didn't break 100 till I was in my mid 20's. I'm 5'9", thanks Irish dad who was 6' 4". Mom was the short plumpy Italian. Sorry twin sis. She dealt with thin hair, bad teeth, and 3 kids. Not my problems. Especially the db husband/first boyfriend ever.

But slather on the mayo, and black pepper, and let's go skiing.

Dad bod: I'm now at an IPA weight of 145. It's weird knowing that one through hike would take me down that hard, but I now invest in clothing that keeps me not freezing my balls off. Maybe that's why I tele and drink beer. I was 93 when I got off the AT, I've been in climbing fighting weight at 125. Add a couple decades and the pounds definitely add up. I think I'm at 139 or 143 depending on what I shit or cook. I still feel not in fighting shape. I feel in listening to perspectives, having tea, quitting caffeine and pondering a solution that matters shape. I'll take some weight for that all day long. And some BP meds. I don't know how those crept in. Probably my brain.

But to be completely honest, it's just the beers, cigs, instability, and a metric shitton of stress. I am brutally honest with myself and my doctor. I implore you to be also. We all make our own decisions and live with them. I have not a soul in this world that gives a fuck or that I have to take care of. But, it is nice waking up every day, despite.

My life every day amuses me. For serious. Every day. I feel grateful for not succumbing to radical tendencies of all types and taking it all in relative moderation with thought.

And "bonewrenched", send me a pm with your address. I've been saving a kid friendly hot sauce bottle from my last batch that I will gladly gift to you for the work you are doing. Not joking. That way you can do Daddy sauce and hers. That would make me very happy, and her too. I remember my pallet at that age. One red chili flake down the throat in a white clam sauce and I'd be grabbing my tongue jumping around the kitchen like a 4 alarm.

Hell yeah, for the hot sauce and the story. PM sent.

[~mikey b]

yeah I’ve got a super flavorful mild sauce she might like too

[riser4]

[PB]

I'm not seeing Mary Magdalene's face, so ......?

[bonewrenched]

yeah I’ve got a super flavorful mild sauce she might like too

I won't say no to any suggestions or donations!

[riser4]

I'm not seeing Mary Magdalene's face, so ......?

My wife decided that she wanted the smooth peanut butter to have some crunch and apparently extra nutrition. However, only on half of it.

[~mikey b]

I won't say no to any suggestions or donations!

send me your mailing address

[bonewrenched]

send me your mailing address

Done!

You guys rock

[riser4]

[skaredshtles]

Looks familiar.

[Core Shot]

Fucking pussies.

I’ve never used ignore.

Snowflakes.

Trg isn’t a safe space.

[Danno]

Fucking pussies.

I’ve never used ignore.

Snowflakes.

Trg isn’t a safe space.

In real life, do you listen to every goober that you come across? If there's an asshole at work, do you go to his office just so you can hear what he has to say on every topic? Why is ignoring someone somehow indicative of being a "pussy" or a "snowflake"? Why is using the internal ignore -- glossing over the posts of the goobers and assholes -- somehow indicative of being strong while using the software ignore somehow unacceptable? That's just a clown take. Which I guess isn't surprising.

[skaredshtles]

In real life, do you listen to every goober that you come across? If there's an asshole at work, do you go to his office just so you can hear what he has to say on every topic? Why is ignoring someone somehow indicative of being a "pussy" or a "snowflake"? Why is using the internal ignore -- glossing over the posts of the goobers and assholes -- somehow indicative of being strong while using the software ignore somehow unacceptable? That's just a clown take. Which I guess isn't surprising.

Hey - quite quoting that moran!