I would I’d it didn’t literally cost me jobs, plural. I’ve dealt with enough societal racial profiling and harassment, I don’t need it compounding with my gender to utterly shit on my life when I’m minding my own damn business.

And that applies just as much for women minding THEIR OWN damn business. Leave people be!

My proverbial beef isn’t the pointing out of how manny men are predators and that the risksfor women are non-zero; my problem more specifically is that the meme stacks handily on top of the already vexing racial profiling I deal with as a black man who’s had false allegations leveled in the past and lost jobs because of the weaponization of this fear. I have already spent damn near a half century being presumed some kind of feral Mandingo rape beast purely for existing while black. The presumption of interest in all of these women like a scene out of Kentucky Fried Movie gets really old and they get super vindictive when rejected.

Because some medical experts deem it a valid and valued preventative remedy for severe phimosis. While I don’t concur, my grandfather developed a case late in life that necessitated surgical remediation.

I definitely feel you on this one. I pretty mucj took my vocal chords and fucked off when BaconReader was killed off, but even before then my visits got drastically cut back when the ability to kill the app nag was removed from web interface in monile browsers. That’s what put me onto BaconReader in the first place.

There’s a lot, most of which I make anyway for sake of cost/volume ratios, but in no particular order…

Tomato paste (love to use, can’t be arsed to make my own), sriracha (like it but don’t use enough for the amount I make), waffles (don’t crave them nearly as much as I used to), scotch eggs (love 'em, hate making 'em), pickled asparagus (which really sucks because they’re so good), lotus root chips (maybe if I had a fry daddy, air fried just doesn’t do it), chicarrones (lots off local places make 'em fresh and cheap), horchata (same), meat pies (there’s a local Brit shop that sells 'em), falafel (lots of local vendors), jalebi (way too much work)…

A friend’s brother died. It was literally out of nowhere. And said friend is stick home with Covid - which isn’t what did him in, but still. Massive suckage.

Plus it didn’t even feel like Christmas this year. Visited family, but…I dunno. It just wasn’t, this year.

Used tp use it tp voice porn (gonewildaudo).

Obviously, spez fucked that up.

Good. fuck’em.

https://m.soundcloud.com/pine-jr/king-ramses-song-man-in-gauze

Mainly because I named my phone The Slab. It’s a Note 10+, and I did the whole notification profile as different Courage screams.

A combination of a ‘tradition’ of anti-intrllectualism and an education systen that has depreciated the value of critical thinking skillls.

Good. Fuck ElMu. ElMu sucks.

A comparatively mundane example, and possibly unremarkable to many, but I habe incredibly strong feelings about Spider Robinson’s “Callahan’s Crosstime Saloon” and “Callahan’s Lady” series. In particular, I read them during an extremely difficult point in my life, and the eponymous Law of Conservation of Pain and Joy completely changed me and my motivation in life.

I’m not sure what annoys me more - her stupidity, her open hypocrisy (wouldn’t care if she was an adulterous harlot if she wasn’t part of a party that is regressive and oppressive), or the fact that people value her for a combination of her appearance and deliberate offensiveness. She exhibits every behavior that Aviator wearing redneck truck video makers imagine ‘them Antifas’ do,being shrill and obnoxious and ‘disrespectful’, and they’re okay with it because they think it somehow ‘owns the libs’.

Wasn’t able to pull her bullshit when her Fuhrer was indicted in NYC - she needs more FAFO in her life.

Almost makes me wish there was a bot for this sentiment that I can’t be arsed to make.

“Good. Fuck that guy in particular.”

Following his name everywhere, posting that sentiment in response to every article detailing a difficulty or mishap. Because seriously.

The biggest shock/challenge to me is how many would explicitly be okay with the example set for their children or acceptance of such as a prospective in-law. You ask any of those chucklefucks if they’d let their daughter date a jackass like a Trump clone, they’d almost guaranteedly balk…unless they are the sort to admit they’re exactly the same. And those would be the sorts who would encourage their sons to act the same.

Perhaps the real tea is the shitposts we made along the way.

I don’t completely disagree, though the argument bears the advantage of hindsight. My suspicion is that the balance of the problem stemmed from the typical right wing obsession with the desire to obliterate the social safety net but the lack of pushback was due to an explicit underestimating of the scope of resulting fuckery - see also those black politicians who didn’t push back on Tough on Crime bullshit. People made bad calls out of panic and circumstances, and fixing the problems are far simpler onbpaper than in application, particularly because of those who see the situation as a feature, not a bug.

Well played - my proverbial cap is doffed.

This reminds me of a terrible moment from my past.

A then-girlfriend and I were at the local Wal-Mart (don’t judge, no better places were open and nearby) at around 11PM, before the Plague Times, when I had to hit the head. I go into the front restrooms to tap a kidney when I notice the stall past the urinals is occupied; no big deal. Then I noticed there were two sets of feet.

Both facing the same direction.

Being a non-bigot non-prufe, I do my business and go to wash my hands, when I hear a VERY loud ‘HNNNNNGH’ from the stall. Okay, yeah. No comment, just wash and GTFO.

I rendezvous with the girlfriend and she asks what’s with the look on my face. I start to lead her away before even considering the idea of explaining, and before we could get out of range, the explanation reveals itself. It turns out it was a young man, maybe late teens at oldes. Tow-headed, very blue eyes, EXTREMELY developmentally impaired. His guardian - I presume father - follows closely, looking utterly miserable. I didn’t say anything but the youth did anothoer grunting bellow and I unwittingly winced. The guardian also cringed, and we briefly made eye contact. He sorts shrank and dragged his ward off, who was loudly happy and oblivious.

They turned out to be regular odd-hours features. The kid would always wave excitedly if he saw us from the McDonald’s up front, and his guardian at least seemed relieved that we didn’t say anything unkind. Poor dude, was probably mortified by the prospect of a misunderstanding, especially here in the Texas hellscape. Not helped that the guardian had an extreme case of pedo-stash and rat-faced nebbishness.

I can only imagine how bad it could have been had it been anyone else.

When has Sporkfoot ever been useful?