TMW earlier today in a shop with my wife and she suggests we look at stools for our new kitchen and I say that's disgusting and she asks why and I reply that she's suggesting we look at stool samples and get one of those sympathetic laughs, only to now realise that I may share some semblance of humour with another poster and one of us should be worried and my money's on Homer. That stool will be my writing spot as my old one by the kitchen table no longer exists and I've got to start all over again so whatever comes next is likely to be pure shit.
I suppose if I was a captain reaching out to nautical recruitment companies I could ask for seamen samples.
True story: my daughter went to community college with a boy named Peter Wang. His parents immigrated from China and wanted their first child to be born in America to have a good American name. He later joined the Navy and became Seaman Peter Wang.
Best one I knew was a Jack Koph. He was a childhood friend's grandfather who was probably born around 1910 or so when the expression wasn't a thing yet. He would joke that they named it after him for his prowess in that particular department.
I was at uni with a girl called Theresa Tickel. Needless to say she hated it when we called her Tess.
A few years ago, I worked with a Chinese immigrant named Bolong Dong. Everyone called him "Bo," and he really leaned into the rest of his name, let me tell you.
I have a Cambodian co-worker named Bonthouen, and he honestly doesn't mind the slew of nicknames our admin calls him, like 'Bon Quee-Quee'.
If i happened to be a burglar this could totally happen to me https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/cvg4kpv3p4zo "Italian burglar gets engrossed in good book, gets caught"
Heh. I like it -- especially the joke at the end (though if I was the thief, I'd steal the book and get away, obviously). But I'm not sure where the author got the 'literature' bit from. Hermes is the god of trade, wealth, luck, fertility, animal husbandry, sleep, language, thieves, and travel. Soooo ... maybe travelling playwrights (who used to travel in the Greek world to perform their plays) is the connection to literature? *shrug*
That moment when a hairball looks like a spider but the eyeballs peeping said hairball aren't wearing glasses so a tentative "are you creepy or just hair" poke with a toe results in a whoosh of relief that it is, indeed, just hair.
I think they're cool in a picture. I wish I weren't so scared of them, but alas. I do the hoppy yelp and run when I encounter them in my house.
I have a spider story. This was almost 20 years ago when I was a kid backpacking in Australia. I was working at this mango farm, and the toilet for the handful of workers they employed was in this dusty old garage beneath the owner's house. Had to go for a #2, did my business, and then flushed, as you do. Immediately this gigantic spider jumped up onto the toilet seat to avoid the flowing water. It must've been about 5-6 inches in diameter. Absolutely shook that it was there the whole time, inches away from my naughty bits.
Ugh. A couple of weeks ago I was passing under the hatch to the loft and a movement caught my eye. I looked up and spotted the front four legs of what must be the biggest wild spider I've ever seen this side of the equator, curled around the hatch like a ghastly hand trying to pull it open. I ran to get Henry, but it retreated back into the loft. It's still up there.
This. This is why I will never move to Australia even if you paid me 10,000 euros a month. 6 inches is about 15 centimeters. That's a ginormous spider worthy of the "hellspawn" nickname.
TMW you're growing herbs (like peppermint, etc.) on your balcony ... and everything gets eaten by pigeons and possums, but possums are protected, so you're not allowed to do anything about them ( ) ... so you start fantasising about growing psychedelic drugs instead, because it'd be interesting to see pigeons and possums whacked out on the wacky tobaccy. (Disclaimer: just a fantasy, honest. I'm not interested in being arrested)
Tmw: in a supermarket and the checkout woman gives you a dirty look, but she has to serve you and be nice to you as you've done nothing wrong at all. I'm in a wheelchair, I think she didn't like that. I mean, I don't either, but it's not for her to be mean
I adore opossums. I think they're precious little beings. The kind of ugly cute of pugs and tardigrades.
Uh, I'm not talking about opossums. I'm talking about possums, a common animal here in southeastern Australia. They are protected, but they love fruit trees and vegetable gardens, and if you leave your door open, they'll even raid your kitchen sometimes for things to eat. (Luckily they're folivores, so they won't eat your sausages ... hopefully. But they'll definitely stay away from pastries, bread, and biscuits. On the other hand, unprotected fruit bowls are fair game). So, I don't know what I'll do about my poor veggie and herb garden.
