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Shagnanigans |
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He came back from France with wonderful stories about wiping his ass.
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Lila Fowler |
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Maybe the Splinterverse *is* the final frontier . . . |
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CBRetriever |
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I don't think I need lessons in ass wiping
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Bernard Wrangler |
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hai, vegaz.
Zeep
Reincarnic and nickname of Survivor Sucks admin XenaPrincess Aldav is madly in love with her. Contrary to popular opinion, does not wear a bronze breastplate, viking helmet, etc. Longtime admin at Survivor Sucks board. Firmly believes food should not jiggle. Humorless Cow!! <3 Will most likely edit this entry for typos and spelling.
Dullest and least funny of the OT admins. So anal retentive, nothing goes out or in. An obsessive-compulsive bore. |
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Shagnanigans |
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It wasn't a lesson so much as it was a memoir. It was like Angela's Asses.
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CBRetriever |
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I musta missed that opus
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Lila Fowler |
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I WOULD LIKE TO SUBSCRIBE TO THE SPLINTERVERSE GAZETTE PLS. |
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Sloansalad |
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I was wondering why Bernie asked for that link.
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Bernard Wrangler |
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I am here to serve.
Bernardwrangler
Sucks OT poster. Used to post as Ithinkyoureweird. RL hubby to RedundantlyRedundant. Generally agreeable. Considered incredibly good-looking by posters who see his pic. Probably wears aftershave. Favorite color? Lime-green. Beyond tedious Wears boxer briefs, not tighty whities. Has been known to go commandoTerminator. |
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Lila Fowler |
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:: snerk ::
THAT must hurt the old ego |
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X Bilkis |
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"It hasn't really been tough," Gordon told Robinson. "After going through what I did last summer, this was easier and it came pretty
quickly. I am very happy with my decision."
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OuijaBroad |
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Vegazguy wrote: I bet it was achieved with the Poopy Time Funshapes Jumbo pack! |
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Lila Fowler |
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Sometimes I like to think of Weems as a young Garrison Keillor, who just kind of made a few too many bad decisions.
It's time to stand up for homemade potato saladCome on, people, it's not that hard to make. Do you really think we can't tell the difference?By Garrison Keillor Jul. 01, 2009 | I walked the length of the westbound Lake Shore Limited as it left Albany last Sunday, six crowded coaches, and counted three Twitterers and a couple of phone texters, six laptoppers (two of whom were watching movies), four video gamers, and 27 people reading books. Books made of paper! Turning the pages with their fingers one by one, reading the lines left to right, just as people have done for hundreds of years. Ain't that something? I didn't lean down for a close look at the books they were reading -- I was not brought up to do that -- so perhaps bodices were being ripped and stalkers were stalking and meteorites were heading straight for Earth, but no matter. Books were being read! Along with live theater, monogamy and the bald eagle, the paper book has been despaired over and its demise freely predicted, and yet, among people heading west, it seems to be the diversion of choice. So Dickens and Jane Austen and Flannery O'Connor are not dead yet. And the bald eagle is coming back, along with the gray wolf and the Yellowstone grizzly -- though less attractive endangered species such as the glassy-eyed smelt and the orangefoot pimpleback mussel and various arachnids are still in doubt -- and theater seems as alluring as ever, judging by the number of young New York waiters with large personalities. And as for monogamy, it's there, waiting to be rediscovered. So let me speak up for an endangered menu item this Fourth of July weekend and that is homemade potato salad. When the family meets this weekend to hobnob and burn burgers, the family member assigned to bring the potato salad is likely going to walk in with a couple of gallon plastic buckets of yellowish muck bought at a convenience store, the price stickers still on them, and set them down on the table with no apology whatsoever. Or, if they have more disposable income, they'll bring paper containers full of brownish muck from the natural organic sustainable united empathetic co-op. If you bring garbage to share with your family, the least you can do is tell a lie and say, "I couldn't make the potato salad myself because I am bipolar and my lover left me and my dog has leukemia and I have an oozing leprous sore on my mixing hand." It is not that hard to make potato salad, people. Take half an hour away from your Facebook page and do the job right. Boil some eggs, chop the celery and chives and green onions, boil the potatoes, make your mayonnaise, maybe toss in a little sour cream, use plenty of dill, and sprinkle paprika on top. The eerie-yellow store-bought stuff in the tubs was manufactured at Amalgamated Salad in Houston by undocumented 12-year-olds from the hills of Michoacan. Worse, it is teaching our children that accomplishment doesn't matter. A child served yellow slop from a bucket is being told that it's OK to plagiarize a term paper off the Internet just so long as it's poorly written. What if Thomas Jefferson had been too busy hobnobbing to write the Declaration of Independence so he just downloaded a bunch of stuff he found Googling "independence" and coming up with stuff about indolence, pendants, incontinence, but hey, close enough, and he pasted it together and they all signed it and went out to a movie? Not good. When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the potato salad that has connected them with another, they will do it, believe me, so why insult us? Just because we're polite, do you think we can't tell the difference? Are we demented? Does this not seem self-evident to you? Attend to the details. Teach your children manners. Write cogent paragraphs. Drive carefully. And make a good potato salad, one with some crunch, maybe accompanied by a fried drumstick with crackly skin -- the humble potato and the stupid chicken, ennobled by diligent cooking -- and is this not the meaning of our beautiful country, to take what is common and enable it to become beautiful? All our beautiful young people -- so diligent and focused and powered by hope -- you can't tell me those kids didn't have parents who took time to chop the celery and onions and experiment with the ratio of mayo to mustard to achieve a potato salad that is worthy of our Lives, our Fortunes, and our sacred Honor. |
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Lila Fowler |
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Maybe also a sprinkling of Cary Tennis ETA: Cary when he was still an alcoholic.
Did you know that Weems called *me* "very weird"??? I mean, WTF?!? Is that a cue to up the meds, or stick with the downward spiral??? Nobody here ever makes things clear :\ My mother is crazy -- what can I do?She has persecution complexes and paranoia, which is why she won't see a doctor!Dear Cary, My mother is a strong-willed, street-smart woman who is ascending into the madness of a mental illness. I do not know how to "save" her. I read your previous post to someone that sometimes you have to "detach with love." This is where I am at now, but I feel it is the wrong thing to do. See, my mother has a persecutory delusions. She firmly, fully believes that people in the city she lives (where she was born and raised) are out to get her, in a real sense. She is convinced that television shows are about her -- where "buzz words" and uttered phrases are a code for the city she lives in to pick up and use "at her." Movie titles are code names too -- people who innocently use a certain phrase have no idea that they have set off a maelstrom of anxiety and anger in her. What are they after? I ask her -- to which she replies, "They want me to apologize for being out there," or, "They are tired of me, and they want me to end it." She even thinks that my brother is getting beat up at school because the kids know who his mother is and they're trying to punish him for her. This persecution disorder started (or at least I became aware of it) when I was about 11 years old. It's getting out of control, and I feel like a selfish child letting her mother die without being dead. I feel I am mourning her death while she is still alive. I can't let her go on like this, and yet I don't know how to help her. My sister lives a thousand miles away. My brother is in high school, living with her, escaping when he can. I can only imagine what his life is like with her. What can I do, Cary? How can I carry on? How can I let her die silently, while she has so much life ahead of her? Crazy Mom's Daughter Dear Crazy Mom's Daughter, Your mother needs psychiatric evaluation. Whether you drive her to a psychiatric clinic to be evaluated, or persuade a clinical diagnostician to come to your house and see her, or get a social worker involved, or find some other method, it needs to be done. Someone trained in diagnosing mental illness needs to meet with your mom and render an opinion about what sort of mental illness she has and what the options are for living with it. Then the family will need to set up and maintain a program of care for her. And she will need to care for herself as well. She will need to be active in her own care. And of course she lives in a dense mesh of family. So whatever her problem is, it is the problem of many. Her husband sounds like a volatile person who may not be depended upon to help, who may be in fact more of a problem and an obstacle to recovery or stabilization than an ally. But it must be said that people do change; in the mesh of family, when some sane, stable element enters, sometimes others rally. Your dad may simply have only one way of dealing with what he feels to be a chaotic and unbearable situation; if your mother's condition can be improved, it may tend to improve everyone. Likewise, your brother, who is in high school, cannot be expected to run the household; he needs a stable environment in which to continue growing and studying. There are many things that will have to be dealt with one at a time. Although it is frightening, it is time to begin. That said, knowing what must be done and doing it are very different; in its general outlines your letter reaches me in a personal way. I have watched parents move from lucid to distant, strange and ultimately unfathomable depths, to private worlds off limits to their children, and I have noticed how long it takes children to grasp what is happening, and then how difficult and sometimes impossible it is, once what is happening becomes apparent, to deal with it in a forthright, sane and effective way. So I do not blame you if you feel unable to act. In dealing with family members who seem to need help but deny that they need it, we encounter obstacles not just of their making but of our own invention, because there is a terrible truth at the heart of their trouble that we can scarcely face. We will naturally find ways not to face it. We will encounter obstacles to action whose power we cannot foresee, and whose source we cannot understand, because we ourselves have blocked ourselves off from understanding the power and the source of these obstacles. What is in front of us seems nearly unbearable, yet it is also just the natural course of life, something that millions of people face every day. Likewise, these obstacles must be seen for what they are, or they can prevent us from doing what needs to be done, but they are also our friends in a way. They protect us from awful knowledge. We can feel gratitude for them even as we move them to the side of the road, knowing we must push on to see what is ahead. It is as though guards stand at these crossroads warning us, saying that our parents have deputized them to warn us not to go any farther. It is hard to countermand the authority of a parent when we still regard them as powerful. Often, though, we only remember the parent as powerful. In reality, when a parent has reached a point where he or she needs help, the parent is weak. We only imagine that dire consequences await us if we countermand the parent's commands. In reality, no consequences arise. The parent has no real power anymore. The parent is helpless. So we do what needs to be done. Why do we resist admitting that the parent has no real power anymore? Well, if the parent has no power then the parent can no longer save us. Knowing the parent is powerless means we are finally alone in the world. We are truly responsible for ourselves. So sometimes we prefer to believe that we still have to fear the parent, because that means the parent is still powerful and vital. In short, you feel something needs to be done but do not know how to go about it. I would go about it by contacting professionals. Learn as much as you can. And set up a program. It is a relief to have a clear program to follow. If you think of all the steps to follow, you might feel overwhelmed and incapable of action. The alcoholic, for instance, though legendarily complex of feeling and mind, must boil things down to simple procedures: Just for today don't take a drink, meet with another alcoholic, etc. Likewise you can boil things down to very simple procedures. So make a phone call today to a psychiatric clinic near your mother's home and speak with someone about the situation. Make an appointment. That you can do. You can take small steps. Keep taking small steps and stay on the road. I'll see you back here, on this corner, in about a week or so.
Last Edited By: Lila Fowler
07/02/09 3:02 PM.
Edited 1 times.
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Sloansalad |
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sometimes, I don't think of Weems at all.
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Onno |
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I had completely forgotten about "CRA"'s self authored entry
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Bernard Wrangler |
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1: There was a man in the land of Uz, whose name was Job; and that man was perfect and upright, and one that feared God, and eschewed evil.
2: And there were born unto him seven sons and three daughters. 3: His substance also was seven thousand sheep, and three thousand camels, and five hundred yoke of oxen, and five hundred she asses, and a very great household; so that this man was the greatest of all the men of the east. 4: And his sons went and feasted in their houses, every one his day; and sent and called for their three sisters to eat and to drink with them. 5: And it was so, when the days of their feasting were gone about, that Job sent and sanctified them, and rose up early in the morning, and offered burnt offerings according to the number of them all: for Job said, It may be that my sons have sinned, and cursed God in their hearts. Thus did Job continually. 6: Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan came also among them. 7: And the LORD said unto Satan, Whence comest thou? Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it. 8: And the LORD said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? 9: Then Satan answered the LORD, and said, Doth Job fear God for nought? 10: Hast not thou made an hedge about him, and about his house, and about all that he hath on every side? thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land. 11: But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face. 12: And the LORD said unto Satan, Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand. So Satan went forth from the presence of the LORD. 13: And there was a day when his sons and his daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother's house: 14: And there came a messenger unto Job, and said, The oxen were plowing, and the asses feeding beside them: 15: And the Sabeans fell upon them, and took them away; yea, they have slain the servants with the edge of the sword; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee. 16: While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, The fire of God is fallen from heaven, and hath burned up the sheep, and the servants, and consumed them; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee. 17: While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, The Chaldeans made out three bands, and fell upon the camels, and have carried them away, yea, and slain the servants with the edge of the sword; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee. 18: While he was yet speaking, there came also another, and said, Thy sons and thy daughters were eating and drinking wine in their eldest brother's house: 19: And, behold, there came a great wind from the wilderness, and smote the four corners of the house, and it fell upon the young men, and they are dead; and I only am escaped alone to tell thee. 20: Then Job arose, and rent his mantle, and shaved his head, and fell down upon the ground, and worshipped, 21: And said, Naked came I out of my mother's womb, and naked shall I return thither: the LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD. 22: In all this Job sinned not, nor charged God foolishly. |
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CBRetriever |
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I always wondered why god had it in for poor Job
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Bernard Wrangler |
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me too...let's find out.
1: Again there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the LORD, and Satan came also among them to present himself before the LORD. 2: And the LORD said unto Satan, From whence comest thou? And Satan answered the LORD, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it. 3: And the LORD said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil? and still he holdeth fast his integrity, although thou movedst me against him, to destroy him without cause. 4: And Satan answered the LORD, and said, Skin for skin, yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life. 5: But put forth thine hand now, and touch his bone and his flesh, and he will curse thee to thy face. 6: And the LORD said unto Satan, Behold, he is in thine hand; but save his life. 7: So went Satan forth from the presence of the LORD, and smote Job with sore boils from the sole of his foot unto his crown. 8: And he took him a potsherd to scrape himself withal; and he sat down among the ashes. 9: Then said his wife unto him, Dost thou still retain thine integrity? curse God, and die. 10: But he said unto her, Thou speakest as one of the foolish women speaketh. What? shall we receive good at the hand of God, and shall we not receive evil? In all this did not Job sin with his lips. 11: Now when Job's three friends heard of all this evil that was come upon him, they came every one from his own place; Eliphaz the Temanite, and Bildad the Shuhite, and Zophar the Naamathite: for they had made an appointment together to come to mourn with him and to comfort him. 12: And when they lifted up their eyes afar off, and knew him not, they lifted up their voice, and wept; and they rent every one his mantle, and sprinkled dust upon their heads toward heaven. 13: So they sat down with him upon the ground seven days and seven nights, and none spake a word unto him: for they saw that his grief was very great. |
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CBRetriever |
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from Slate's David Plotz's Blogging the Bible:
While not reading Job, I apparently developed a gross misconception about what it was. Like everyone with a pulse, I knew the basic outlines: God bets Satan-a gentleman's bet, no cash at stake-that His most upright servant, Job, will remain faithful even in the face of catastrophe. God and Satan afflict Job, and he endures patiently. Link to Blogging the Bible: Job |
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