"I was layin' out there for two damn hours before anyone came to check on me! Heat stroke, it turns out. Just as well it wasn't a stroke stroke, I'd be dead."
Struwwelpeter. We had an English copy handed down by my grandfather. It's insane.
Example: "Die gar traurige Geschichte mit dem Feuerzeug ("The Very Sad Tale with the Matches"): A girl plays with matches, accidentally ignites herself and burns to death. Only her cats mourn her."
-- pay for a large residence and security on the outskirts, then stay inside. Use disguises/body doubles when going out.
So ... you can everything you want, except sponteneity? Or privacy, with all those staff hanging around. And there'd still be some douche tracking your private jet.
Last year my email address - initialslastname@gmail.com - was added to the group list for a bunch of old ladies in England. First I was advised of my spot on the flower roster for the church, then I got someone's holiday photos, a reminder that Gerald's birthday was on the 9th, a lovely eCard congratulating me on my wedding anniversary... on and on.
I tried deleting them but they kept coming, and I worried about all the cool stuff initialslastname was missing out on. I sent an email to the whole group saying stop it & got a heartfelt apology and promises to correct it, but the emails have kept on coming - they all have me in their address books now. If I wasn't so lazy it would be a good incentive to move fully to my proton address.
Ha ha, read this wonderful piece through thinking, sounds great but what would I ever make? And then omg, yarn winder. I'm a knitter, and my yarn winder is a plastic monstrosity. I mean I'm never going to do it myself, but there definitely is a market for beautifully machined yarn winders.
Oh dear. I was planning to visit Japan in the autumn. Guess I will give it a swerve. Maybe Korea then? I haven't flown anywhere since the Before Times and have a hankering for foreign travel.
It was partly because my parents forced me into a scholarship that was tied to teaching afterwards - I was entirely unsuited to being a teacher, but neither of them even attended high school, and to them being a teacher was the pinnacle of achievement. I was pretty good academically but university overwhelmed me, so between that and no incentive to succeed, I failed miserably, only passing a few courses. I ended up getting a professional qualification (not a degree) in my 30s and had a decent career.
Living in a squat for a few years showed me I would have made a fantastic electrian or plumber, but you had to have a penis for that for some reason.
But but but it saves users from doing "gymnastics with their eyes"!! Jaysus, what a load of bs.
I hate algorithms, they narrow everything down, desperate to squeeze you into a little box. FB knows how old I am, so while I'm stalking my nieces it shows me ads for incontinence pants, tea towels and comfy shoes. It became a complete turn off with Netflix, it's part of the reason I cancelled. Don't miss it.
I'm on a combo binge. Recently I read an obituary for CJ Sansom, a writer of historical detective fiction. I'd never heard of him, but the books sounded good so I started reading them. Next thing I see there's a TV series, Shardlake (Disney+), so now I'm watching that. Pretty well done, and the lead actor is great. (On to the third book in the series now.)
Where I'm from it's called "squeezing the lemon". Mash that pedal! Ha ha. The best bit is when you catch up with them stopped at the next set of lights.
I my (extensive) cookie experience, double chocolate usually means the same amount of chips, but the dough part is also chocolate flavoured. Hard to tell in this instance, but the "double" cookies may be a shade darker.
"I was layin' out there for two damn hours before anyone came to check on me! Heat stroke, it turns out. Just as well it wasn't a stroke stroke, I'd be dead."