Birth is pretty traumatic for babies to begin with.

You start off on this dark, warm room. Floating in a little bubble of fluid. All you’ve ever known.

Then all of a sudden the bubble is gone. It’s slowly draining. Either it popped on its own, or worse, somebody poked it with a crochet hook (I know the real medical tool isn’t a crochet hook but that’s legit what it looks like).

You’re squeezing headfirst through a hole smaller in size than a CD. And as soon as they see your smushy little skull they are putting a sticker on it to watch your heart rate.

It’s bright, it’s cold, it’s dry, and it’s loud. The complete polar opposite of everything you’ve ever known. You have to start breathing and then you can’t stop or you die, but nobody tells you that right away. Someone slaps your butt and someone else cuts your blood tube to mom.

No wonder they come out screaming.

And that’s a typical, uncomplicated birth. Let’s not talk about suction cups or forceps or cesareans.

If Harry would’ve just listened to Dumbledore here, and killed him like he asked, he would’ve received the elder wand long before the duel with old Voldy.

Neither I nor my JNCOs were as ready as I thought we were.

Axe never fails me tho.

Baggy pants are coming back and me and my JNCOs couldn’t be more ready.

Edit: anybody know how to get 20+ years of basement funk out of denim?

Edit 2: Axe seems to work just as well now as it did back then.

Edit 3: I’m not the same size I was in highschool.

So…a fence. It’s a fence.

Hasa diga eebowai.

Not if you’re Mormon!

Man I want to replace my 2 cycle backpack blower now.

My handheld (Ryobi 20v, meh) is alright for cleaning the driveway or the deck, but if I want to actually move leaves around the heard, it’s weak.

I love my ego mower and my ego snowblower (although I only had one season with it so far and I think we got a total of 3 inches of snow, so…yea). An ego backpack blower would be tits.

Edit: holy shit those are expensive. But man I keep having to dump oil/gas mix because I can’t possibly use it up before it goes bad and the blower loses all its gusto. But pre-mix is ridiculously expensive (but works sooo much better).

Like fresh fruit, or like syrup-infused canned fruit that just gets a little caramelized on the griddle. Cuz those both sound awesome.

HOLD THE DOOR

Take a load off, Fanny.

A rat in a cape.

Changing the first half of the stanza to rhyme really darkens it, though.

Sometimes the rules are just dumb.

Ooh I’ve got a couple fun “fucking bureaucracy” stories with the MA RMV and the RI DMV…

I bought a car in MA in 2014. Lived in RI at the time. Registered it in RI, paid RI sales tax at the dealer to register it. As one does. You cannot register a car without paying the tax.

Owned it for 4 or 5 years when I moved to MA. When I tried to register it here, they wanted me to pay sales tax on the original purchase price in MA. That’s the law, unless I could prove that I paid RI sales tax.

“It was registered in RI by the dealer, ipso facto I must’ve paid tax” wasn’t enough. I needed a form from the dealer.

I had my original paperwork all in a file at home. None of the documents were what they were looking for.

The dealership was still there, but had changed hands in the interim. I called every day for like 2 weeks trying to see if they could find the form. “We will give you a call in the morning”. I had to call them in the afternoon because they never called me.

Eventually, I’m pretty sure they just forged the form to get me to stop calling them. Whatever, it was enough to let me register the car without paying tax on a 6 year old car, based on the value of when it was 1 year old.

When I was a teen, my dad bought an old Datsun off some guy off Craigslist as a project car. It wasn’t even in one piece. It was immobile, hadn’t been started in years. Squirrel den. Came with about 3 pallets stacked a good 4-5 feet high full of parts.

It was an antique (by state law, 25 years old) when he bought it. I’m pretty sure when we bought it, the law was that cars over 10 years old could be registered without a title. I may be mistaken.

This car…did not have a title. And it was not at all road-worthy, so registering it was never on his radar.

We worked on it for quite a while over the course of…probably a couple of years. Eventually got it quite road worthy and street legal and looking quite good.

By the time we went to register it, though, the title was now needed. The bill of sale from prior to that law didn’t matter. Title was necessary.

The guy that he bought the car from was dead. Like, actually dead, we tried to track him down to see if possibly he had it, and all we could find was his obit.

So now he has this car with a couple of years of our blood, sweat, and tears in it…and the DMV is saying it can’t be driven.

I’m not really sure how he ended up resolving that. I think he just shared his story with enough of his circle (pre-Facebook) that he found “a guy who knows a guy” who helped him grease the right palms. Typical Rhode Island.

At least the government has to follow the rules they set, can’t wiggle out of payments like private enterprise.

Oh my sweet summer child.

I got a friend who has a Chinese word/character on his arm.

It is literally the Chinese mark for “arm”

For the life of me I can’t remember what it was supposed to be, just what it is. And that we told him he should get the rest of his body labeled in different languages and build on the theme.

It’s an obscure reference to the film Me, Myself, and Irene.

Originally I had said her name was Irene, but then I realized that wasnt the mom, that was Jim Carey’s love interest.

Missing man is a black dwarf.

Woman’s name is Layla.

Candy Cornius.

Sounds like my stripper name tbh.

Muffin is fucking crazy. Do not mess with her.

The car isn’t always the most expensive part of a collision.

Anything that requires one or more person to go to the hospital will dwarf the value of the car before the gurney gets all the way in the building.