Fogbow

When you have top fuel race cats, the throw rugs are frequently casualties.

.
Here's what they look like when we go upstairs to bed at night.

. Here's what we find in the morning.

.
.

No, actually, nobody snuck into the house and messed up the rugs. You kittehs always say that.

Do we need to get you steel toe boots for your dancing with barbells?

Nope, I got good sneakers. But that toe is just gonna be like that for a spell.

I am, once again, going to use my signature on Fogbow to examine the topic of swimming with sharks.

Of course, this is purely allegorical, as those who dare to make comments on the Intarwebz must also learn to swim with sharks. Further, there are several (many) rules for how to swim with sharks, and I will place each one in a weekly rotation. When you read my signature, you will see that the rule for each week clearly applies, not just to the rugged pastime of swimming with sharks, but to those who inject their opinions, however silly or disjointed, on websites like forums and news sites that allow comments and stuff. Yeah, this means you and me.

The (allegedly) original text, How To Swim With Sharks - A Primer, was (allegedly) written in the early 1800s by a poseur named (allegedly) Voltaire Cousteau. At the present time, you can find it at the University of Pennsylvania (PDF).

The most important rule you must follow, in shark infested waters or on the Intertoobz, is "Do not bleed." Those who cannot control their bleeding when injured have no business swimming with sharks, and those who cannot control their emotional responses when their delicate fee-fees have been wounded have no business posting their thoughts and opinions on the tubes of the Internet.

This was a lesson I learned long ago, on another forum in a distant galaxy, with John Thomas8 as my witness. The conservative right-wing loons on that site called me a faggot ten thousand times, but it didn't seem to change my sexual orientation even a little bit. They called me stupid until they got bored of calling me stupid (Narrator: They never got bored of calling him stupid), but the whole time I was reading and studying and getting smarter every day. I had ironclad irrefutable proof that nothing anybody ever said about me would ever actually affect my reality. So I stopped caring what any of them said, and I battled the right-wing loons and the birthers without any possibility of bleeding on the Internets. Between those years and the years I practiced criminal defense, I have a hide like a rhino.

But it wasn't easy or fun. It came as a result of many years of insults that I had to learn to simply ignore. 'Course, I spent many years living on the streets before going to law school, and had to be tough to survive. And law school will help toughen you up some, depending on who you are. Law students are merciless on each other, usually humorously but in a very pointed way, because we know we have to prepare for what's going to happen after we join the British Accreditation Registry and so forth.

I now gives you the Forward:

FORWARD
Actually, nobody wants to swim with sharks. It is not an acknowledged sport and it is neither enjoyable nor exhilarating. These instructions are written primarily for the benefit of those, who, by virtue of their occupation, find they must swim and find that the water is infested with sharks. It is of obvious importance to learn that the waters are shark infested before commencing to swim. It is safe to say that this initial determination has already been made. If the waters were infested, the naive swimmer is by now probably beyond help; at the very least, he has doubtless lost any interest in learning how to swim with sharks.

Finally, swimming with sharks is like any other skill: It cannot be learned from books alone; the novice must practice in order to develop the skill. The following rules simply set forth the fundamental principles which, if followed will make it possible to survive while becoming expert through practice.

Onward.

It is now final - Numbah One Son will attend NC State in the fall, and Numbah Two Son will be at the Dub again (UNCW, that is).

Foggy wrote: ↑Sun Feb 27, 2022 6:57 am So I highlighted my signature because that way it's visible on any board style, which is weird but whatevs. I am seriously loving Hexagon, except the smileys look ragged on the black background.

::VENT::
The ONLY things I don't love about Hexagon are the ragged smilies and how hard it is to read highlighted text because reading while on yellow or pink is really difficult. Initially, I thought it would be easy to select the text I wanted to read so that the white would show up more, but it's actually gotten more frustrating because it's too easy to accidentally hit the text I'm wanting to read and end up having to reselect it - usually multiple time if it's a long text. It would be great is Hexagon Reborn or Pro Silver Dark fix the problem, but I'm not holding my breath.
::END VENT::

I know a couple people have been very nice and started turning the text they're highlighting black so that no matter WHICH theme it's being read on, the text shows up very nicely contrasted against the background, and to those who are doing so THANK YOU SO VERY MUCH!!!!

Foggy wrote: ↑Fri Apr 08, 2022 8:34 pm It is now final - Numbah One Son will attend NC State in the fall, and Numbah Two Son will be at the Dub again (UNCW, that is).

Woot!!

Ol' Wifehorn: Is this our 25th anniversary?

Me: No, it isn't.

Ol' Wifehorn: What year did we get married? Wasn't it 1997?

Me:

Hay, at least she remembered the date this year (Easter Sunday is our 28th).

Congrats, you two!!

Congrats!!!!!!!!!

Congrats boss!

If I’d been married on Easter Sunday, I’d insist on chocolate bunnies for every anniversary.

Kriselda Gray wrote: ↑Tue Apr 12, 2022 8:16 am Congrats, you two!!

Congratulations!

Phoenix520 wrote: ↑Tue Apr 12, 2022 11:37 am If I’d been married on Easter Sunday, I’d insist on chocolate bunnies for every anniversary.

Me too, but in 1994 Easter was on April 3.

Congratulations!

Many happy returns, big guy! er, big bird?

Friday night, sometime when I was asleep, my toenail came off.


No, the bruised one. The new toenail grew enough underneath, and emerged prettier than any butterfly coming out of a cocoon, and I can stop doing Musical Asskicking barefoot, although I'll probably do it barefoot when I do it at home, because I like going barefoot. And there's no class at the gym today, because you know very well why, so I'll be working out in front of my Tee Vee downstairs.

It has risen!

My "BIRDS AREN'T REAL" bumper stickers got here!

Here's why that's bad news for Joe Biden:

Ol' Wifehorn has been delivered, together with accompanying accoutrements, into the waiting arms of Delta Airlines, headed to Seattle.

Our niece had a babby gurl. Ol' Wifehorn must see the babby, hold the babby, be with the babby. Returning on Monday WAY PAST MY BEDTIME but I probably have to go get her anyway.

Took a few shots of mist on a pond whilst returning to Leghorn Acres. Maybe take a look at them later.
Here's why that's bad news for Joe Biden:

Baby pics or it didn't happen!

We must rely upon ol' Wifehorn for photos, I'm not nearby.

Here's a photo of a pond near the Raleigh-Durham International Airport, taken on this glorious April morn.




.
Here's why that's bad news for Joe Biden.