Today's Document
Discoholic đȘ©
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
if i look back, i am lost
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Xuebing Du
ojovivo
Sweet Seals For You, Always
ellievsbear
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Jar Jar Binks Fan Club
noise dept.
Product Placement
romaâ
One Nice Bug Per Day
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đ©” avery cochrane đ©”
⣠Chile in a Photography âŁ
Noah Kahan
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@francesweyr
All these GLP1 advertisements are starting to give me a bad feeling. Theyâre really pushing it as the solution to weight control. So many times they will push something like that and then, after someone has made a fuckton of money off it, they come up with side effects and drastic consequences. It just makes me nervous.
Grandson was being a little shit to his mother, so I disconnected his tablet from the internet.
I have mixed feelings about this. Part of me thinks grannies are meant to be warm, fuzzy, and indulgent. Another part of me thinks itâs irresponsible to let him think he can get away with being an entitled asshole. Someone somewhere just might provide a more traumatic attitude adjustment if he doesnât correct course. Itâs our job, just like teaching them fire is âouchyâ before you let them play with the stove.
Grumpy Granny today.
IMO? Covid supply squeeze, plus GLP-1 Agonists are annihilating the snack food market AND the 'name brand' snack companies fucking around with shrinkflation in a recession where people are already incentivized to buy store brand stuff that at this point tastes the same because flavor science has exploded in the last 10 ish years. Pepsico's just been particularly stupid about it. Like really fucking stupid.
But now that a plan to bring prices down is in motion, new challenges have emerged that threaten to blunt its impact.
I remember when Doritos were $3-4 a bag
They seriously doubled the cost of a non-necessity and were surprised that people stopped buying as much?
There has grown up in the minds of certain groups in this country the notion that because a man or corporation has made a profit out of the public for a number of years, the government and the courts are charged with the duty of guaranteeing such profit in the future, even in the face of changing circumstances and contrary public interest. This strange doctrine is not supported by statute nor common law. Neither individuals nor corporations have any right to come into court and ask that the clock of history be stopped or turned back, for their private benefit. -Robert Heinlein
(When Heinlein is the one making the point...)
I can get knock off Doritos at Aldis for half that. They might not taste 100% the same, but they're more than halfway there.
Okay. Iâm going to tell you a story about my family.
For context, this happened in the early 1990s around the time that âWayneâs Worldâ was out. This movie was based on characters from Saturday Night Live who supposedly lived in the next town over because one of the writers knew the town. Absolutely none of the movie was filmed in this area. Iâm not saying it wasnât a good movie, just that it was obviously not a documentary.
My cousin, who lives and works in a dinky little town about 260 miles south of here, had to come up to Chicago for a seminar. She visited us while she was in the area. Before she started home, she asked me for directions to a station that sold diesel fuel for her car. Then she asked for directions to the diner from Wayneâs World because she wanted to see it in real life. I just looked at her in shock and asked âMelissa, why would you think this town has a diner with palm trees growing in the parking lot?â
That, dear reader, is the level of critical thinking and common sense my relatives down home still display today. Iâm so glad I moved up here. Iâd like to think I wouldnât be so dense, but maybe they canât help it because thereâs something in the waterâŠ..
Now, if youâll excuse me, Iâm off to snooze my cousins on Facebook. Again.
Well, itâs finally finished. It was a genuinely satisfying project. I present you Ankh Morpork in the guise of Google Maps.
<makes highly undignified squeeing noises>
Discworld Heritage Post
I finished the fourth season of âDarK Skiesâ last night. It was good, of course, the whole series is, but I felt a moment of compassion for the German assassin and Iâm not sure how I feel about that.
The Nazi grandpa with dementia was an interesting character. Horrible, but interesting. He reminded me of my own father. Dad grew up in a German/American community and while he definitely was not on the same side for World War Two, he had some of same attitude and mannerisms., especially after his âtrolley left the tracksâ. Iâve heard all the platitudes about how frightening it must be for a dementia patient to lose control, but sympathy is easier to come by when youâre not dealing 24/7 with someone who decides youâre the problem and is still capable of incredible spite. Her Opa was both pitiful and scary and she was trapped. That moment when she came upon him wandering in the road while she was driving was just too easy to sympathize with.
That was an unsettling moment
I was recommended FDGard for my Functional Dyspepsia, but itâs not the easiest stuff to find around here. I thought Iâd check on a site and this was my search result.
âYes, we have it with three day shipping, and if weâre out of stock, may we recommend the dog medicine instead?â Nothing ridiculous about this computer search, trust the computer.
It just hit me funny, I guess
TA DA!
Still not completely finished. The trim isnât done and there is a custom door coming for the area on top of the pantry.
Iâm really pleased with the bit of counter with the mixer. That is 31 inches of reclaimed workspace. A long time ago there was a dishwasher there. After it died we replaced it with a 24 inch counter with a skinny storage cart pushed in the gap. The microwave sat on top. Now we have the 24 inch cabinet, a 7 inch cabinet with pull out spice shelves and a place for my mixer where I can actually work with dough.
How many of the things you want are things you really need?
It is not my intent to be condescending, but I look at advertising in our society and I am honestly saddened.
The travel industry, for example. When I was a kid, it was pretty much assumed that âvacationâ meant a week within driving distance. Maybe you stayed with family, maybe it was a cheap motel or a cabin at the lake. Definitely no jetting off to Europe or multiple days at theme parks. Iâve been to the Disney parks. Theyâre nice enough, but also crowded and exhausting; and that was before tickets were so expensive. Now we are bombarded with ads showing how much fun weâre missing and how deprived our children are if we donât blow thousands of dollars on this experience.
Weddings are the same. Young girls are indoctrinated that a wedding is supposed to involve thousands of dollars spent on clothing and venue. I recognize the importance of feeling like a princess on your special day, but why should you sacrifice the equivalent of a down payment for a house to do it? The âspecialâ comes from feeling your best and being surrounded by people who care about you. Maybe the dress doesnât cost as much as a decent used car. Maybe the cake your aunt decorates doesnât look like a bit of fairytale architecture, maybe the venue is rented tents in your backyard, and maybe your food budget is what a wedding venue would charge for three place settings. That sounds real to me, not sad.
Funerals are supposed to be the equivalent of a three ring circus. People who couldnât be bothered to send flowers to granny while she was still kicking will order lavish funeral arrangements. Youâre expected to negotiate the purchase of an expensive casket and rental of a venue when youâre emotionally vulnerable. There is an implication that the expense of the funeral shows the expanse of your grief. I call bullshit. A simple cremation and a celebration of life doesnât make the dearly departed any more or less dead despite not lining the funeral directorâs pocket.
On one hand I can see that people in these industries have bills to pay and lives to live; but at whose expense? Honestly you are not a failure if you donât pour money into non essentials and there is something wicked about being bombarded by advertising both subtle and explicit telling you that you are.
I was supposed to have grandson today, but his father decided to take the day off work so they can go to the zoo. Turns out weâre under an air quality alert because of wildfire smoke drifting down from Canada. Iâve only been out a couple of times today, but it is very noticeable. Itâs not just hazy, you can smell smoke.
So it turns out to be a genuinely bad day to go to the zoo, but they probably went anyway because itâs âmanlyâ to ignore stuff like that and thereâs a reason heâs an ex husband.
Access to our previous pantry was a bit like playing Tetris. I splurged on two 21 cup Rubbermaid storage containers (Farm and Fleet had a sale) and retired the previous canisters for the whole wheat flour and sugar. I was very happy about how much difference the rearranging made and Brother watched me do it. He watched me pour the sugar from the old canister to the new one, which is now sitting precisely where the sugar has sat for over forty years.
When I came back from a quick trip to the grocery store this afternoon, he met me at the door saying he was making a pitcher of iced tea but couldnât find the sugar.
WTF?
Gradually figuring out new places in the cupboards. The next chore is to lay out all the plastic containers and all the lids and discard any that donât have matches. My only concern with that is I donât know how many of my plastic containers are in Brotherâs room. He carries them in there to finish off the leftovers and then they rarely reappear. At least when he was still employed I could go in there and haul out a dish pan full, but he gets all pissy if I do it when heâs home; and heâs always home.
Itâs like having a twelve year old you canât ground.
people with siblings: how do you feel about them?
So, interesting story. As you may know, I had emergency surgery two weeks ago. Fell and basically shattered my ankle; my foot was literally turned sideways at the end of my leg. Massive pain, ambulance ride, ER visit where I went straight into a room -- yeah, a bad time was had by all. I happen to be staying with my oldest and dearest friend who had had knee replacement two weeks before and lived in the next town over from my two sisters, my only remaining living relatives. So, after my doctor's appointment and the scheduling of my surgery (had to wait a week in agony for the swelling to go down), I text my sisters and tell them the situation.
24 hours pass with no reply.
At 48, one sister replies, "sorry, that sounds bad."
After 72 hours, the other replies, "Good luck! (on the surgery)".
That's the last I've heard from them.
No follow-ups asking how it went, no driving 15 mins to see me, no offers to come help. Just Good Luck and Sorry. I mean, I know that we're not the closest of families and after my Mom died it had gotten worse, but I'm pretty floored. Kinda of upset. Feel ... sad and disconnected. Hard to realize they don't care enough to do more than that when I know I would have offered to come take care of them.
What helped was looking around and realizing that I had my friend, who has let me crash at her house, taken care of me, done everything for me, and my hubs who made the 7 hour drive down immediately, and my beautiful children who message me daily and send Jeni's ice cream as a surprise, and my other bestie who texts daily to check in on me and is meal planning and freezing her famous lasagna and other dishes so I don't have to cook once I get home. My sisters by blood may not care, but I have others who do.
The sad fact is that just because your Christmas presents were under the same tree when you were five, doesnât mean youâll be close when youâre 50. One of my brothers died suddenly two years ago.
I miss the kid who stood on the railroad bridge spitting watermelon seeds through the gap where his new tooth was barely sticking up and trying to hit the train cars moving beneath him. I miss the brother who brought his guitar over while I was babysitting and played it for the kids. I miss the brother that watched movies with me until the old black and white television went off the air for the night. I always will.
I donât miss the brother who swooped in heroically and arranged for our father to come home instead of going to the rehab facility after he broke his hip. Then he disappeared and left us scrambling to care for an immobile, mentally deteriorating parent while working full time. I donât miss the brother who thought it was hysterical when he and his spouse visited our father in the hospital and the old man was so disoriented that he introduced them to the nurses as his parents. I donât miss the brother who spent decades assuming weâd help him if he or his wife and kids needed something but was always too busy to help us. I donât miss his politics or the absolutely vile sense of humor he developed. I donât miss his repeated remarks about making six figures despite not finishing high school while I âwasted my timeâ going to college and only made a fraction of that.
Thatâs just the way it works sometimes.
I donât know what possessed me to think it would be okay to attempt sourdough with the state of my kitchen. I didnât have a problem mixing the dough or leaving it to proof in the laundry room, but by the time I got around to shaping the loaves every horizontal surface was occupied by either a tool or something emptied out of a cupboard.
im realizing very fast that people do not in fact know that sometimes things in stories suck on purpose and it sucking is the point
"this story is misogynistic!!"
>looks inside
>about the pressures of societal misogyny and how its bad
If you donât have bad guys and/or bad things to overcome, what are the good guys going to do? Braid each otherâs hair and get mani pedis?
Here we go again emptying the wall cupboard edition. Some of this stuff is going in the donation box, but we also found stuff our mother had squirreled away like vintage Pyrex and Corningware in great condition.
Brother slow cooked a pork shoulder yesterday on the smoker. It took twelve hours and came out lovely, tender, and flavorful. He invited his youngest son and his partner for pulled pork sandwiches. Nephew said heâd like to come but Partner doesnât like pork. We told him it was no problem, weâd get some hamburgers out of the freezer for her.
So we are sitting at dinner and Brother and Nephew are pressing Partner to try the pork. I didnât think anything of it because the pork really is very nice and maybe she would like it cooked this way. She finally gives in and says âMaybe a little wonât give me stomach crampsâŠ.â
Whoa, Nelly! âDoesnât likeâ and âStomach crampsâ are two very different things. In fact, all too often the stuff youâre not allowed to eat is stuff youâd really like to eat. I feel the situation was seriously misrepresented.
I honestly thought that boy was smarter than that. Someone needs to have a serious conversation with Nephew. I will let his parent have first crack at it, but if not his godmother will be giving him a love tap with the big foam clue bat she carries instead of a wand.
