Young Black Male Porch Pirate to Burly White UPS Delivery Man
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Young Black Male Porch Pirate to Burly White UPS Delivery Man
Daguerreotype of a handsome young saddle maker hard at work, c. 1850
1/9 ambrotype
Occupational distribution of Men and Women in US Labor Force
THE BEAN CURD (TOFU) SELLER in OLD JAPAN by Okinawa Soba (Rob) Via Flickr: OK. I admit it. I hate Tofu. Always have, always will. On the other hand, my wife and kids eat it like there is no tomorrow --- Soft or Hard, Chopped or Stir Fried...alone or mixed with anything... and just plain fried by itself. From squiggly-wiggly Tofu....to burnt, crusty Tofu. And that great sacrilege of deserts.... Tofu Ice Cream. Just down the road from a house I lived in for years on Okinawa was a roadside Shrine dedicated to the GOD OF TOFU. The God of Tofu. Only in Japan, the "Land of Eight Million Gods" (yaoyorozu no kami 八百万の神), which in figurative Japanese really means "Land of an Infinite Myriad of Gods". And that includes the omniscient, omnipresent, omnipotent TOFU --- the all-knowing God of eternal blandness that depends on the sacrifice of untold numbers of innocent soybeans to support his very existence. Oh well. Better the Japanese God of Tofu than that insidious and evil "Demon of Post Nasal Drip", who the American Pentecostal Missionaries just down the road were --- by invoking the mighty name of Jesus --- trying to cast out of their Church members who had the Flu. Amazingly, these cases of Demon Possession seemed to have been effectively dealt with in the name of Jesus. The offending minions of Hell were cast out of the Flu sufferers, and returned to their fiery abode in the center of the earth. That is to say, these poor church members who had their demons of sickness cast out, actually saw their cold and flu symptoms completely and miraculously cleared up ---- only three short weeks after they had gotten prayed for !!! Hallelujah !!! (And to think that some people say Demons aren't real, and prayer doesn't help !) Time for some TOFU !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Ca.1890s large albumen print. Attributed to SHINICHI SUZUKI the Younger, whose studio closed in 1896. Photo #1016 RANDOM SOBA : www.flickriver.com/photos/24443965@N08/random/
sss-SUNDAY SIX!
I am forever indebted to @carryonsimoncarryonbaz for creating The Medical Drama AU Of My Soul, and this is a bit of my fic based on her fic Bad Case Of Loving You that I am gonna attempt to mostly finish before I post anything.
BAZ
I'm finishing my morning rounds when I get the page from A&E. Haven't had one in two days now, though of course as soon as Simon's back from that conference, something comes up.
He sounds a bit odd when he answers the phone -- blustery and inarticulate, like he used to often be before that night he kissed me in the call room three weeks ago -- but I get what I need and head down to evaluate his potential appendix.
"Good timing," I say, catching his attention as I swan into his A&E. I can't help it, I'm feeling really good today. Possibly because my boyfriend spent the night for the first time on Tuesday, before he went to Cardiff, and the glow hasn't worn off yet. God, we haven't even gone beyond snogging and I'm already a soppy romantic mess. Dev will be insufferable when Simon finally shags me.
A young man and his chicken. Via.