SwimOdin

Little blurry, but a cute shot I got of the grandson the other day

I see him on twitter just about every day. He’s a birder.

Mega Man 2, which is still a top 10 game,

Yeah, this gen launch seems like it’s based on FOMO and nothing else. Except maybe Demon Souls...

Glad it was solid

I’ve got questions; what criteria are we rating our poop on? also, at 38, I have poop more than the rest of you will in your entire lives (excluding kehotick, whom also has Crohn’s)

The most common American birthday is September 9th because fuck at Jesus birthday.

The birthday paradox states that it only takes 23 random people to have a 50% chance to have two of those people share the same birthday. We did it.

Yeah, my wife and daughter always like shopping there

I will be driving through it in two weeks on my way to Hilton Head

Happy birthday @UnDeRwOrlDpRiNcEsS and @InsaneFox

Yes, and I’d be ok, it’s just my right eye that doesn’t work, so the costume should involve an eyepatch

There’s got to be at least a dozen of us

I work all day, and get half-drunk at night. Waking at four to soundless dark, I stare. In time the curtain-edges will grow light. Till then I see what’s really always there: Unresting death, a whole day nearer now, Making all thought impossible but how And where and when I shall myself die. Arid interrogation: yet the dread Of dying, and being dead, Flashes afresh to hold and horrify. The mind blanks at the glare. Not in remorse —The good not done, the love not given, time Torn off unused—nor wretchedly because An only life can take so long to climb Clear of its wrong beginnings, and may never; But at the total emptiness for ever, The sure extinction that we travel to And shall be lost in always. Not to be here, Not to be anywhere, And soon; nothing more terrible, nothing more true. This is a special way of being afraid No trick dispels. Religion used to try, That vast moth-eaten musical brocade Created to pretend we never die, And specious stuff that says No rational being Can fear a thing it will not feel, not seeing That this is what we fear—no sight, no sound, No touch or taste or smell, nothing to think with, Nothing to love or link with, The anaesthetic from which none come round. And so it stays just on the edge of vision, A small unfocused blur, a standing chill That slows each impulse down to indecision. Most things may never happen: this one will, And realisation of it rages out In furnace-fear when we are caught without People or drink. Courage is no good: It means not scaring others. Being brave Lets no one off the grave. Death is no different whined at than withstood. Slowly light strengthens, and the room takes shape. It stands plain as a wardrobe, what we know, Have always known, know that we can’t escape, Yet can’t accept. One side will have to go. Meanwhile telephones crouch, getting ready to ring In locked-up offices, and all the uncaring Intricate rented world begins to rouse. The sky is white as clay, with no sun. Work has to be done. Postmen like doctors go from house to house.

Sad 😞

I'm still chasing the dragon of the first time I had edibles. It felt like I was laying on a molten lava bed, while anything not touching my body was the bottom of the coldest ocean. And then I became a tree.

I hope you come back, you make some funny threads.

Sparking

Salutations, this one is referred to as Daisy 🙂

It took 12 days for my results so it didn’t even matter that I got tested.

My grandson

I believe most people have trouble sleeping on their back. I'm one of the lucky ones who can sleep any way, and on my back is preferred.

I'm seven years old again.

I fucking loved Count Duckula. Does anyone else remember it?