I’m really angry. My oldest son’s school sent me an email this afternoon lecturing me on his attendance and how it affects his grades and how it makes the school look bad, etc…

We had a few weeks off earlier this year when my grandfather and my mother-in-law died (both suddenly and unexpectedly) within two weeks of each other.

My younger son’s school offered assistance, counselling and anything else that they could think of to offer. They were very supportive. My older son’s school has just berated us for grieving and supporting each other, our friends and our family. I’m so fucking angry. They know that bereavement was the reason for his absence. Cunts.

Except one short mention about riding the clutch, I haven’t seen this yet… Get into the habit of completely removing your foot from the clutch pedal whenever possible. Even just lightly resting your foot against the pedal can wear your clutch out prematurely. Cruising on the highway: remove your foot from the clutch pedal and rest it on the floor. Sitting at the lights: put the car in neutral and release the clutch. Put your foot on the floor until you’re ready to go. Also, it’s ok to coast to a stop with the clutch pedal depressed, but you have much more control if you downshift to a stop and you will extend the life of your brakes, too.

Game on the left monitor. My left monitor is directly in front of my chair, though. Right monitor is portrait for browser, discord and whatever else I need at the time. The whole setup flipped (🔄) when I moved my desk last week, though.

/c/smallvictories

I like the idea. Post the address when you kick it off!

Bill Cosby. I was raised on Bill Cosby albums and TV shows. I can’t listen to him any more.

Roger Taylor and Brian May. John Deacon was the bass player and he retired when Freddie died.

Freddie Mercury.

Diana Spencer.

Robin Williams.

Queen Pink Floyd Dire Straits Sting/Police

Did any of the studies find it delicious?

Minecraft.

If I’m feeling particularly antisocial I’ll play Angband or Umoria.

I think B.B. King has the solution:

I’ve got a good mind to give up on living and go shopping instead.

I always have a screen protector. I prefer glass; I’m not a fan of the plastic ones. I pay to have it installed, that way it has to be installed perfectly or they do it again until they get it right.

I’ve broken a couple of screen protectors, but never a screen… Except for the time I accidentally stood on my 7" Nexus tablet, which wouldn’t have been saved by a screen protector, anyway.

Breasts are not like a bladder filled with liquid. It’s more like a dense sponge; so you can squeeze liquid out, but you can’t inflate a sponge.

This is the only logical conclusion.

It doesn’t matter to me. If it bothers you, then delete it. The only person that really cares about your stats is you, so do whatever keeps your conscience clear.

One of the first games I ever played (and it was definitely the first game I tried to cheat/hack) was Bard’s Tale (the original) which is set in Skara Brae.

While there are some client-side mods, they have limited functionality and are mostly cosmetic. For “modded” Minecraft you need to run the mods server-side. The easiest way to do this is to download the server packs from Curseforge and run one of those. Once running, they’re pretty-much maintenance free. You can update when the server packs update, but unless they’re critical updates, it’s up to you if you do it or not (when you do, you need to ensure the clients are updated to the same version; which they can do easily with Curseforge) Set up scripts for backups and server reboots every so often and you’re good.

When I was young I was all about black. Not goth or emo, but I only really had black clothing and would take the un-coloured option every time. Now that I’m in my late 40s, I really love green. The bright green of spring grass on a sunny day, because the tans and browns of Australian summer and autumn and the greys of winter really wash out the palette of the countryside and the olive greens and blues of eucalyptus are dull, muted colours. My clothes are a lot more colourful, now, too.

Mate. She’s a sexual assault victim. You forced her to expose herself against her will. You forbid her from covering herself to feel safe and comfortable. When she had an anxiety attack and PTSD, you stood over her and shouted at her?

You are her partner and lover. You are supposed to be her safe space. You are supposed to support and nurture her.

You are now an abuser. You are now her abuser. With time, and therapy (for you: to understand how much you fucked up here) you may… MAY… repair the relationship. I wouldn’t count on it, though.

When I was eleven (1988) we moved to a rural property with no power. I left when I was eighteen… So… Seven years.