Everywhere I hear the sound of marchin’, chargin’ feet, boy
‘Cause summer’s here, and the time is right
For fighting in the street, boy
Well now, what can a poor boy do?
‘Cept to sing for a rock-n-roll band
‘Cause in sleepy London town
There’s just no place for a street fighting man
wzrd1says
I wonder what Jordan would make of my considering having my breasts “removed”, as my Grave’s disease caused gynecomastia as is dreadfully inconvenient.
Although, my mammogram was a subject of mirth with my wife, while the pain and growth was being medically investigated and well, it remains a subject of mirth with my anyway. This boob grew boobs…
Still, I do ponder, when did Jordan become anointed emperor, so that he can issue an imperial decree that something previously legal is now a crime. Checking…
Nope, he’s only royally annoying, not anointed to royalty.
Although, marginally annoying. More annoying is, I have a gun and know how to grease my car with it, but could only find two grease fittings after installing a newly purchased tube of grease.
So, not wanting to waste the now less than useful investment in grease, I picked up a grease packing kit. If I need to replace a bearing, I can pack it with grease with a lot less mess than massaging grease into the bearing with my hands, then retrieving my hammer from the next county after attempting to seat the bearing race. ;)
Suspecting the grease residue at the end of the connector would be a risk to spiders, I thoughtfully wrapped a rag around the connector.
And whenever I finally need that packing tool, I’m beyond certain that I’ll be entirely unable to locate it.
Sunday Afternoonsays
Wow – funky sound!
When I sit between my speakers, it sounds like you’re behind me. If I move a long way to the left of right, the audio sounds like you’re coming from the speakers. I’m wondering if the left and right channels are out of phase?
indianajonessays
It’s not often I can comment from lived experience wrt to trans phobia, but dead naming? Kinda/sorta.
I was born a baby boy who became a young boy, a young man and as is the usual course of things the 46 year old man I am today. My name is Jess. A name so ostensibly female that, and I’m pretty sure Mum still has it, that on one of my welcome to the world baby cards it has my name in scare quotes. Well, it’s a place holder that has stuck for near on half a century now and shows no sign of going away. It still meets with incredulity sometimes. I am told that as a little kid I used to introduce myself as ‘Jess, just Jess’. Even before my first memory apparently it was made obvious to me that my name was wrong somehow. But whatever, I get along with it and it has never caused me a problem. Maybe over the phone where people always and I do mean always, assume ‘Jeff’.
At the same time, having a name that is incongruous with everything else about me has been a persistent and noticeable to me feature of my life. I can’t say I have gotten used to it because I have never known anything else.
I have never had anyone after their first slightly surprised reaction have a problem with it. Well, I did get ‘Jess the dress’ in the first half of primary school, but never anything since then. Pre-ten year olds aren’t particularly creative in their teases. It would be highly stupid and dis-respectful if anyone since then had. And if it was because of some insistence about me defining myself incorrectly that would piss me off. Especially were that backed by the discrimination and violence and phobia that is so often behind dead naming. So because of that and along with everything else that goes along with it, fuck dead namers.
Alt-Xsays
I still laugh from that time he started crying, thinking when people talk about toxic masculinity, they’re attacking builders. He’s always so emotional and crying, bloke wouldn’t last two minutes on a building site ha!
Alt-Xsays
It’s always the least manly that carry on about manliness. It’s always the ugliest that carry on about race purity. Interesting.
Akira MacKenzie says
Everywhere I hear the sound of marchin’, chargin’ feet, boy
‘Cause summer’s here, and the time is right
For fighting in the street, boy
Well now, what can a poor boy do?
‘Cept to sing for a rock-n-roll band
‘Cause in sleepy London town
There’s just no place for a street fighting man
wzrd1 says
I wonder what Jordan would make of my considering having my breasts “removed”, as my Grave’s disease caused gynecomastia as is dreadfully inconvenient.
Although, my mammogram was a subject of mirth with my wife, while the pain and growth was being medically investigated and well, it remains a subject of mirth with my anyway. This boob grew boobs…
Still, I do ponder, when did Jordan become anointed emperor, so that he can issue an imperial decree that something previously legal is now a crime. Checking…
Nope, he’s only royally annoying, not anointed to royalty.
Although, marginally annoying. More annoying is, I have a gun and know how to grease my car with it, but could only find two grease fittings after installing a newly purchased tube of grease.
So, not wanting to waste the now less than useful investment in grease, I picked up a grease packing kit. If I need to replace a bearing, I can pack it with grease with a lot less mess than massaging grease into the bearing with my hands, then retrieving my hammer from the next county after attempting to seat the bearing race. ;)
Suspecting the grease residue at the end of the connector would be a risk to spiders, I thoughtfully wrapped a rag around the connector.
And whenever I finally need that packing tool, I’m beyond certain that I’ll be entirely unable to locate it.
Sunday Afternoon says
Wow – funky sound!
When I sit between my speakers, it sounds like you’re behind me. If I move a long way to the left of right, the audio sounds like you’re coming from the speakers. I’m wondering if the left and right channels are out of phase?
indianajones says
It’s not often I can comment from lived experience wrt to trans phobia, but dead naming? Kinda/sorta.
I was born a baby boy who became a young boy, a young man and as is the usual course of things the 46 year old man I am today. My name is Jess. A name so ostensibly female that, and I’m pretty sure Mum still has it, that on one of my welcome to the world baby cards it has my name in scare quotes. Well, it’s a place holder that has stuck for near on half a century now and shows no sign of going away. It still meets with incredulity sometimes. I am told that as a little kid I used to introduce myself as ‘Jess, just Jess’. Even before my first memory apparently it was made obvious to me that my name was wrong somehow. But whatever, I get along with it and it has never caused me a problem. Maybe over the phone where people always and I do mean always, assume ‘Jeff’.
At the same time, having a name that is incongruous with everything else about me has been a persistent and noticeable to me feature of my life. I can’t say I have gotten used to it because I have never known anything else.
I have never had anyone after their first slightly surprised reaction have a problem with it. Well, I did get ‘Jess the dress’ in the first half of primary school, but never anything since then. Pre-ten year olds aren’t particularly creative in their teases. It would be highly stupid and dis-respectful if anyone since then had. And if it was because of some insistence about me defining myself incorrectly that would piss me off. Especially were that backed by the discrimination and violence and phobia that is so often behind dead naming. So because of that and along with everything else that goes along with it, fuck dead namers.
Alt-X says
I still laugh from that time he started crying, thinking when people talk about toxic masculinity, they’re attacking builders. He’s always so emotional and crying, bloke wouldn’t last two minutes on a building site ha!
Alt-X says
It’s always the least manly that carry on about manliness. It’s always the ugliest that carry on about race purity. Interesting.