My daughter loves Legos, and man she has amassed a ton load of them. What started as one or two small boxes ballooned into a huge collection. and my wife, making things worse, bought odd bits and orphaned kits of legos off the internet. It’s all good though.
It’s a creative toy that enables imaginative thought processes. And so for today, we will devote this post to Legos.
What’s one small decision you made that completely changed your life?
I decided to save 15 minutes by taking a short cut.
I was having a date that night but it was still light out, Aug 14, 1998 and I wanted to get 20 miles of bike training in before the date. I thought I could do it, shower and be ready on time. But as I rode, I began to realize that 20 miles was too ambitious to make the date on time. So I took a short cut to get home earlier. I was flying down the road, a straightaway, at 16 miles and hour which was excellent for me (My fastest speed was 32 miles and hour when I was at my peak but I wasn’t trying for a personal best).
Suddenly, a car took a left turn in front of me as I crossed the intersection. I hit the front of the car, went over the hood and through the windshield. When she hit the brakes, I went back out through the windshield. My life changed in a second, changed forever. It took two years to learn to walk again. I never did make that date.
You never go. You can go left, right or straight but something is going to happen if it’s destined to happen. I could have gone that extra few miles and been late for the date but I chose another way and an elderly blind woman who was still driving hit me head on.
Such is life.
5 BIZARRE Experiences of People Being in a Parallel Universe
Dear Diary: My Week in Hell (Thanks, Horoscope)
Written in response to: “Write a story in which a stranger warns someone about events yet to come.“
⭐️ Contest #317 Shortlist!
Alexander Colfer
Not around it. INTO it. Because I was so busy looking up at the sky for rain clouds that I didn’t see the giant fountain directly in front of me. Went down like a sack of bricks, arms flailing, briefcase flying. The splash was apparently spectacular – some kid yelled “CANNONBALL!”
My phone was in my pocket – completely dead. That cute barista from this morning had written her number on my coffee cup, which was now a soggy, illegible mess floating next to me like a sad paper boat. I tried to save it, but it just disintegrated in my hands like wet tissue.
But wait, it gets worse. The bus driver took one look at me, dripping all over his floor and shook his head. “Sorry mate, you’re making a puddle. Walk it off.” So there I was, soaking wet, trudging home in my squishy shoes that made embarrassing squelching sounds with every step.
And then – because the universe apparently has a quota for irony – it started raining. Hard. So my umbrella, which I’d carried all day for protection from the very water I was already soaked in, finally became useful for the 20-minute walk of shame home.
A group of teenagers filmed the whole fountain incident and I’m pretty sure I’m going viral as “Fountain Guy.”
Oh, and the Housing Minister got caught running 25 illegal HMOs without proper licences. Even the government is having water problems – drowning in scandal. At least I’m not the only one making a splash today.
The universe has a sick sense of humour.
Jerry
Tuesday, 24th October
Dear Diary,
I should have learnt my lesson yesterday, but apparently I’m a glutton for punishment.
Today’s horoscope: “A tall dark stranger will bring chaos to your day.”
I spent the entire day playing some demented game of hide-and-seek with anyone over 5’8″ with dark hair. Ducked behind cars in car parks. Hid in toilet stalls when I spotted potential “threats” entering buildings. The low point was army-crawling under a table at Starbucks when a tall brunette walked in. I stayed there for fifteen minutes, knees burning on the rough carpet, listening to her order a venti caramel macchiato.
The barista crouched down and asked if I was having a medical emergency. I had to pretend I’d dropped my contact lens. I don’t wear contact lenses.
At work, I took the stairs exclusively to avoid lifts with tall, dark-haired people. By lunch, my legs felt like jelly. I ate a sad sandwich in the supply cupboard because the canteen had too many potential “chaos bringers.”
I thought I was so clever. Made it through the whole workday without talking to a single tall, dark person. Felt like I’d beaten the system.
Then I got home and my neighbour Miguel knocked on my door. Miguel is 6’2″ and has black hair. He was there to tell me my car was being towed because I’d parked it half on the pavement, half in Mrs Peterson’s prized flower bed. Apparently, when you’re dodging “dangerous” people all day, you don’t park very well. Her tulips looked like they’d been through a blender.
Saw on the news that a minister lost the party whip over a cash-for-access inquiry. Apparently, tall dark strangers bringing chaos isn’t just my problem – though I bet that minister didn’t have to army-crawl under any tables.
Chaos: delivered. Universe: 2, Jerry: 0.
Why do I keep reading this thing?
Jerry
Wednesday, 25th October
Dear Diary,
I’m writing this from my car because I can’t go inside my flat. There’s a red fire engine parked outside and I refuse to go near it. I’ve been sitting here for two hours.
Today’s cosmic wisdom: “Avoid the colour red at all costs.”
I threw away my red shirts this morning (goodbye, favourite Cardinals jersey – £60 down the drain). Wouldn’t eat the strawberries I bought yesterday. Crossed the road every time I saw a red car, which in hindsight is a lot more often than you’d think. I must have walked an extra three miles in zigzags. My fitness tracker thinks I had the most active day of my life.
The low point was lunch. I was finally relaxing at Giuseppe’s, enjoying my first normal moment in days, when a woman in a bright red dress walked in. I panicked and locked myself in the loo for 45 minutes. Sat on the toilet seat, scrolling through my phone, listening to the lunch crowd come and go. The restaurant staff knocked twice, asking if I was all right.
Missed my 2 PM meeting with Mr Henderson about the big client presentation I’ve been hoping to lead. His assistant rang later. Apparently, he waited 20 minutes and then gave the presentation opportunity to Brad. BRAD, diary. The bloke who microwaves fish in the break room and uses Comic Sans in his presentations.
I’m currently staring at a stop sign that I need to walk past to get home, but it’s red and I’m not taking any chances. Mrs Chen from 3B walked by an hour ago and asked if I was having a breakdown. She told me the fire engine is here because Emma from 2A had an air fryer fire – apparently, the firemen are taking their sweet time “helping” her clean up. Can’t say I blame them; Emma’s gorgeous. But now my flat reeks of burnt chip fat, which somehow feels like another cosmic punishment.
I told Mrs Chen I was “waiting for the right moment.” She backed away slowly.
The government lost a major vote on taxation reform today. Guess they should have avoided the colour red too – all those red dispatch boxes must be cursed. At least when I avoid important meetings, I don’t crash the economy.
Maybe I am having a breakdown.
Jerry
Thursday, 26th October
Dear Diary,
I think I’m losing my mind. Today’s horoscope said my lucky numbers were 3, 7, and 12. LUCKY numbers, diary. I thought, finally, something good!
I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror this morning and barely recognised myself. Haven’t shaved since Monday, my hair is sticking up in three different directions (ironically, that felt cosmically significant), and I’ve got dark circles under my eyes that make me look like I haven’t slept in days. I’m pretty sure my shirt has fountain water stains that never came out.
I became completely obsessed with the numbers. Only bought 3 items at every shop, which meant seven separate trips to get groceries. Took the lift to the 7th floor twelve times at work (I work on the 4th floor). My colleagues started actively avoiding me. Janet from HR cornered me and asked if I was “going through something” because I looked like “a man on the edge.”
When I got to work, Brad actually asked if I was ill. BRAD was concerned about MY wellbeing. That’s when you know you’ve hit rock bottom.
I set 12 alarms on my phone at different intervals. Ordered 3 dozen doughnuts for the office because the number felt “cosmically powerful.” Thirty-six chocolate-glazed doughnuts for eight people. Everyone looked at me like I’d lost my mind when I wheeled in this tower of sugar at 9 AM. Karen from accounting whispered to someone that I was “having some kind of breakdown.”
The doughnuts made half the office sick because apparently that much sugar before noon is “excessive” and “why are they ALL chocolate glazed, Jerry?” Brad was sick in the break room sink.
I got stuck in the lift for 2 hours when it broke down between floors 6 and 7 – so close to my lucky floor! Had to wee so badly I was doing a little dance. The maintenance bloke who finally rescued me took one look at my wild hair and bloodshot eyes and asked if I needed him to ring someone. “You look like you need help, mate. Maybe someone should come get you?”
And those 12 alarms? They went off every hour throughout the night. I got maybe 20 minutes of sleep total between the constant beeping. I’m basically a walking zombie at this point. My hands are shaking from exhaustion and too much coffee.
BREAKING NEWS: Prime Minister just went to the Queen, suspended Parliament, and called a general election. The whole government is falling apart just like me. Maybe we’re all following the same horoscope. Even the PM looks like he hasn’t slept – though his hair is better than mine.
My “lucky” numbers have made this the unluckiest day yet. I’m starting to think the universe is personally trolling me.
But tomorrow will be different. I can feel it. I have to believe it, because I don’t think I can survive another day like this.
Jerry
Friday, 27th October
Dear Diary,
I’M FREE!
This morning’s horoscope said something ridiculous like “Beware: Mercury is in microwave”, which doesn’t even make astronomical sense. I stared at it for about 30 seconds, then crumpled it up and threw it in the bin with more force than necessary.
“No more,” I said out loud to my empty flat. “I’m living like a normal human being today.”
And diary, it was MAGICAL.
I took a proper shower – hot water, good soap, the works. Wore whatever clothes I wanted (including a red tie, just because I could). Walked in straight lines instead of zigzagging around “dangerous” people and objects. Bought exactly what I needed without counting items or obsessing over cosmic numbers. It felt like being released from prison.
And everything went RIGHT. Mr Henderson rang me into his office first thing and gave me the promotion after all! Turns out Brad had screwed up spectacularly during his prep work; he somehow managed to email the entire client presentation to our biggest competitor instead of saving it to the company server. Henderson said he’d “never seen such creative incompetence” and decided I was clearly the better choice for Senior Account Manager.
I stopped for celebratory coffee and the cute barista (tall with dark hair – blimey!) not only remembered me but gave me her number again. Her name is Sarah and she has the most amazing smile. Turns out she’d been hoping I’d come back after my “fountain incident” – apparently she thought it was “endearingly clumsy.” We’re getting dinner tomorrow.
On the walk back to work, I found a £20 note just lying on the pavement. A crisp twenty! I looked around for someone who might have dropped it, but the street was empty. The universe was finally paying me back.
I felt like a genius. A man of science who had overcome superstition through pure rational thinking and willpower.
Then I met Dave for drinks to celebrate, and I told him my whole ridiculous week. I was feeling pretty smug about my “liberation from cosmic tyranny,” really laying it on thick about how I’d “defeated the forces of irrationality.”
Dave listened to everything, nodding along and trying not to laugh, and then said: “Mate, you know you’ve been reading the wrong horoscope all week, right? You’re a Sagittarius, not a Scorpio.”
I just stared at him. My pint halfway to my mouth, frozen.
“Yeah,” he continued, pulling out his phone with a grin. “Look, here’s Sagittarius for this week: ‘Great fortune awaits. Trust your instincts and good things will follow. Lucky days ahead.'”
Diary, I’ve been torturing myself for four days following some random Scorpio’s horoscope whilst my actual sign was basically saying “chill out, everything’s brilliant.”
I sat there for a full minute, processing this. Then I started laughing. Couldn’t stop. Laughed until my sides hurt and Dave was looking concerned. I’d been my own worst enemy, creating disasters out of thin air whilst my real horoscope was cheering me on from the sidelines.
New polls show the opposition surging after yesterday’s election call. Turns out, when you stop making terrible decisions based on paranoia, things improve. Who knew? Maybe the PM should try reading Sagittarius instead of whatever sign he’s been following.
I don’t know whether to feel like an idiot or a genius. Actually, definitely an idiot. But a happy idiot with a promotion, a date, and twenty extra quid.
Never reading another horoscope again.
(But maybe I should check what Sagittarius says for tomorrow. Just to be safe. For scientific purposes only, of course.)
Jerry
P.S. – I’m definitely reading it tomorrow. Sarah might want to know what the stars have planned for our date.
Iran Just Wiped 200,000 Devices at a $25 Billion U.S. Medical Company (No Malware Needed)
This is a serious WARNING to Me and to You. Pay attention to this.
Iran-linked hackers just wiped over 200,000 devices at Stryker Corporation, a $25 billion medical technology giant, across 79 countries. They didn’t use malware. They didn’t exploit a zero-day. They logged into Stryker’s own Microsoft Intune admin console with stolen credentials and pressed the remote wipe button. Surgical supply orders stopped. Paramedics in Maryland lost the ability to transmit EKGs to hospitals. 5,000 workers in Ireland were sent home. This is the full breakdown of what happened, how it happened, and what it means for every company running cloud-based device management right now.
Celestial Harmonies: Unveiling the Symphony of the Universe
Written in response to: “Write about a character who has to grapple with something completely alien to them.“
Turey Rosa
With a beckoning gesture from the alien’s hand, the stillness shattered, drawing me into an intimate embrace of the arcane encounter. My initial shock yielded to cautious intrigue as I approached the green-skinned being. There was a palpable aura of friendliness enveloping its form. Accepting the alien’s invitation, I sat beside it, both of us facing the resplendent sunflower that had ignited this marvelous rendezvous.
The alien extended its small, verdant hand in a movement both fluid and surreal, seeming like a symbol of universal goodwill. An instinctive impulse propelled my hand to meet the alien’s in a gesture that surpassed language’s boundaries. This fleeting touch fostered an exchange that transcended the confines of words. Our minds intertwined in a fusion of consciousness, bridging worlds and cultures.
Through this unprecedented communion, the alien swiftly absorbed my language, erasing the veil of separation that had initially stood between us. Thus a gateway to understanding had been unlocked, paving the way so the true conversation could finally commence—a dialogue that spanned galaxies, dimensions, and the enigmas of existence.
As the alien’s gaze returned to the sunflower, a scroll of secrets started to unfurl. Its words flowed like a symphony, each note unveiling a profound revelation. “The golden ratio,” the alien’s voice resonated, resembling a melody whispered through the eons, “is the cipher of creation, a language inscribed in the very foundations of reality.”
In the embrace of the rainforest, the alien spun a tale of the golden ratio—an intricate pattern embedded within existence itself. With every word, the sunflower’s spiral seemed to morph into a portal, a window peering into the structure of space-time. “Observe the sunflower’s petals,” the alien continued, “a glimpse of the divine proportion, a whisper of the cosmos’ intricate gyration.”
The rainforest bore witness as the alien unveiled the golden ratio’s manifestations, from the spirals of galaxies to the delicate curvature of seashells. Each revelation was a note in the cosmic symphony, a testament to the unfathomable intelligence that permeated the universe.
As the final echoes of the alien’s words resonated within me, the sunflower before us began to radiate with an otherworldly brilliance, as if echoing the cosmic truths that had been revealed. Even the rainforest around us seemed to hum in harmony, a symphony of life bearing witness to the wisdom that had been shared.
With a sense of reverence, the alien’s gaze lifted towards the star-lit sky above us, its slender finger reaching out to trace the path of a distant constellation—Orion’s Belt. Among the glittering jewels of the night, one star on the belt’s periphery seemed to pulsate with a unique light, a pharos marking the origin and home of my mysterious companion.
In a moment suspended beyond the constraints of time, I became privy to the alien’s narrative—a story of an aquatic world, a planet predominantly cloaked in boundless oceans. A tale of evolution, where it’s species had risen from the depths to traverse land, a leap that spanned mere cosmic moments.
With bated breath, I listened as the alien wove its saga, revealing a kinship that transcended the chasm between our worlds. An evolution mirroring our own insatiable thirst for exploration, a quest to transcend limitations and redefine existence.
Beneath the canopy of El Yunque rainforest, a profound connection was woven—a pact binding humanity and an interstellar voyager. With a gift bestowed upon me, the alien bid its farewell, each step it took leaving a lingering mist in its wake, a reminder of its ethereal presence.
In my return to my everyday reality, a relentless obsession consumed me. The cryptic artifact held my gaze, its mysterious equation acting like a siren’s call, beckoning me into the depths of cosmic understanding. Symbols and letters converged in a complex pattern, revealing a mosaic of surreal riddles that seemed to cradle the very essence of the universe itself.”
Every night, the artifact rested on my desk, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, casting a mesmerizing pattern on the walls. I had become consumed, driven by an insatiable hunger to unravel its meaning.
I pored over scientific texts, delved into ancient philosophies, and explored realms of knowledge I had never ventured into before.
My determination was unrelenting, my thirst for understanding unquenchable. As the weeks rolled on, my mind transformed into a crucible of contemplation, where the universe’s secrets melded with my thoughts. My apartment had become a sanctuary of intellectual exploration, its walls adorned with intricate notes, equations, and diagrams.
I had become a modern alchemist, seeking to transmute the enigma before me into the pure gold of comprehension.
Each day, as I deciphered more of the equation’s layers, I felt myself drawn deeper into the riddle. The symbols began to resonate, their harmony echoing through my thoughts.
It was as if the universe itself whispered its truths to me, guiding me through a labyrinth of interconnected revelations. And then, one fateful night, as the moon cast its silvery gaze upon my realm of exploration, it happened.
A connection sparked in my mind, a thread of insight that wove through the equation’s complexity. The symbols aligned, the letters coalesced, and the meaning bloomed like a celestial flower in full bloom.
With trembling hands, I traced the lines of the equation, my heart pounding in anticipation. The riddles that had tormented me for weeks now coalesced into a symphony of understanding—a melody that intertwined with the very fabric of existence.
The message unfolded, revealing a truth that transcended the boundaries of science and philosophy. It was a revelation that echoed the cosmic beauty of the stars, a dance governed not by an external hand but by the intricate choreography of natural forces.
The message whispered of a universe born not from a predetermined blueprint, but from the crucible of experimentation—a universe where elements collided, conditions intertwined, and time sculpted the ever-evolving tableau of reality.
It spoke of the elegance of trial and error, the interplay of creation and destruction that gave birth to galaxies and the tiniest particles alike. with a continued trial and success. My heart raced as I beheld the equation’s unveiled meaning, a truth that shattered conventional perceptions.
The universe, it seemed, was not a masterpiece orchestrated by a divine conductor, but a grand improvisation—a cosmic dance that defied preconceived notions and embraced the fluidity of existence.
U=f(E,C,P,T,I) U—The universe and its phenomena, the ultimate reality. E—The elemental building blocks, the very alphabet of creation. C—Conditions, the stage upon which the cosmic drama unfolds. P—The heartbeat of trial and error, the rhythm of exploration. T—Time, the master sculptor shaping the universe’s ever-evolving form. I—Interactions, the cosmic conversations that weave existence.
This equation, once an enigma, now spoke a profound truth. The universe was not a mere product of calculation, but an intricate blend of elements, conditions, and interactions—a tunefulness of cosmic forces harmonizing through the eons.
As dawn bathed my room in gentle light, I sat in admiration, a witness to a revelation that transcended the boundaries of human understanding. The cryptic artifact had granted me a glimpse into the tapestry of existence, a tapestry woven by the universe itself—a universe that embraced the beauty of imperfection, the majesty of experimentation, and the exquisite allure of the unknown. And as the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place, I knew that this journey was not just mine alone. It was a revelation meant to be shared, a message that would echo through the corridors of time, resonating with those who dared to question, to explore, and to merge with the cosmos itself.
In the heart of my apartment, amidst the remnants of countless calculations and sleepless nights, I felt a profound sense of fulfillment. I had deciphered the equation, unraveled the code, and in doing so, become a part of the universe’s eternal symphony—a symphony that would forever serenade the stars and inspire the hearts of those who dared to listen.
Essay.
In the heart of El Yunque rainforest, where the verdant foliage meets the ceaseless cascade of Río La Coca, a self-prescribed sabbatical led Alex to an otherworldly encounter. As the nocturnal residents serenaded the rainforest’s dusk, curiosity lured him deeper into the woods. What followed was an extraordinary rendezvous with an entity of verdant green, an interstellar voyager, and a shared exploration of the inexplicable.
This diminutive figure, cloaked in an emerald hue, fixated its gaze on a solitary sunflower. It was not its appearance that captivated Alex, but the focus of its fascination. This alien being, from a distant aquatic world, held a kinship with humanity’s thirst for exploration—an evolution mirroring our journey from ocean depths to land traversal.
An unspoken understanding transcended language as their minds intertwined in an exchange that spanned galaxies and dimensions. United by curiosity, Alex and the alien embarked on a silent conversation that wove reality and fiction into intricate revelations.
In the embrace of the rainforest, the alien unveiled the cosmic significance of the golden ratio—a divine proportion embedded within existence. From galaxies to seashells, this pattern, symbolized by the sunflower’s petals, resonated through the fabric of reality—a language inscribed in the foundations of creation.
The alien’s narrative, a tale of evolution on its aquatic planet, mirrored humanity’s quest for exploration. As it traced Orion’s Belt in the starlit sky, Alex became privy to a story that transcended the chasm between their worlds, revealing a profound connection.
The encounter’s aftermath saw Alex grappling with a cryptic artifact—a mesmerizing equation that encapsulated the universe’s secrets. Driven by an unquenchable thirst for understanding, he delved into scientific texts, ancient philosophies, and uncharted realms of knowledge.
Weeks of tireless contemplation led to an electrifying moment—a connection sparked, threads of insight weaving through the equation’s complexity. Symbols aligned, letters coalesced, and the meaning bloomed, whispering cosmic truths. The revelation: the universe was an improvisation, a dance of elements, conditions, interactions, and time—a symphony of creation and destruction.
This revelation shattered conventional perceptions, leading Alex to an equation that defied the notion of a predetermined universe. With trembling hands, he traced the equation, discovering a harmony that embraced the fluidity of existence—an equation that spoke of the universe’s complexity and beauty.
In the glow of dawn, a sense of fulfillment washed over Alex. He had unraveled the code, becoming part of the universe’s eternal symphony—an exploration meant to be shared, a message resonating with those who dared to listen.
My husband likes that I have gotten fit and toned after losing 50lbs, but I want to be single and focus on enjoying life now. Should I stay married or file for divorce so we both don’t waste each other’s time?
I’ve been fit and toned all my life. I’m almost 63 years old now. The first picture below is of me in college, the second is from last Christmas.
That’s FIFTY YEARS of being beautiful.
Let me explain something to you. Having a good body attracts a lot of narcissists. I know, I’ve lived in a good body all my life. You haven’t. So now you’re excited, you’re getting attention that maybe you never had. But you have to be careful. You may not even know what a narcissist is, maybe you haven’t had to know.
Surely there must have been reasons you married the husband that you have. Did you feel you were “settling,” that he was all you could get? Now you’re attracting a lot of attention. People look at you, then they look at him and wonder why you’re with him.
It seems that your husband is not a narcissist. In fact, it seems that he loves you. He’s enjoying your new body. Presumably he supported you in your weight loss. And he loved you while you were heavy, right? Lucky you! If I had gained fifty pounds during my marriage, I never would have heard the end of it. In fact, my husband probably would have been looking at all the women around him (he already was, I called him “swivel head” but only to myself, never out loud because he would have blown up).
Anyway, I was married to someone who thought he could do better. Eventually we got a divorce. But it apparently didn’t go well for him on the dating market. It did for me. I found someone wonderful, a man with real values and we’ve been together ever since.
Please, please, please, before you file for divorce, think about these things. Also, could you please watch La Palma? It is a four-part mini series from Norway on Netflix. There is a female character on it who is going through exactly what you are going through now. She’s lost some weight, gotten toned. She’s looking great and she’s thinking of leaving her husband. He’s not that bad, but he’s a little dumpy and doesn’t eat as carefully as she does now. She looks down on him.
So, I’ve been through it all from the other side: I was always the wife with the good body, but I was the one who was married to the man who thought he could do better. I did end up filing for divorce, not because my husband was fat (which he was), but because he looked down on me. As an example, he and our son used to call me “Bag Lady,” which is stupid because I was carrying all their stuff. Also, my parents are wealthy, but our children didn’t know that (they were never allowed to visit my parents because my parents weren’t being “supportive”, that is, they weren’t giving us money. This is even though my parents had gifted us with a large downpayment on our very nice house. $300K was a lot of money back in 1997 and it meant we didn’t have a very high mortgage). I didn’t spend money during the marriage because my husband wasn’t making any. And I didn’t ask my parents for money, which aggravated my then-husband to no end. Anyway, I had good reasons to file for divorce. I don’t think you do. Granted, your question is very short. But if this is why you are thinking of a divorce, it’s not enough.
if you stay in the marriage you need to adjust your attitude. Not appreciating your husband for his good qualities can cause a divorce if you keep thinking along those lines. Over time it will sour your marriage.
And here’s the thing about beauty: true beauty is distancing. Men don’t approach you and the ones who do are probably not the ones you would want to be with. That’s what I had when I was young. When I got out of my marriage at 51, I didn’t have that problem any more. But I was still good looking and boy! If you are a Tier 2 beauty, you have to be careful. You are approached by all kinds. I have a feeling that that’s where you are now. And since you may never have had this kind of attention, or at least you haven’t for a long time, you want to take it out on a spin. I think you could have a lot of “fun”, that is, a lot of sex with different partners. But that is a hollow form of fun. What’s important in life is having a partner who loves you, one who appreciates you, who is supportive of you and your goals.
I think you have that in your husband.
And guess what? If you let him go, I’m betting there will be another woman who will pick him up, brush him off and love him forever. So go ahead, if that’s what you want to do. It may be better for him. It was for me🙂. And it’s been better for everyone who loves me. My parents love the one I’m with now; they did NOT feel that way about their former son-in-law. I thank God every day my parents were young when they had me so they get to enjoy him🙂. Things like that are my version of fun, my version of “enjoying life.”
Garlic Chicken with Green Noodles
Ingredients
- 1 package green spinach noodles
- 4 tablespoons unsalted butter
- 6 to 8 boneless chicken breasts, without skin
- 20 cloves garlic, peeled
- 2 cups chicken broth (homemade or Swanson)
- Salt and red pepper
Instructions
- Salt and pepper chicken breasts to taste (cut back on salt if using canned broth).
- Put salted water on to boil for noodles.
- Melt butter in a 10 inch skillet over medium-high heat. When butter is bubbling, add garlic and chicken to pan. Brown chicken for 3 to 4 minutes on each side (turn garlic often as not to scorch).
- Remove chicken to plate and add chicken broth to skillet.
- Put noodles in boiling water to cook.
- When broth comes to a boil, let boil for 2 minutes, then add chicken back to pan. Lower heat a little.
- Drain noodles when done and place in large bowl or platter.
- Arrange chicken on noodles.
- Serve immediately.
Notes
Yes, that is 20 cloves of garlic, it is not a misprint. There is a strong garlic taste, but a spicy, nutty flavor due to the browning!
New Evidence for Giant Impact 12800 Years Ago? Let’s Discuss
A Real Date
Written in response to: “Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.“
Pete R.
I heard Sally’s voice, but she distorted it and tried to make it sound lower. It was confusing. She said, “Sally is not home right now, come back another time.”
“Sally,” I said, “It’s me! I have something to talk to you about, I think it’s important.” I heard some more mumbling from behind the door, and finally, the yellow door squeaked open.
“Oh, it’s you.” Sally said, her hazel eyes just peaking out from behind the door. “I didn’t expect it to be you.”
I pushed the door open wider and saw the whole scene. She was finishing buttoning up her pink blouse. She had messed up some of the buttons and I could see her brassiere underneath. I looked at her face, and I saw that her eyes were dark, smeared with mascara, her cherry lip balm was all smudged around her lips, and her hair was all frazzled and out of place. Even her skirt seemed to be put on in a rushed way. Though Sally started to say more to me, I did not hear her.
I looked over her shoulder. My heart sank into the darkest depths of the ocean, I became just like the ancient ships sunk long ago; an empty, hollow vessel long forgotten at the bottom of the depths of the world.
In the shadows of her home, which had no lights on, I saw a human-looking thing—but it was like no human I’d ever seen before. The light from outside splashed subtly onto its features. Its gray, sallow skin was wrinkled. Its arms were long and grotesque. Its fingers were pale and lifeless, yet the thing moved, ever so slightly. I saw black bulbous eyes, and where the nose should be, I saw nothing. There was the thinnest sliver of darkness where its mouth supposedly was. Around its barren features, there was the smudge of pink cherry lip balm. There was a trail of it down the thing’s bare, thin chest.
I looked back at Sally; her eyes looked accusing and uncaring for me, as though I was nothing of interest. Her eyes were pointed with anger.
“This is why I didn’t open the damn door,” she said, the face beneath her muddled makeup growled with anger.
The gray thing got up out of its chair. Its long, dangling limbs propelled down to the floor like hanging nooses. Its long, sharp fingers reached out for me and I swear I saw the thing lick its lips with two tongues whispering from its mouth.
Sally reached her own hand out and yanked at the ruffles of my shirt. Everything went black and warm and wet.
Today’s MM post on YouTube
Also just a short 20 second video.
Pictures
Sir Whiskerton and The Sting Identity
A Tale of Mistaken Buzz-ness, Royal Wrath, and One Very Confused Beekeeper
Act I: The Bump That Started It All
The chaos began when Beatrice the Beekeeper (normally a sensible woman in a sensible sun hat) took a tumble into her own honey cart. She emerged with:
-
A bump the size of a blueberry on her forehead
-
A bread basket strapped to her back (improvised exoskeleton)
-
The unshakable belief she was a bee
“BY ORDER OF THE HIVE,” she proclaimed, buzzing her lips, “ALL FLOWERS SHALL PAY POLLEN TAXES!”
Sir Whiskerton, mid-nap on a sunflower, opened one eye. “Oh dear.”
Act II: The Hive Hostage Situation
Beatrice stormed the Golden Honeycomb Hive, demanding royal treatment:
-
“I REQUIRE A THRONE OF WAX!” (She settled for a butter dish.)
-
“SERVANTS SHALL FAN ME WITH PETALS!” (The bees retaliated by fanning her away.)
-
“I CHALLENGE THE QUEEN TO A DANCE-OFF FOR THE CROWN!” (She attempted the “Waggle Waltz” and pulled a muscle.)
The real bees convened an emergency council.
Queen Bee: [Deadpan] “Get. Her. Out.”
Worker Bee #12: “She called our honey ‘store-brand syrup.'”
Worker Bee #45: “Also, she’s terrible at flying.”
Act III: The Intervention
The farm animals staged a “Remember You’re Human” intervention:
-
Porkchop: “You snore in B-flat. That’s kinda buzzy?”
-
Doris the Hen: “Darling, no bee wears overalls.”
-
Rufus the Dog: [Sneezing] “Also, you’re allergic to bees!”
Undeterred, Beatrice issued a hive-wide edict:
“ALL HUMANS SHALL ADDRESS ME AS ‘YOUR STINGINESS.'”
The farmer, panicking, lobbed a jar of honey as a distraction. It worked. (“Ooooh… shiny…”)
Act IV: The Royal Recovery
After a nap, a cold compress, and three failed attempts to pollinate a tulip, Beatrice blinked.
“…Why am I covered in bees?”
The Queen sighed in relief. *“Take her away before she remembers the dance-off.”
As the farmer led Beatrice home, the bees changed their locks.
The Moral of the Story
Moral: Identity crises are best solved before you start demanding hive taxes.
Post-Credit Scene
Beatrice’s “Bee Phase” becomes farm legend. The hens perform a dramatic reenactment titled The Waggle That Went Wrong.
Best Lines:
-
“I’ll sting the next peasant who questions my authority!” – Beatrice, waving a butter knife
-
“That’s not a stinger. That’s a spoon.” – Sir Whiskerton
-
“We’re anarchists! We don’t have taxes!” – Rebellious Worker Bee
Starring:
-
Beatrice (Temporary Tyrant Bee)
-
Queen Bee (Over It)
-
Sir Whiskerton (Diplomatic Cat-astrophe)
-
The Bees (Exhausted NPCs)
Key Jokes:
-
Beatrice’s “hive security force” (three confused ladybugs).
-
The farmer’s “beekeeper costume” (just his regular clothes, but with jazz hands).
-
Porkchop’s beekeeping advice: “Smoke ‘em out! Wait, no—that’s BBQ.”
P.S.
Remember: If you must have an existential crisis, avoid any species that works weekends.
The End.
Buzzing off now,
The Sir Whiskerton Team 🐝
5 Strange & Shocking SOLVED MYSTERIES
Sight Unseen
Written in response to: “Set your story after aliens have officially arrived on Earth.“
Jean Ballard
Cut to footage of city lights flickering and dimming, and people looking up at the sky in puzzlement.
NEWS ANCHOR: Next, we have received numerous accounts of strange lights in the sky, captivating witnesses with their extraordinary and erratic movements.
Bright orbs appear to be darting across the night sky in the footage, leaving trails of light behind them.
NEWS ANCHOR: Authorities have also raised concerns about the increasing number of missing persons cases. While not all missing person reports are related to the alien presence, they are taking these incidents very seriously.
Footage shows police investigators searching for clues, and families holding pictures of their loved ones.
NEWS ANCHOR: Now, we understand the desire to learn more about these unwelcome visitors, but it is crucial to remember that seeking out these extraterrestrials can be dangerous. The extraterrestrial beings remain a relatively unknown entity, and caution is advised.
On the screen, a sign reads “Restricted Area” with a silhouette of a stereotypical alien figure, cautioning against trespassing.
NEWS ANCHOR: For those who may encounter any of these warning signs, authorities urge you to keep a safe distance and report your observations immediately. The global community is working together to better understand these visitors and ensure the safety of all.
Cut back to the news anchor, who looks directly at the camera with a solemn expression.
NEWS ANCHOR: We will continue to keep you updated on any developments and further information. In the meantime, let us remember that while the presence of extraterrestrial life is unsettling and even fascinating to some, we must proceed with caution and respect the boundaries set by the authorities.
The anchor nods, concluding the segment.
NEWS ANCHOR: Stay tuned for more news after the break.
The news anchor takes a deep, uneasy breath before the cameras stop rolling and the program cuts to commercial advertisements.
—–
The news ticker at the bottom of the screen continued to display a list of warning signs, a relentless reminder of the unnamed alien presence that had now become known to the entirety of the world three months prior. I couldn’t help but be captivated by the gravity of the situation, my fascination pulling me towards curiosity as well as despair.
I glanced at the clock and realized I was already running late for work. Hastily getting dressed, I grabbed my bag and dashed out the door. The streets were unusually quiet, an unsettling calm that mirrored the hushed atmosphere of the news program. My interest lingered as I contemplated the alleyway shortcut that beckoned to me. Against my better judgment, I decided to take the path less traveled. It would be quicker, after all.
The alley was dimly lit, shrouded in a thick fog that seemed to swallow sounds and distort reality. As I ventured further, I became aware of a faint glow emanating from an obscured figure lurking in the shadows. The lights seemed to drift into the sky like a feather riding the fog.
My heart pounded in my chest, and an inexplicable sense of unease washed over me. The silhouette of the figure appeared human, but something was off; something uncanny that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I hesitated, my instincts warning me to retreat, but an irresistible curiosity urged me forward. L’appel du vide.
As I approached, the eerie glow became more pronounced, revealing the face of the figure. It looked almost human. I may have even thought it was another human being if not for my scrutinizing gaze but, upon closer inspection, the subtle differences became evident. The figure’s skin was pallid and unblemished, mirroring the texture of human flesh, but with an otherworldly sheen that betrayed its true nature. And its eyes. Its eyes, large and hauntingly black, seemed to absorb any light that dared to touch them. At a casual glance, they seemed almost ordinary, like dark voids in a sea of white. But upon closer inspection, something was terribly amiss.
Then, with a sudden and calculated movement, the figure’s eyes transformed. Within the obsidian depths of its eyes, sinuous black tendrils snaked and coiled, barely visible at first, as if they were hidden within the depths of its being. But then, with a slow and deliberate movement, those unnerving tendrils started to emerge. Like dark serpents, they slithered out, searching for their next prey.
More disturbingly, each tendril extended further, revealing smaller branches that resembled twisted, contorted fingers. Each of the branches hosted countless minuscule, barely perceptible eyes along its length. These tiny eyes, black as the void itself, were mere pinpricks, yet they emanated an ominous aura that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of one’s soul. Their gazes were haunting, empty of any emotion, devoid of the humanity they now sought to possess. They stalked through the fog like a legion of watchful sentinels, searching for unsuspecting victims. It was as if the alien had evolved to exploit the most profound fear of humanity; being watched, scrutinized, and ultimately ensnared in a malevolent web of possession.
A chilling realization dawned upon me, but it was already too late. The tendrils shot forth with terrifying speed, seeking out my eyes with unerring precision. Before I could react, they latched onto my ocular orbs, and an icy shiver of violation washed over me, as the pupils of the extraterrestrial and my own were linked through these snakelike branches. This link caused my body to become numb, paralyzed by some power I did not understand.
At first, it was a mere discomfort, a sensation of intrusion. But the tendrils’ presence seeped deeper into my consciousness, spreading like an insidious virus throughout my mind. The alien’s essence melded with my thoughts and emotions, an invasion of my very identity.
Reality began to warp around me, the alleyway twisting and distorting into a surreal nightmare. The once-familiar surroundings morphed into a nightmarish canvas, painted with foreboding signs of the alien’s presence. The fog seemed to clutch at my every step as if the atmosphere itself was manipulated by the malevolent entity.
With each passing moment, I could feel myself slipping away, losing control to the alien force. The tendrils, now fully entrenched in my being, extended deeper, their tiny eyes watching, absorbing my memories and emotions. It felt as if the interior of my body was now only a shell for these tendrils to make their home.
I tried to resist, to claw back control over my own body, but it was futile. The alien’s power over me was absolute. My eyes, once windows to my soul, now mirrored the cold, abyssal gaze of the entity that had ensnared me.
The transformation was agonizingly slow, like the ebb and flow of a tidal wave, a relentless process that engulfed my consciousness. My once-clear thoughts were possessed by an evil presence, and my emotions became mere echoes of what they once were.
As the alien’s possession deepened, the alleyway came alive with haunting whispers, each voice a chilling echo of malevolence. Shadows danced with a vile life of their own, and the walls of the alley bore grotesque graffiti that seemed to twist and writhe. Much like my own body, the shell of the world was now a host to all that is wicked.
I had become a mere puppet, my actions manipulated by the abhorrent force that now controlled me. Every step I took was no longer my own, and with each passing moment, my sense of self faded further into oblivion.
A sense of despair enveloped me. I was now lost and trapped in a nightmarish reality that was not my own. My screams of desperation echoed within, unheard by the world outside, a futile plea for escape. The alien entity had woven its sinister tendrils into the very fabric of my being, leaving me a mere husk of my former self.
Beware the nearly human figure with eyes of darkness, for its uncanny appearance hides an insidious force that seeks to possess and control. Once ensnared by its tendrils, your fate is sealed, and you’ll be forever condemned to wander the shadows, a vessel for the nefarious entity that lurks within, hidden behind a facade of humanity. The boundary between human and alien dissolves, and in the depths of the alleyways, their malevolent machinations thrive.
Would a tiger attack and eat a dog if they grew up together from age 0?
Meet Michael Jamison.
He lives in South Africa and has his Youtube Vlog.
He has two Tigers – Diego and Enzo
He also has over 20–30 dogs
Now the younger tiger spent and played with Dogs as a Cub and lived with Michael, ate and slept with Dogs and Cats and Monkeys.
However as the Tiger became bigger and bigger – Michael had to move the Tiger into the enclosure with the Bigger Tiger
Later on one day – some years later – one of the dogs slipped into the Tigers Cage.
The Dog had been the playmate of the Younger Tiger
The Dog growled at the Tiger but both the Tigers were cool as cucumbers. They did not harm the dog in any way. In fact the Bigger Tiger protected the Dog from the Younger one and Michael was able to safely take away the Dog.
So i regard Michael Jamison as an expert on Tigers and their Behaviour
This is what he says
Michael says that his Tigers dont consider his dogs or monkeys or cats as Natural Prey. However they have wild instincts and when they see dogs running or cats running – they will give chase because that is genetics.
And since a Tiger is 300 Kilograms and has a very strong bite – a simple bite would be fatal to a Dog or a Cat. The Neck would snap instantly.
However he says if a Puppy and a Tiger cub are raised together every minute of every day – then there is no chance because the Tiger will learn how to control its strength and will regard the dog as nothing more than a companion.
He says he separated his Tiger when it grew up because he felt that the Tiger now 200+ Kilos could cause him actual harm just by playing with him.
NASA’s Forgotten Skylab Plans
Gingered Lemon Chicken
Prep: 10 min | Cook: 10 min | Yield: 4 servings
Ingredients
- 2 cups broccoli florets
- 1 tablespoon oil, divided
- 12 ounces chicken breast halves, cut into strips
- 1 cup chicken broth
- 1 tablespoon cornstarch
- 1 1/2 teaspoons lemon peel, finely shredded
- 1/2 teaspoon ground ginger
- 1 (14 1/2 ounce) can Del Monte® Sliced Carrots, drained
Instructions
- Cook broccoli until crisp tender in half the oil in a large skillet.
- Remove and add remaining oil to skillet.
- Cook chicken until no longer pink.
- Stir together broth, cornstarch, lemon peel and ginger. Add to skillet.
- Cook and stir until thickened and bubbly.
- Add vegetables and heat through.
- Serve over rice, if desired.
How has a friend’s spouse surprised you?
I lost my wife six months earlier. I became the sole caretaker of a three-month preemie and his older brothers and sister. My backyard neighbors were close friends. But she was always hesitant around the little one. He was just so small and seemingly frail.
I can attest that he was anything but frail! If he survived my manhandling he could survive anything!
And then it happened. I caught the flu. I am usually religious in getting my flu shot because when I catch it it is debilitating, and all I can do it let it run its course.
But of course, I was busy with a new life and lifestyle, and I just had no time to myself to get a flu vaccine.
Everything was a fog. It took every bit of strength to feed and change the baby. I had to let the others fend for themselves. After one bottle feeding I passed out from exhaustion.
I heard someone come into my bedroom. I heard them go to the crib. And then I heard a woman’s voice saying “I’m taking the kids. You’re quarantined. Call if you need anything.”
And that was that. There was silence. I slept for 24 hours and woke up with a start.
Did I dream that? Where is everyone? Where is my baby?
I called Denise, and she asked how I was feeling. I told her like crap, but I asked if she knew where my kids were.
She said “I told you I was taking them. They’re here, and everyone is good.”
I realized I didn’t dream it. She saved me, and she saved the kids.
In another couple of months she quit her job and became my kids’ nanny. Every morning my older kids would walk to her house and she would take them to school. Afterwards she would walk to my house and take the baby in his stroller to hers so I could work from home uninterrupted.
I owe them such a debt of gratitude as I do the entire little town I lived in at the time.
It definitely takes a village to raise a child, but that woman was the mayor of my personal village.
All HELL BREAKS LOOSE as Iran just damaged another 10 US refuelling planes in Saudi Arabia – OPTM
If a man breaks into your home and you don’t have a firearm, how do you protect your family; especially if the man is much bigger than you and/or armed with a weapon?
Good question.
I’m Chinese. I can understand all the policies of the CPC, but one thing I don’t like is the complete ban on guns.
Marx and Engels supported the idea of citizens owning firearms. Engels said, “If every citizen had a gun and fifty bullets at home, which government would dare to infringe on political freedom?”
As for Chairman Mao, that goes without saying. “What’s the fighting in Beijing? Just cold weapons, a few shots fired. The real fighting was in Sichuan, with tens of thousands on both sides, with guns and cannons, and I heard even radios.” In fact, civilians at weapons factories in Sichuan built tanks to join the battle.
But, different environments, different ideas—I can only say it’s how it is.
The CPC used endless patience and money to enforce the gun ban, and in the end, they succeeded completely.
The vast majority of the population supports it as well.
When I was in middle school, I still had a hunting rifle for shooting rabbits; in high school, only a high-pressure air gun. By university, unless on the black market, you couldn’t buy a single gun… Around the year 2000, guns became serious crimes, like drugs.
From all this, you probably know I’m not a typical Chinese person.
Indeed, not typical. A typical Chinese person farms, does business, makes money.
But I’ve always felt a lack of security. My ancestors were all soldiers…
China is now such a safe country that even at 3 a.m., a 12-year-old girl can go anywhere to buy something.
I’m still tense and scared.
Always alert.
When the delivery knocks at the door, I ask cautiously: “Who is it?”
Even when I see them through the peephole, I remain vigilant.
I have a steel security door worth 1,000 yuan, always ready to throw my full body weight against it as a shield, while grabbing a weapon from the shelf with my right hand.
For example, this one.
Or it could be someone checking the gas meter, or local police wanting me to download an anti-fraud app…
Every time, I stay on alert, staring through the peephole: “Who?”
Maybe ten thousand times by now.
I don’t know why; I’m just like this, always worried, always scared. I even stockpile dried fruits, vitamins, vacuum-packed rice, salt, and honey, and practice archery…
Later I found out that people like this exist in the West too—they call them survivalists T_T
SpaceX Engineers SHOCKED: China’s Station Uses Tech NASA Can’t Copy…
Obviously written by an American. Ha ha.