Napoleon Dynamite is garbage.

It might give independents more of a voice.

And it worked better before information was so easy to obtain.

I skipped first grade, and my second grade teacher stuck me in the corner by myself because I talked too much. After I learned my lesson, she would send struggling students to me to tutor them, and told my mom she had no plans to move me back out of the corner. Next thing I knew, I had a new teacher.

But the worst was the math teacher who casually sexually violated the female students.

Welp, that’s it. I’m giving up on life.

Most deserts have life, which you would kill. But for sandy deserts, have you never built a sand castle?

The reasons are legion, starting with the fact that it wouldn’t work.

The reality women live with is even in this thread, which has more than one comment focusing on how stupid this guy was to do it on camera, rather than how stupid and disgusting it is to do it at all.

He absolutely SHOULD get a second chance just like the one he gave Kandula.

Gardening. There are a million things to learn, and every year is an adventure.

Also making things from yarn. So many different techniques, yarns, styles, and colors. And if you have a project that is easy, you can binge watch at the same time.

As a kid, I had a Goofy watch that was like this.

Exactly like this one: https://www.ebay.com/itm/134256287724

Besides various scriptural books, “But He Never Hit Me” by Dr. Jill Murray.

I was up late one night, unable to sleep because of fear after my ex left. I didn’t have cable or anything, but I had broadcast TV on to down out the silence. Dr. Phil had an episode about domestic violence, and my eyes were locked to the screen. The phrase that kept running through my mind as I watched was “at least he never hit me.”

He had Dr. Murray on as a guest at the end, and my jaw dropped when I heard the title of the book she promoted. The next day, I mentioned it to my mom, who mentioned it to my brother, who worked at Borders. A few days later, I got a copy in the mail from him.

I started reading the first few pages and couldn’t continue. It sat on my shelf for months before I finally opened it and slowly—very slowly for a person who used to read over a dozen books per weekend—got through the whole book.

By the end, I had a name for what is been living through, and I finally realized I had done nothing significantly wrong in my marriage. It changed my life. For better, because it gave me the strength to avoid abusive relationship patterns. For the worse because that has turned out to be every single man I’ve tried to date.

Now I’m alone because I can’t bring myself to try for any more relationships. And the fallout from trying to raise kids also raised by an abuser, and having a child with trauma-related BPD , has left me almost completely isolated from anyone.

But I have a very sensitive abuse radar now, at least.

Because I can finally put myself first.

My default setting is to take care of others. I got perilously close to ending my own life over the last year or so. So I’m trying to learn to put myself first long enough to see my youngest turn 18. Without me, my kids would have to go back to live with an abuser. I only have to survive 4 more years.

No. It’s just more a feeling like my body is a tool I’m using. It’s not me, and has little to do with me personally any more than a hammer I use is personal.

I’ve never felt particularly connected to my body.

Not to discount your opposition to their point, which should be opposed, but you do know that sexuality is pretty fluid for a vast number of people along the Kinsey scale, right? For a lot of people, they ARE heterosexual because they are indoctrinated that way from an early age. Not everyone capable of being sexually fluid identifies that way.

When I acted as a lead for two years while they dragged their feet on giving me the official title, then immediately gave it and a major raise to my successor (who I mentored to midrange from junior) when I switched departments. I threw away the whole company, which ironically prided themselves on diversity and made a big deal about it every chance they got.

There was only one female leader in the entire division, and she was only put on fluff projects. I went to a supposedly conservative company, which gave me the title and a 50% raise within the first year.

Having worked in a vet office where these were fished out of intestines regularly, DON’T let your cats play with small pieces of plastic like this. Nor hair ties, yarn, string, small paper bits like labels or receipts, or coins.

Goat is a bit of an acquired taste. That’s why it’s usually heavily spiced and stewed or slow cooked. And it’s not like people eat a ton of mutton, either.

I really hope phrases like “he got Musked” and “they Musked up” become a thing.