Donward

Toxn, you reactionary Luddite. Don't you know the future is Stillsuits as prophesied by Frank Herbert. Remember one of greatest lines ever uttered in movie history! "Urine and feces are processed in thigh pads".

At first I thought this was a new Scandinavian metal band. But as cool as that would have been, this article talks about a new state of matter that scientists have discovered. http://www.sciencealert.com/scientists-have-discovered-a-new-state-of-matter-the-jahn-teller-effect

Yeah. I've never eaten any of the old stuff. Any of the MREs that I had were from the mid-1990s on. My step-dad Rip has some interesting stories about commercial fishing on Kodiak Island in the 1970s and 1980s and much of the fare was old dehydrated World War 2 surplus. The only way they survived was that Rip's dad had crab pots that they'd drop (probably illegally) before going out for the fishing period. And when they came back to the cannery they'd trade fresh king crab with the Filipino cooks for frozen steaks and burgers. My wife has been fishing with her family since she was 9 years old. One of the great traditions of Alaska is the public garbage dump which is an official swap meet and nature watching trip rolled all into one. The matrons of my wife's family were her grandmother and great-aunt who ran the fish camp with an iron fist. They were also inveterate "pickers" and would comb the garbage dump for anything. Old clothes. Old fishing equipment. Old food that the cannery wouldn't even feed their fishermen let alone actual cannery employees. Apparently the greatest find was cases and cases of dried "hollow spaghetti" which must have been made sometime during the Korean War and was of sufficient quantity and quality to last the fish camp for a decade or more. My wife has a jar of it somewhere as a momento/warning. e

I've always enjoyed the MREs that I've come across although, my experience is as a Mark 1 Civilian and even the terrible options are "fun" when you're eating them with friends or on the trail or whatever. I think much of the importance of having home-cooked food for the soldiers in the field is more of a psychological and morale issue in addition to the health benefits form eating real grub. In less than a month, I'll be heading up to Alaska again for the summer. Our first shipment of food is on a barge somewhere in the Pacific Ocean between here in Alaska. We generally go to Costco and Grocery Outlet or "Used Foods" as we call it to buy our food. There are different philosophies that each boat uses. Most fishing boat captains and their crews opt for the cans of chili, Dinty Moore stew and top ramen approach. We generally go for better quality of food particularly since it honestly doesn't cost that much more. Plus we take about a hundred pounds of frozen food (steaks, ground beef, cheese, etc) with us as carry-on luggage on our flight. When we're up there, we eat good. And that's because we work hard. And it is psychologically draining eating garbage after you've slaved for 12 or 18 or 24 hours in a row with nothing to eat but granola bars. So, with that said, after about a month or so of eating your own cooking, and my wife and I are foodies and we know how to cook, I can tell you it sucks eating your own cooking. And it is so much of a treat just to sit down and have someone else serve you chow with the option of eating "fresh" salad and "fresh" dairy products from the cannery cook hall. I imagine in an even more dreary and dangerous location like Iraq or Afghanistan, having the option of eating some fried chicken or real turkey and gravy or steak and potatoes would be an absolute luxury for the troops over there.

So the 7.62 is the equivalent of Kabuli Palaw, korma and kebabs? Hell. Given the choice between that and what Virdea described, I'm wrapping a towel around my head and deserting like Bowe Bergdahl. Damn it, now I want to go to an Afghan restaurant. ... ... Yes, I know the Afghans don't wear towels on their heads.

Yeah. And folks wonder why farmers and land owners plaster "No Trespassing" signs everywhere and refuse to allow hunters anywhere near their property. When my folks finally drug the family out of Rat City and we moved out to the country to Eatonville, we dealt with "hunters" treating our land as their private game reserve. And by hunters, I mean the typical poachers and stick-slingers (i.e. guys with felonies who know longer can own a firearm but still want to hunt) cutting our fences in the middle of the night.

I've seen horse owners post signs every 100 feet along their fence asking hunters not to shoot their horses. The COW trick is pretty excessive if one has to go that far.

I've done the exact opposite as I currently reside in Snoqualmie, about two miles from the famous falls of the same name. Don't miss it one bit. Although I do get to venture into my old stomping grounds such as my friend's BBQ yesterday on Beacon Hill where my ghetto senses were put to good use deciphering the sounds of a drive by shooting down below on Rainier Avenue. For those of you not familiar with Seattle's geography, the areas that I mentioned are - despite the ravages of gentrification - are locations where the economically disenfranchised continue to congregate. Suburban friends who moved to the City: Wow. That sounds like a car backfiring. Don: No. That's gunfire. Probably a handgun. Probably a low caliber revolver since there were six shots. Friends: No. But they sounded like they were moving. Don: It's a drive-by shooting.

I've actually wanted to do jury duty (the naive belief that it's the duty of a citizen to take part in this basic and primary function government). I've been a registered voter for two decades now and have taken part in most elections. And have never once even received a jury summons let alone gone to the courthouse.

The most divisive subject on SH returns. How to Create Millions of Liters of Juice from One Grapefruit.

She was a tourist from Texas...

Also, title should emphasize the Duck boat putting the CRUSH into Candy Crush.

In many ways it's like that the world over. Go to any major city and there are the handful of key tourist traps that suck up the majority of the attention. Everyone wants to get their picture taken at the Pyramids or the Eiffel Tower or Stonehenge or the Space Needle and do the same thing that everyone else has done before.

It's really about certain people not having the wherewithal to do the bare minimum in order to survive. Every time I drive in the city, I see folks who just assume that I will not run them down and turn them into a bloody smear on the pavement whenever the "Walk" sign flashes at an intersection. And while I am flattered at this faith that they have in my driving skills, I worry that this same trust is extended to other drivers in the City of Seattle. Because it's not like it is completely unheard of that cars and trucks run red lights (or fucking bicyclists) nor is it completely unheard of that a vehicle can't stop because of a malfunction in their braking system or perhaps the driver is suffering from a medical emergency. Worse, at times there is a sense of entitlement in the fact that certain pedestrians (and fucking bicyclists) assume that you will yield to them whenever they wander out into the road. As a funny story, when I attended the University of Washington, it was pretty flagrant how many times students and faculty would just step out onto the street in front of you, regardless if there was an intersection or crosswalk, and assume that you'd just stop your car. Now most of the time I drove either my Toyota pickup truck or my mom's 1990 Honda Civic onto the campus. But a few times (three or four) I was forced to use the farm truck, which was a 1969 Ford F-100 with a 302 V-8 with straight exhaust pipes coming right out of the headers. And I can tell you, whenever I drove that truck onto campus, no one jumped out in front of me.

Tourism has been Egypt's bread and butter for well over a century. I'm wondering how many of the original blocks and pieces will be incorporated into the new lighthouse, assuming this project is ever finished. I didn't know that about the Greeks at Delphi.

I suppose it would work equally well for notorious Pastaboos on the WoT forums.

Virdea. Toxn does come from South Africa. In fact, I have a picture of him right here...

Adding a little more information, the state of Idaho has some of the lowest per capita income in the country, usually ranking somewhere in the lowest ten states and often times dead last. On the other hand, Idaho also has one of the lowest crime rates in the country. So low income doesn't necessarily translate to higher crime. So what? Well, that and $2.99 will buy you a five pound bag of Idaho potatoes at a local grocery store. When it comes to property crime and violent crime in the United States, most instances occur in a handful of select zip codes. We all know where those areas are. Most smart folks know not to go to those select areas and certainly not at night. And none of us can really speak honestly about what goes on in those zip codes for fear of being labeled a particularly unpleasant name.

Double pasta for the record!

This sex education video from Nintendo would also be worthy of a double-tap on the Is it Fake? Or From The '90s? And I never imagined Luigi with a voice like that talking about testicles enlarging.

I shouldn't gloat. But I found a song about a goat on a boat. I suppose if I watch it enough times I'll be able to learn the song by rote.

It's because God doesn't make men like Colonel Trautman anymore.

In a world gone mad, where a single state holds an entire country captive because of a demographic time bomb of 38 million passive aggressive jerks who don't know how to drive or vaccinate their children, they said all hope was lost. Until a single continental transform fault forming a tectonic boundary between the Pacific Plate and North American Plate with a right-lateral strike-slip motion said "No more". San Andreas. The romantic comedy we've been waiting decades to see. And Superman isn't coming to save your sorry asses this time either. Californians. You've artificially driven up property and rental prices in Portland and you've transformed the scenic vistas of Colorado into a gaudy strip mall and now you want to steal water from Washington state. But guess what? Mother nature has something else in store for you. Fuck you Californians! Do you like the taste of water? I've got some water for you! Glub-glub! Glub-glub!

Remember kids. You may think running away to become a pirate is all adventure and flouncing around like Johnny Depp. But it was more like the boring cop and lawyer shows your parents watch at night.

Oooooooo... Too soon man, too soon.