Sorry, that came out wrong.
I am giving up. Drinking for a month.
There was, for instance, the time he conducted a crew of new S.A.R.H. (Society for the Aesthetic Rearrangement of History -BJ) recruits – all from late twentieth-century Terra – on a training study of Carter’s World, a newly established agricultural colony attempting to support itself by the export of edible nuts. Barely into their second generation, and having yet to show a profit, the colonists were technologically backward. Nevertheless, they showed a surprising ingenuity in the use of their few advantages. It was this resourcefulness that Feghoot was demonstrating to his rookies.
“Look at the perfection with which these streets are graded”, exclaimed one student. “Earth-moving machinery on this scale is strictly high technology stuff. How can they do it?”
“A new alleyway is being constructed, nearby”, said Feghoot. “Let us walk that way while I explain.” As they strolled, he told his students that countless centuries before, the Carter’s World system had been inhabited by a now-vanished race of giants. This very planet had served them for a nursery, and among the many artifacts they had left were thousands of childrens blocks, immense and precision-cut. You simply jack one up onto logs, bring it where you want it, put collapsible jacks underneath, snake out the logs, spread soil more or less evenly beneath, and collapse the jacks.
“I see”, said the student. “It’s not graded road at all; its a simple hammered-earth base.”
“That’s right,” Feghoot went on smoothly. “You just hit the road jack and don’t come back no mo.”
His students registered dismay and anguish.
“Isn’t that right, old-timer?,” Feghoot demanded of an ancient Carterian standing by the mouth of the newly completed alley they had just reached.
“Ahm afraid not, suh”, said the senior citizen, and the students giggled at Feghoots discomfiture. “Oh, we used to do it that way, but it was far too much trouble. It’s the soil heah. You see, the very same soil which produced our famous cashews is so high in clay content that a child could roll out a road of it. Then, we simply use a system of lenses to bake it into hardness. Ahve just completed this alley mahself, and ahm just a retired professor of Sports History, much too old and feeble to handle hydraulic jacks.
“So you see,” he finished, eyes twinkling, “Mah hammered alley is really cashews clay.”
Howls of agony rose from the students, but Feghoot never hesitated. “And he”, he said, turning to his students, “is clearly the gradi
... keep reading on reddit ➡They're in a car in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly, the car starts making noise and stops completely.
The electrician quickly says: it must be the spark plugs! I will take a look and change them.
The mecanician responds : no it's the transmission! I gotta jack the car and make sure the clutch is ok.
The informatician confidently asks: what if we just get out of the car and come right back in?
After failing to win for about 9 times in a row, Jaime, hired a spy who will go and check Jack's harvest the night before the contest so he can harvest more. As the spy came back the night before, he informed the farmer Jaime about the amount that he saw inside Jack's yard but he was not able to tell the amount in exact. Jaime took the spy to his paddy field, gave him some extra money than what they initially agreed upon and said...
"You reap what you saw".
Hey guys. As I'm sure most of you know, it's currently Thanksgiving in Canada. This time of year for me has, in the past, caused a lot of issues in my life.
To give a little bit of background on me, I'm usually an extremely healthy and fit guy, as I play high-level sports and have a physically demanding job. However, for much of my life, my willpower began to crumble around this time of year.
I first started taking my diet seriously when I was about 12 years old. I had some kind of realization where like, I dunno, I started looking at how jacked these movie stars were and was all, "wow, I want to be that cool too." Judging by the bowl cut I had when I was 12, my perception of cool may have been a little skewed, but I digress.
Anyhow, it was my first Thanksgiving where everything started falling apart. One of my relative's families ended up no-showing for dinner, so we were left with a load of Thanksgiving leftovers. For the next week, every single meal or snack I had was Thanksgiving themed. Sandwich? Turkey sandwich. Breakfast? Let's dollop some cranberry sauce on that bad boy. By the next week, my BGC (blood gravy content) was probably at like 1.0%.
You'd think I'd be sick of holiday food after that. But no. I loved it.
The tradition of refrigerated Thanksgiving snacks continued throughout the rest of my teen years. Like clockwork, the numbers on the scale would significantly jump upwards in October, with Halloween candy adding an extra layer of calories on top. By the time I reached 17, my waist had begun noticeably ballooning, and I realized it was all due to Thanksgiving turkey. Sure, I had some at Christmas and sometimes at Easter, but never like that. My mother would encourage this habit, making more food each year to be stuffed into our packed refrigerator.
The movie star bod I wanted for so much at the age of 12 was slipping a way. I needed to put an end to this.
Flash forward to October 2015, age 18. I had made a vow: I never again would place such putrid poultry onto my tastebuds. And ever since that fateful week of 2014, my vow had held true.
Each Thanksgiving, I can feel that craving for chilled turkey knocking on the refrigerator door of my fragile ego. For three years, I've held strong. But when will the garrison fall? When will that soft, biting flesh of the big bird smash it's way back into my life.
But so far, I've quit cold turkey.
This is the story of Jack and the Beanstalk, after the story ends. After chopping down the beanstalk, Jack realizes that he’s actually pretty damn good with an axe, and casual vegetative vandalism really struck his fancy, so he began chopping down other trees for a living. He became a traveling woodsman, and he enjoyed many years of his simple life of manual labor.
One day, as he chops wood, he hears screams from a nearby cottage. Hurriedly breaking in (because recall: jack has no problem with entering houses uninvited), he sees a cross dressing lycanthrope attempting to devour a little girl dressed all in red and her little grandmother too. Wielding his trusty axe, Jack murdered yet another fantasy creature, and safely led Little Red all the way back home. Answering the door was a beautiful woman of around his age. After sending Little Red to bed, the two of them talked for hours.
One thing led to another, and a year later they were married with a child on the way. They had a beautiful little boy named Jack Junior who followed in his father’s steps to become a woodsman. This was fortunate, because as Junior grew up, Jack was feeling the pain of his previous adventures. An old back injury from jumping from the beanstalk was haunting him, and over time his posture grew more and more hunched. He had a tough time working, but at least Junior was becoming a strapping young man.
One day, Jack and Junior took the long road to the grandmothers place to bring her a meal, just like that fateful trio Red took so many years ago. When they arrived, the grandmother greeted them cheerily, welcoming them in and making conversation. “Oh Junior,” she said, “you’ve grown into such a handsome and strong young man. It’s so kind of you to handle all the work so your poor father, with his bad back and all, doesn’t have to. Why don’t you have a girlfriend yet?” Junior hesitated. “Well Grandma,” he replied. “It’s because... I’m gay”. The close-minded, set-in-her-ways grandma’s expression became stormy. She pulled poor hunched-over Jack into adjacent room, and whispered angrily: “Jack, your life is a mess! Your posture is terrible and your son isn’t giving me any grandsons!” Jack replied: “Ma, we’re happy, you can’t just-“ But she interrupted. “No excuses!” She snapped. “You need to straighten your lumbar, Jack!”
Who's there?
Jack.
Jack who?
Why does everybody want to go back to Jakku?!
I was grabbing dinner with a bud and we were talking about me heading to his place to do car work - I don't know how to change my oil nor have the space so I'm doing it at my buds place. The following conversation ensues after we verify plans to change my oil:
Bud: Oh, hey, do you know how to rotate your tires properly?
Me: I know you have to take them off then switch positions.
Bud: No, you jack the car up then spin them a bit!
Guffaws were had.
sidebar, to properly rotate tires, front tires go on opposite back tires and back tires go straight forward Front left goes back right, back right goes front right, etc.
I was asked to help chauffeur a carload of youth around town for a Christmas caroling activity last night. One of the names on the list was Jack, who lost his wife earlier this year. Jack is in his early 90's, stands about 5'2, and is quite possibly the king of all dad jokes.
So, the group of about 25 kids and 5 adults sneak up to his doorstep and begin singing a few short Christmas carols. Eventually, he opens the door and is thrilled to have visitors.
After we are finished singing and the kids are all running back to the vehicles to get out of the 15 degree weather, jack steps out of his doorway and on to his porch. He is wearing a light t-shirt and pajama pants... he was setting us up, and we took the bait, hook, line, and sinker.
Woman: Are you freezing?
Jack: No, I'm not freezing, I'm Jack (pause for laughter)
Jack: but if you hang on for just a minute, I can get freezing for you.
and then he just stood there smiling at us. It was precious. Come to find out, Jack is entering a retirement home in a few days because he is getting to the point that it is hard to take care of himself anymore.
Oh boy, those nurses are in for a treat once Jack gets settled in.
and we went to the corner store to get bait. The owner has a thick Asian accent, so when my dad asks for worms and the man asks "Worms, for fishing?", fishing sounds like pissing. He goes into the back room to get them, and he's back there for a while. My dad says "It's okay, LumbaJackCassidy, he probably had to take a fish!"
