I would I’d it didn’t literally cost me jobs, plural. I’ve dealt with enough societal racial profiling and harassment, I don’t need it compounding with my gender to utterly shit on my life when I’m minding my own damn business.
And that applies just as much for women minding THEIR OWN damn business. Leave people be!
My proverbial beef isn’t the pointing out of how manny men are predators and that the risksfor women are non-zero; my problem more specifically is that the meme stacks handily on top of the already vexing racial profiling I deal with as a black man who’s had false allegations leveled in the past and lost jobs because of the weaponization of this fear. I have already spent damn near a half century being presumed some kind of feral Mandingo rape beast purely for existing while black. The presumption of interest in all of these women like a scene out of Kentucky Fried Movie gets really old and they get super vindictive when rejected.
Because some medical experts deem it a valid and valued preventative remedy for severe phimosis. While I don’t concur, my grandfather developed a case late in life that necessitated surgical remediation.
I definitely feel you on this one. I pretty mucj took my vocal chords and fucked off when BaconReader was killed off, but even before then my visits got drastically cut back when the ability to kill the app nag was removed from web interface in monile browsers. That’s what put me onto BaconReader in the first place.
There’s a lot, most of which I make anyway for sake of cost/volume ratios, but in no particular order…
Tomato paste (love to use, can’t be arsed to make my own), sriracha (like it but don’t use enough for the amount I make), waffles (don’t crave them nearly as much as I used to), scotch eggs (love 'em, hate making 'em), pickled asparagus (which really sucks because they’re so good), lotus root chips (maybe if I had a fry daddy, air fried just doesn’t do it), chicarrones (lots off local places make 'em fresh and cheap), horchata (same), meat pies (there’s a local Brit shop that sells 'em), falafel (lots of local vendors), jalebi (way too much work)…
A friend’s brother died. It was literally out of nowhere. And said friend is stick home with Covid - which isn’t what did him in, but still. Massive suckage.
Plus it didn’t even feel like Christmas this year. Visited family, but…I dunno. It just wasn’t, this year.
Used tp use it tp voice porn (gonewildaudo).
Obviously, spez fucked that up.
Good. fuck’em.
https://m.soundcloud.com/pine-jr/king-ramses-song-man-in-gauze
Mainly because I named my phone The Slab. It’s a Note 10+, and I did the whole notification profile as different Courage screams.
Good. Fuck ElMu. ElMu sucks.
A comparatively mundane example, and possibly unremarkable to many, but I habe incredibly strong feelings about Spider Robinson’s “Callahan’s Crosstime Saloon” and “Callahan’s Lady” series. In particular, I read them during an extremely difficult point in my life, and the eponymous Law of Conservation of Pain and Joy completely changed me and my motivation in life.
Wow, people grow and change, in direct contradiction to the old dog adage.
Note that at no point is it implied that one shouldn’t feel aggrieved about past positions - only that one shouldn’t overlook changes for the better…or forget what came before.
I used this name for a specific purpose, then that purpose became irrelevant. With the API fubar, I ditched both of my profile names though this does bone one purpose of one of the old aliases (for my NSFW work) so I may end up bringing it back in some form. I like this name better though.
With its egalitarian nature, people could get a LiFE - because Lemmy is For Everyone.
Perhaps the real tea is the shitposts we made along the way.
Something Something learn from the past Something Something repeat it.
I’m a terrible person.
"Once upon a runtime things were RiF’d on a regular basis. But then things went bad. Really bad. A great migration ensued, and in federation a truth was found.
Reddit was fun. But Lemmy is for Everyone.
Mourn the Rif. Embrace LifE."
It means little from some rando, but your grief is both real and valid. May it fuel a rekindled passion here, and make for a beacon that calls friends lost and seeking, and also burn away the sorrow.
And if that light helps burn the old hangout to the ground with the landlord inside? I’ll gladly help with alibi.
My first distro was SlackWare 7.
I’m not anywhere near my desktop(s) but it has largely been an Ubuntu box of differing flavors.
Though I experimented with Yoper, Knollix, SuSe, Mint, and a few other distros.
My feelings are far less of a concern than my personal safety. The distance between ‘she was asking for it, dressed like that’ and ‘those n-bombs are all rapists, if a woman claims assault for any reason it’s guaranteed he did it’ ain’t as far apart as you seem to think.
I dunno 'bout you, but I’m sure as fuck not looking to be the next Exonerated Five example. And more importantly, being as I’m inot a trigger-happy stand-your-ground state and in the same Metropolitan area where Amber Guyger feared for her life after going into the wrong fucking apartment, I sure as hell don’t trust things to be made right or go smoothly the second white woman tears are involved.