Love this. I think not having driving was a huge contributor to my introvertedness/social anxiety. My friends were always super accommodating, but night after night I would end up stuck in places I didn’t want to be, entirely at the mercy of someone else. Was my ride drinking? Guess I’m sleeping on the floor of some weird house I don’t want to be at. My social battery would drain by 10pm and I would have to bounce around asking various friends if I couple catch a ride with them when they left, and often didn’t get out of there until 3am. It wasn’t a situation I enjoyed being in. Sometimes it was easier to be the walking wizard.

One night I was extremely drunk on Southern Comfort and mad/butt-hurt over something my love interest had said or done. Decided to walk all the way home at 2am. Unfortunately that was a 14 mi/22 km walk through a rural area, deeply intoxicated with no water. It was beautiful hearing the roosters crow over sleepy little farms at sunrise, but by the time I finally made it home I collapsed onto my bed sobbing in misery. I slept for eleven hours and spent the next day or so recovering. It’s not always noble to be the walking wizard.

My mom had a horse just like that (maybe not the eyes) and we would often ride her around our woods/property. There was a part of our swamp that was just muck, water and leaves beneath dead, spindly trees, and any time we would get close to that I would flip the fuck out because of this scene. No goliath turtles, though.

Wow, that does provoke strong imagery. That’s a great looking dog in a great looking race. I hope he wins.

He uses that shirt to lay flat on the floor of the roller rink arcade and hide until after hours. All the games are free then.

We gave send good to hims him!

My daughter (5) uses WASD proficiently, so I have hope.

My grandma had me like this when I was ten. We used to sit at her kitchen table and look them up as they flew in. I knew that thing front to back. Used to sit over there all the time looking through the pictures. She died some years ago, but I still have that old green copy of Audubon Guide to Eastern Birds. Made sure to ask for it when she died. It no longer reeks like cigarettes, but it’s all browned and brittle.

My daughter (5) loves birds now too, and we used to consult my grandma’s guide together. However, we now live in Western Canada and I was worried about the longevity of such a fragile relic, so I purchased the Western edition. Nearly identical, but red. Now my daughter runs to grab that whenever we see a new bird at the feeder.

I just blurt it out when my wife asks. It’s always the most mundane, unrelated shit. I’ll be thinking about what drove Mike Myer’s choice to make Shrek Scottish. That said, she doesn’t stress over what I’m thinking about. She’s not insecure. She just wonders what’s going on in the box sometimes. I’ll have that look. My wife is great.

I abused diphenhydramine on purpose several times during my younger years, and I had a pretty uncomfortable time every time.

Fuck, that sucks. I’m going to go look at you guys as much as possible. ❤️

Got those humpin’ hips. Can’t complain.