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  • Originally posted by naiadknight View Post
    I didn't realize West TX had cockleburrs of varieties that were long enough and strong enough to punch through VFFs and stab your foot hard enough to draw blood....
    No way. :/ Hope it feels better quickly.



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    • 1. Eat lots of animals, insects and plants.
      Was sick. Mostly lost my voice, sore throat and exhausted.
      D: goat ghosht leftovers (maybe 1/2 lb), blueberries/ blackberries and mascarpone, 1/6 apple berry clafouti, and 1 slice muenster cheese.

      2. Move around a lot at a slow pace.
      No

      3. Lift heavy things.
      Not unless you count dragging my ass home from work to bed
      4. Run really fast every once in a while.
      No

      5. Get lots of sleep.
      13.5 hrs and will crash out soon.

      6. Play.
      lots of play in dreamland.

      7. Get some sunlight everyday:
      no

      8. Avoid trauma.

      no

      9. Avoid poisonous things.
      the fake sugar crap in half a dose of Nyquil knockoff.

      10. Use your mind
      Hard to use your mind when you're completely sacked out, 3/4 dead.
      Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
      My Latest Journal

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      • You like goat? :x
        "The penis is the male animal-flower, a soft-firm dildo, a warm dream."
        -Raymond Peat, PhD

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        • Not goatse, goat the meat. And yes, it is very tasty.
          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
          My Latest Journal

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          • It tastes like barn! >
            "The penis is the male animal-flower, a soft-firm dildo, a warm dream."
            -Raymond Peat, PhD

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            • You're talking to a born and raised city girl. A deft touch of barnyard in my meat is considered to be more tasty than the "clean" taste of boneless skinless chix breasts.
              Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
              My Latest Journal

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              • Still sick, but must try this when I get better.
                garlic soup
                Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                My Latest Journal

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                • Was sick still today.
                  Eats:
                  1 slice pepper jack
                  2 oz cheddar
                  2 slices bacon
                  1/6 apple berry clafouti (last of that)
                  1/2 lb smoked brisket
                  1/2 c seasoned green beans
                  Doings:
                  Sleep, laze around, sleep, laze around, get dinner, walk around Lowe's, laze around
                  Thinkings:
                  I hate feeling "no energy, can't sleep" sick. Sat around and watched a lot of bad daytime TV.
                  Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                  My Latest Journal

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                  • I hate working my off Friday. Not only am I working when it's my day off, but everyone is way too talkative, cynical, and bitter.
                    I may blow off this afternoon after my last appointment and go do something that involves walking. I need to do some thinking and some analysis. In order for either of those to happen, I need to be physically moving and have my forebrain preoccupied so the back burners can really get going. I would go shopping, but there's very little I need right now. The high's only supposed to be 98* today, so I may find a park or something and go barefoot. That or I may go to the mall for sewing ideas. Either idea would provide the requisites for back burner thought.
                    Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                    My Latest Journal

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                    • 1. Eat lots of animals, insects and plants.
                      L: stir fry of chicken breast, red bell, jalapeno, bamboo shoots, broccoli, and fish sauce
                      D: Shish kebabs: sirloin, shrimp, zucchini, tomato, onion, red bell pepper, jalapeno. Fruit shish kebabs: blueberries, blackberries, raspberries, strawberries, and apples. FYI, grilled fruits are divine. The caramelization is wondrous!
                      Dessert: Fat- Free () Greek yogurt with a block of 85% Lindt, the rest of the apple from the shish kebabs, and 8 blueberries.

                      2. Move around a lot at a slow pace.
                      Got malled for 3 hours

                      3. Lift heavy things.
                      Nope

                      4. Run really fast every once in a while.
                      Nope

                      5. Get lots of sleep.
                      5.75 hrs

                      6. Play.
                      none

                      7. Get some sunlight everyday:
                      went to see the same citizen about the same issue. 45 min in the middle of the day.

                      8. Avoid trauma.

                      Success

                      9. Avoid poisonous things.
                      Yep.
                      10. Use your mind
                      Some, but nothing major on the front burners.
                      Last edited by naiadknight; 06-25-2010, 09:16 PM.
                      Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                      My Latest Journal

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                      • there's no such thing as too cynical and bitter.

                        at least once you reach my level of metabitter.

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                        • I'm pretty cynical myself, but the guys I work closely with seem to see no light, no happiness in anything except darkening the office and getting drunk. I went to college with one and some experiences after college really fucked with his mind. He's not really twisted enough or dark enough for the Dark Side, just bitter because his life didn't go exactly as planned.
                          Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                          My Latest Journal

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                          • Don't ever let them make you bad about being happy...

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                            • All y'all,
                              I've been reading GMH today. It brought my mind back around to a very dark time in my life. Feel free to stop reading now, but I really need to tell someone other than my husband about this.
                              I was in HS. My mother was an apathetic, abandoning depressive; my father was an alcoholic who was free with the physical abuse under the guise of punishment. I had just failed tests in two of my favorite classes, one of my best friends chose the robotics team (cool kids in that school, don't ask) over hanging out with me, and come home to my mother having run away again and my father hitting anything in range. I went and hid in my room I shared with my sisters in a little corner I called my own. I had a knife in one hand and the cordless phone in the other. I called my best friend to say good bye. Instead, the words that came tumbling out of my mouth were "[Friend], I've got a knife in one hand and I'm looking at my wrist. Talk me out of it." He spent the next 3 hours talking me out of it. I now bear a scar on my right wrist (I'm left- handed) I gave myself to remind myself of that day. I found out (much) later that he had been planning on hanging himself later that week and our conversation gave him a path forward and a reason to exist. He later told me that he fell in love with me that day. We dated for a while, but it got strange, and we broke up, vowing to stay friends.
                              Said friend later was set to be my man of honor at my wedding. He got a job offer for the time in months after being laid off. Catch was, his first day was my wedding date. I told him to "Go on, do what you've gotta do. I'll get you photos. Your survival is more important than you being at the wedding. " His wedding gift was something he created himself: a set of wooden goblets (he coordinated with my father to pull the limbs from my favorite tree in their backyard)with silver accents.
                              I haven't spoken to him in a while, but everytime, we do, we slip back into the old modes, codes, and patterns from HS.

                              I've never had much by the way of friends, but the 6 total I've had over the years (with the exception of the one that turned into an emotionally abusive asshole of a boyfriend) have more than made up in quality for the lack of quantity. They've been there through my roughest times, and, in 3 cases, I would not be typing this today without them. The results: I married one, 2 others saved my life, 1 talked me into getting tested for depression, 1 I lost track of after elementary school, and one I no longer call friend. Not too shabby a record.
                              I'd be honored to call some of y'all "friend" or "partner in crime," should we ever meet in person.
                              Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                              My Latest Journal

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                              • Fud:
                                B: 2 handfuls sour cherries, 1 tbsp goat cheese
                                D: 12 oz NY strip, 1.5 c strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries grilled in coconut oil; 2 jalapeno poppers (cheddar sausage version), 1 mushroom popper (cream cheese), 3 tbsp cheddar
                                Life is not a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, steak in one hand, chocolate in the other, yelling "Holy F***, What a Ride!"
                                My Latest Journal

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