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Messages - Sandtrap
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7861
« on: March 10, 2015, 11:55:52 PM »
LoA
I will be happy while earning lots of money. I do not have to choose one or the other
Is that the case? What's your game plan for "earning lots of money?" To give an example. You get 100 dollars for a clean chimney. You work 18 hours a day, and have only sunday's off. You regularily clean on average 10-11 chimney's per day. And you have a business out of it. You have other people doing it as well and you're definiately pulling in money. Once or twice a year you go down south to mexico with all that money. Go sailing. Whatever. But 18 hours a day, from monday to to saturday. There's no arguing that there's cost for it all.
7862
« on: March 10, 2015, 11:55:09 PM »
"You have to have a job to make money, but remember not work to much." - Literally the whole fucking thread in a sentence.
Not the case here. You don't have to have a job. But if you really want to ever accomplish anything money wise you put your foot down. You push yourself to the point of no return so to speak. It's not a statement so much as it is a question and musings on examples of people I suddenly bumped into today.
7863
« on: March 10, 2015, 11:52:26 PM »
I don't find balance. I just try to deal with what comes at me and push things deep down till I have a break down and just stop.
It's alarming to me because I just had two dangerous conversations with people today, and took a look at two other people in my life and realized how much of a mess it all is. None of them are succeeding but all of them are radically different in their approaches. It begs the question. Is it any wonder why modern generations are the way they are?
7864
« on: March 10, 2015, 11:47:03 PM »
...
7865
« on: March 10, 2015, 11:44:22 PM »
Question. How do you balance shit? How do you find a balance between trying to keep yourself happy. And doing the ugly things required of you in today's world? Money in today's world, is the gateway to everything. If you have it, and a lot of it, nothing is off limits to you.
But the price paid to get it, to get that much of it, is high. It's hours of your life spent, working, truly working and devoted to making it. People say that money buys a hollow happiness. You can have all the money in the world but still be depressed.
But is that really the case? Those bits of time, those little moments you earn because of the money, are you not happy and enjoying yourself in them?
It's a wager and a balance. Work your life, spend all that time away for short little moments, using all that money to get yourself something grand. Or try to live your life happily day by day, but come face to face with the reality that you've no money and so you're poor. Unable to take those doors that others can.
And what of people? How do you balance that?
Their tired, boring routines that are predictable, so predictable and played out that you can practically smell it on them when you see them? It's so expected and cliche that it's boring.
And yet when you turn away, isolate yourself, and bring someone along for the ride, it gets old. It gets stuffy. Cabin fever of sorts.
Not enough work. You get bored of your spare time. Too much work, and you break down.
Where do you find that acceptable middle ground that rests in between either sides when both are so easy to fall into?
What's your wager on that?
7866
« on: March 10, 2015, 07:02:36 PM »
Heyo Chakas. Nice sci-fi ladies. Who doesn't like synthetic material clad ass?
On topic. I don't daydream much. Focus too much on the job at hand. Only on breaks do I do some thinking. And usually it's a story. Technology, devices, concepts, characters and so on.
Stories can be daydreams too. As far as I'm concerned, stories are all my daydreams are.
Well in that case, we arrive at the same conclusion. Only difference is, I don't ever return to a daydream. Once I've written it down, it's purged outta my head and I move on to another one.
Same here. But that shouldn't effect what you post here. Go for it. Hold nothing back. I didn't.
The fuck do you want me to post?
I can write 120 page long stories now. I post that shit here I'll get crucified. But i'll explain the premise my stories usually follow. They always start with something I like. Something kinky or exotic. Something different. And then the story forms around it because I don't just like writing plain and simple smut. It needs a why and a how. The encounter needs characters. The characters need personalities.
The story needs a life of it's own. It's basically what I've heard someone say only once. They coined it as "intelligent erotica." The erotic bits are just icing on the cake really. There's a focus on the story and the world as well.
So, you wanna read? Here's the opening to my latest project. Rough copy for now. And since you want to read, I'll do you a favor and read what you posted.
Spoiler Columns of smoke blew out across the horizon on the winds, on grey skies as the early morning sun dawned. Always, across the grey battered landscape, under the rubble of once towering superstructures which now lay sprawled across the ground overtop of each other in a great tangle like a fallen forest. Jericho stared up through the haze of grey, of smoke and fires on the winds. Up, up far beyond the scorched ground he walked on, to the immense blotch in the sky.
He couldn’t make out the finer details. But it was always there. More light filtered in through the everlasting haze of dust and smoke that blew across the ruins of this world. The sound of gunfire in the distance brought his attention away from the sky. Jericho sighed.
“Right. Go over this with me, one more time.”
Standing in front of him, another man, as worn and dirty as Jericho himself, clad in rough and by now barely functioning armour for its intended purpose, smiled under a veil across his face as he held a small pistol up to Jericho, keeping it steady on him. The man pointed up to the blotch in the sky.
“It’s a simple damn plan Jericho. You get up there. Find a way to smuggle some of what they’ve got on that ship down here. And if you can’t do that, sabotage the other side. It’s our only chance.”
Jericho looked up the station that hung in the sky.
“Do we even have any idea what’s up in that ship?”
The man shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter. We need what they have. It’s the only way we’re going to win down here. It’s us or them Jer. That ship up there is just making everything a damn stalemate.”
Jericho sighed.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
The man raised his gun once more.
“Hey, if it counts for anything, you’re the best man for this job Jer. I know you’ll get us what we need. You always do. It’ll be fine.”
The man chuckled.
“And hey. It’s not every day I get to shoot your smug ass.”
Jericho rolled his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.”
Jericho sighed, holding out his arms.
“Right. Remember. I need to be dying. Not dead. Gutshot. Punctured lung. That whole deal.”
“Jer. I’m a crack shot.”
Jericho took a deep breath.
“Right. Okay.”
The man chuckled.
“It’s gonna hurt Jer.”
“I’ve been shot before.”
“Not like this.”
Jericho sighed.
“Right. On three.”
The man across from Jericho nodded.
“Okay. Ready? One.”
Jericho took a deep breath and spoke.
“Two.”
A bolt of energy discharged from the pistol, traveling clean through Jericho’s chest, vaporizing whatever the beam passed through and exiting out the other side. The pistol hummed as its power cells cycled and two more shots rang out, passing through him and burning clean through. The wounds were clean. Surgical in their mathematical perfection as the beams passed through him.
But pain became a quickly arriving feeling as Jericho’s legs gave out from under him and all sense of balance was discarded as he fell onto the dirt and ash, now dying. The man walked up to Jericho.
“Sorry Jer. Hurts less if you don’t expect it. I’ve gotta scram before the drones show up to get you. Best of luck pal.”
The man patted Jericho on the shoulder as he was helpless to say anything as he clutched at the dirt and gasped for air as his vision started to fade. Footsteps rung in his ears as the man began running. Gunfire sounded out in the distance, a background noise across the entire planet like the forgotten and unnoticed thump of a heartbeat.
And on the wind, as ash and dust blew across the remnants of this fallen world, the hum of engines could be heard. Drones, quickly making landfall from sub-orbital levels, which scoured the entire planet with nearly uncountable numbers, were now coming for him. Descending down to his dying form like vultures.
But, to most, to simple people, simple minded or uneducated because this world had only known fighting for so long, these machines were not vultures.
They were angels.
Jericho’s vision faded to black as the last thing burned into his eyes was light. Bright searchlights and scanners.
He had his ticket to heaven now.
Now we're getting somewhere. Now this is some good detail. This is what I made this thread for. Keep going if you want. I think you should. Give a summary of your stories. That's what I did. There's no reason not to. This forum has gone to shit anyway. Might as well spend your time on it doing something.
That's all I have at the moment. I have the general idea for the entire story laid out. That ship the two are talking about is known as a "world ship." It's a massive cylinder, a mobile space station. The cylinder has ecosystems on the inner surface of it, designed for food, oxygen and so on. In the middle are smaller orbiting cyclinders, designed to house the populations of entire planets. It's a refugee ship. But the only difference is, this ship is owned by a medical organization. They're almost sanctimoious in their work. And this world ship has been hanging over this world for a few decades now. This world fell into war when it's populace divided, and they've been fighting ever since. The world ship is helping the populace, using drones to collect the injured or dying, and ferrying them up to the ship. The ship is a nuetral ground, split in half as it houses two volotile factions and cares for them. The smuggler, Jericho, is sent up ther to either smuggle medical supplies to the ground so his side can gain a foothold over the other, or if he can't, sabotage the enemy's section of the station that they're being cared for on. Our smuggler meets a Synth, working aboard the ship. Synth's are perfect technological replicas of human beings, having a very old heritage as ancient brothers in arms alongside Humanity when they first began to spread across the stars. The synth is mute, and chooses not to have her condition fixed, and instead communicates through holographic sign language. Evidently, as his caretaker, she's dragged around the station as Jericho discreetly tries to size everything up. And she knows it. It's an up and down relationship. And it comes to a peak when two factions enter the system. Saarkarthians, reptilian aliens going on an agressive expansive world campaign, being followed by another human empire who was stepped on by them. The area becomes a crossfire and it's a fight to keep the station from being boarded from either opposing side, while trying to save the poplulation fo the planet and evacuate, negotiating a truce with the world's inhabitants because the Sarrks will steamroll them and the opposing Human empire won't give them a chance to take over the planet or the station.
7867
« on: March 10, 2015, 06:45:39 PM »
Heyo Chakas. Nice sci-fi ladies. Who doesn't like synthetic material clad ass?
On topic. I don't daydream much. Focus too much on the job at hand. Only on breaks do I do some thinking. And usually it's a story. Technology, devices, concepts, characters and so on.
Stories can be daydreams too. As far as I'm concerned, stories are all my daydreams are.
Well in that case, we arrive at the same conclusion. Only difference is, I don't ever return to a daydream. Once I've written it down, it's purged outta my head and I move on to another one.
Same here. But that shouldn't effect what you post here. Go for it. Hold nothing back. I didn't.
The fuck do you want me to post? I can write 120 page long stories now. I post that shit here I'll get crucified. But i'll explain the premise my stories usually follow. They always start with something I like. Something kinky or exotic. Something different. And then the story forms around it because I don't just like writing plain and simple smut. It needs a why and a how. The encounter needs characters. The characters need personalities. The story needs a life of it's own. It's basically what I've heard someone say only once. They coined it as "intelligent erotica." The erotic bits are just icing on the cake really. There's a focus on the story and the world as well. So, you wanna read? Here's the opening to my latest project. Rough copy for now. And since you want to read, I'll do you a favor and read what you posted. Spoiler Columns of smoke blew out across the horizon on the winds, on grey skies as the early morning sun dawned. Always, across the grey battered landscape, under the rubble of once towering superstructures which now lay sprawled across the ground overtop of each other in a great tangle like a fallen forest. Jericho stared up through the haze of grey, of smoke and fires on the winds. Up, up far beyond the scorched ground he walked on, to the immense blotch in the sky.
He couldn’t make out the finer details. But it was always there. More light filtered in through the everlasting haze of dust and smoke that blew across the ruins of this world. The sound of gunfire in the distance brought his attention away from the sky. Jericho sighed.
“Right. Go over this with me, one more time.”
Standing in front of him, another man, as worn and dirty as Jericho himself, clad in rough and by now barely functioning armour for its intended purpose, smiled under a veil across his face as he held a small pistol up to Jericho, keeping it steady on him. The man pointed up to the blotch in the sky.
“It’s a simple damn plan Jericho. You get up there. Find a way to smuggle some of what they’ve got on that ship down here. And if you can’t do that, sabotage the other side. It’s our only chance.”
Jericho looked up the station that hung in the sky.
“Do we even have any idea what’s up in that ship?”
The man shook his head.
“Doesn’t matter. We need what they have. It’s the only way we’re going to win down here. It’s us or them Jer. That ship up there is just making everything a damn stalemate.”
Jericho sighed.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”
The man raised his gun once more.
“Hey, if it counts for anything, you’re the best man for this job Jer. I know you’ll get us what we need. You always do. It’ll be fine.”
The man chuckled.
“And hey. It’s not every day I get to shoot your smug ass.”
Jericho rolled his eyes.
“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.”
Jericho sighed, holding out his arms.
“Right. Remember. I need to be dying. Not dead. Gutshot. Punctured lung. That whole deal.”
“Jer. I’m a crack shot.”
Jericho took a deep breath.
“Right. Okay.”
The man chuckled.
“It’s gonna hurt Jer.”
“I’ve been shot before.”
“Not like this.”
Jericho sighed.
“Right. On three.”
The man across from Jericho nodded.
“Okay. Ready? One.”
Jericho took a deep breath and spoke.
“Two.”
A bolt of energy discharged from the pistol, traveling clean through Jericho’s chest, vaporizing whatever the beam passed through and exiting out the other side. The pistol hummed as its power cells cycled and two more shots rang out, passing through him and burning clean through. The wounds were clean. Surgical in their mathematical perfection as the beams passed through him.
But pain became a quickly arriving feeling as Jericho’s legs gave out from under him and all sense of balance was discarded as he fell onto the dirt and ash, now dying. The man walked up to Jericho.
“Sorry Jer. Hurts less if you don’t expect it. I’ve gotta scram before the drones show up to get you. Best of luck pal.”
The man patted Jericho on the shoulder as he was helpless to say anything as he clutched at the dirt and gasped for air as his vision started to fade. Footsteps rung in his ears as the man began running. Gunfire sounded out in the distance, a background noise across the entire planet like the forgotten and unnoticed thump of a heartbeat.
And on the wind, as ash and dust blew across the remnants of this fallen world, the hum of engines could be heard. Drones, quickly making landfall from sub-orbital levels, which scoured the entire planet with nearly uncountable numbers, were now coming for him. Descending down to his dying form like vultures.
But, to most, to simple people, simple minded or uneducated because this world had only known fighting for so long, these machines were not vultures.
They were angels.
Jericho’s vision faded to black as the last thing burned into his eyes was light. Bright searchlights and scanners.
He had his ticket to heaven now.
7868
« on: March 10, 2015, 06:37:03 PM »
Heyo Chakas. Nice sci-fi ladies. Who doesn't like synthetic material clad ass?
On topic. I don't daydream much. Focus too much on the job at hand. Only on breaks do I do some thinking. And usually it's a story. Technology, devices, concepts, characters and so on.
Stories can be daydreams too. As far as I'm concerned, stories are all my daydreams are.
Well in that case, we arrive at the same conclusion. Only difference is, I don't ever return to a daydream. Once I've written it down, it's purged outta my head and I move on to another one.
7869
« on: March 10, 2015, 06:06:09 PM »
Heyo Chakas. Nice sci-fi ladies. Who doesn't like synthetic material clad ass?
On topic. I don't daydream much. Focus too much on the job at hand. Only on breaks do I do some thinking. And usually it's a story. Technology, devices, concepts, characters and so on.
7870
« on: March 10, 2015, 06:03:36 PM »
itt: jim takes us all on a ride
Somebody slash his fucking tires.
7871
« on: March 10, 2015, 06:02:08 PM »
Personally. I don't want to see anymore fucking doctors. I'd prefer to just not see any doctors. Doesn't matter who or what sex they are. Tired of fucking docs.
7872
« on: March 10, 2015, 05:53:51 PM »
To the folks in here talking about cowardice and heroicness, trying to banter and decide which is which, I say this. Until you've had a foot hanging off the edge of a radio tower and you're leaning down over the rails, letting your hands slip because you no longer care what happens,
Your say is invalid.
Suicide, and depression, is neither brave, or selfish. True depression, leading to suicide is a mental override. Everything around you goes grey. It has no meaning. It's tiring. You're so low, that nothing has a point, nothing has an impact. There's no fear. No hesitation.
Bravery, and heroism, comes from fear. When you're brave, you're afraid. When you commit an act of suicide in war, a suicidal charge, jumping over a grenade and so on, you're afraid.
A true, deep seeded depression and suicide that comes from it, is the result of a person no longer having any constraints like fear, or regret, or even a survival instinct. It's all completely overridden and replaced with grey.
Of course, suicide has many perpetrators. Pain, sadness, misery, an unstable emotional balance.
But it is not cowardly. Nor is it brave.
7873
« on: March 10, 2015, 02:47:03 AM »
It's intentional. The IVs are arrogant and unpredictable which presents a contrast with the disciplined IIs. Begs the question of which program is more favourable: the morally grey one involving kidnapping kids to produce perfect soldiers or "safe" method of using adult volunteers so the supersoldiers can be mass produced without ethical concerns, but as a result the soldiers are more unpredictable.
^
^^
^^^
^^^^
^^^^^
THIS
But it doesn't make any sense that they'd be unpredictable because most of the IV's are the best of the best, volunteers from UNSC. ODSTs, Army and so on. We aren't talking arrogant people here. We're talking about the best standard, un-augmented human soldiers around. They didn't just go through random rookies and go, "here have some augs lol." They went through professionals, soldiers who were already at their physical peak, the best they could be. I'd wager most Spartan IV's are veterans because any particular soldier in the UNSC who showed any special qualities or skill was a veteran. That means they've gone through the war, survived it, and not only that, but encountered or heard the stories of the Spartan IIs. For any one of them to suddenly become so arrogant and borderline stupid just because they've received augments boosting them past what they used to be as soldiers just seems silly, considering the background of most Spartan IVs.
7874
« on: March 09, 2015, 11:20:43 PM »
You have legs right?
Go take a fucking walk.
Or, alternatively, if you have a vehicle, get in and do late night loser laps around your town.
Hmm, decent idea. I'll do that if nobody else gives me a better idea. But on the other hand, I am living in the US, and there have been cases of people just being gunned down in the middle of the street in night where I live. Not meaning I won't take a walk though.
Get in your armoured vehicle and do loser laps then.
7875
« on: March 09, 2015, 11:16:52 PM »
You have legs right?
Go take a fucking walk.
Or, alternatively, if you have a vehicle, get in and do late night loser laps around your town.
7876
« on: March 09, 2015, 11:04:22 PM »
Guns Meta. There's going to be guns.
There's going to be morbidly obese semi-human lifeforms riding around on scooters.
All natural beauty has been replaced with one huge, continental shopping mall, from coast to coast.
The colour green is only associated with the army, not fruits or vegetables, forests, or plant life of any kind.
Pizza is a vegetable.
7877
« on: March 09, 2015, 10:59:19 PM »
Why do you have to be so salty over something someone does that doesn't even effect your life at all?...
I think having my lungs obliterated by constant exposure to second-hand smoke counts as affecting my life.
Nobody is forcing you to be around smokers.
Exept for the fact that I live in New York City, There's a bar next door and my building has shit-tier ventilation.
Try living somewhere that isn't shit.
Try not being a jew who cant't comprehend that not everyone has infinite reserves of mom's money
For real.
Try not living in NYC.
>Cant understanding that not everyone has money to go through homes like cotton candy
>Cant understand that I have family and friends here
>Being this big of a jew
People here tell me the same thing when I talk about how expensive rent can be in my city >__>
You have bootstraps. Be a good Patriot and utilize them.
Please note that pulling your bootstraps up doesn't matter when no matter where you turn it's going to be shit. -Canada's weather does its best to kill everything for 6-8 months of the year -America is fat, solves its problems by shooting, and has a momumentally retarded government -Mexico has scary siesta taking mexicans and cartels down south -South america has jungle bugs that eat you for lunch and drug lords galore -Europe is being invaded by passive aggressive muslims -The east is filled with agressive muslims -Russia is being russia -Australia's wildlife intends on killing -Africa gonna africa And no matter where you go, there's assholes of every colour of the rainbow. Pick your favorite colour and your poison because there's no gettin' away from it.
7878
« on: March 09, 2015, 10:47:03 PM »
If I played the game again, there's obviously two things that I would never do.
Invade people, or set up false hints. Ever. I would NEVER do it. Because I'm not an apecunt.
And apparently that's what the fun of the game is. So I wouldn't have fun at all.
0/10.
Well you could always join a co-op covenant. Remember. Whole game isn't expressly about invading people. You can be jolly too. And to be fair, while the hint system exists, most learned quickly not to take it seriously. Especially in the second dark souls. And naturally, the game has an opposing balancing factor. You can choose to invade people. Or if you're crafty, you can choose to have people invade you, people with the intent of fucking you over, and flip the tables. Most people only see invaders as a "fuck the player" system with no downside. But they forget that an invader puts things on the line too. Some days they're stepping into somebody's world who's ready for them. They want them to invade. Let's also not forget just how many options you have in Dark Souls II for turning the tables. A rare, one time use item that turns your world's enemies against invaders. A spell that disguises you as an object. Despawning enemies so that you can clear an area of the game and essentially use that entire portion of the map as your hunting grounds. A spell that detonates dead enemy corpses. But, I suppose this doesn't mean much if you don't enjoy the game because it's designed to trick players. It's not for everybody. No game is. But some, like me, enjoy fighting a human player. Seeing if you can use real time psychology to fuck with them. Seeing if they're clever and smart enough to outwit you. The game is, always, what you make of it. I'm not a fan of general, boring old pvp. I'm not a fan of showing up and ruining somebody's day as a red phantom invader, or a justice based phantom to counter a red phantom's douchbaggery. And certainly not a co-op ganker. But there is something satisfying about watching somebody come into your world with the intent of being a douchbag, and getting a surprise. But, not for everyone I suppose.
7879
« on: March 09, 2015, 10:32:05 PM »
Why do you have to be so salty over something someone does that doesn't even effect your life at all?...
I think having my lungs obliterated by constant exposure to second-hand smoke counts as affecting my life.
Nobody is forcing you to be around smokers.
Exept for the fact that I live in New York City, There's a bar next door and my building has shit-tier ventilation.
Try living somewhere that isn't shit.
That's a really, really fucking tall order to try fulfilling.
7880
« on: March 09, 2015, 10:24:29 PM »
Why do you have to be so salty over something someone does that doesn't even effect your life at all?...
I think having my lungs obliterated by constant exposure to second-hand smoke counts as affecting my life.
Nobody is forcing you to be around smokers.
Well apparently PSU wagers I'm stupid for avoiding smokers because apparently putting up with bullshit of that sort and caring about my health and personal preferences is silly. If he was calling the shots I guess we'd be fucked now wouldn't we? Lucky the only thing he can supposedly force is his wife.
7881
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:36:07 PM »
That would be implying that there's actually water over there.
7882
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:34:44 PM »
Easy answer. Back the fuck out. If you want to avoid bullshit then get the fuck out of there.
If you want to follow your dick and balls then let her take you for a ride and when she inevitably ditches you like a discarded sock, say "Doesn't matter, had sex." No bitching allowed if you take the second method.
7883
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:26:44 PM »
Well actually it does. Half the fucking house reeks of smoke. The person who smokes fucking smells like smoke. The person who smoke's vehicle smells like smoke. And when they smoke I smell more smoke, concentrated bullshit.
I've had enough of smelling fucking tar and ash. Nevermind the slow build up to health defects and the worry it causes, I don't like smelling something that practically embodies death.
I'm breathing in their toxic shit wherever they go so not only are they hurting themselves but they're hurting me too.
Which is why I fuck off around smokers.
Do you avoid visiting big cities too because of smog?
I avoid cities for the people. But smog is on my list of reasons why I don't go.
So yes.
Fuck you if you were thinking you were going to catch me there. I can't even breath in wood smoke without having issues.
Catch you?
I just think your reasons are stupid. Its basically the same as saying "I don't like how his deodorant smells, so I'm not gonna hangout with him".
Because smelling ash is just so pleasant. Smelling that washed out smell is fantastic. Maybe I've just got a better nose than you because I live in clean air.
It's easy to tell the difference between nice air and shit air.
And throw in one more factor. My lungs. They seize up around smoke. Smoke, smog, you name it. And on that last bit? If I was hanging around a guy who smelled too strong of deoderant, I'd tell him. "Hey dude, not trying to be rude but if I lit a lighter next to you the air would catch on fire."
If i did that to a smoker or suggested that they smelled strongly of sickness, I'd either get this.
"Yeah, I know." *Continues moping about smoking but not doing anything*
Or my favotire,
"It's my life my choice."
Know what I say? Fuck you then I don't like hanging around you when you can set off smoke alarms. My life my choice. I don't expressly avoid smokers. But if they smoke around me I get the fuck out of there.
Why is watching myself around them stupid by the way? Why is avoiding something that isn't pleasant to me stupid?
So none of your friends smoke?
I'm not joking here. What friends? I have one friend in town here. She's gone half the year and running around as much as I am. I have one friend who lives six hours away. I have a contractor who calls on me for work and he smokes. But he's not a friend. He's a tolerable aqucaintence. That's it. So no, my friends don't smoke. And my friends never did smoke because I never made friends with a smoker. I'll ask again. Why is avoiding something unpleasant to me stupid? Why is watching my health and obviously defunct, almost #triggerable lungs and keeping them from harmful things stupid?
7884
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:23:11 PM »
It can't be nay worse then culture in my province.
German exiles from germany arrived in the middle of winter, set up shop, and made this place home. Proceed to a few generations of booting out the local generations of natives, wiping out the buffalo, and generally old western style frontier type stuff, and now where here.
Tractors bigger than your house and enormous fields owned by one person.
Sounds a lot like the Midwest in the United States. Yeah, there seem to be a great deal of cultural similarities between Canada and the US. Though we both know which one is more powerful in terms of influence....
(murikafuckyeah)
We supply you shit in a cooperational exchange. Our countries are close so we've always been close. Influence doesn't matter if it's a shit influence though. Which makes me glad that we're not a carbon copy of the states.
7885
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:16:08 PM »
Well actually it does. Half the fucking house reeks of smoke. The person who smokes fucking smells like smoke. The person who smoke's vehicle smells like smoke. And when they smoke I smell more smoke, concentrated bullshit.
I've had enough of smelling fucking tar and ash. Nevermind the slow build up to health defects and the worry it causes, I don't like smelling something that practically embodies death.
I'm breathing in their toxic shit wherever they go so not only are they hurting themselves but they're hurting me too.
Which is why I fuck off around smokers.
Do you avoid visiting big cities too because of smog?
I avoid cities for the people. But smog is on my list of reasons why I don't go.
So yes.
Fuck you if you were thinking you were going to catch me there. I can't even breath in wood smoke without having issues.
Catch you?
I just think your reasons are stupid. Its basically the same as saying "I don't like how his deodorant smells, so I'm not gonna hangout with him".
Because smelling ash is just so pleasant. Smelling that washed out smell is fantastic. Maybe I've just got a better nose than you because I live in clean air. It's easy to tell the difference between nice air and shit air. And throw in one more factor. My lungs. They seize up around smoke. Smoke, smog, you name it. And on that last bit? If I was hanging around a guy who smelled too strong of deoderant, I'd tell him. "Hey dude, not trying to be rude but if I lit a lighter next to you the air would catch on fire." If i did that to a smoker or suggested that they smelled strongly of sickness, I'd either get this. "Yeah, I know." *Continues moping about smoking but not doing anything* Or my favotire, "It's my life my choice." Know what I say? Fuck you then I don't like hanging around you when you can set off smoke alarms. My life my choice. I don't expressly avoid smokers. But if they smoke around me I get the fuck out of there. Why is watching myself around them stupid by the way? Why is avoiding something that isn't pleasant to me stupid?
7886
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:07:05 PM »
It can't be nay worse then culture in my province.
German exiles from germany arrived in the middle of winter, set up shop, and made this place home. Proceed to a few generations of booting out the local generations of natives, wiping out the buffalo, and generally old western style frontier type stuff, and now where here.
Tractors bigger than your house and enormous fields owned by one person.
7887
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:03:48 PM »
Well actually it does. Half the fucking house reeks of smoke. The person who smokes fucking smells like smoke. The person who smoke's vehicle smells like smoke. And when they smoke I smell more smoke, concentrated bullshit.
I've had enough of smelling fucking tar and ash. Nevermind the slow build up to health defects and the worry it causes, I don't like smelling something that practically embodies death.
I'm breathing in their toxic shit wherever they go so not only are they hurting themselves but they're hurting me too.
Which is why I fuck off around smokers.
Do you avoid visiting big cities too because of smog?
I avoid cities for the people. But smog is on my list of reasons why I don't go. So yes. Fuck you if you were thinking you were going to catch me there. I can't even breath in wood smoke without having issues.
7888
« on: March 09, 2015, 08:02:10 PM »
Aside from the fact that I just don't do drugs, cigarettes would be worse from me than for most people.
you must have so much fun
I don't understand why you need drugs to have fun.
I don't need extra pillows for my bed to be comfortable, but fuck it. It works for me.
You technically don't even need fucking pillows.
7889
« on: March 09, 2015, 07:57:39 PM »
Well actually it does. Half the fucking house reeks of smoke. The person who smokes fucking smells like smoke. The person who smoke's vehicle smells like smoke. And when they smoke I smell more smoke, concentrated bullshit.
I've had enough of smelling fucking tar and ash. Nevermind the slow build up to health defects and the worry it causes, I don't like smelling something that practically embodies death.
I'm breathing in their toxic shit wherever they go so not only are they hurting themselves but they're hurting me too.
Which is why I fuck off around smokers.
7890
« on: March 09, 2015, 12:55:35 AM »
TFW living around nothing but older people has turned me into a young embodiment of an old person.
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