toynbee

Reminds me of a short story I read as a kid.

Someone receives a call from an unknown number and answers. (In the original I read, the setup was a payphone ringing as someone walked by.)

On answering the phone, that person hears a voice saying “excuse me, may I have a moment of your time?” “Sure,” says the answerer. “Thank you,” says the voice as it disconnects.

The answerer hung up also, feeling a bit older.

It seems likely those goals will align fairly promptly.

I don’t much like chocolate, but I’ve said here before: if a food item has toppings and is sufficiently robust to maintain those toppings, it is universally better upside down.

Isn’t passing how pp times happen?

Are those like detachable penii?

I’m in a very committed relationship now, but there was a time when this response would have tempted me.

So will you guys be like a pretzel or … ?

That clip synced surprisingly well with the song my phone was playing (“The Bar Song” by Delta Ash).

edit: Autocorrect strikes again. Changed “point” to “phone.”

I’m currently on my phone and I’m not going to try to figure out how to test regex on Graphene. Therefore I can only say: well done!

To speed run this conversation:

My elementary school administered a few tests my mother felt were unfair to both my middle brother and me. A few times after my second grade teacher made derogatory comments about me (and possibly my brother’s teacher did towards him, I am uncertain). Her TA was awesome though. My teacher eventually said during a PTA meeting “I’m not going to teach more than two grades above my grade” and, in every class, simply sat me at the school’s then only computer with some turtle based drawing game.

At the time, I was very hurt. I held on to that for a long time. It was only two or so years ago, when talking to my wife, that I realized the teacher’s decision was a relatively reasonable one. The situation maybe could have been handled or at least expressed better, but the sentiment was reasonable.

However, my mom didn’t feel so. Between that and whatever was happening with my middle brother, she made the decision to homeschool that brother and me.

(I have two other siblings. The oldest is complicated. The second oldest attended public school longer but started college at twelve and got his Ph.D. in pure mathematics at somewhere between 25-30.)

I was homeschooled from age seven to eleven, then went to college from eleven to fifteen. (I graduated two days before I turned sixteen.) My mom was grateful for the timing of her ESRD diagnosis because I was her youngest and she was diagnosed a few months after she finished homeschooling me, so she was able to focus on her health rather than schooling. I have a very distinct memory of, at twelve (when I was absurdly fit), before her diagnosis but after she started realizing there were problems, physically catching her when she said “I’m fine,” stood up, and immediately passed out. This happened more than once.

I gained a two year degree. I took four years to get it because I was taking every computer class they had except for “introduction to Unix” because when was I going to use that? Incidentally, my current career started with - and is heavily based on - Linux. Maybe 11-15 year olds don’t make the most educated decisions.

The admission process was easier for me than it would have been for most because both of my older brothers had gone to, and graduated from, the same college at a comparatively young age. My eldest brother had to face a whole committee to get approval to attend. I only had to face a few people and they mostly knew me because I had been riding along with my mother as she drove my brothers there for years. I don’t remember what my GPA was when I graduated, it wasn’t great, but I did graduate.

George Carlin very vocally agrees… But things get a bit problematic after that.

I can’t see any good result of answering this given the other responses and the justifiable resentment behind them. But I’m gonna because I have poor impulse control.

I started college at eleven. My mom would drop me off for my classes and pick me up after. As a result, I was often responsible for my own meals. Many of those were White Castle sliders or ramen but sometimes my fellow students who - unlike me - could drive would take me to the nearby restaurants. (There was technically a cafeteria on campus, but it wasn’t there when I started and wasn’t very good after it was established.) My parents thus granted me $22.50 per week for an allowance.

This theory has apparently been mostly debunked, so my disclaimer has been justified. I’m rarely an expert, so don’t go by what I say! That said, I appreciate the follow-up.

edit: For the debunking, see the response to my other comment.

That’s what I get for sourcing my knowledge from Cracked, I suppose. Thank you for the update.

Disclaimer: I have no professional knowledge in this field. Everything I know about it, which is almost nothing, is either from reading cracked.com in the good old days or from witnessing my wife be pregnant and birth a baby.

That said, from my understanding, the issue is less the womb and more the pelvis.

Isn’t almost everyone a namee? That is, someone who has been on the receiving end of a name?

One of the first girls in whom I ever had an interest once referenced this song to me. I later tried to find it but had difficulty doing so because I’d never heard the phrase (I was sheltered) and was trying to look up “pour some salt on me.”

Is that why it’s never lupus?