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I personally believe that U.S. Americans are unable to do so because, uh, some, uh, people out there in our nation don't have maps and, uh, I believe that our education like such as in South Africa and, uh, the Iraq, everywhere like such as, and, I believe that they should, our education over here in the U.S. should help the U.S., uh, or, uh, should help South Africa and should help the Iraq and the Asian countries, so we will be able to build up our future. For our children
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I live my life in a kind of ascetic negation in relation those my age, utterly rejecting what I regard as their degraded amusements. I realize all is vanity, but there's seems especially earthly.
Yet the threshold of my ersatz hermeticism is imperfect, and certain things break through, the name "Fantano" among them (the rest, I think, are things like cartoons and video games, in service to the inexplicable idea that puerility and bad taste are a kind of "sincerity").
Why? Nothing I have seen this man say is remotely clever or insightful, he's indistinguishable from the throng of lithic, conventionally unconventional variations on a theme reduced to "yes" and "no." He's the sort of programistic "elitist" whose "taste" and "expertise" are predicated on an unwillingness to pursue history and an inability to say anything of interest.
If he's been elevated by that distinctly American process of the exultation of ignorance and become the most consequential tastemaker, that is truly sad, because when I'm reminded of what a doomed country this is, I at least like my most base instincts to be served by something amusing, and he's far too boring for that.
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I hope I didn't sound like that when I was a teenager.
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Jenkem is an inhalant and hallucinogen created from fermented human waste.[1] In the mid-1990s, it was reported to be a popular street drug among Zambian street children. They would put the feces and urine in a jar and cover it with a balloon then let it ferment out in the sun, then afterwards they would inhale the fumes created
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Close the thread. Please.
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Last week, I was in a car with my brother and his fiancee, driving through their upscale neighborhood on a hot summer day. At the corner, we all noticed three little girls sitting at a homemade lemonade stand.
We follow the same rules in our family, and one of them is: Always stop to buy lemonade from kids who are entrepreneurial enough to open up a little business.
My brother immediately pulled over to the side of the road and asked about the choices.
The three young girls -- under the watchful eye of a nanny, sitting on the grass with them -- explained that they had regular lemonade, raspberry lemonade and small chocolate candy bars.
Then my brother asked how much each item cost.
"Oh, no," they replied in unison, "they're all free!"
I sat in the back seat in shock. Free? My brother questioned them again: "But you have to charge something? What should I pay for a lemonade? I'm really thirsty!"
His fiancee smiled and commented: "Isn't that cute. They have the spirit of giving."
That really set me off, as my regular readers can imagine.
"No!" I exclaimed from the back seat. "That's not the spirit of giving. You can only really give when you give something you own. They're giving away their parents' things -- the lemonade, cups, candy. It's not theirs to give."
I pushed the button to roll down the window and stuck my head out to set them straight.
"You must charge something for the lemonade," I explained. "That's the whole point of a lemonade stand. You figure out your costs -- how much the lemonade costs and the cups -- and then you charge a little more than what it costs you, so you can make money. Then you can buy more stuff, and make more lemonade, and sell it, and make more money."
I was confident I had explained it clearly. Until my brother, breaking the tension, ordered a raspberry lemonade. As they handed it to him, he again asked, "So how much is it?"
And the girls once again replied, "It's free!" And the nanny looked on contentedly.
No wonder America is getting it all wrong
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""No!" I exclaimed from the back seat. "
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Years ago before it was well known issue I went and bought a bunch of sugar free candy. Don't know if it still is but most of it used "sugar alcohol" which turns your poops into water and makes your sphincter about as useful as a locked door with no hinges.
Go to my little cousins birthday party she was around 6 and most my family was there, my uncle walked up behind me put me in a bear hug around my gut and picked me up.... that boiling gravy shot through my pair of underwear and my khaki shorts and turned my uncles clothes into a baseball players uniform after sliding into home plate in the rain.
Kids don't eat a whole bag of sugar free candy and expect to do ANYTHING.