I mean, I’m 30 and a non traditional college student. If the weather is agreeable, I have a few nice sweaters that I’ll wear with an undershirt, dark jeans, and I’ve got a pair of Loake boots that are very nice.

I feel GREAT when I dress like that, and get quite a few glances throughout the day. Also my wife eyeballs me as I leave the house.

I have a stark reminder of the worst period in my life where I did the same. The “account performance” chart in an investment of mine showed steady growth and monthly inputs, then there’s a cliff, and over a period of a few months, it’s completely emptied. Thousands, easily. And the vast majority was fast food and liquor

Okay but how do I make it

Chlorine trifluoride, go on

I believe it’s a dessert

That AIN’T GOIN ANYWHERE

My wife’s grandma makes “pretzel salad”, which is crushed pretzel sticks that are tossed with a mixture of margarine and cream cheese, I think, then baked until crispy then crumbled.

In the meantime, cream cheese, maybe whipped cream?, sugar, a few other onesies and twosies, and canned shredded pineapple are mixed into an unholy slop.

Then, when is time to serve, the crumbles are mixed in with the slop and there you go. Salad.

That’s a good one, that’s my mom’s favorite. I also like the twice-fed sweet levain recipe from FWSY, I’ve always gotten great oven spring from that one.

I just like tartine the most because the dough feels the best during the process and the flavor at the end is excellent

What recipe do you use? My favorite is the tartine country loaf

What’s ozempic face?

I’m completely unfamiliar with this, can you elaborate?

I’m very confused now

Well now you have to

The only name for them

The withdrawal from Afghanistan is the the most genuine “the buck stops here”, that I can remember. He ripped off the bandaid and it was the right call

You’re looking for your car, but you’re all turned around.

And if for some reason, in your frontier scenario, you have plywood and bracing material, you could go with a rammed earth structure!

I just learned about rammed earth and got a few books about it, it’s so fucking cool. I want to build a house with it now, so my great great great great great grandkids can inherit it

I’m not proud of it, but I got like six little, ~2", brass-plated L-brackets from home depot and attached them along the long sides.

It’s not ideal because TECHNICALLY wood movement could be an issue, but movement with the grain is minimal, and I needed to just get the thing done so I risked it. No issues yet and it has been in my basement (which has pretty significant humidity swings) for probably a year now.

Also, but a dumb question, I reached this exact point in the build, when I had a frame and a top and was like…well now what?

I thought the 70% was recommended because it helps maintain membrane fluidity or something like that

This story concerns war and death, if you want to avoid those kinds of things.

I was 18 years old. I was an Infantryman in the US Army and had been in Afghanistan for a few months, when my platoon responded to an IED strike on another platoon in my company, while they were doing a dismounted patrol.

A guy riding a donkey laden with explosives made his way to the center of their staggered column formation (effectively two spaced out lines on opposite sides of the street), before detonating the explosives. It was particularly effective, because walls on either side forced the column in tighter than normal.

This point begins my memories, which are mostly a disjointed collection of visual snapshots.

The first thing I remember is the smell, which I can’t accurately describe, but burned meat, chemicals, and some kind of feces is the closest I can get. It is easily the clearest part of the memory.

The next thing I remember is seeing the severed foot of the man responsible laying in the middle of the road and my immediate and overwhelming impulse was to kick it, since it was the only tangible evidence of a ‘responsible’ party. There were also two generally recognizable bodies in the ditch, as well as several casualties receiving medical care.

From this point it is a series of vignettes. One, I was setting down my radio pack and very clearly telling the lieutenant where it was, since the medics needed extra hands. Another is seeing one of the casualties smoking a cigarette. The last, and clearest visual memory was holding the hand of one of the casualties as we waited for the medevac bird, and trying to keep the mood light be telling him “hey, at least you don’t have to walk back to base”. I have no clue if he responded.

I have absolutely no memories following that day, for probably months, until another, somewhat less traumatic situation took place.

But yeah, that is the day that pretty much all of my emotions died. On my wedding day, I felt just a flicker of happiness. The only emotion I feel with any intensity whatsoever is occasionally anger.

That’s about all, I’m willing to answer questions of anyone is curious.