Dear Fellow Developer,
The proper response is NEVER, “It works for me.”
The proper response is, “It works for me, so show me what you see so that I can understand why it isn’t working for you, too.”
You can add “huh” in there, if you’d like.
Love, Kitt.
I giggled when I saw this at the store, and picked one up.
A woman next to me was really puzzled, and went to investigate when I stepped away.
New hobby: calling out accounts on twitter that mis-@ my account.
Today, I’m alternately an AI company and Norwegian.
Unrelated: the pickled onions turned out spicy.
The Asian pears are starting to fall from the tree in the far back of the property. I suspect they have been falling for a while, and the sheep have been eating them.
They look like lemons and taste like apples, very little of the grit that I normally associate with pears.
Mom’s place has pomegranates. I loved them, so planted one when I lived in California. Loved them there, too. Am delighted that the neighbor’s pomegranate tree hangs into my yard.
Convinced the ‘rents to visit tonight, and pulled out the port. Told Mom of the ex-Navy Seal I met at the gym today, and reminisced about Pup and her antics. Lovely evening.
How to have perfect posture:
Okay, @smokey, I timed it. From dump to stick was about 40 minutes. πππ
I have named the wether* Wembley. My neighbor, the sheep’s owner, is a little scandalized I’m naming his food, but I’m okay with it.
* wethers are castrated male sheep kept with rams, for company. One never wants to keep a sheep solo, they are social beings.
This girl cracks me up. π
Injury update: stand a lot (can’t sit, bruised tailbone), walk slowly (torn off toe nail), watch the bruises, endure basic bodily functions (impaired by pain and internal swelling).
Well fuck. I’m a real sheep farmer now. This asshole rammed me not once but twice. Urgent care, here I come. Asshat sheep. π
Well, I guess my winter reading list just changed. Found this list via Mattis’ Call Sign Chaos (recommended) www.marines.mil/News/Mess… π
“Hey, your mom says the sheep like mulberry leaves.”
“They do, they’ve stripped the bottom branches of the leaves in my yard.”
“I have a bin full of them, want ‘em?”
“YES!”
ππππ
I keep finding the sheepie lounging under the orange tree in the mornings. I am much amused at their nonchalance around me. ππ
Okay, so, sheep do not like green beans, carrots are fine, and apples are worth sprinting across the field to be first in line.