That about sums it up for me too.................

I think condor has way too much time on his hands.

btw , what is an orgam..?

 

 

 

 

I was going to ask and then realized that sometimes ignorance really is bliss.

I think they are little keepsakes of folded paper, perhaps containing a lock of hair or perhaps just a wish; I've never given one myself, I don't have the manual dexterity for such intricacies. I'm more interested in what kind of Society expects that they are to be given each night, as well as expecting beauty, morality and fiscal generosity. I suspect it is one of those secret societies such as the Illuminati, WI, Mumsnet or the Cats Protection League.

I tried putting my computer in it's place once, then tried putting it in its place, I then tried putting it in it's plaice and finally tried putting it in its plaice but to no avail, the cat still chooses to lay on top of the keyboard. I suspect the cat is a member of the Cats Protection League.

If you give them away, does that make you an orgam donor?

 

Multiple orgams? Probably produced from a thick quantity of paper - legal size, certainly. Which is perhaps why such prodigious amounts are referred to as a ream. 

Ah, you need to get a cat.

 

 

My two cats, each being three-legged, cannot jump up on the desk and therefore can't lay on the keyboard.  What I therefore need is a four-legged cat. You need to make your posts more specific so all eventualities can be covered.

 

Don't knock the method, it worked. Even the cats agreed that the end justified the means.

A few weeks ago I bought a second-hand car. The make and model is immaterial, it's a rag-top, it's silver, it has an engine with six things that go bang and four wheels that make it move along the road, and apparently owning this particular brand of automobile makes me "a bit of a knob" from the perspective of other road users even though my driving style and road-manners haven't changed one iota since I took ownership - I had my eyes open when I bought it so this comes as no surprise, I freely admit that I was wary of buying said motorcar because of the negative connotation it has with other road users, and even when driving it off the forecourt on a test drive I had convinced myself that I hated it, yet within a few minutes driving I had turned that conviction on its head and handed over my hard-earned money without too much further thought of what other drivers would think of me...

My previous car was equipped with all the modern computer-controlled gizmos and automatic driving aids and I presumed that I'd be familiar enough with this one, so having learnt which buttons made the roof go up and down, and which ones moved the seat back and forward, I threw the driver's manual into the glove box and drove the car away, as pleased as punch with my new purchase.

Anyway, on Sunday we drove to Buckinghamshire (just north of Oxford) to visit a country house that was hosting a chilli festival, and much fun we had there sampling the chilli sauces with saucy names, like Bumburner and the like. After that we had a pleasant afternoon tea in the country house in the presence of my daughter and her new husband, and my sister-in-law and her old husband. All told it was a nice day-out.

During the 100 mile journey home darkness fell and at one point the glare from headlights of the oncoming traffic was starting to give me a headache so I asked my wife to pass me my the orange-tinted night-driving glasses that I occasionally wear to alleviate the adverse effect of modern dichroic lights just as we got caught up in a slow line of traffic on a narrow winding country road. Knowing that there was a hill approaching with a very short stretch of dual carriageway to allow people to pass lorries and other snail-like vehicles, I prepared to pull-out and gun my way past them. Needless to say the car behind had the same idea and he tagged on behind me as we ripped our way to the front of the queue at break-neck speed, however, he was driving closer to my arse than would have I liked so as soon as I got clear road ahead of me I pulled over to let him pass... alas the dual carriageway ended before he had chance to get by and he had to tuck in behind me. Knowing that I could probably negotiate the next stretch of road at speed without pissing him off too much I settled in to driving with him in tow. 

I looked down at the ASC button on the centre console and swore again. It had been pressed, no doubt by my wife as she tried to open the sunglasses storage tray just above it. I pressed it and the light on the dash went out. I swore for the final time, cogged it down a gear and buried the accelerator into the plush German carpet, leaving the car behind in my dust. Nothing releases stress in me more than driving like a bandit in a car that corners like it is running on rails.

 

A VW, btw, as proof that you can drive a German car without being any kind of knob.

I've owned two VW's, so I'm well aware that the German for "knob" is GTI 

 

Yeah, VWs have so many warning lights it's impossible to learn them all, so you find yourself sailing down the road while something mysterious flashes at you, and there's no way of telling whether your engine is about to explode or the back seat needs adjusting.  Germanic thoroughness does tend to induce unnecessary panic. 

 

Hmm, not much gets past you. However, mine's a Tiguan.

I had a '72 Bug once. The heat only worked in the summer.

I recall vividly driving to school in midwinter Michigan with an ankle-length wool navy P-coat, a horse blanket and in one hand an ice scraper for the inside of the windshield. In retrospect, I am amazed at my patience. Or at least, the patience I once had....BEFORE THAT F*CKING VW BURNT IT OUT OF ME!

reliable car I've ever owned.

When I retired in '06 I bought a new Chrysler 300 C with all the fancy stuff.

It was a great car for five years but when little things started going wrong

the repairs were too expensive.

That will be my last experience with a high class car.

It's just not worth it in the long run.

 

^ really?  because just looking at it makes me want to yawn.

I was going to say that the previous generation Civic was far from boring, but it seems that the unboring one was unique to Europe. Debs' old Honda Jazz (aka Fit) was as boring as a very boring thing that's been to boring school and had additional lessons in being boring, but was a joy to drive, especially if you didn't drive it like a stereo-typical Jazz driver, by contrast her Nissan Micra is unpleasant to drive.

The heater packed up on my first VW and the air-con on the second (both 2nd generation Sirocco's). Other than that they were remarkably reliable.

Though really I am far more stressed about getting into grad school, or the fear I wont, and how I am taking loans as well as needing my parents help and that's all what really has been stressing me

 

At any given time one of them is stressing me out.

I can't remember a time when they were not experiencing drama.

I always feel like I should do more.

You are indeed fortunate. 

I cannot honestly say that our 25 year old daughter has never stressed us out, but those times were of the trivial things that don't really matter a great deal - the goofing-off when she should have been studying times, the petulant tantrum over the latest must-have times, and the typical teenage rebellion times. The time when we should have been stressed, actually being stressed seemed like a very selfish thing to be, like it was a luxury that we couldn't afford. I'll not bore everyone with the personal details. I'll just type "anorexia" and leave it at that. It was indeed a stressful time but being stressed seemed to be the least helpful thing we could be.

Anyway, to cut a long story short - we got through it. Now we are immensely proud of her and all she has achieved since those bleak days. 

My family has seen two cases of eating disorders (one of em is in full effect as we speak), so I know from personal experience just how horrible this can be. I'm glad your family got through it unscathed.

The highlighted is probably one of the most important things I've picked up during my work with kids (and people in general). If they go up you go down. 

 

That must be incredibly difficult. Does your boss not understand the issues involved with posing that question?

 

I'm so glad to hear that you all made it through such a difficult time.  So many girls get stuck in that disease and can't ever find their way fully out (in other words, many mild recoveries and repeated lapses into old behaviors). I have a friend whose daughter falls back into a pit regularly.  You must indeed be very proud of her, that's something that is so hard to overcome.

Noooooo...

Oh man, Brian that's dreadful news.