Random Chat 10

I never said "cheer up". It's a meaningless throwaway crap word. There are other ways to deal with depression and sadness. No, it's not alcohol.

You are just another proof that debating women is a waste of time.

You lied by using quotes since I never said "dose yourself with meds". Hence, my advice for you is to GFY.

Knowing the moment someone close has died, even if they're miles away, is a strange thing but very real.

Text and subtext.

You are not entitled to debate and quote what you think I meant. Only what I said.

In the meantime, this is the new Ireland...

...and my question:

When and how did the Irish ask their government to bring in the foreigners this woman is talking about?

I would appreciate some info on this subject...

Hey, Barney, I know you are not Irish but if you can help me with this subject as it relates to the UK it would so nice...

Who is she? How do I know she's telling the truth? I'd like to know the name of the area she lives in and the school where her child supposedly wasn't allowed to dress up. You said yourself women are liars. Can't have it both ways Novi.

Btw I can confirm that we still celebrate Hallowe'en in Irish schools and Christmas too.

Watch some videos about the real Ireland. You'd be hard pressed to find a country with such a rich cultural heritage that is still observed.


Barney is Irish.

Bhutan.

Sorry Rich, you don't have a vote on what she is allowed to think or quote.
Your made up rules only apply to yourself.

That explaines why he is a bootlicking gutless idiot.

This video proves that women are morons and why they are annoying as hell - they never shut up and talk nonsense...

This moron's excuse for going 120 is that she is running out of gas. In her black "mind", going 120 to the nearest gas station is the solution to running on nearly empty...

The worst of it...Women are allowed to vote.

Even there, there's issues and they observe certain traditions (like the caste system dress code) as a direct response to threats to their traditions and culture. In their case from Nepal.

Mauritania is a good example though.

Yes. Two guys work in my smoke shop downstairs - one Arab and one Wolof from Mauritania. They're so good at maintaining tradition, that they tell me their families own slaves back home.

Respect!

A white Moor and a black Moor.

It's a simple 14 level caste system with some added complications.

About slaves, there are chattel slaves of a sort in the south east of the country however serfdom/feudalism is a slightly more accurate description of what generally goes on.

Nice people, a desperately poor country and foul food.

The way he looks, the way he sounds, I could swear he was from Yemen.

Where did these white moors come from?

Also kinda shocked at how many languages the Wolof guy knew. Arabic, French, English, Wolof, and Spanish.

Yet there he is, selling cigarettes.

Rich, Atch, and Johnny-my friends.I hope I am wrong, but it looks to me I have started a civil war between friends. I'm sorry; that was not even remotely my intention.
May I ask why sacrificing one's power of reasoning comes so easily just to avoid the possibility of defeat?

You didn't do anything wrong.

I have this visceral reaction to patronizing azholes. That's it.

Novichok
I have a strong reaction to patronizing individuals. That's the gist of it.

Occasionally, I feel as if I've found myself in a strange, unrecognizable fifth dimension. People claim to perceive things that never were or will be, endlessly talking and mistaking their chatter for eloquence. What troubles me most is the prevailing opinion that designates the Random Chat as a dumping ground, a place to dispose of unwanted trash. I might be wrong and certainly biased, but in my humble opinion, it is the best thread of all.

My best advice for now is the same I gave you before: Let your PF friends communicate with you via PM. Some may have had similar experiences and could be of help.



I see a contradiction...

This gives me an idea for a TDS warning thread.. For the benefit of the PF afflicted and beyond.

Rosie O`Donnell... what a pig!

she's not aging well....

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Women are stupid enough to get all these plastic surgeries and look like extra terrestrials.

Instead of aging gracefully, many actresses ended their careers early that way...

It looks like she's been hitting the bottle for the past 9 years and now that Trump has emerged victorious, the TDS volcano has exploded!

Have you noticed its the ugly leftard Karens that are upset the most? Hahahaha

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The ones where they put implants in their ass seems practical.

Must be nice to always have a little cushion, regardless of when you decide to sit down for some rest.

In the same way, I think it may be nice to put an implant in my forehead, so it's comfortable to rest my head on a table.

Forget the quote

Just because we share the love of God's country so for your enjoyment, One of my trips from Charlevoix to Beaver Island

From a distance of 35 miles, the barely visible steel-gray outline of Beaver Island invites
The Emerald Isle ferry rocks violently. Unbridled columns of short, steep, foam-covered crests. Underfoot, a moving deck. Then it climbs up with difficulty, trembles, leans violently to starboard, and hesitates even higher on the jagged crest of a wave.

It falls violently at breakneck speed and, with its exposed underbelly, like thunder, hits the foaming hell. Sheets of foam driven by the wind reach the second deck, and I feel the trembling of the deck's hull. Silence in the cabin, even the children's laughter, has died. They look at the gloomy, green-colored faces, sunken eyes, dark circles, The gaze encompasses the entire cabin I cannot resist the thought that the violent rocking squeezed the last drops of joy from the children's faces. I look with regret at the picture of depression, at the faces distorted by suffering. I have had enough of this. With difficulty I open the door and holding on to the safety railing, I go out onto the open deck, I think Beaufort's seven is winding. A sheet of water hits the superstructure, and the wind tears off the foaming crest of the wave; despite the storm parka, I look and feel like a wet hen. The heavy cabin filled with the smell of seasickness has become musty. I look at my watch; we should already be on the leeward side of Beaver Island. However, the wind denies this with undiminished force, playing gloomy melodies on the ropes. For a short moment in the torn cloud cover the sun's pale face shone, in a moment, ashamed it disappeared behind the dark curtain of low-hanging, billowing clouds.

The change came suddenly. The wind has clearly lost its strength. The deck dances more gently underfoot, a benevolent protection for the island hidden in the clouds. The wind has subsided enough that I can hear the engines' steady rhythmic sound and the siren's hoarse voice from the nearby lighthouse. Through the wind's noise, the waves clatter overboard pierces. With a deep breath, my lungs take in the clean, moist, lake-scented air. I am aware that at this moment, I am living life to the fullest and an inseparable part of the nature surrounding me. The mosaic of experiences of the last hour symbolizes a life unfettered by the demands of civilization, a promise of true regulations of unlimited freedom, lying just beyond the barely visible curtain of a rain-covered horizon. The rain typical of Lake Michigan passed as suddenly as it came. Suddenly, the blue sky, swollen with the warmth of the sun's rays, with the tenderness of a lover, caressed the island bathed a moment ago with raindrops. From the height of the second deck, I look at the island emerging from behind the curtain of fog, at the crowns of green trees, at the sandy beach, and at the white lace of the surf. I look enchanted by the beauty of the spectacle unfolding before my eyes, but I do not fully understand the depth of this attachment, which is almost obsession. On the left side of the side, a green buoy marked the entrance to the port. In a moment, the roadstead and the buildings scattered like toys surrounding the port quay of the bay. We are greeted, and adventure invites us, Saint James forgotten by time. The end

Are you sure everything is okay with you, or do you need help?

Not in the least Ptak. Novi doesn't like me, never has, and whilst I don't actually dislike him, I do find him to be a wholly graceless individual, so rest assured you haven't been the cause of any discord between us. My nature is such, that I am compelled to slap such people down whenever they stick their heads above the parapet :)) though occasionally I can't be bothered. Sometimes it's better to just treat them like the disturbed children they are and ignore them. If I had the teaching of him in my class at school, I'd put him at a table on his own with a nice juicy task to complete, that's just within the bounds of his ability but will tax him severely. It's very effective :)

And men are just as stupid.

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Now the President elect's back peddling on deportations along with a
bunch of other stuff.
What did I tell ya, he's mostly all bluff and blabber!

Name one then?

Sounds like another TDS love story!😆

Not that I am aware of.
And if he is, I guess that shows that he is not a dictator like you preach he is.
Maybe you could post your source to otherwise.
And what "other stuff" ?
The last I heard Teflon Trump was looking into Woke States and sanctuary cities and charging them for harboring criminals (illegal allies) who broke the law entering our country illegally.
That's easy enough to google.
Where you come up with your Liberal propaganda amasses me sometimes.
I think you would be more worried about Trump signing a bill that all school teachers be re evaluated with competence tests to fire all the Woke teachers stuck on stupid.
Trump will fix it.