TPBM 106 - Australia's 911
This is a continuation of the topic TPBM 105 in the shade- it's a hot one!.
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Now, what was the damn question I was supposed to answer...
Oh yeah! I do, and it's my youngest son that does it. I mean, there are lots of other options, too, but he's been a delivery driver for Jason's Deli for probably ten years now, and he's got a very good reputation with customers and coworkers alike. His next older brother did it for fourteen years, and through excellent money management, was able to buy his house.
That being said, I almost never order food for delivery. I'd rather pick it up myself.
TPBM prefers to be as self-sufficient as possible.
I'm working through it with a life coach.
TPBM is watching the clock.
I'm watching it, and it knows I'm watching so it had better behave itself.
TPBM is counting down to something.
I thought the clock was watching me.
TPBM would choose window screens over electricity.
No, won't choose, I want both. I'm greedy that way.
TPBM is charitable to a fault.
Can't afford much charity, but I am sometimes too nice for my own good.
The person below me is a grinch.
I suppose it depends who you ask but I actually like Christmas and always decorate a tree and get in enough alcohol.
TPBM can tell a mean ghost story.
Nope. Not ever. I'm claustrophobic.
TPBM sets out at least one hummindbird feeder every summer, or keeps them out year round if the hummingbirds are around all year.
I let the Japanese honeysuckle live. That's my contribution. (As if I had control over the honeysuckle!)
TPBM wouldn't hurt a fly.
True of most flies, but the horseflies that have come around lately are GOING DOWN. I don't go outside without my battery-powered swat racquet.
TPBM has a better solution.
Take an umbrella! If horses are flying it really is the end of civilization.
TPBM controls the Pickle Fork of Destiny.
Is that some sort of metaphor regarding greed? Use the damn fork so you don't get your hand stuck in the jar trying to grab all the pickles?
The smell of a pickle brings on waves of nausea in me, so it is unikely I'd wield such a utensil.
When I see a flying horse, I just presume it escaped from the gasoline sign.
TPBM knows of what I speak/write.
Well, I know you're not writing with the Often Magical Biro of Carnaught for 'twas lost to mortal man.
TPBM is questy.
Thou thinkest you speak to mortals? Thrice quest laden.
TPBM will name the first of them.
WHAT is your favorite colour?
TPBM will answer one of these questions
(not the character's answers )
The second, obviously. You walk in the morning, therefore you wish to see greenery.
TPBM knows, scientifically (tic), how to tell if the accused is a witch.
I know two methods (The cruelty):
1- Almost everywhere to perform: Throw the accused woman in deep water, if she will stay afloat she is a Witch if she sinks she wasn't.
2- To Weigh the mass of a woman in the old town of Oudewater*: The Witches Weighhouse. When a woman was too light, she was a Witch.
Witches fly on brooms, you can't be too heavy to do that.
proof it's old:
The waag was built in 1482 as a goods wagon. In 1545, Emperor Charles V was the only place in Europe to give Oudewater the privilege of a fair weighing process. No one was ever condemned as a witch.
The people who actually let themselves be weighed in Oudewater to show that they were not a witch, were few in number (only 13 people had received a certificate proving that they could not be a witch by weight) and mainly from the immediate surroundings of Oudewater.. At the time of the witch trials in the regions of Holland and Utrecht in the last decades of the sixteenth century, the Witches Weighhouse was not used. The government in Oudewater still carried out the weighing tests at a time when elsewhere in the Republic judges refused to carry out such tests with which accused witchcraft wanted to prove their innocence. Accusations of witchcraft were then regarded as libel rather than a serious complaint. Since payment had to be made for each certificate, economic motives may have played a role in this. After all, each weighting meant more income for the city of Oudewater. (source: Dutch wiki)
* I was raised about twelve miles from Oudewater. Unfortunately never 's proofed that I am no witch.
TPBM would like to be time/teletransported to the 16th century for one week and tells what (s)he would do over there or why (s)he wouldn't go.
I would like to be transported back in time, but it has 'Bad Idea and Likely Fatal' written all over it. That's never stopped me before.
TPBM would rather go forward in time.
Silly, that's what I'm doing right now!
TPBM has more watches that s/he can hold, which proves s/he has too much time on his/her hands.
(Sure do wish we could agree on some gender-neutral pronouns without resorting to using the current plurals to completely mess with grammar.)
That's funny you should ask. Just yesterday I had new batteries put in the two watches I own. As far as having too much time on my hands, no.
TPBM no longer, or never did wear a watch.
No longer for two reasons. 1) I wash my hands a lot and that means taking it off or getting it wet, and b) everything tells time now. Everything.
TPBM lives where they can hear church bells.
Apparently not! Haven't heard one in I can't imagine how long.
Of course, in central Texas (and likely many other places) churches are more common that Starbucks stores. Damn near every little strip mall has at least two. I've got two mega-churches within (at most) two miles from my house. I can't imagine that there are enough tithing members to support them all, yet they're everywhere.
TPBM won't answer the front door if there's a bible-banger (no slight intended; just can't think of the term) on the other side.
I'd rather have a bible banger than someone wanting to cut my trees down or repair my drive.
I just tell them that they are too late to save my soul and that I don't want to prove to them that there is no god. They rarely press the issue.
TPBM is more open to persuasion.
I don't know. People rarely offer a reasonable argument.
TPBM has the answer.
By which standards are you going by?
I have 3 sons, which by today's standards is one more than average.
I was one of 10 siblings, which by my generation's standards was considered large, but not uncommon.
My mother and father were one each of 12 and 15 siblings, respectively.
I'm not exactly sure how to answer your question succinctly. It's all a matter of perspective, I suppose.
TPBM knows the birthdays and anniversaries of all his/her family members (extended to include first cousins) without having to resort to a memory device other than her/his own brain.
I do not, but Google does! Thank you Google for telling me when to send that card!
TPBM had constructed a memory palace. I'd be very interested in how it''s worked for you.
No, I have a hard time remembering what I did yesterday sometimes. It sounds like it would be somewhat meditative though.
TPBM has constructed a memory palace and can help >33 SomeGuyInVirginia: with his inquiry.
All I can come up with is a scheme in The Aging Brain, where Polk made up this elaborate scenario with odd rhyming things in each room of an imaginary house in order to remember a seven digit number string. I was not impressed.
TPBM isn't (really!) THAT old!
There are parts of me that have become much older than my chronological age.
And there are parts of me that just refuse to grow up.
I often yell at myself to get off my own lawn, and stick my tongue out in response.
TPBM has a dichotomous relationship with one's self.
Edited to correct a horrid case of nonparallel verbs.
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