#virtual cowboy litter?

[sheepdogsandsidesaddle]

This is the face of a puppy who fucked around (finger painted w/ poop during a tantrum) and found out (had his first bath)

[bradfordfireextinguishers]

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Virtually all businesses in the UK require fire-fighting provision, although technically that decision is dependent upon the findings of a mandatory ‘fire risk assessment’. The likelihood is though, no matter how small, the recommendation would be to employ extinguishers. From a business owner’s perspective it makes sense – imagine that a small waste-paper-bin fire was allowed to get out of control and end up burning your building to the ground. Once the decision to install portable extinguishers has been taken then things can, unnecessarily, become complicated. Unfortunately, the industry has become littered with commission-based, high pressure sales companies often driven by huge profits rather than your safety. Many of which have no real understanding of BS5306 and would be deemed far from ‘competent’. An extinguisher service has many checks including weighing the units to ensure they haven’t lost any contents – Does your supplier weigh every extinguisher? They should! So how do you make your business safe without getting ripped off? Firstly, you need to determine how many and what type you require. There are some basic guidelines such as they should be on every floor, no more than 30m apart, in common locations (typically landings and exit points) and be appropriate for the fuels present. However, ensuring they are appropriate for the fuels present requires a degree of expertise. Pick some established local suppliers who offer free no-obligation extinguisher reviews and quotations. Check the terms and conditions (e.g. are they outright sales or endless rental). Find out what ongoing service costs will be. Service cost also often have hidden costs. Ensure that the quotation for servicing includes parts. Those that do not often end up charging more in parts than the service cost itself. Any other hidden costs? Well sort of .. yes! In that fire-safety legislation requires you to provide extinguisher training for your staff on induction and at regular refresher intervals which can be costly. Once again though there are cost effective measures you can employ. Firstly, you decide which members of staff are allowed to use the extinguishers. If you decide all staff can then all must be trained. However, if you decide only certain members of staff (fire wardens, supervisors etc) then the training budget can be significantly reduced. Also, the type of training can massively affect the cost. Hands-on is perhaps the best but most costly, particularly with a new starter as a trainer often has a minimum cost which is more cost effective with groups. But the legislation says it should be competent and involve a test of understanding so online training is an accessible less costly option and a blend of the two, over time is a good approach.  At certain intervals over the years extinguishers will need replacing, good companies will be more than happy to let your staff have a practical demonstration of an extinguisher that is at the end of its life.

A note on emergency lighting – What? I hear you say. Well thought given to extinguisher positioning can save you money on mandatory emergency light provision. The emergency lighting standard BS5266 requires that emergency lights should be fitted near extinguishers. Therefore, it may be practical to specify extinguisher positions near existing emergency lights. So undoubtedly it can be complicated for the layman and it may be clearer now why so many cowboys join the industry with the opportunity to baffle you with science. But it doesn’t have to be expensive to be safe. At Bradford Fire Extinguishers we offer free reviews and no-obligation quotations. All our sales are outright not rental and servicing costs include all parts. Our engineers are salaried and not commission-based and have no incentive to sell you anything you don’t need. Call us for a free extinguisher review today. Suite 2 - 26 Wrose Grove Wrose Bradford BD2 1PQ Tel: 01274 947028

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[dcnativegal]

Fire

Originally, I wrote about fire in July. It’s now September, and fire season in Oregon got so much worse. The fire called Eagle Creek was started by giggling 15 year  throwing firecrackers into a dry patch in the Columbia River Gorge: it became Oregon’s second largest fire, second only to the Chetco Fire on the southern western coast. Since the Eagle Creek Fire is close to Portland, and Multnomah Falls, it became national news, and maybe also because it was started by giggling teenagers.

I’m used to smog and fog on the east coast, but not smoke all summer and everywhere. Breathing smoke, smelling wood fire, has become a normal thing. I wondered if this is unusual and natives of Eastern Oregon tell me that it surely is. Apparently all the rain and snow over the winter encouraged a great growth of grass, referred to as fuel in fire lingo.

 Today is Sunday, September 9, 2017, and it feels as though the planet is having convulsions, tossing about its human parasitic invaders. Hurricane Irma is the strongest Atlantic hurricane ever, and it’s about to slam into Florida, after flattening Caribbean Islands. The biggest evacuation of that state, ever. Irma was preceded by Harvey, which basically drowned most of Houston, the USA’s 4th largest city. There was an earthquake, over 8 on the scale, that Clara felt in Guatemala, off the coast of Mexico, that hasn’t killed the huge number in the thousands that the earthquake caused 20 years ago there. But it’s bad. First rescue, then salvage.

And then there’s fire. Everywhere in the west, from Canada south to Utah. A flame.

From July:

On Saturday, July 8, a group of visitors from the wet part west of the Cascades was shooting some explosive, for fun, and set off a wildfire. This in the town of Summer Lake, just north of Paisley and south of Christmas Valley and Silver Lake. I’d just driven past that area 2 hours before the fire on my way west. First it was 600 acres, then 3,000, and finally, 6,000. As of July 14, it was 90% contained. Unlike hurricanes, there isn’t a list of names that one runs through to name it. It’s based on location. This was the Ana Fire, named after a reservoir.

Fire is not something I’ve grown up with as a persistent danger. A nuclear bomb landing on the Nation’s Capital was an abstraction and pretty scary to contemplate, but a decimated DC was only an idea, until 9/11 when a plane hit the Pentagon and another plane was unaccounted for before the passengers made it crash in Pennsylvania, killing themselves and the hijackers, while saving however many DC residents and tourists. Fire is an annual fear. A daily thing to prevent in the summer months. We, the fine people of Lake County, know what to do and what not to do. Don’t idle your engine over tall grass. Don’t burn trash until it’s officially okay to do that. Don’t pitch a cigarette anywhere. Campfire? Ha!

But then there are two kinds of knuckleheads. The kind that shoot explosives for sport, in the Oregon Outback, when they think they’re still somehow in the soggy Western part of the state. The other kind is the arsonist. Last summer’s fire that nearly consumed Paisley was set intentionally. That fire is called the Withers Fire, named after the family who owns the land it was set on, one of the long-resident, stalwart families of ranchers in Lake County. That knucklehead has been identified, but apparently there was some inter-agency foolishness, and someone went on vacation after securing some evidence, and now there’s no way to indict the dude. The Western Oregon knuckleheads are known, and although they did not intentionally cause the Ana Fire, they are liable. Financially, they are screwed.

I watched a 90-minute video of a community meeting that the firefighting agencies put together. I was fascinated, and will continue to be slightly obsessed with the whole matter of fire, now that I am in the line of it, so to speak. A woman from some agency ran the meeting, introduced all the people, mostly men, from many agencies. I will get familiar with them all over time. The designation of how serious a fire it was, who fought what when, the airplanes and helicopters, the hotshot firefighters, the cause and the legal repercussions, the backburning, all of it was gone over. A woman who sounded like a reporter asked questions to get it all down correctly on paper. There was scattered applause for the fine work that was done, with no loss of human life; only a shack and a hunting cabin burned. Now instead of watching Russian car crashes on youtube, or pimples being popped in a sterile environment, I can watch videos of fire, firefighting, and community meetings. (My actual youtube obsession is knitting and crochet techniques. Truly. I must be a menopausal chubby woman. Indeed, I am. They are riveting. Back to fire.)

It is a sad sight to drive by and see perky houses intact, in a sea of blackened, denuded land.

I am also learning to associate something that was very pleasant and a great relief in DC--the summer thunderstorm—with fire. In Paisley, a thunderstorm means lightning strikes, and thus, lots of little fires that can turn into big ones. There are several fires in Lake and Klamath counties right now, including one near enough to Tank Springs that Valerie drove up there to keep an eye out for her beloved family plot up there, and watch the firefighters. All is apparently safe, for now. I have to associate thunder and lightning with fire and possible devastation. This is a world class bummer, I can tell you. I wonder if I’ll get used to that.

Having lived in Washington DC for 56 years, I shared with all the residents the same kind of primal fear, of getting nuked by the Soviet Union. Until the Soviet Union was no more. And then it was ‘terrorism’. And the scary possibility of attack came true on September 11, 2001. I was at work, staring at the Washington Post web site, procrastinating, when I saw the very odd picture of a plane pointing toward the World Trade Center and about to hit it. Within minutes, the entire staff was watching television. Shortly after both planes hit New York, the one plane hit at the Pentagon. I got through to my then husband, who went to get the children from their elementary school that was exactly 12 blocks from the Capitol building. He scooped up some other kids from our neighborhood after reaching their parents, and held a kind of camp. I told him not to let them watch TV. In downtown DC there were a lot of sirens, and rumors about truck bombs at the State Department 12 blocks from us. The White House and Congress was evacuating to an undisclosed location.  My job’s office location was 6 blocks from the White House. We heard about the fourth plane and knew it was headed for either the Capitol building or the White House. We were all relieved to hear it had crashed in Pennsylvania because it was indeed pointed toward D.C.: I am eternally grateful to those passengers, who would have died wherever they crashed, but saved a big swath of the nation’s capital by going down in a rural area instead, not killing anyone but themselves. And the Saudi Arabian hijackers.

Eventually, I took the subway home, although I could have walked the 4 miles. The Metro was deserted by 3pm. It had been a devastating day: all sense of security and predictability blown away by the planes.

Fire season is all summer long, every summer. I now know how to keep track of fires on which web sites. I know what that yellowish haze means: smoke. I know that the most up to date information for Paisley can be found on our virtual community bulletin board called “For Sale in Paisley.”  You can buy a horse, a truck, cowboy boots, and second-hand clothes. You’ll also find information about stray dogs, weird weather, home games at the school gym, which internet companies are having trouble, and which fires are burning nearby.  

I will get used to this.

And I know what I’ll try to rescue: Val will take care of her stuff.

·     I’ll get my cat and cat food and litter.

·     My journals, kept continuously since college, which fill a trunk. They are kind of heavy. So only if I can.

·     My wallet. Phone, computer, chargers, c-pap machine. All my medicines. There are a lot of them.

·     A backpack full of jars of apple sauce and protein bars. A big water bottle.

·     My kids’ dad got all the photo albums, and that’s really fine, they are for our children. I have a couple with pictures of my ancestors. I can fit them all into a suitcase.

·     And my latest knitting projects. My needles and hooks.

·     Lots of size 11 underwear. I’m a big girl, and I need my big girl panties. Two pants, tee shirts, a sweatshirt. Since it is summer I’d need to high tail it, don’t need much. One pair of sneakers, 6 pairs of socks.

·     Would I have the luxury to be this selective? Beats me.

 My safety is tied up in my fellow Paisley residents, and I trust them. We will survive whatever befalls.

"Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire."                          

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin SJ

[nitewrighter]

Gency pregnancy: Need some Talon. Gabe's father was killed before he was born. Now Reaper has Genji at gunpoint and Mcree trying to talk him down

Me: Some of these prompts are old and I should get to them

Me, in a hood, to me: Do this prompt that you literally just got.

Me: But—

Me in a hood: It has Reaper.

Me: Shit u right.

Content Warning for blood and stuff because come on Reaper is here.

—-

“I’m just saying, no matter what pops out, it works,” said McCree.

“We’re not naming the child ‘Jesse,’” said Genji.

“It’s a cute name though,” said McCree, “Plus you don’t have to worry about whether to give it a German or a Japanese name.”

“You can name your child ‘Jesse,’” said Genji, folding his arms.

“We are not naming any of our children ‘Jesse,’” Hanzo’s voice came over the comm channel.

“Glad you’re thinkin’ ‘bout kids already, Darlin’,” said McCree, grinning.

“I’m not–You—” Hanzo blustered then caught himself, “We are not naming any of our purely hypothetical and likely never existing children after Jesse.”

McCree just snorted in response to this.

“I would appreciate it if you people used the comm channel for the actual mission,” Jack Morrison’s gruff voice came over the comm channel.

“All right all right,” said McCree, “Hanzo, how’s our perimeter looking?” he said.

“No unusual activity,” said Hanzo, “The interior?”

“Yeah no sign,” said McCree, tilting his hat back, “D? Zen? How are things looking out in the gardens?”

“Nothing out here,” D.Va’s voice came over the comm.

“Confirmed. All is tranquil,” said Zenyatta.

“Mei? How are things looking at you and the old man’s angle?”

Jack audibly scoffed over the comm channel.

“Night Market is all clear,” said Mei.

“Perhaps we should contact Lucheng? Tell them it was a false alarm?” said Genji.

McCree turned and looked over at Genji with raised eyebrows.

“What?” said Genji. 

“Nothin’ just… Usually you triple check everything before calling it in,” said McCree.

“We have triple-checked the building,” said Genji, “And Hanzo has checked the exterior and D.Va and Zenyatta have covered the gardens and Mei and Morrison have the night market. We should not spend any more time here than necessary.”

McCree smirked, “Mr. Family Man’s anxious to get back already, huh?”

Genji scoffed. “That, or this report could be a diversion and—” The lights suddenly shut off, “Kuso,” muttered Genji, his visor glowing in the dark.

“Looks like we’re in for a long night,” said McCree, he brought a hand up to his ear, “D, I need you and Zen to head to the Lijiang’s generator room and try and get the building’s power back on. Get ready for some company.”

“Got it,” said D.Va.

“Talon agents sighted in night market!” said Mei over the comms.

“You need backup?” said McCree.

“No! We can handle them! Stay in the control center!” said Morrison.

“Understood,” said Genji. He and McCree exchanged glances and started moving through the dark control center. Backup power kept some walkway lights and the emergency exit signs on, but aside from that the only lights were from the city just outside. They moved into another room and McCree flinched and drew his gun at a vaguely humanoid shape behind him, only to find it was one of the astronaut suits Lijiang Tower had on display. He exhaled, then there was the sound of bootsteps and Genji drew his sword. In the darkness they first made out the red glow of Talon night-vision goggles. The first burst of gunfire came and both Genji and McCree dodged off to the sides of the door. McCree hid behind one of the astronaut suits on display while Genji crouched in a corner.

“McCree,” Genji hissed from across the doorway. McCree glanced up at Genji. Genji made an outward flicking motion with his fingers in front of his visor and McCree immediately understood and nodded. They waited in the darkness. Genji dimmed the lights of his visor and heat sinks and McCree felt a bead of sweat inch his way down the back of his neck as they heard the bootsteps of Talon agents close in.

 McCree drew one of his flashbang grenades from the interior of his serape and Genji held up a hand for McCree to hold position. The first Talon agent passed through the door, red night vision goggles glowing, but didn’t think to look over his shoulder at Genji, or behind the spacesuit for McCree as he walked through. McCree gave a look to Genji but Genji shook his head. Two more Talon agents walked in the door, again, ignoring them. McCree looked to Genji but Genji shook his head again. Finally, one last Talon agent walked through the door. Genji gave McCree a single nod. McCree leapt out from behind the display and threw the flashbang grenade, rendering the four talon agents stunned. McCree fanned the hammer as Genji swept through with his wakizashi. One Talon agent managed to release a brief burst of submachine gunfire but Genji simply deflected the shots and downed him. Once again Lijiang’s control center was dark and silent.

 McCree brought a finger to his ear. “Morrison,” he said, “We just took down a contingent of Talon agents. We need to regroup at—” Genji suddenly tackled McCree from the waist as a spray of shotgun fire littered the wall right behind where McCree had been standing. McCree and Genji quickly recovered and stood back to back as a rasping chuckle seemed to fill the room like smoke.

“…shit,” said McCree.

“McCree! Status report!” Morrison barked over the comms.

Both McCree and Genji leapt out of another spray of shotgun fire.

“Reaper is here!” Genji spoke into the comms, “Repeat, Reaper is here!”

“I’m making my way to your location!” said Hanzo. 

“D.Va we need those lights now!” said McCree into his comm, reloading his peacekeeper then pointing it into the darkness. 

“Little busy at the moment!” D.Va’s voice on the comm was half-drowned out by gunfire.

With a flick of his wrist Genji had three shuriken at the ready. “We need to get out of close-quarters,” said McCree, glancing over his shoulder at Genji.

The deep chuckle sounded again, “All this time and you still don’t know what you’re doing,” a voice spoke.

McCree instinctively pulled back the hammer on the peacekeeper at the sound of Reaper’s voice but was virtually blind in the darkness as he and Genji attempted to move out into a more open area

“Don’t know where to look, cowboy?” Reaper’s voice bounced off the walls, nearly impossible to tell the source.

“Hell, I’d hide in the dark too if I was as ugly as you,” said McCree. There was a flash of gunfire and both Genji and McCree leapt out of the way of it and McCree threw another flashbang grenade in the direction of the fire as he rolled and regained his footing. Reaper covered his face as the flashbang burst. Genji and McCree raced past him, both firing and throwing shuriken at him, but both their attacks phasing through him like smoke. Reaper returned fire only to hear their footsteps fall away from him into Lijiang Tower’s cavernous satellite monitoring room. Reaper half-scoffed half snarled and headed down the stairs into the room, where both McCree and Genji were hiding behind one of the massive walls of monitors that, had the power of the building been on. Genji glanced over at McCree and made the same outward flicking motion he had done earlier and McCree nodded. They listened for the sound of his footsteps closing in. As soon as Reaper rounded the corner McCree threw a flashbang grenade.

“Ryūjin no ken wo kurae!” Genji launched himself at Reaper, the Shimada dragon spiraling around his sword. He slashed at Reaper but Reaper turned to smoke and Genji phased through him. Reaper fired and a spray of shotgun fire caught Genji in the back, the force of the blast sending him tumbling across the floor, his sword clattering behind him.

McCree’s breath caught in his throat and he raised his gun on Reaper only to be met with a shotgun blast in the stomach. The force of the the blast knocked McCree against one of the satellite monitors where he slumped to the floor. It was then that the lights in Lijiang Tower finally turned back on.

“Light’s back on!” D.Va announced over the comm, “We’re rendezvousing at your position! What’s your status? McCree? Genji? You there?”

The lights in Genji’s heat sinks and visor and torso were flickering as he grunted in pain on the floor. Reaper glanced over his shoulder at McCree, who was gripping his stomach and struggling against the monitor. Then turned his attention back to Genji.

“Did you really think pulling another little light show like you did back in Volskaya would work again?” said Reaper, stepping forward. He half scoffed and half chuckled, “You know, I never paid you back for that.”

Genji coughed and struggled to get up as Reaper stopped in front of him. Reaper pointed a gun at Genji’s head. “It’s all right now,” he said, “I know your pain. The things Doctor Ziegler creates don’t belong in this world.”

“Angela–” Genji coughed and Reaper briefly pulled the gun back in slight surprise that he was using her first name, “Angela didn’t make me. She saved me.”

“You believe that?” Reaper tilted his head.

Genji coughed. “She tried to save you too. She tried–,” he coughed again and the heat sinks in his shoulders steamed and their lights flickered, “But the SEP serum—”

Reaper suddenly seized Genji by the throat, hoisted him up and slammed him into the wall behind him. “Let’s see what it is Doctor Ziegler saves,” he said. He fixed his clawed hands on Genji’s faceplate and visor, then with a grunt he yanked back and ripped them both off, revealing Genji’s heavily scarred face. Genji’s breath was ragged. 

Reaper scoffed a little. “So she slaved hours upon hours in a lab… for this,” said Reaper. Genji spat in his face. Reaper was unfazed by this and pressed the barrel of his gun against Genji’s scarred cheek. 

“Gabe,” Reaper heard a voice behind him and briefly brought the gun away from Genji’s cheek and glanced over his shoulder to see McCree struggling to his feet, peacekeeper revolver in hand.

“You don’t get to call me that,” said Reaper, turning on his heel to face McCree while still gripping Genji’s neck. 

“You don’t want to do this, Gabe,” said McCree, bracing a bloody hand against the satellite monitor. 

Reaper scoffed. “I do want to do this. I’ve been doing this for a very long time,” He gave Genji’s neck a slight squeeze as he said this, causing Genji’s legs to flail weakly, “I happen to be very good at it.”

“Gabe—he’s got a family,” said McCree. 

“I know. And the reason he’s here–the reason he’s like this, is because they didn’t finish the job,” Reaper put his gun back against Genji’s cheek, “So I’ll do it.”

“That’s not what I mean–I mean he’s…” McCree grunted in pain and doubled over, gripping his stomach.

“Jesse,” Genji’s voice was weak, “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” said Reaper, turning his attention back to Genji, “You think you’re the first person with a family I’ve killed? Let me guess: Overwatch is your family now. I believed that too until…” Reaper trailed off and looked at Genji, “No…” he said slowly, “That’s not it.” He noticed Genji’s eyes widening, and Reaper suddenly drew back from Genji, “…You’re not serious,” said Reaper. Genji said nothing, only coughed a little.

“He’s gonna have a family,” McCree, still gripping the wound in his stomach.

Reaper scoffed. “Still a poor liar, Cowboy,” he said, pressing his gun against the side of Genji’s face, “But don’t worry. You’ll be joining him soon–” 

An arrow whistled through the air and embedded itself in the side of Reaper’s chest. Reaper glanced down at the arrow.

“Rude,” he said.

“Ryū ga waga teki wo kurau!” Hanzo’s voice echoed through the room and suddenly two enormous dragons were spiraling towards Reaper. Reaper dropped Genji to the ground and dissolved into shadows and disappeared as the dragons were sweeping over him and Hanzo leapt down from a balcony and rushed over to McCree and Genji.

“Genji–” he was at his brother’s side in an instant. Genji was unsettlingly still until he coughed and Hanzo breathed a sigh of relief. 

“’Bout time you got here,” said McCree, slumping to the floor.

“I came here as swiftly as—Jesse!” Hanzo nearly moved to rush over but then glanced down at Genji and was stuck in a panic between who to run to when a glowing golden orb suddenly shot over and hovered over Genji.

“Oh no,” D.Va and Zenyatta were standing at the edge of the room. D.Va sprang out of her MEKA and ran over with Zenyatta alongside her.

“Is he—?” she looked down at Genji.

“He’s alive,” said Hanzo.

“Reaper?” Jack rushed into the room with Mei hurrying behind him.

McCree coughed up some blood, “Just missed him,” he said, smiling with blood-pinkened teeth.

“Dammit,” muttered Jack as he sprinted over and set down a biotic field to stabilize both Genji and McCree.

“We need to get them back to the Watchpoint!” said Mei.

“Athena,” Jack put a hand to his ear, “Warm up the Orca.” He glanced over at Genji as Hanzo hauled him to his feet and slung his arm over his shoulder, “We’re going home.” Jack held a hand out to McCree, and McCree reached forward and took it. Jack helped him up to his feet and slung McCree’s arm over his own shoulder and began walking with him. Zenyatta periodically switched the orb of harmony between Genji and McCree as they walked over.

“Brother…” Genji’s hand weakly went up 

“Conserve your strength,” said Hanzo.

“Brother, if I don’t make it back to the Watchpoint, tell Angela—” Genji started.

“You will make it back to the Watchpoint. You will be fine,” Hanzo said with a furrowed brow. 

“Please… just promise me… if anything happens… You’ll tell Angela…”

Hanzo rolled his eyes, “Tell Angela what?” said Hanzo.

“Tell Angela not to name the baby ‘Jesse,’” said Genji. Hanzo sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Genji laughed weakly then winced.

“You’re an ass, Genji,” said McCree, Genji just snickered weakly in turn as they made their way, limping, to the Orca.

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[zimmermanfrandsen9-blog]

Travel Insurance For Extreme Sports

Server Rule Sets - in addition to all of the above obstacles, most email servers can be custom configured with rules that will redirect or delete messages on just about any content that you can think of! A incorrectly coded rule could create a virtual sink hole for messages. Credit cards are such wonderful tools and they get us into so much trouble. Credit card bills arrive in the mail with all the heft of a college acceptance letter. But we shouldn't be surprised, because we use them for everything, from bill paying to groceries and parking fees. Hey, it's convenient, and we earn bonus points. Trouble is, when we've put an extra purchase or two or three or four on plastic, it's not just the physical size of of the bill that grows. Control the humidity - the higher the humidity, the harder it is for you to keep cool. So make sure that you control this. This can be done by sealing up air leaks that are present in your house. You can hire an HVAC contractor for this type of project. There are some DIY articles on the net too if you don't want to hire a contractor. Make sure that the RH is lower than 50%. My Italian clients brought their own dive equipments because they were the holder of PADI license. While the native divers used their own talent. Wow, wow, wow, what a great day, we fished a lot (only selected fish), one thing surprised me that Bli Monyoh got 4 king lobsters. At 11.00 a.m. we finished our adventure and the local man was waiting us on the beach ready with his woods fire, chili, onions, garlic, salt and coconut oil. We grilled our fish in relax atmosphere on the beach with nice breeze of the ocean, than enjoyed a delicious gala lunch in cowboy style. Wow amazing, we really celebrated and enjoyed a great day. Fortunately, ferrets almost always pick a corner to potty in and will rarely leave a mess in the middle of the floor. The best thing to do in the room your ferret will play in is place litter pans in several corners of the room. Your ferret will likely not travel far from where it's standing to potty, so having several pans will keep accidents at a minimum. If bai phao dai co vung tau start to notice your ferret returning to the same spot to potty, you might consider moving a litter pan to that area. The LED-backlit display has a 1024x600 pixel resolution, which is a bit lower than what the typical notebooks offer. However, text and images are still presented clearly on this netbook's screen. The speakers are small and soft, yet louder than those of previous Toshiba netbook models. You can use sound to find space as well. Listen to the even fall of your feet on the ground then find the silence, the space between your footfalls. Listen to the distant whine of a siren. Listen intently until siren finely fades into silent space. Space is everywhere. You only need to become aware of it to begin space-walking.

[lazytigerpersona-64e7b878-blog]

WLTM Bumble – A dating app where women call the shots

New Post has been published on https://teamkgsr.com/wltm-bumble-a-dating-app-where-women-call-the-shots/

WLTM Bumble – A dating app where women call the shots

It’s 4am on a Tuesday whilst my smartphone pings. nevertheless, inside the depths of sleep, I reach out and snatch it, knocking a cold cup of coffee over the unread mountain of books on my bedside. I swear loudly, mop up the mess with one hand and look blearily at the message on my display. It’s from Otis, 27, who i have reputedly just matched with on Tinder: “hello horny like ur curls. Wanna come over n get naked and that I’ll display you my curls.”

And that turned into the day I deleted Tinder.

there’s no denying that the pursuit of love inside the 21st century has become littered with digital landmines. There are actually greater than 91 million human beings round the world on dating apps – and maximum of that is way to Tinder. the primary courting cellphone app of its type, Tinder arrived on the scene in 2012, first in US colleges earlier than spreading outwards, nationally and across the world, from Rome and London to Rio de Janeiro and Cape metropolis. The idea itself become simple – make people’s picture the front and centre, emulating how we first come upon human beings in actual lifestyles, and ensure the handiest humans who’ve mutually approved every different’s profiles can begin chatting. And ultimately, make it as simple and addictive as a sport. way to humanity’s typical amusement of passing aesthetic judgment on others, the app has grown at an exceptional rate. In January, it turned into reported that Tinder makes 21 million matches and tactics 1.5 billion swipes every day – as of the being of this 12 months, it had made five billion matches.

however, it has also emerged as an area where women frequently ought to places up with the type of sexist, vulgar and aggressive messages that, if said in real lifestyles, could see you right away kept away from as a pervert. complete websites, blogs or even books have sprung up – which include the Instagram bills tindernightmares.com and ByeFelipe – documenting the daily obscenities acquired, unprompted and undesirable, by hundreds of thousands of girls. they could variety from the particularly harmless (“I’m sensing that you have magical boobs”) to the aggressive, with words inclusive of “slut” bandied about freely. certainly, for the duration of the 48 hours I dabbled with the relationship app, Otis’s 4am message – even as proving the straw that broke the camel’s lower back – was at the tame stop of the size. Even my male buddies acknowledge it happening among their friends. speakme to Oliver, 26, he recounted how he had been sitting with a chum who, flicking through Tinder, had matched with two ladies in brief succession. immediately he despatched them each a pornographic message. I’m appalled, I say. What form of man or woman is he? “Oh, a genuinely satisfactory guy, just come out of a seven-yr courting. He’s actually quiet and likes krautrock,” says Oliver. Why the messages then? Oliver shrugs. “because he can, I wager. It’s terrible, however no person’s going to call him out on it.”

tons of the blame for the unpleasant studies had by ladies on relationship apps has been placed down them being mainly developed within the “boys-club lifestyle” of Silicon Valley. it’s far an environment where simplest eleven% of executives are girls, an imbalance that seems to have filtered into the mindset of many dating apps. in line with one developer, this has been perpetuated by the truth that courting web sites and apps nevertheless make most of their sales from men.

“the biggest trouble is ladies have usually been ignored as a customer group,” he said. “due to the fact nobody has ever addressed the creep factor, girls are constantly chased off courting websites and apps. So from a courting company attitude, they understand that girls are very fragile at the website and so often can’t be monetised. therefore, men have constantly been the focus, which has just perpetuated the hassle.” but, the tide seems to be turning. a new technology of app developers, a lot of them girls,

are launching a digital fightback thru a wave of female-orientated dating platforms.

From apps where ladies are the

gatekeepers to initiating conversations, to others in which guys can only be invited by women, the movement to make sure virtual courting is now much less a laugh for ladies is quickly gathering momentum. And the girl leading the price is not who you might expect.

I meet Tinder co-founder Whitney Wolfe inside the airy surroundings of Perla’s restaurant in Austin, Texas, wherein lobsters and other edible crustaceans leer down at us from massive fish tanks. The chatty waiter who involves take our orders opens with: “good day y’all,” in his friendly Texan drawl, and a circulation of humans wearing cowboy hats, tassels and tie-dye filter past the window, on their manner to the town’s famous South by Southwest competition. we are 1,242 miles far from l. a., the home of Tinder, and 1,500 miles far from Silicon Valley, however frankly we may be in another global totally. Wolfe, 25, lives here partly due to the fact it’s far the home of her oil magnate boyfriend, but also because it indicates a distance that is both bodily and metaphorical between her and her former life. last yr, she discovered herself the reluctant issue of a considerably ugly media furore after she released a lawsuit towards Tinder – the company she had labored at as both co-founder and head of advertising for nearly 3 years. Her criticism become sexual harassment and discrimination towards fellow co-founders, Justin Mateen and Sean Rad, alleging that when her romantic dating with Mateen became sour, he had sent her a flow of “horrendously sexist, racist, and otherwise irrelevant remarks, emails, and textual content messages”. After Rad allegedly refused to address the scenario, or even threatened to fire Wolfe, she resigned from the company.

The resulting felony showdown – which turned into performed out completely within the public eye last summer – proved nasty and malicious, bringing out the worst in Silicon Valley’s notoriously misogynist subculture. “Oh the irony,” screamed the internet. “The founder of a hook-up website is claiming sexual harassment.”

[sheepdogsandsidesaddle]

hhhh pubby

[sheepdogsandsidesaddle]

I feel safe enough in my anonymity to post something here, so I will.

This last week has sucked majorly in terms of my pet(s) medical needs vs care received. A week ago, Fly had her x-ray that showed one large puppy. I asked my vet if I should go ahead with a C-section and was told she shouldn't have a problem. When I asked what the plan would be if she did have a problem, it was waved off. Monday, Fly ended up needing an emergency C-section after being in stage one labor all weekend, then losing her mucus plug and not progressing in less than four hours. Fine, whatever, it was a possibility that I was financially and emotionally prepared for. I was a little peeved about my initial worry being brushed off, but mostly just grateful that the clinic got her in and under and done in less than two hours without any trouble.

Fast forward to today when I took Dutch in to have his declaws removed. Dutch came out of the oven with three rear dewclaws; one on the left hind, and two on the right hind. In my experience, rear dewclaws are usually loosely connected, non-functional, and prone to injury or impromptu "amputation in the field", so I opted to have them removed, especially the double dewclaw. I loaded Fly, Dutch, and K (my boyfriend) up in the car and went to the clinic, who took us as a walk in without issue. Everything is curbside, so when I called to say we arrived, I specified with the desk to ONLY remove Dutch's rear dewclaws. When a tech came out and told us there wasn't an exam room open for us all to go in, I opted to let her take just Dutch in so as not to clog up the works by taking up a room they could be getting a scheduled client into, since we just came as a walk in. Specified again with the tech that I only wanted Dutch's rear dewclaws removed and to leave the fronts on. She told me no problem and that they'd be right back out.

She came out with my puppy missing all of his declaws.

She told me the vet said it was just better to get them all done at once, so he went ahead against my request for my dog's care and just removed all of them. I was so upset I cried while she got me a receipt and cried the whole way home. Myself and my family have been going to see this vet for 12-15 years at this point. We've referred our own friends, family members, clients, and neighbors because we have always been happy with the care taken. For my explicit request to be ignored for something completely irreversible is an insurmountable offense.

I called the clinic this afternoon after much debating and tears and asked to speak to the clinic manager and was told she would have to talk to the vet before contacting me. The worst part of all this is that there is nothing they can do to make this up to me. His declaws can't be put back on. It's not worth the $13 to be refunded. I just wish it never happened. I wish I wasn't ignored. I wish I had gone ahead and waited for a room instead of trying to be polite. I'm just sick over it.

[sheepdogsandsidesaddle]

Happy one week, little guy!

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Fly and new baby Dutch 🥰

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Where's your baby, Fly?

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Going full on white girl Instagram over here. Place your bets now!

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He's a runner he's a track star

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Dutch

[sheepdogsandsidesaddle]

Two whole pounds!!