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Thread: The funny RL observations and anecdotes thread RPG omnibus

  1. #501
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    Oh, that was fun. It is freezing cold, and I just spent more time than I should admit fiddling with IRC clients.

    Yes, on DALnet (irc.dal.net) there is a channel named #jizzelbin which I created.

    IRC is, IMHO, completely useless without using something called an IRC Bouncer, which permits the history of chats to be visible during times one is not online.

    There are plenty of ways to set this combination up, but it's pretty hacker-ish, and probably not something the average person would want to do.

    However, on the Android phone, a good client program is AndroIRC (among others, but I like that the best, in addition to Weechat in a TerMux session).

    On Linux I like Weechat and, for a very simple GUI program, HexChat.

    I'm thinking IRC is tedious and useless, unless you're actively online most of the time, or need up-to-the minute chat during some prescribed interval of the day.

    No clue what people are actually chatting about in the bigger channels, but I'm pretty sure it's either disgusting or illegal, or else very boring.

  2. #502
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    well, I got to try out my once-favorite expression (that I only fairly recently copied) in (appropriate) company, and it was not exactly met with the LOLZ I expected. That really does make my pussy dry. Christ, man, "Oh, man, hey, I didn't know, uh." Lighten up, Francis, it's a joke.

    OTOH, I'm pretty sure "the women" are getting a little bit friendlier nowadays, as in the past week or so.

    It's probably some combination of, if they're partnered up, they're getting boned more attentively what with the dark season approaching and ek setera, or, if not, "they" have more of an inclination to seek the company of others.

    NO, I really do insist I'm not a misogynist, nor a complete virgin nerd. Of course it's a generalization, but it is based on up-to-the-moment observation. So, at least for the women I encounter in the wild of the warehouse, namely coworkers, I think it's true.

    And I think I can read people pretty well. Except when I don't.

    OH, on the similar vein of sociological gold, I've observed that at least two separate women, not relations or especially close to me, but women I know on a friendly basis, instantly seem to understand the gesture .... how to describe ... if, say, you hold your LH with the palm at chest-height, thumb facing "north," and with the RH, also in an open palm configuration, roughly parallel to the "line" created by the opposing hand, make a few swift strokes resulting in contact, whether .... OH, fuck it, you know what I mean, a sort of miming of a "pimp slap," in the same way you'd see a jock in the movies pounding his fist into the other hand while blurting out "NERRRRRRDS!"

    Well, they thought it was funny, I guess, each in their separate ways, and in separate contexts, but I was surprised each seemed to immediately get my humorous intent.

  3. #503
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    nm
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 18 Dec 2019 at 01:22 AM.

  4. #504
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    Motherfuckers.

    Well, it is a nylon watch band (although it's apparently made for midgets or ladies — and, confession time, I actually have not very big wrists), and the lady at the jeweler's put it on my Casio MTP-4500D-1AV just to be nice. (Just a quartz watch with a chronograph and a slide-rule bezel: Not an expensive watch, but it suits my purpose, having tradition big hand-little hand analog hands and the chronograph. TBH, the slide rule is a bit superfluous: for the precision, it's really no better than just doing the arithmetic in your head).

    It's not a NATO band, though: those have the extra loop around back so if one of the springbars comes loose, the whole thing doesn't fall in the toilet. Also, $24.95 for that hunk of shit? I admit I chose the green color because the black nylon band was $27.95.

    Oh well, it's fine for now.

  5. #505
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    Here was a new one from today. So, this guy I've talked with a bunch at this bar, he works a few days in the kitchen there. A little older than me, but not by much. Musician guy you know. He always says "Hey, what's up Maestro!" so that's his nickname for me. I can't remember his name so I just call him "Chef" or "Cookie."

    Yeah, so he had a good one today: "So, what's good, Maestro?"

    Me: "what's good?"

    Him: "Yeah, what's good?"

    I never heard that one before. I didn't have a cool answer like "New Orleans red beans rice, pralines and pianos," but I always enjoy hearing new bits of speech.

    ETA And, yes, while my forearms and wrists are plenty strong, they lack in bulk. I make up for it in having extremely strong grip strength and relatively large hands, not to mention large-ish upper arm muscles. It was a problem playing tennis, since one of my strengths was volleying at the net, and despite having a powerful, accurate forehand and backhand, even one-handed backhand, my serve was never what it could have been, despite my height, thanks to poor study habits and underdeveloped muscle bulk in my forearms. Believe you me, I drank milk, lifted, everything.

    Yeah, it is funny in that I can do crazy stupid feats of strength with forearms and wrists, like wrangling dowels loaded with weights of various kinds, or all kinds of stuff, but they just aren't bulky like the biceps and triceps, and the pectoral muscles and those about the shoulders.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 28 Dec 2019 at 12:37 AM.

  6. #506
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    Well, some tailgater (or rather his child bride driving, or someone similarly inexperienced) happened to pull into the same store I was going to after work.

    So, I got to call someone a cocksucker, somewhat sotto voce, but audible.

    Granted, that's not unusual: usually I reserve that language for contract drivers at work who do defective things.

    I'm back! Yeah!

  7. #507
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    This seems to be a continuing theme. Some cockbiting prick was up my ass on a rainy night on what should be a hassle-free highway.

    I turn into the grocery store where I was headed after going to my bank before they closed.

    Of course Mr. Cockbiting Prick Dickless Shithead pulled in after me.

    I was able, through correct use of turn signals through the small parking lot, to end up within fifty meters of his car.

    Even though it was misting gently with rain, I had the satisfaction of having a cigarette while sitting on the hood of my car (N.B., my car, not his or anybody else's), and conspicuously using my cell phone to photograph his vehicle.

    I hope that little prick shit himself and continues to do so. And his child bride or whoever the fuck was in the passenger seat.

    I could see he was considering coming up to me and starting some shit, but apparently nobody fucks with the Jesus. That'd be me.

    Stupid fucking pricks, driving like animals. Where do the fuck do you think you're going, shithead? Ain't nothing up that road except my foot in your ass, you peckerwood.

  8. #508
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    Oh, this gal at work....I really wish I could remember if she was the one who said I looked like Alec Baldwin (not exactly a compliment, but I'll take that over the standard "ZOMG it's Nic Cage!" any day, since I heard that so many times, and am not appreciative especially of men who say that — "yeah, cool dude, he's a good actor, man!") and also mentioned she was married.

    So, anyway, I don't know if this is the same gal or just one, but she has really been pouring it on pretty thick.

    Calling me by my first name, saying "Hi, Jizzelbin [not my actual first name ], and wishing me a Happy new year blah blah.

    It's enough to make me confused.

    In the first place, I'm not sure if it's the same gal — I can find that out easy enough and just ask her to remind me of her name (trust me, that's not uncommon for me to forget names, nor to remedy the problem with a quick question, takes under ten seconds) — in the second place, I wouldn't say it wasn't a ruse a bit on her part, the whole "blah blah...BTW my husband...blah blah." OTOH, she just might be friendly (although in a rather flirtatious way) and just likes the way I roll freight.

    Meh.

    Next time I see her, I can figure it out.

    Speaking of nothing, in my current town there sure do seem to be a number of chunky white woman of impregnable age who seem nevertheless healthy and desirous of male company.

    I'm not complaining a bit!

    Sholem aleichem!
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 01 Jan 2020 at 03:32 AM.

  9. #509
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    I really hope daily use of pseudoephedrine (aka Sudafed, generic name Sudogest) does not have a rebound effect upon discontinuation.

    Yeah, probably not smoking like a chimney and cleaning my domicile once in a while would have an effect as well.

    I don't have no fucking cold like a goddamned infant — fuck it. I'll buy some Mucinex and use that.

    I'm pretty well convinced I have a form of COPD or emphysema, at this point, I just don't want to be blowing my fucking nose for no reason all the fucking time. Yeah, I'll have plenty of time to contemplate my demise while imitating Mikey after that bastard Sterling Hayden punched him (yeah, I know the guy's name in the "book," I just don't want to misspell it).

    Fucking A.

    That's all I have to say about today. Go to the bank, eagle flies on Friday, put gas in the car, bought some Febreze, some smokes, had a few beers and a breakfast out, and then went home and did dishes.

    Fucking A.

    And I'm glad I did it, too.

  10. #510
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    I suppose this is funny, or remarkable.

    So, I always fuel up at this place where cabbies use. No reason, except they're the cheapest price in town, and they don't give you any bullshit about making you go inside and pay next to the Slim Jims and all that bullshit.

    Anyway, so, I ask for forty cash regular, and it's an old buddy from an earlier shift.

    Yeah. so it takes a few minutes for the meter to click and blah blah, "yeah, I have three nephews," "Oh? I have twenty-five, the oldest age, maybe thirty-four,"

    ZOMG, every week or every day I hope to make the sign of peace, but sometimes it is very difficult!

    Perhaps the soul has no age, or whatever. I do not believe in a soul or what-have-you, yet, I practice, but these encounters try my patience!

  11. #511
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    Oh, I suppose this is remarkable. So, I was about halfway through The Irishman, and I ran out of cigarettes.

    See, because it's a long movie, also, and whatever.

    Anyway, I shouldn't probably have been driving, but i did.

    So since i knew only one of the two automatic doors would be working past ten pm, I naturally knew where to park.

    I knew it was a county sherriff's SUV cruiser when I deftly slided next to it.

    I suspected there would be some State or County fellows inside the store. Naturally, right?

    I did NOT expect some caged hell-beast to start barking the second I parked up next to "it's" vehicle and walk to the entrance. Normally animals love me, if not vice versa.

    Of course, I ended up in line behind the county sheriff.

    It was chill, but it reminded me of that scene from Reservoir Dogs, in the bathroom. I was chill, but I think the cashier was more worried than me, like he was mortally frightened or something. I think he thought I was high on weed and would like have a Hunter S. Thompson-style, and probably was relieved when I just asked for some cigarettes and paid in cash and didn't shit my pants when I "noticed" (as in deliberately parked by them and stood behind them in line) the pigs were near.

    It was a funny moment, though.

    I had no reason to not have had my driving privileges revoked, but, well, whatever.

    I unwrapped my cigarettes while the cruiser was moved, turned over the engine, started up the tape deck to Mac's Desitively Bonnaroo, as usual. and proceeded down the highway with zero BAC and no THC.

    Coffee and cigarettes, baby. That and the man upstairs, what gets me high.

  12. #512
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    I did find it amusing just now while vomiting my concoction of whiskey, coffee, and milk into the toilet to notice how often one associates the phonemes "p^" and "m^" with certain biological functions.

    No, I'm not going to do the whole net-ological nerd-crap nor properly notate these sounds in IPA.

    You know damned well what I mean, and it isn't a paper of any sort.

    IIRC Jakobson (sp?) and more recently Reuven Tsur (sp?) as well as Jakobson's direct disciples did suppose a correspondance betweence meaning and utterance.

    Of course, we know of medical doctors who proposed more or less elaborate theories based on some kind of observation, one presumes.

    I simply say that there's probably both (i) some possibility that certain sounds are more appropriate at certain biologically-imperative cues than others and that (ii) it's entirely possible that entire civiizations have been built upon observations of such correspondences.

    And, that is my theory of Christianity, and actually, why I consider myself a Christian.

    QED.

    I might sound drunk, and probably, actually, I really probably could not walk a mile without falling over, but this is not a new thought to me. In fact, it is why I began observing the sacraments of the church after a very long time of abeyance since the age of reason (for me, say, age six? five? seven? i don't know).

    I should not say any more.

    I hope that my thoughts and their expression is not unpleasant to others, but this is what I wish to have said.

    No, I'm not joking. I'm going to try to finish this bottle of whiskey and see if I can have more cigarettes tomorrow before Sunday comes up and I should do mass and whatever which I can't because unclean.

  13. #513
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    And, no, after more than an hour's worth of sobriety, I confirm my findings.

    I think the myth of incarnation is probably somewhat of a side-effect to which we humans must endure. How is it that speech or utterance can resemble a gesture, or a grasp? It is, indeed, the whole of humanity, in nuce. So, while the Jews have a Golem, the Christians have a Christ, and so forth.

    It's a reasonable explanation, I've found.

  14. #514
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    And, how can I possibly, like my superior, Ludwig Wittgenstein, assist the Roman mass and each day of obligation?

    Well, I cannot. I cannot pronounce the Nicene Creed, nor honestly receive the host, so I do not. But I do observe, and with the best of my efforts.

  15. #515
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    All right, I'm sort of getting annoyed at this constant coming up to me at work by mere shift supervisors and my shift manager and them blowing smoke up my ass about "such good leadership," "won't you consider please?"

    Yeah, I get it, you people want some stooge to be a floor supervisor so you can keep the troops in line.

    I appreciate the heavy-handed flattery and glad-handing and all that, but it should be obvious (and is, to the dwindling members of my team) that if I wanted to do that, for no extra pay, and the same hours, I'd have been doing more to that end. I work hard because that's just how I can stay awake and not get bored jacking off. It should be equally obvious I don't give two shits about the rules, except staying barely on the right side of them, and also that I don't cotton to bossing my people around. We're a team, and that's it. I'll step up when needed, and help people out without being told once, but that's it. That's just being a good worker.

    //////////////

    Oh. You know, dammit, I think I almost like this bartender/server at this little microbrewery, except AFAIK she only works Sundays.

    Nothing special, just a pretty nice gal. Quiet, competent, and not a lot of sass. I think she might have terrible taste in music, though.

    Well, that was interesting.

    She does seem a bit frail: not petite, exactly. Probably medium height for a woman, but somewhat frail in bone structure.

    Well, I'm sure that after another few months of me seeing her once a week for about a half-an-hour, I might decide differently.

    I think she was impressed when, on driving out today after lunch, I hooked the tail end of my car on a wire rope and pulled down a few signs in the opposite construction yard.

    It's a way to get attention. I'll have to ask her about that sometime.

  16. #516
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    Gussetted crotch my ass. Fucking bitch ass punk bullshit jeans.

    Where's the motherfucking gussett, supposed to be so great? Yeah I need a hole in my crotch like I need an asshole on my elbow.

    Fucking punk bitches making clothes and shit.

    I think more than thirty or forty uses of a pair of jeans advertised as "for Johnny sixpack on the job" with "gussetted crotch" isn't unreasonable.

    Other than that, they're fine jeans, good dark color, the size is as advertised (36x34), has an extra pocket for .... I'm not sure what it's for. Something workman-like, like a slide rule (or even just a regular ruler or caliper) or some pencils and shit. I suppose a cell phone could fit in there, but I don't like carrying my phone around where it's liable to smash into things. Maybe a hard case for eyeglasses, but I find I need to wear my eyeglasses pretty much all the time to see what nonsense my coworkers are getting up to. Something like that. Pocket calculator. Whatever. Collapsible baton. Knife. Fake ATF badge. Oh, shit: it's for putting prescription sunglasses in a small hard case for when you don't know what the weather's going to be like! Winning!

    Bastard shitheads are losing, though, because of fucking crotch hole developing. Maybe I need a triple gussetted crotch, for those extra heavy days. Well, "pun" only sort of intended we'll see how far it spreads across the crotch.

    I'm preferring the darker jeans as canvas work pants tend to show the sweat around the groin, and it looks like I pissed myself, and I don't always wear a longer shirt to cover up the tainted area. Denim is more forgiving of my man-stains.

  17. #517
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    Oh, for fuck's sake.

    I hardly ever get suckered into these bullshit

    But, yes, so I'm going to buy beer from the grocery store.

    Fine, but plump, grocer, front-end supervisor is manning checkout.

    Yeah, so, she and the guy in front of me and the bagger are just, you know, just like my friendly neighborhood grocer.

    Fucking bitch, "Missy"! Sell that to the tourists!

    I should have got the joke immediately, viz, "That was our union president!" And so forth.

    Goddamned I am a fucking idiot.

    Still, Missy did a fine job. "Did you need smokes today? What'd you quit?"

    She would have made a fine job as a horse. "MIssy." Indeed. That is a horse's name.

    I admit I appreciate that she and the rest of the gals up front (except Jodi, she's awful) know what I smoke and what brand and kind.

    I admit, she snookered me on that one.

    Yeah, I get it, she and the bagger and the old dude in a suit were kind of ... well, it's kind of an inside joke about the previous customer.

    I should have got it, but I wasn't having my thinking cap on.

    Spoiler alert: he was absolutely not the president of any union whatsoever. He was just some guy and they were having a laugh.

  18. #518
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    Why?

    I just want to know why people drive like a horse's ass.

    A simple explanation would satisfy me. A reason. One I could believe that isn't completely ridiculous.

    All I got is: inexperienced and rash.

    I can't explain it any other way.

    I still need explaining why or how some fifty-plus year old "driver" is inexperienced at driving, but that's the best I can come up with.

  19. #519
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    I still want to know about the above post, but it occurred to me to relate a funny story from work yesterday.

    So, yeah, lots of new people, lots of people hired for the Xmas surge either dropped out or I don't know what.

    So anyways, I was just chucking carts around triple-staging stuff during a slow morning. The usual.

    This woman, younger woman, probably in her mid twenties, asked me an odd question, "So, you're Catholic, right?"

    I say, "Well, yeah, I try to attend mass. What gave you that idea?"

    "Well, I just remember, last year you had that [she mimes doing the smudge on the forehead from last Ash Wednesday]. If it's too personal, that's OK"

    Me: "Oh, well, sure. You know, it's just something I do."

    And it goes on for a few minutes, she's like "what church do you attend?" "St. Mary's right up the street."

    I'm not sure what her game was, but she seemed really interested in what I do, where I do it, and all that.

    I think she was a little disappointed that I admitted it's more of a practice and I'm not really a person who goes along through life being zealously trying to convert people. Maybe she was looking for that kind of thing and so forth, like some kind of example of "regular cool guy who does church shit."

    It was just remarkable that someone noticed that kind of thing: yeah, I make the sign of the cross sometimes when I'm frustrated, but I try not to do it in a way that signifies anything to others.

    OTOH, it is a precept of the Church that one is to help others to enter the fold. I just can't do that.

    SO, on the one hand, it was a very charming way of her to ask delicately about the Church, and I was very happy to talk with her and answer questions and so forth, but on the other hand, maybe I didn't act on the "between the lines" thing enough, and perhaps she could have benefitted from some friendly prosletyzation.

    But, honestly, I can't do that: I can just try to be friendly, which it was a friendly just conversation between two coworkers.

    I could have done more to make it seem like the Church wasn't some secret club where people chant Latin, and talk about Neo-Thomism (they don't: that's just how I do it, sotto voce).

    As I see it, it was a missed opportunity to help instruct a fellow person who was clearly curious and interested find someplace welcoming to her.

    But, I'm just not a missionary at heart. Not to mention my lack of faith, and not feeling able to receive the eucharist.

    And I suspect she might have felt a bit embarrassed at revealing a curious side of herself to me.

  20. #520
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    Oh, goddamned motherfuck.

    I have to either buy some new unbalanced "guitar" cables or else resolder some new TS jacks, preferably with right-angle connectors.

    Yeah, I have some extras, but it pisses me off to put more shit on my shopping list.

    Oh. about the girl above: yeah, it pretty much upsets me if I wasn't able to fulfill her needs.

    No, I don't need to fuck every girl I meet, and this wasn't about that. I'm just disappointed that I couldn't have been what she wanted. She really seemed interested in the Church, but, unfortunately, I wasn't up to being some charimsatic leader: all I can tell her is what I'd say to anybody. It's just my hobby and you're more than welcome to come by anytime. I don't think she dug what I had to tell her, and I really do think she was hoping I'd have been more of an "out and proud" soldier of Christ. Sorry, honey, that's just the way it is.

    I feel bad if she was wanting something more, like a coupon to a church picnic or whatever, but that's just not how it rolls.

    ETA But now I have an excuse to buy a proper soldering pencil and a stand: my regular soldering iron is ancient, and doesn't do so good for finer-detailed stuff. It's OK for doing a little guitar cable, but it's time to step up.
    Last edited by Jizzelbin; 13 Jan 2020 at 07:01 PM.

  21. #521
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    I'm sorry to keep going on about this, but I feel very bad about missing a chance to help somebody who seemed to crave something in her life.

    You'll have noticed that I'm not raving about her sexy body or whatever.

    No, not that I couldn't be interested in that aspect, but that can be for another time.

    I suppose that she was probably baptised as a Christian at some point, otherwise why would she have been all that interested in my own practice?

    All I can say what I could have suggested is that she practice the sacrament of reconciliation (often just called "confession"): I don't know if she was worried about saying the right words or whatever, but I probably didn't help by saying that I like to pray the rosary and the responses to mass in Latin. It's really not important, that, but it gets more difficult for me to put myself in the shoes of somebody in their twenties as I get older. I did mention that I don't always remember every line.

    The rest of the day I saw her again and she pretty much avoided talking to me or even making eye contact.

    For once it wasn't because I made an unwanted advance, or so forth. Probably, I don't know.

    Probably in her eyes I'm just "Catholic guy" but "not good Christian," because of me not witnessing or prosletyzing and admitting I'm not a real Christian, just some "practicing" Catholic.

    Which is fine.

    But, she asked me all those questions, and I answered in as friendly a way as I could.

    And, yes, supposing she sees me this year again on Ash Wednesday, I will probably have some visible sign on my forehead. That's not exclusive to Christians, and especially not Catholics, of whatever rite.

  22. #522
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    Quote Originally posted by Jizzelbin View post
    Holy shit.

    I just interacted with one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen in my life, ever. She was a contractor-driver who was having some problems with her phone. Alas, I could not help her, but I did try, you know tried in vain to get someone on the radio who could just do what I asked.
    This was bad.

    It was a ... I think the day before yesterday or something.

    I think she came back.

    I had my eyeglasses on, and I was in charge of her ... "area" ... er...."zone".....never mind.

    It was really bad.

    Like, cartoon wolf with its tongue dragging along the floor.

    I controlled myself, and reasoned with myself that th.........

    never mind.

    There was no reasoning in "myself." I just recalled that it's probably not good to be obviously distracted by a nice-looking broad, so I kept it clean.

    Quote Originally posted by Jizzelbin
    You know, she just looks nice and doesn't seem dumb.
    Actually, about this woman, it is true. She happens to be hearing impaired, as it happens, and she does indeed work the shift after me, doing similar things. Obviously we haven't had long conversations, but she is probably aware that I have an expressive face, when it suits me, and also make deliberate hand gestures when appropriate.

    I wonder how that would work, you know, "romantically." I think pretty well: it would be sort of "opposites attract" kind of thing: I respond almost only to auditory cues, but am very expressive with my hands and eyes, and she would perhaps be about the opposite of that.

    Well, that little thought experiment needs some more thinking, but at least I know her a bit more and vice versa, so we're not on "first name," but more like "hey, hearty nod-of-the-head!" Or whatever.

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