Fox fart is a compliment in comparison to my nickname when I was in fifth grade. Why do people give us horrible nicknames when we are young? Is it a sign of their endearment? Would you be willing to explore this topic in a future posting? Curious minds want to know.
I got mine because I was the quintessential whiny "why is nothing ever fair?" "what about my rights?" "I can't wait 'till I'm eighteen so I can get outa here" "nobody here understands me" teenager. My poor Mom. I was insufferable, a total "Butt".
I was called “Beastie”, my last name is Beste. Why are bullies the quasi-essential ingredient of school-day memories? They seemed to follow me from elementary school to high school. It made going to school a drudge. It all changed in college.
I’ve been told that it is the testosterone that led to all the aggression and bullying. Even decades after I still can’t understand all the violence and anger I experienced in my early school days. Today it’s evolved into homicides and shootings. It was to end.
My granddaughter is 8.. She is stunningly beautiful, and in second grade... To keep the 4th, 5th and 6th grade boys at bay.... she has developed a retinue of "fart wisdom" : fart jokes, fake farts, fart stories, and so on... Now, I will tell her to develop a good, but 'off-putting". "Nom de Gas"
Enjoying your Serenity book on Audible. On the subject of methane (or as the British bravely say, ME-thane), I prefer to be called an Elder Fartsman. That way, I can't be mistaken for just another old fart in a windbreaker.
He has a point about peaking too soon: apparently winning an Oscar too soon can be a bad thing. Rita Moreno won hers for the first version of "West Side Story" and, apparently, didn't work (much) for years thereafter.
GK: Good start! But life changes and so must our philosophy, just as time goes by. Check out the verse of that fine ballad from the movie “Casablanca.” A kiss is still a kiss, but as we age a sigh covers a lot more. Best wishes for changes to make for a better year. TK
I love that line "I believe in Life Getting Better!" As someone who is infinitely conscious of it myself, as a human being of the female variety, it seems to me that we, "the Beneficiaries" of positive social change, should "Take some and Pass It ON!. Of course, it's a "No Brainer" to "PASS IT ON" to obviously marginalized groups - those of marginalized racial, ethnic, religious and other "minority" groups. However, it seems to me there's another group those of us who mostly are reading these pages - the "Literate", the "Educated", and most of all. the "Financially Secure!"
The choice of my moniker, "Wandering [Sue]" reflects my hankering to "Go On Every Back Road" - wherever and whenever I have the time to. I pick up a lot of hitchhikers there, and one thing I become more and more aware of, is the Prevalence of Poverty in rural America. That, and lots of folks never dare to get off the main roads in large cities - they could surely get eyes full of American Poverty in the "Ghetto Areas, too!
As someone who has been on every single road in Los Angeles County, for example , I can assure those who have the guts to do it, that driving through impoverished areas isn't nearly as scary as "Common Sense Advise" would tell you! I've been threatened, exactly once, out in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest, by an "Uncle" from Hawaii. Sitting beside me, he casually advised me that the Nephew sitting behind me had a switchblade knife, "and He Knows How to Use It." There was a "Mack the Knife" sort on the rampage just then, and I shivered in my boots whole I told story after story of all the hitchhikers I had picked up over the years. Finally, we came to a spot where one could follow a dirt path down to the ocean beach. "This will do," my tormentor said. What a sign of relief I gave just then! I didn't pick up another hitchhiker until I got to the next big town!
If you ask me, you miss out on a significant segment of "America" if you avoid "The Poor, The Tired, The Restless Yearning to Breathe Free!" Just half an hour ago, I was telling our Onondaga Native Indian librarian about a Din`e {we call them Navajos] hitchhiker whom I stopped for at the poiint where a dirt road headed into the boonies. "How Far?" I asked him as he settled in. "Fa." he replied. After that, his side of the conversation lapsed into sign language. He cupped his right hand to indicate some sort of landmark, I had no idea what. We drove along in a silence which was unusual to me. Many of the Dine I had previously helped along their roads had lived and worked in Los Angeles, in road-building or gardening trades especially. Mostly, they were just back to spend some time with their elders. Yet, until I drove under a Navajo bridge (they're curved on the underside so that the sheep won't see something that looks like a cliff and spooks them into a stampede) I had no idea where we were going. This young shepherd boy held up his palm in front of me in a "Halt" sign, and out he went - to his small hogan, with a log-fenced corral for sheep next to it. I think he said something like "Thanks!" in Dine. Talk about isolated Americans! YES!
Anyway, the moral of this tale is, if you never get out of your "comfort zone, you might miss a lot of valuable experiences along the way!
I assume he meant solipsisms in the sense of self-centeredness, i.e. the imagined mystic's whisperings are just a bunch of self-interested nonsense. Or something like that! EDIT: Well, that was my brilliant take on it. GK has now explained that "solipsisms" sounds like a good word for a mystic to whisper. A mystic named Sister Melissa who uses crystals and whispers "solipsisms." 😂
Fox fart is a compliment in comparison to my nickname when I was in fifth grade. Why do people give us horrible nicknames when we are young? Is it a sign of their endearment? Would you be willing to explore this topic in a future posting? Curious minds want to know.
Because most of us are horrible when we are young. When I was 13 my older brother christened me "Butt". Looking back, I earned it.
I was given the undeserved “Slopbucket.“ Mike Schmitt and David Tinsley crafted the nickname out of thin air.
I got mine because I was the quintessential whiny "why is nothing ever fair?" "what about my rights?" "I can't wait 'till I'm eighteen so I can get outa here" "nobody here understands me" teenager. My poor Mom. I was insufferable, a total "Butt".
Amen 🙏
I was called “Beastie”, my last name is Beste. Why are bullies the quasi-essential ingredient of school-day memories? They seemed to follow me from elementary school to high school. It made going to school a drudge. It all changed in college.
I’ve been told that it is the testosterone that led to all the aggression and bullying. Even decades after I still can’t understand all the violence and anger I experienced in my early school days. Today it’s evolved into homicides and shootings. It was to end.
I'm glad you are happy. I'm in favor of happiness.
Hmm, where did they get the Fox part in Fox fart?
How about Wormy, a Southern nickname for people who are skinny—presumably because of intestinal parasites?
I agree with Marjorie. I'm glad we're all happy now.
You would leave us with "Foxfart" just hanging in the air.
I once dreamed that my dog named Beezus was lead singer in a rock band. The best part was the band's name: Beezus and the Bones.
😂😂😂😂❤️
Three words: try a bath. Just kidding. Glad you got your shower problem favorably resolved.
My granddaughter is 8.. She is stunningly beautiful, and in second grade... To keep the 4th, 5th and 6th grade boys at bay.... she has developed a retinue of "fart wisdom" : fart jokes, fake farts, fart stories, and so on... Now, I will tell her to develop a good, but 'off-putting". "Nom de Gas"
"Toot Toot" Tootsie? ??
jb. in SF
Enjoying your Serenity book on Audible. On the subject of methane (or as the British bravely say, ME-thane), I prefer to be called an Elder Fartsman. That way, I can't be mistaken for just another old fart in a windbreaker.
He has a point about peaking too soon: apparently winning an Oscar too soon can be a bad thing. Rita Moreno won hers for the first version of "West Side Story" and, apparently, didn't work (much) for years thereafter.
Were they solid dog jokes?
Michael Mohr
‘Sincere American Writing’
https://michaelmohr.substack.com/
GK: Good start! But life changes and so must our philosophy, just as time goes by. Check out the verse of that fine ballad from the movie “Casablanca.” A kiss is still a kiss, but as we age a sigh covers a lot more. Best wishes for changes to make for a better year. TK
I love that line "I believe in Life Getting Better!" As someone who is infinitely conscious of it myself, as a human being of the female variety, it seems to me that we, "the Beneficiaries" of positive social change, should "Take some and Pass It ON!. Of course, it's a "No Brainer" to "PASS IT ON" to obviously marginalized groups - those of marginalized racial, ethnic, religious and other "minority" groups. However, it seems to me there's another group those of us who mostly are reading these pages - the "Literate", the "Educated", and most of all. the "Financially Secure!"
The choice of my moniker, "Wandering [Sue]" reflects my hankering to "Go On Every Back Road" - wherever and whenever I have the time to. I pick up a lot of hitchhikers there, and one thing I become more and more aware of, is the Prevalence of Poverty in rural America. That, and lots of folks never dare to get off the main roads in large cities - they could surely get eyes full of American Poverty in the "Ghetto Areas, too!
As someone who has been on every single road in Los Angeles County, for example , I can assure those who have the guts to do it, that driving through impoverished areas isn't nearly as scary as "Common Sense Advise" would tell you! I've been threatened, exactly once, out in the wilds of the Pacific Northwest, by an "Uncle" from Hawaii. Sitting beside me, he casually advised me that the Nephew sitting behind me had a switchblade knife, "and He Knows How to Use It." There was a "Mack the Knife" sort on the rampage just then, and I shivered in my boots whole I told story after story of all the hitchhikers I had picked up over the years. Finally, we came to a spot where one could follow a dirt path down to the ocean beach. "This will do," my tormentor said. What a sign of relief I gave just then! I didn't pick up another hitchhiker until I got to the next big town!
If you ask me, you miss out on a significant segment of "America" if you avoid "The Poor, The Tired, The Restless Yearning to Breathe Free!" Just half an hour ago, I was telling our Onondaga Native Indian librarian about a Din`e {we call them Navajos] hitchhiker whom I stopped for at the poiint where a dirt road headed into the boonies. "How Far?" I asked him as he settled in. "Fa." he replied. After that, his side of the conversation lapsed into sign language. He cupped his right hand to indicate some sort of landmark, I had no idea what. We drove along in a silence which was unusual to me. Many of the Dine I had previously helped along their roads had lived and worked in Los Angeles, in road-building or gardening trades especially. Mostly, they were just back to spend some time with their elders. Yet, until I drove under a Navajo bridge (they're curved on the underside so that the sheep won't see something that looks like a cliff and spooks them into a stampede) I had no idea where we were going. This young shepherd boy held up his palm in front of me in a "Halt" sign, and out he went - to his small hogan, with a log-fenced corral for sheep next to it. I think he said something like "Thanks!" in Dine. Talk about isolated Americans! YES!
Anyway, the moral of this tale is, if you never get out of your "comfort zone, you might miss a lot of valuable experiences along the way!
"...a mystic named Sister Melissa who uses crystals and whispers solipsisms..."
Garrison, I looked up solipsisms but I still don't know what you meant. Please tell me.
I don't want to miss out on a morsel.
Thank you.
I assume he meant solipsisms in the sense of self-centeredness, i.e. the imagined mystic's whisperings are just a bunch of self-interested nonsense. Or something like that! EDIT: Well, that was my brilliant take on it. GK has now explained that "solipsisms" sounds like a good word for a mystic to whisper. A mystic named Sister Melissa who uses crystals and whispers "solipsisms." 😂