Landing page for any Introvert-related materials that will or might be posted.
- Introvert’s vs Extrovert’s
- 16 Things You Need To Know Before You Date An Introvert
- 10 Ways Introverts Interact Differently With The World
Landing page for any Introvert-related materials that will or might be posted.
ailithnight: A properly raised and socialized Dad will be perfectly comfortable cohabiting with Lesbians. Its not really “encroaching on another’s territory”. You wouldn’t say that about foxes in a forest that also homes bobcats, would you? No. It’s just two different species that have both evolved to live in similar/the same environment. As long as they recognize each other as equals, Dads and Lesbians are more than capable of cohabitation.
Now, if you were to release a pack of Lumberjacks into a Lowes or Home Depot, that’s where chaos will reign. Being adapted to a far harsher and more demanding environment, the Lumberjacks would simply push Dads and Lesbians both out and also consume far more than a sustainable amount of resources. It would be like releasing bears at a country club.
chequerootlurks: As a former timber-harvester… I feel this is potentially accurate in theory. But highly improbable in actuality.
Lumberjacks, like most megafauna species generally require more space than the average hardware store, even a big box store could provide. The misconception is that Lumberjacks are a social species because of how they often work and live together.
This is a matter of necessity, not preference, and a survival technique for thriving under the LogBoss.
A “pack” of Lumberjacks, if not under the environmental pressure of a LogBoss will naturally disperse until they each have a wide territory.
Lumberjacks rarely fight for territory.
One on one, a Lumberjack could drive out a Dad or Lesbian, however the latter tend to travel in social packs.
Lumberjacks will passively retreat on the presence of large numbers of people. Kind of like Sasquatch.
Getting a “pack” of Lumberjacks assembled would be hard enough unless they were forced into a Hardware Store by a LogBoss. In that case, they would already be in a heightened and potentially agitated state far above their natural behavior. This artificial scenario can be likened to a circus animal running amok. If it had been in the wild, the incident would not have occurred.
Free-roaming Lumberjacks are the cryptids of the Hardware ecosystem. They are surprisingly quiet and unobtrusive.
Please stop labeling Lumberjacks as dangerous roving social predators. They are intermediate level omnivores and remarkably peaceful unless threatened.
Image credits: kittenwiskers
I stare at the file and realize I have no options, over the last 2 years every monster assigned to Charlotte Dower has quit, every last one. Her first monster; a giant goldfish-faced humanoid named Bubba, had been with her for four years, and then she wasn’t scared of him anymore. After that it was a string of different common, uncommon, and rare monsters… I even assigned a sentient sock monster to her. He came back crying!
I look on my tablet, only one assignable monster left; myself. Field work has never been my cup of tea, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So at 8:03 pm, after Mrs. Gideon tucks in Charlotte and her little brother Daniel; I slither into the space beneath Charlotte’s bed.
Across the room underneath Daniel’s crib is a rookie, Chico, a standard Creep kind of monster.
I turn my attention to the bed above me, Charlotte is still awake but barely, I reach up over the bed and run an ice cold finger over her cheek, silence, so I do it again.
“I’m not afraid of you monster!” She whispers, but her voice is shaking. I can see a small clock on the wall 8:14, a door somewhere in the house slams and there is an audible hitch of breath from above me. A few minutes go by I can hear Francis Gideon yelling at his wife. There are heavy footsteps on the stairs, and loud panting breaths, Charlotte scrambles off the bed and…
She. CRAWLS. Under. The. Bed. With. Me.
“Move. Over!” Charlotte hisses at me. I do.
The door to the bedroom slams open and I smell the stench of human intoxicants before the man even steps inside. I know why Charlotte isn’t afraid of any of my monsters; she’s afraid of her own. Francis reaches a hand under the bed and I thrust my wrist into it, he starts to pull, I slither out.
“What the…” I cut Francis’s next words off by unfolding to my full 12 foot height. Looming over the drunken man I caress my cold fingers down his face.
“If you ever touch, scare, or harm my child again, I will find you, and I will do the same to you, for all eternity.” I promise to him.
As Francis runs from the room he soils himself.
I pull Charlotte from under the bed, tuck her back under her covers and kiss her forehead goodnight. “I’ll be back tomorrow night, sleep well darling.”
Charlotte Dower is my child, I am the monster under her bed.
— The Story, Illustrated —
Image credits: JWITLESS ART
“Into the darkness I go, to loose my mind, and find myself again.”
A Digital Bill of Rights would be important, but this is not the way to do it. There is a lot of loose language here and that’s room to wiggle. Room to wiggle for a lawmaker is a means to introduce legislation that isn’t so good. Especially when it comes to an elected official that has a history of only voting his party. Shows that he’s not interested in voting what his constituents want, but is more interested in touting the party line and nothing else.
Source: Republican Congress Representative Darrell Issa, , (Original Source (here) does not work any more).
“The loneliest people are the kindest. The saddest people smile the brightest. The most damaged people are the wisest. All because they do not wish to see anyone else suffer the way they do.” — Anonymous
“…to the last I grapple with thee; from hell’s heart I stab at thee; for hate’s sake I spit my last breath at thee. “
—Moby Dick, Chapter 135. “The Chase.—Third Day”
“We sleep safe in our beds because rough men stand ready in the night to visit violence on those who would do us harm.” — George Orwell
These are from “If Life Is a Game, These Are the Rules: Ten Rules for Being Human as Introduced in Chicken Soup for the Soul” by Cherie Carter-Scott. Amazon.
Original story was not EFL speaker, edited to flow in English. “Me” is not actually me, just reproducing the conversation. Deleted emojis, they did not copy well.
Nacodoches parents are funny as fuck. This man and his daughter were at Walmart and we are all standing in line. It’s them, this lady and then it’s me. So the little girl is like 5 or 6. So she’s asking a lot of questions. So she asked her daddy something and he was like….
Dad: Now why would you ask a question like that? If she asked you why you fat, then you would be mad. Worry about you, not her.
Lady in front of me: You know, you really shouldn’t be talking to your child like that. That’s mental child abuse!
Me: 😑😒 awe here this mfer go..
Man: Who you talking to?
Lady: You! You shouldn’t be calling your child fat! That is child abuse!
Man: Don’t come at me sideways ma’am, you don’t know me like that. And if you must know, I’m teaching my child not to ask rude and offensive questions. Any time she asks a rude question, I ask her one about herself. So like I told her. Worry about you, not her.
Lady: That’s mental and emotional abuse.
Man: You know what, baby girl, ask this lady what you asked me.. go ahead. You wont be in trouble this time.
Little girl: Ma’am, why do you stink like that? You don’t take baths?
Lady: That’s not a very nice thing to ask someone. It could really hurt someone’s feelings.
Man: See, when she asked me this question, she was talking about you. And you wanna come talking about abuse but I was trying to save you from getting your feelings hurt. Now look at you; sad and stinky.
Me: OMG I CANT BREATHE!!! I DONE DROPPED MY DAMN RED BULL!