I have been informed by a reputable source that the Stars Are Blind, anyway.

I believe the technical term for that is “meat snot”, aka rendered collagen. It is a harbinger of impending deliciousness.

When my brother and I both lived at home, my parents had a separate fridge for milk (and beer; country folk FTW!) because we’d shred a gallon in 2 days. So, because “going to town” was a 30 minute drive and that shit wasn’t happening more than once a week, they’d buy like, 4 gallons at a time. We’d still run out…

I fully believe that that shit is pathological. Like, c’mon DSM V, where is that diagnosis code?

I love language in general, but particularly the quirks in translation. I remember when I was working in a facility where the majority of our patients spoke Spanish. A fair number knew English or were trying to learn, so they would ask questions about meds, etc in English when they could. There was always confusion…

Yeppers. If I hadn’t turned breech a week before my due date and necessitated a c-section for my very tiny, poorly-equipped for a breech delivery mom, the complete placenta previa she didn’t know she had (no ultrasounds in the 80s for poor/low risk moms) would’ve probably killed her/me.

This is mine, because I’m bad at being fancy. Its full time gig is being my horse grooming tool carrier, but on the rare occasion that I fly, the horse junk gets dumped and becomes a human junk tote.

She really is kind of a badass. I love the story about her driving people in jeeps during WWII and subsequently terrifying a Saudi dignitary who was appalled by a woman (A queen, no less) doing so at a high rate of died.

Totally not creepy. I’m the same. I think you’re right about the self awareness. You can explain things to a human in pain, and they can intrinsically understand the reason they’re hurting. Animals don’t have the benefit of logic, and I feel like they don’t necessarily understand that the pain of, say, trimming an…

Hahaha awesome! At a previous job, our log ins were first initial, first 3 letters of your last name.
I always loved logging in after “Meth”, lol.

Ugh, I know, right? I feel like I would maybe be more ok with my future hypothetical children* roaming around than I currently am about my kitteh. She’s 16, arthritic af, and lacks the good sense to be afraid of things that could have her as a snack (e.g. Raccoons, the monster owl that lives in our backyard, et al.)

My grampa was the same. He was a tank mechanic who was at Omaha beach and the Battle of the Bulge, where he got the Bronze Star for staying behind to blow up his equipment to keep the Nazis from taking it when the Allies fell back.

I agree with your sentiment, but I feel like racist assholes like that (I’m picturing buttoned-up, Fox News watching middle aged white folks, here, but feel free to insert whomever) generally skew passive-aggressive and are scared of rap music (read: Black people), so would probably just call the cops/tell the super.

I gave my cat the name I plan on giving any hypothetical girl children, so I stand firmly beside you on reasonable island. :-)

Dash is adorable! I lurve grey stripey kittehs :)

My Lucycat was similarly declawed by her former humans. She has also decided lately that she wants to Be Outside NOW PLZ, MOM!

Ugh. Seatback like / = sleeping. Seatback like | = bouncing like an idiot. Pick one or the other, lady.

I feel like “What a coincidence! I’m a puncher! Hope you enjoy face massages!” would’ve been a good response.*

God, yes! I call it my “big eyes, little mouth” face and, while I don’t have kids, I deploy it on the regular at the dog, who will sometimes ignore me until I take off my sunglasses. He knows that that face= Snuggly Human is Seriously Serious now.

This (in addition to obviously being pizza’s answer to the KFC Double Down) looks super complicated. I’m trying to imagine the witchcraft necessary to make this do-able for a high volume/low quality chain “kitchen”, but my brain is straight up refusing to process.