In my deepest crevice of southern Illinois hometown/county, deer literally outnumbered people. And the fuckers knew it.

In 7 years of nursing, I’ve dealt with gangrenous wounds that smelled like death, the aftermath of a point blank shotgun shot, myriad oozy-nasties from every imaginable orifice, etc, but the one and only time I witnessed a 3rd degree perineal tear being sutured?

Along with wiring up my side yard.

I’ll never not imagine MC Peepants every time I hear Nicki Minaj’s “Superbass.”

That you’re probably a nurse?

Fancy coffee is how you say martini in Baptist.

I believe that sentence falls under the “them’s fightin’ words” assault charge loophole.

This just made me seriously nostalgic. I used to live in Big Spring, and- despite it being a shithole - thinking about the smell of mesquite smoke brought back all kinds of good memories.

AA 587 was the incident involving wake turbulence, correct? If it’s the one I’m thinking of, the pilot flying had been conditioned to react with the vigorous rudder snapping by simulator training, which dampened any control inputs for something like 90 seconds. This, plus the simulation of an upset that was far beyond…

I had to explain this particular tool to my co-workers the other day. One of my inmate patients was being absolutely rapey and disgusting. I’m used to it for the most part, but he was so over the top that it was upsetting. In retelling what he said/did back in the office, I made a statement like “God, where’s a calf…

I’m sorry you had to sit next to my Dad on that plane. Wonderful man, but he is absolutely shameless when it comes to chew-spit. *shudder*

This. So much this. I’m a huge fan of the “It Takes A Village” school of parenting, but the concept doesn’t work if the village isn’t allowed any input other than outright fawning over your adorable little snookums.

That’s true, but they are considered basically self-sufficient and don’t receive benefits that tax payers do, e.g. SSI, Medicare, etc.

Ross is both the best and worst, depending on the location. The one in Midland, Tx was my go-to for shoes, purses, etc, but the one in my current town is a nightmare of ugly dresses, misshapen baby clothes, and one pair of shoes in my size that are inevitably hideous.

My first instinct would have been to reply “Depends on the human. Depends on the goat”, because I’m a bit of an asshole and have been conditioned to rely hard on shock value in weird situations.

God’s Own Multi-Tool

I pretty much dissected my Teddy Ruxpin as a young’un, so his creepy blinking eyeballs didn’t have eyelids and most of the fur was gone from his face... My mom was totally creeped out, but I loved the stupid thing so he stayed until I finally tore him up completely and he was humanely destroyed.

While I’m not a vet— just a nurse and the grown-ass child of a farmer— in my experience, all of our vets have had great bedside manner.

I’ve spoken to many addicts who’ve told me that they made the jump to shooting up based on the economy of using that way. If you have a $100/day habit snorting heroin, you can stretch that supply by several days by shooting it; IV anything is more bioavailable/potent, so it’s the same high with less drug.

Yep. Plus there’s the phenomena of opioid-induced hyperalgesia that causes the pain to feel more intense than it used to, which can further fuel the urge to take more; it’s a shitty paradox.