Eight thousand nine hundred forty-four miles.

The American attitude towards the Royal Family reminds me of the British attitude towards Eurovision. And just as Americans do not remotely understand the kitschy appeal (and deep political intrigue!) of Eurovision, Brits are completely stymied by the American fetishization of what is essentially a human zoo exhibit.

they write her to be a blubbering “don’t leave me” mess (trope of a female who’s man’s leaving her high and dry), rather than giving her SOMETHING to say that’s a strong comeback.

Bizarrely, Barr might actually believe all the deep-state bullshit Fox has been spewing for a decade. Disturbingly, he may think he’s actually fighting the good fight. 

Mueller isn’t going to do anything to him NOW. What he made entirely clear is that once Trump’s not president anymore, Mueller’s evidence should set up a future admin/justice dept to indict him.

Oh, and if it wasn’t obvious before, Jaime is DEFINITELY going to King’s Landing to kill Cersei. 

Did anyone else think Brienne’s getting weepy for Jamie before he leaves felt like they diminished her character?

Also

To my mom’s horror, my dad taught me and my siblings how to exhale and sink to the bottom of the pool (oddly, my lifeguarding instructor taught us the same thing more extensively a decade later). It made the waterline a much less binary proposition: I know what it feels like to be running out of air, I know how much…

My favorite “real” saves from a country club:

Different reactions, I guess. I wouldn’t see the storyteller’s family and another person as interchangeable, emotionally. I get why the OP would view his family’s welfare as the important part of the story.

Oh god, I would never even have found Bronson’s thumbs, too much muscle and arm hair. Nope, our guy told us to find his elbows, let out all of our breath and push upward hard so you go shooting down - they’re trying to get above you so there’s not usually any resistance, the lock is from above. He also taught us to go…

A marine vet in one of my classes taught us how to essentially sink to the bottom, then grab standing people by the ankles and corkscrew them while dragging them underwater. He was lightning-quick, he did it to me a lot.

Poorly, most likely.

Thanks. He was truly one of the sweetest men I’d ever met, and it was a total freak incident (don’t know if it was a cramp or a cardiac event or what, obviously), and his kid was inches away from him when he sank. He pushed his kid away from him. Knowing how people react when they realize they’re going under, he…

Good luck with the rescue diving! And yes, you do not forget that feeling of panic. One part of you is thinking “this is a drill, he’d stop before I actually died...” but your lizard brain is going insane because you can’t really talk yourself out of the conviction that another human is about to kill you.

the images of clutching pearls and fainting couches are so clearly drawn from stereotypes about women that I am surprised I have to point it out. Using gendered language when dismissing another’s point of view as ridiculous and worthy of derision is, I think we can agree, problematic.

We had the dock test too. Same test. It was a great “put up or shut up” tool.

I’m glad that stories about death by drowning don’t bother you. They may bother other people.

On a related note: NEVER COME INTO SHORE TO ‘JUST DROP MY FRIEND OFF’ AT A PUBLIC BEACH!