Incredibly problematic.

It’s a promise.

Doctor told me to Stop mastrubating.

He wants to examine me.

My wife and I each put 80% of our money into an account, that pays all the bills, any fun we have together, paying extra on debts, and putting into savings. The other 20% we each get to ourselves to do whatever with...she usually spends hers and I usually save mine :)

An immortal toddler. The future is bright.

Do you have a clogged nose or problems keeping the mouth shut? In case of the latter, I just use medical tape.

Aliens "whats ligma" Nasa "gottem"

Because it feels so disjointed. The random cloning episode felt like they wanted to be Andor so much.

Grogu needs to go or be a strong force user. This weird inbetween isn’t working anymore.

I agree America sucks compared to many others with infrastructure. Just on my lunch break earlier my friend that lives in Columbus and I were imaging if there was a high speed train from Pittsburgh to Columbus (where he lives) we would see each other so much more often instead we have to make the 3 drive every few months.

See, the thing is… you just activated my trap card! I was already far gone into the furry world.

Very helpful thanks

This is different. The curve is exponential, exponentially getting harder. It's easier to make a computer than make a computer that works on it's own.

I remember the news of mitch hedberg passing got released on april fools day by his girlfriend.

I'm not looking forward to any new Star Trek or Star Wars movies. IHMO, most of the streaming shows from both franchises are hit or miss...

Yep. Focus on the family lobbied by “The Family”

queen 💪💪💪💪👑👑👑

That's just Hartford, the drivers there are crazy. I remember entering Hartford on New Britain Ave and everyone started driving like a maniac.

1. Donald Trump is no longer president. There are a ton of potential legal issues with charging a sitting US president with a crime. It opens up a can of legal worms, basically.
2. This is a state case. This can't be pardoned away in the future. Pardons can only happen on the federal level. Nixon got pardoned by Ford, which is some BS IMO, but it happened.
3. There was enough evidence to produce an indictment. That's already a big deal. Its just not some hearsay or circumstantial evidence.
4. Anybody going after a former president is going to face significant backlash. They're not just doing it casually. If the evidence isn't airtight, careers might be ruined.

Dream Fishing

"Da, I got one!"

Bannibrandt braced his leg on the pier as his fishing pole arced toward the surface of the shimmering dream water. Deep down, a cloudy shadow pulled away from him with increasing strength.

“Two hands, boy, or you’ll lose it.”

Horst popped an almond in his mouth and secured his own fishing rod—making sure to leave the line cast in case of another bite—and hobbled to where his son struggled with his own.

“Be the shadow, Ban. Feel the hook in your mouth, the panic overwhelming you.”

“I’m trying!” Red-faced Bannibrandt cranked the reel. His rod bent lower and lower until it dipped into the drink.

“Don’t reel when it’s pulling away from you. You’ve got to tire him out. Tug-o-war, just like I taught you. Reel when he’s too tired to fight.”

With a zing! the line took off as Bannibrandt lost his grip on the crank.

“Oh no!”

The handle spun so fast it was impossible to catch hold again. Until it the line ran out and it stopped. For a split second, Bannibrandt pulled the rod.

SNAP!

The boy stumbled backwards, and, catching his heel on an uneven board, fell into the waves.

The old fisherman hid a smile as he pulled his son out by the collar. Shimmering liquid dripped from the drenched boy, puddling on the timbers around his bare feet.

“Aw, I broke your fishing pole.” Bannibrandt stared at the pieces of rod that floated where he had fallen.

“It’ll be alright,” Horst said. “The important thing is to build more. You’ll always have a backup, if you do.”

He wrapped a towel around his son’s shoulders and hugged him to his side.

“Whose dream did you fall into?” he asked.

“Some girl’s. She was kissing a frog. It was gross.”

“Ha! Even so, no nightmares?”

“It was almost blinding in there, it was so bright.”

Horst slipped another almond between his lips. “Hmm. No accismus then. Good.”

The boy’s eyebrows went sky-high. “Ax what?”

“Accismus. It’s when the humans aren’t genuine. Out of fear, or greed, or cunning manipulation. It’s one of the reasons the shadows exist.”

The click of Horst’s fishing reel caught their attention. The line moved in circles through the water, making the rod twitch as the circles got bigger.

“Looks like we got another one. Quick, get the cage!” Horst attended the pole while Bannibrandt opened a mesh box and set it beside his father.

The old fisherman set the hook and fought the shadow with ease and patience, his experienced hand a stark contrast to his son’s. Before long, he reeled in the shadow and scooped it up with a net.

Horst dumped the cloudy shadow, writhing and shrieking, into the cage. It lashed out with a cloudy arm as Bannibrandt closed the top.

“Whew, that was close,” Bannibrandt said, backing away.

“Great job, Ban. We’ll make a proper dream fisher out of you yet!”

Bannibrandt knelt to get a closer view of the shadow. It had shrunk, and now looked like a dollop of tar, huddled there in a corner of the cage. Smelled like it, too. But it purred like a kitten.

“Not so scary out here, is it?” Horst asked. He chewed on another almond.

“Won’t they die outside the dreams?”

“No, most of them are docile out here. They gain their power from the people they feed on. When seen for what they really are, well, see?”

Bannibrandt pet the shadow with his finger. It reacted to his touch and snuggled against him. There was a flash inside the shadow, and a small image played.

Bannibrandt watched the scene unfold: a teenage boy stood on the stoop of an old house, a dozen red roses in hand. He offered them to a beautiful girl, who threw them on the floor and stomped on them. The boy trudged away, head hanging low. Then, the girl called out to him, ran after him. But she could never catch up. The scene changed: an old woman in a rocker, holding the portait of a young man. There was no ring on her finger; there never was.

The image faded.

Bannibrandt stood. “When we catch these little guys, the humans go back to regular dreams, right, Da? The girl who dreamt this will sleep better now?”

Horst had stepped away from the cage and gazed into the sunset. A dark cloud gathered and moved toward the pier.

“Bad weather’s coming, isn’t it?”

“There is no bad weather. Only bad clothing.” Horst winked.

“What?”

“Something my granddad used to say. Grab your rain jacket out in the shed. The quicker you catch you your first shadow, the quicker you can have some of grandma’s Kvæfjordkake.”

Bannibrandt grinned. “Those shadows are doomed!”

[removed]

I can hear slayer

Thick wool socks

sweetened

That's going to be no good soon.

Surely someone who often posts to r/InformedTankie is not a Tankie