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I completely hate you in a marginally civil way. I watched the fucking line form outside of my store, and when I clocked out, there was one more person in line than we had units. Now i'm going to have to find some other easy money. cavete terrae.

That's a loose usage of the word "car", considering what rolls out of there. cavete terrae.

Blues, Dave Ouch cavete terrae.

Wrote this for another forum, but figure I'd toss it in the speaker's corner as well.. anyway: Today's children are pussies. Anyone who disputes this is wrong, and I'm going to tell you why I'm right, how we got here, and how to fix it. Before we get to the "now", we need to start with "then". I was born in the year 1981, in California. When I played as a kid, we played outside. We climbed trees and jumped out of them. We used swingsets built in woodchips that'd give you slivers if you fell, and we played on monkey bars over concrete. When you see Billy fall off and break his arm, that'll give you an incentive not to fuck up. We walked to school, even though it was a couple of miles, because when you're a kid, a couple of miles is pretty much next door. Once you're at school, recess was war, and if nobody bled, everybody lost. We had tugs of war (sure as hell not a TUG OF PEACE), and the ultimate reward was to watch the enemy (not other. ENEMY.) team fall on their faces and shed tears of failure. We played Red Rover, and god dammit, you hit that line like an old man driving into a farmer's market, or every other kid would know you were sandbagging and you'd be ridiculed. We played a game called Smear The Queer, where whoever was "it" was to be tackled by everyone else, and you know what? Being "it" was fun because you got to attempt to outrun and outsmart the unwashed masses. It was a physically rough activity, and frankly we expected it to be, and anything less would be pointless. We played dodgeball, and I mean real dodgeball. There were no little foam balls that have a terminal velocity of about 4mph and could be caught by a half-blind one armed leper from Calcutta. No, we had rubber balls that stung like a motherfucker if you got hit, and if you managed to tag little Susie upside the head in just the right way, you'd get the ultimate reward: The Echo of Justice, where the ball reverberates audibly as her head snaps backwards and a line of saliva sails through the air like a grappling hook cast by a ninja. That's right, HER HEAD. Girls weren't safe just because they had a vagina, and head shots were the goal, not something to be punished. Not everyone can be a winner, and those who failed didn't cry in the corner and have their parents sue the school. They learned that giving anything less than everything is unfair to you, and to your team, and you have to BUST YOUR ASS TO SUCCEED. We carried bookbags the size of our entire bodies, and it made us tougher. After school, we rode bikes without helmets around the neighbourhood and camped in the front yard. We'd play until dark with no parents putting leashes on us and watching our every move. At dark, we'd come in... to get flashlights, then we'd hustle back outside. Shovels would be absconded with for devious purposes, and garden hoses aided and abetted our nefarious plans. We'd get up at 6am on a Saturday to watch Voltron and Transformers, and backyard emulations of Optimus Prime vs Megatron were sure to follow. You scrape a knee, you wipe it off and get back to playing, laughing the whole time. We had Nerd Bow and Arrow and learned how to make it shoot harder. We used slip 'n' slides and got grass stains and every so often someone would really biff it and break an arm or something, but know what? That's cool, because you got a cast, and even the girl you pretended to hate but really had a crush on would sign it. We played video games sometimes, but only as a respite from the physical exhaustion of playing outside, or something to do at sleepover parties. The concept of sitting in front of a computer and playing a video game for 30 hours was something we had heard of, but didn't see the appeal. We did watch Nick at Nite though, and loved the innocent hilarity of it. During summer, we'd spend all day at the pool without sunblock, eat Dairy Queen, and run amok until we were so tired that we just wanted to go to bed and do it all over again. Then there are the children of today. Play inside where parents can see you, lest you be stolen by boogeymen in white vans. Don't climb that tree, you'll fall and break your neck. Don't swing so hard on that swingset, you don't know how well it's made. The monkey bars aren't even there anymore. Mommy will give you a ride to school, and wait for her to sign you out from school when the day is over. Recess better be spent inside, so we can make happy little drawings. Maybe if you're good, you can have a Tug Of Peace, but remember, everyone is a winner! Red Rover? Certainly not, you could dislocate a shoulder! Dodgeball? Well maybe, but we'll have to use a foam ball and you have to aim for the right thigh. SMEAR THE WHAT? YOUNG MAN, YOU ARE GETTING DETENTION! Ok, at least the school day is over, so you can go ride bikes with Frankie, but don't forget the bodyguard. Remember to wear your helmet and Michelin Man suit! I'm glad you all got As, it's good to see that everyone is the super winner! Did you remember to put a new sticker on your rolling backpack? Good boy! Back already? It's only been 15 minutes! Ok, I didn't know you're tired. Yes, you can play video games. No, you cannot play soccer, hockey, baseball, football, jai alai, or lawn darts. I don't care if Timmy's mom lets him, you're going to be in this room under my (not actually that watchful) eye until you're a total social outcast because all you can do is play World Of Warcraft. Ok, I suppose you can go to the park. WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU BROKE YOUR ARM! I AM GOING TO SUE! Aren't you glad it's summer? Yes, we can go to the pool, but only for 2 hours, and you have to wear so much sunblock you look like Casper the Friendly Ghost. Today's children are being raised in environments that are unrealistic. When they get out from under their parents' wings, they are going to find a world where not everyone can win, where people do get hurt, and where you won't always have someone ready to sue when you don't like how things went. Without risk, there cannot be reward, and without reward (be it intrinsic or extrinsic), there is no motivation. Children need to be challenged, so they WANT to succeed. When you shovel the path of all obstacles and let them cruise, the only thing they learn is mediocrity in all aspects. Let the kids have a fucking childhood, and stop trying to make things perfect. It doesn't work, it doesn't help, and it's utterly insane. cavete terrae.

I've taken three coworkers for tandems, I suspect they've figured it out by now cavete terrae.

I've got 'em, but I still hear the little shit. Sigh... 2.5 more weeks. I can make it that long without killing a dog, I think. cavete terrae.

Oh, I know it's his fault, but I can sleep through a GSD barking if I want to. The sound of a worthless overgrown rat's high-pitched YIP YIP YIP YIP is like the sound of styrofoam being moved around, I just can't handle it. cavete terrae.

...are fucking worthless nuisances. YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP YIP If there's any truth to Koreans enjoying the taste of dog, I'm going to punt my brother's god damned chihuahua to Seoul. Starts barking at the drop of a hat, and I never get any sleep. cavete terrae.

Say naughty things to it, maybe rub it a little... cavete terrae.

Well, the carrying stuff around doesn't bug me as much as the clearing security. With no bags, clearing security is fast as hell. Carrying a rig? I assume the worst. Oh well, I reckon I'll figure something out... as for when, it'll be 30 November. cavete terrae.

Fucking incompetent assholes. If they don't think the lockers are secure enough, they're obviously saying their security checks are inadequate, since the lockers were IN THE SECURE AREA. So what it comes down to is that I get to carry my rig and travel bag around LA while I hang out with a few friends, and show up 2 hours before the flight so I can clear security, instead of showing up 45 minutes before without bags. The FAA/TSA have their heads so far up their asses they can see their esophagus. cavete terrae.

I know there used to be, but I'm not sure if they're still around? I've got a lengthy layover on my way to Australia, and it'd be easier to leave my luggage securely and leave the airport for a few hours than it would be to take it with me and have to dick with security going through it again. cavete terrae.

Well? cavete terrae.

It's like a constant reminder that we're not out there having fun cavete terrae.

I work with a girl who is 4'9", about perhaps 85-90lbs, and was asking me about doing a tandem jump. Could she safely fit into a tandem harness? cavete terrae.

Officially my favourite "first post" in a long time cavete terrae.

http://www.break.com/index/target_practice.html I don't believe in god, but Jeremy Clarkson is pretty close. cavete terrae.

When it comes to destroying a childhood memory by "remaking" it, I think George Lucas and the Penny Arcade gang say it best: I love Penny Arcade Note the shirt: http://spiceweasel.net/batjew.jpeg cavete terrae.

I just hope Bay doesn't completely rape one of my fondest memories... we shall see. cavete terrae.

I used to pack mals on the parachute GI Joes. Man, if that wasn't a sign of things to come.... cavete terrae.

This is my childhood, I'd be a traitor if I didn't buy it! cavete terrae.

I am truly a child of the 80s cavete terrae.

cavete terrae.

my plan is to be spontaneous cavete terrae.

Friend of mine hit a pothole, the airbag fired, and he was so surprised he crashed the car hard enough so that he would have benefited, but it was already used cavete terrae.