Current
...why is my youtube feed full of Jordan Peterson videos? I've never watched any of his shit
2
likes
7 yrs ago
I'll top the bill! I'll overkill! I have to find the will to carry on with the show! On with the show!
7 yrs ago
@Metadude Well, why not. If it works, it works.
2
likes
7 yrs ago
You also gotta remember partisan jokes only work for those on your side. Like if I make afor joke about the bloody Union, I'll get the support of my Northern friends but push away those Union folks.
1
like
7 yrs ago
Ja, uff da. Ække godt det der
Bio
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies, Or being hated, don’t give way to hating, And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster And treat those two impostors just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken, And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breathe a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch, If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
Sleep felt good. Indeed it did. Noyi however awoke to a strange scene with many people and unfamilliar faces. She blinked before blushing softly, a smile on her lips. "Ohayo~ Watashi am Noyi, yoroshkune~" she introduced herself to the newcomers, her broken English stuttering out. She was not sure why she felt so full, as if she'd just eaten, but nonetheless she did. In fact, all she could remember was her and that other person entering this house, seeing the hostess... and that's it. Strange, indeed. And she then discovered her seating, how she held the entire couch occupied for herself, and by her good natured heart, she pounced up into a more welcoming and friendly seating, occupying only the corner. Her hands rested in her lap and her hair was softly playing about with the flying dust.
She took her time to examine the others in the room, uncertain what to say. She was never that good at making herself seen, much unlike Yoki, and this crowd was well busy with their own mingling. Perhaps she should take this time to pull away and start unpacking? Or would that be rude? Might as well ask. "G-gomenasai, hostess-san. May... I, ettoo, place.. of things?" she muttered with her forehead wrinkled up in a frown. Bloody English, why must it be so hard? She shook her head before racing up, giving the people present a deep, courteous bow, something she'd forgotten to do.
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:
If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!
<div style="white-space:pre-wrap;">If you can keep your head when all about you <br> Are losing theirs and blaming it on you, <br>If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,<br> But make allowance for their doubting too; <br>If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,<br> Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,<br>Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,<br> And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:<br><br>If you can dream—and not make dreams your master; <br> If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim; <br>If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster<br> And treat those two impostors just the same; <br>If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken<br> Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,<br>Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,<br> And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:<br><br>If you can make one heap of all your winnings<br> And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,<br>And lose, and start again at your beginnings<br> And never breathe a word about your loss;<br>If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew<br> To serve your turn long after they are gone, <br>And so hold on when there is nothing in you<br> Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’<br><br>If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, <br> Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,<br>If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,<br> If all men count with you, but none too much;<br>If you can fill the unforgiving minute<br> With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run, <br>Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, <br> And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!</div>
