We can do this with wet wipes, but carbon is a bridge too far?

Easily the weirdest demonstration of the. ‘polluter pays’ principle

I’ve seen some videos on them. They look pretty nice but I worry about how they hold up and the build quality, as I would any relatively unestablished brand.

Bruh was a deer in his past life

I’m prepping my measles blankets right now. Those unvaxxed nazis don’t stand a chance!

Funny, wonder where trump got that idea.

Found the Canadian

So that’s the reason as guys age we end up hairer on our bodies and end up walking around like bald gorillas.

Depends on how strongly you value your relationship with your brother. He may be a fuckwaffle, but he is your fuckwaffle. It’s big of you setting your differences aside. If you don’t go, and he means a lot to you outside of his political views, then you might regret not going. If you don’t really care for him and political ideology is more important then dont go. I think not going is kind of crossing the Rubicon, but I don’t know the situation part from your details

Just one more oil boom, bro. We promise not to piss this one away. C’mon, don’t hit us with oil tariffs on our marginal product we can’t get to market. Don’t be a dick bro.

That helped, kind of but I can’t get the gallery app to replace it.

What’s the mecca thing? I don’t remember that one

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The wind rose over the flat expanse of Florida, born from the restless Atlantic and rolling westward in the heavy heat of afternoon. It slipped through palm fronds, rustling the dead leaves that clung stubbornly to their branches, and whispered across the wide lanes of I-95, where cars moved with the slow inevitability of a retirement parade.

It crossed gated communities and half-finished luxury towers, stirring the stagnant air in theme parks and strip malls alike. The wind carried with it the scent of salt and distant wildfires, but also something else—something faint, yet impossible to ignore. The kind of feeling that lingers like humidity long after the sun has set.

At last, the wind curled over the high walls of Mar-a-Lago, where fountains bubbled beneath the gaze of marble lions, and the grass lay clipped so fine it seemed the earth itself feared displeasing the one who reigned there. On a balcony, a man stood, golden-haired and heavily spray tanned beneath the fading sky, eyes narrowed at the horizon as if he alone could halt the turning of the world by sheer will.

Donald Trump shifted his weight, resting heavily on the rail. The wind tugged at his tie but did not move him. Here, in this strange land, the Wheel of Time did not turn forward, nor back. It spun in confused, lurching spirals, tilting precariously at each revolution. And over it all, the wind blew, indifferent to the affairs of men. The wind was not the beginning, but it was a beginning

How do I do the multiple account thing

Conventional Ag is a method, distinguishing it from regenerative Ag etc.

It’s no joke: conventional Ag is extremely tough on soils, and depletes soil organic matter, and reduces topsoil thickness though ploughing. Add on top of that contamination from various sources (not just Ag) and the picture is bleak.

Thanks for the update. I hope you and yours are safe. What a terrible situation

This.

And a bit of what he’s talking about. I live under a rock with isopods for the most part. I stopped watching the news on TV years ago, and have really reduced the effort I put into keeping up with world events because of how discouraging it is, and how much I’ve come to realize said narratives are primarily competing propaganda narratives.

It’s insanely hard to find a modicum of truth in the sea of shit out there, and journalistic integrity has largely fallen by the wayside.