dvtv75
My stepfather would say the same thing. Whenever I'd eat a salad, he'd look at it and say "I can't eat that shit," then he'd eat a steak that had been fried in 1" of fat, some eggs also fried in the same 1" of fat, some home made chips/fries, also fried in the same fat. French toast, to him, was bread fried in 1" of fat.
I wish I was making this up. As a teenager, my diet was horrific, usually undercooked mincemeat with chunks of bone still in it, but I did get some vegetables. Unfortunately, they were "flash boiled" - cauliflower and cabbage that were nearly raw, mashed potatoes that had uncooked and unmashed chunks in it. I used to heap pepper and sauce (ketchup) on everything, so I couldn't taste a thing.
In the event he did eat something that resembled a salad, it was a heavily curried coleslaw, with heavily curried grated carrot, and heavily curried eggs.
When his doctor ordered him on a low fat and low cholesterol diet, he realized that the suggested margarine had less of the bad stuff in it so he could put more on his white bread, usually as thick as a half dozen playing cards.
When he grabbed the salt shaker, you knew he was going to die from a heart attack or a stroke - and he did. Without a word of exaggeration, he would shake salt over his food for half a minute or more. He always had a bottle of Coke beside him, too. He'd drink a couple of 1.5 liter bottles a day in summer.
As an aside, it was almost a decade after I left home before I re-discovered the idea of meals for pleasure. I'd been trained to stuff terrible food in my mouth for so long that I never bothered to taste anything. These days, I'd rather have some fresh-sliced tomato, leek in a white sauce, side dish of tortellini with a drizzle of olive oil over it, and some steamed mixed vegetables (corn, peas, brocolli, cauliflower) than any of the crap he ate, or forced me to eat. Unfortunately, now I'm hungry.
I think.
I'm sure that it's innate, because I can't visualize even simple things.
There have been a number of people who insist that they can teach me how to do that. They always start off with "Picture a..." When I tell them that I can't, I'm just being negative or uncooperative. Eventually, they get angry, throw tantrums, insult me, and stomp off like a child because I'm doing everything I can to prove them wrong, yet it never occurs to them that I simply can't do it. No, I'm always lazy, negative, and am allowing a diagnosis to define me.
So was I. I was reading books to my parents and grandparents by the time I was three years old. By 8 years old, I had the reading age of an adult, and when my father eventually regained legal access to us (edit: when I was 9 years old), I was correcting his spelling, pronunciation, and grammar.
My entire family thought I was some kind of genius, but it turned out that I have a moderate-to-severe learning disability, and this was an early symptom of it.
I'm not trying to diagnose your daughter, don't even imagine that. However, I am suggesting that there may be other reasons for your daughter's apparent advancement.
Funny thing.
She changed my position from "I could have been permanently injured!" to "I want all of those potential weapons removed from the state!"
Like you, I won't be talking to journalists again.
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Butifyou'regoingtomessupwordsandclaimreadability,whynottakeoutspacesandseehowyoumightfare?
Orsrmcablewrdosinsteeenncswhoitutseacps,too?
Hope there aren't any spelling mistakes, I tried to ensure everything was correct before I messed with it. I spent way too long on this, and since I've tried to check everything out I need a break. It was still quite enjoyable to do, although I'm sure it had a negative impact on my spelling.
There are two greyhounds, not three.
If I was downvoted for saying that greyhounds aren't good guard dogs, then whoever did that should probably actually meet some greyhounds. The muzzles they wear aren't to stop them biting people, they're to stop them nipping at each other during races, and to protect small dogs and other animals when they're not racing.
They're sight hounds - silent watchers with an unbelievably friendly, trusting, and loving nature, and once they've tired of your attention they will wander away to sleep off the excitement.
When we lost her pack mate to cancer, a few years ago, she sat on the couch for ten days, didn't eat, just lay with her head between her paws. We were all heartbroken, myself most of all, but she was too sad to help anyone this particular time. After she recovered, she helped me a lot.
We don't deserve dogs, but dogs are awesome and we could learn a lot from them. “Be the person your dog thinks you are!” ― J.W. Stephens
Definitely not good guard dogs.
One day, he was out walking her, and three guys came up to him. They stood around my friend in the usual threatening triangle formation, so no matter which way he faced someone was behind him. They started accusing him of stealing from them, and started to get aggressive until one noticed his dog and asked if she attacked. Just a moment later, she launched herself at the three of them - only the tight leash saved them from being bitten. She'd die to protect her family.
Whenever I visit him, she "attacks" me - launches herself at me so I can lavish attention on her for as long as possible. If he ever had to get rid of her, I'd take her in a heartbeat, but depriving her of the kids she loves so much would be one of those heartbreaking moments you'd never want to see.
Last time he went for a run I had to get the car! Found him playing with some kids at the local sports ground - I'm glad greyhounds have such a pleasant nature, and love people so much, because if he'd appeared any more aggressive than a giant and playful puppy, there might have been problems.
The landlord still won.
I guess one lesson here is to never trust a powerful man with everything to lose.
She loved it. Every second of it. She nearly wet herself laughing at the statue. When we got to the end, she again asked what it was called, and I told her. She glared at me, called me a bastard, and asked if we could watch the sequel.
You won, Leslie Neilsen, you won.
I have many memories of having to pull over and be sick on the side of the road, as I grew up. Vague memories of pink motion sick tablets when I was four. I sometimes can't even sit in the back seat of a car, especially so if the seats have headrest. A couple of years back, I was given a tour of a ship that was docked, and as we headed below decks, I started to feel most unwell.
It's an S3 that is becoming slower and more frustrating to use every time there's an update. It can take anything from 20 seconds up to a minute to respond to a button press, and of course I'm never sure if I touched the button properly so I hit it again. It'll respond to the entire queue in a second or two, and then I need to start over.
I can't. I'm unable to visualize things (I believe I have Aphantasia) so when I create something, I have to do it a piece at a time and see if it satisfies the requirements of each step. Makes for a lot of trial-and-error.