Yea, I think it went off the rails as soon as broad generalisations were used as to predict the motives of the sex worker. People go into sex work for many different reasons, and that is an important thing to know when piecing together the advice given.

If you do this before work, we call it “The Sandman’s Gamble”

I looked it up and a block in Chicago (where I live) is between 100 to 600 meters.

Chicago and New York have similar walkability, at least in my experience.

Nearest Grocery Store is 1.2 km (0.8miles) away from me, I usually take my bike to go shopping

Nearest park is like… 50 feet from me (15meters) but I happen to live right next to a park.

Nearest cornerstore is 300 meters

Nearest train station is 600 meters

Nearest library is 800 meters

To add some more,

Nearest bar is 400 meters away

I’m a musician, within 1km of me there are 4 open mics I can go to

Nearest theater is the Music Box which is 1.2 km away

Nearest baseball stadium is 1 km away

God I love Chicago

I think this comment wasn’t supposed to be an argument for the existence of Israel, but rather directed at the initial premise. They are challenging the assumption that support for the Israeli state and support for the conflict in Gaza are one in the same.

I mean say what ya want but running with friends is great.

At least you thought it was.

Sam was just next to you a second ago, and then all of a sudden his heavy breathing went silent. You want to call out but the sound of gunfire silences you. You serpentine through the woods to try and avoid the bullets, but one grazes your shoulder. You keep sprinting as you hear the gun reloading. You come to a ravine as the trees get thicker. This is your chance to lose him. You zag along the stream for 50 feet and then run up to the wooded forest. You keep moving, never letting up. He who hesitates is dead.

In the clearing you find a shed- perhaps you can find something to hide under. You open the doors and you step back in horror. Sam was separated into 3 distinct pieces. Your heart drops as you see your friend, your brother in arms from the 22 battalion, lifeless in front of you. You go to leave the shed immediately, but when you go to open the door, it’s locked.

He found you.

You look to the shadows quickly to see where he is, but the shed is empty. You go back to the door but again, it won’t budge. As you go to the windows, you begin to smell gasoline seeping in under the floorboards, and then the sound of a match strike.

Within seconds the shed was ablaze. You begin to slam your boddy against the door- it needs to open. It must open. It starts to become hard to breathe, but you can’t stop. The flames are beginning to lick your clothes as you feel the burns developing on your body. You keep rushing the door until finally you hear the wood splinter. Your burned body breaks through the door, but you fall immediately to the ground. While the fresh cool air comes as a relief to the lungs, the bark, twigs, leaves and dirt tear through your fragile skin. You yell in pain as you roll over to see the shed collapse from its own weight as the flames consumed the rest of it.

There was no doubt now that Sam was dead.

But that thought quickly broke as you felt the heal of a boot come down on your chest. You look up into the barel of a shotgun, and behind it is who you feared the most. The one your father told you about every night in his ghost stories when you were a child. You thought he was just a myth, but there he was.

Shia LaBeouf

Also usually when I run with my sister I play music and we have a traveling dance party, it’s great!

This reminds me of how when I was young, my dad would get us an extra order of desert when mom left to use the restroom. It was the best dad move. Ofc I was an anxiety case while trying to eat the ice cream before mom got back, it was that intense anxiety where it felt something was following you. Do you know? No. All you know is that every fiber in your being told you you needed get out of that old warehouse as soon as possible. You keep running, avoiding roots and rocks. You keep second guessing yourself. Where we alone? You look to see if Sam followed you but he’s nowhere to be seen. You swear you two looked at eachother with the same chill just moments ago. You call out to him, but you hear nothing. You slow down and turn around but the sun has already set and the trees shroud any sense of direction. You call out again, but regret it instantly.

The weight of something big is coming.

You pick a direction and go in an all out sprint. You don’t know where you are going but know whatever has been tracking you is behind you. You are now shrieking call for Sam but he is long gone. The ground below you shifts as you come to a steep decline. You stumble but catch yourself, only to find the moss on the ground won’t hold you. You slip and roll into a ravine, and as you fall your ankle hits a rock. You don’t know if it’s broken but at this point you know that whatever is behind you is worse than the pain of each step. You are limping but moving, but now you are losing ground. The bushes burst open behind you and in the shock you fall back down, firmly breaking the leg you tried so hard to ignore. You turn over while you writhe in pain to see what remained of Sam being held by what couldn’t be a man but couldn’t be a beast. He comes forward smelling the air furiously. You didn’t want to believe it, but Sam was taken and soon you will be too. In your final moments, a face finally comes 2 inches from yours.

You didn’t want to believe things could go south so fast. You didn’t want to believe Sam was dead. You didn’t want to believe you never would sleep in your bed or eat rainbow Sherbet again. You didn’t want to believe your eyes when you saw him-

Shia LaBeouf.

Anyway when mom came back dad would always take the heat for us, but he’s a funny guy and mom couldn’t stay mad for long.

That was very Mr. Rodgers of you.

RIP my bank account

Musicians curse.

I’m a multi-instrumentalist and I now have 3 guitars, a bass, a banjo, two ukuleles, a sousaphone, trombone, trumpet, soprano trombone, bugle, clarinet, tenor sax, Roland keyboard, melodica, cajone, stylophone, otamatone, ocarina, concertina, and a recorder. My goal is 50 instruments by the time I’m 50.

I have a problem.

I worked at a preppy catholic school in Chicago. Every year they had a Gala with an auction where people would throw around $60k like it was nothing. Afterwards all the parents of students I taught were plastered and grinding on each other on the dancefloor, and then I was invited to a sex party in the hotel they stayed at. Being 20 years younger than these folks, I was really weirded out.

Catholics go hard.

I’ve had good and bad interactions with them, so I just think “hey they are flawed (hopefully) human beings that have good days and bad days”. Chances are if I treat them (or anyone) kindly, the interaction will be positive.

My goal online is to try and be a wholesome user, although that doesn’t always happen. I usually delete my comments when I don’t like how I acted with someone else as I want to remind myself to take a kinder approach to Lemmy. There’s enough toxicity online.

I think “would Mr. Rodgers approve?”

Actually the little button sends an SOS to local authorities, so chances are the little button works fine and you have an incoming SWAT raid with paramedics and police surrounding the building.

Don’t worry, it’s not prostitution, we have a camera so it’s porn

!cartographyanarchy@lemm.ee

There better be a whoopie cushion on it 🥵😈

I will not stand for this bobophobia.

Eww

Who the hell does that?

Awwww beans, thanks for your flexibility!

From a mod of one community to another- game recognizes game 🏆 thank you for what you do.

Honestly, the wildest one was a guy who said “I grew up anti-racist, so I know I’m not racist” and literally dropped an N bomb and then said some stupid race jokes. Dude was white and kept saying he was invited to the cookouts.

Oh don’t worry they’ll let you know they aren’t racist. In fact they will be so helpful in telling you that you are the real racist for calling them racist./s