The Drivel Thread

Baz Attack
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Born to Harangue said:
The reason why I have the name "born to harangue" and why your insults consistently miss the mark is because I tailor my haranguing to each individual person. Whatever I say to someone applies to them and only them, whereas your generic and lazy insults could be used indiscriminately against seven billion different people if you felt so inclined. What you type means nothing, you couldn't be less insightful. "Fool" isn't even worthy of a reply but I thought I'd give you some indication as to why I deem you irrelevant and why I have no respect for you whatsoever (amongst plenty of other reasons why).
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I don't imagine he, nor anyone else here (with the possible exception of malarkey), is anywhere near as invested as you though!
 
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I didn't go out today. I felt shy and cowardly. I went to London Drugs yesterday and the price of paper to write on has shot up, way up. I intend to go to Dollarama and if need be, to Walmart, in the hope that they'll have loose leaf paper and not for exorbitant prices. I suppose binders will become scarce and expensive too, with everything becoming paper free and computerized. The pens and inks I've invested in are becoming obsolete. I'll have to pay through the nose at pen shops, for paper and ink.

My concerns are nothing compared to people who are stuck out on the streets though. I'm lucky to have a wonderful home, a great bathtub, bed, recliner, art supplies, food, clothes, and good coffees/teas. I have peace and tranquility, quietude, safety and security. I don't know how long my luck will last but for now I'm not having to deal with living in shelters with people who are not all peaceful. I've never actually slept or spent the night out on the street. I always had shelter, though sometimes with unsavoury people, to put it mildly. I don't know what it's like, to feel the need to escape from a moldy SRO, to ride the skytrain to stay away from mold, though I did used to have a moldy apartment, in Mount Pleasant, years ago, that made me very ill. My dog didn't get sick from it. Just me. I ended up scouring it with ammonia and made it liveable, but then, bad luck came upon me, after my dog had been dead for a few years. But I won't go on about that. Because I have already mentioned what happened, and no one believes it. No one but conspiracy theorists, hard core ones. They are few and far between. I have been honest about it. That's all I can do. I'm seen as either deluded, or a liar, if I speak about it here. So, no dice. It is what it is. It's done, and I have no proof. I try to salvage what's left of my life.
 
Light Housework said:
I didn't go out today. I felt shy and cowardly. I went to London Drugs yesterday and the price of paper to write on has shot up, way up. I intend to go to Dollarama and if need be, to Walmart, in the hope that they'll have loose leaf paper and not for exorbitant prices. I suppose binders will become scarce and expensive too, with everything becoming paper free and computerized. The pens and inks I've invested in are becoming obsolete. I'll have to pay through the nose at pen shops, for paper and ink.

My concerns are nothing compared to people who are stuck out on the streets though. I'm lucky to have a wonderful home, a great bathtub, bed, recliner, art supplies, food, clothes, and good coffees/teas. I have peace and tranquility, quietude, safety and security. I don't know how long my luck will last but for now I'm not having to deal with living in shelters with people who are not all peaceful. I've never actually slept or spent the night out on the street. I always had shelter, though sometimes with unsavoury people, to put it mildly. I don't know what it's like, to feel the need to escape from a moldy SRO, to ride the skytrain to stay away from mold, though I did used to have a moldy apartment, in Mount Pleasant, years ago, that made me very ill. My dog didn't get sick from it. Just me. I ended up scouring it with ammonia and made it liveable, but then, bad luck came upon me, after my dog had been dead for a few years. But I won't go on about that. Because I have already mentioned what happened, and no one believes it. No one but conspiracy theorists, hard core ones. They are few and far between. I have been honest about it. That's all I can do. I'm seen as either deluded, or a liar, if I speak about it here. So, no dice. It is what it is. It's done, and I have no proof. I try to salvage what's left of my life.
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i can understand you feeling bad about all the homeless people, because when it comes right down to it there's absolutely no difference between them and you and so why should you have a safe warm place to live and they dont? or why shouldnt you sleep on the street if they have to? you did nothing to earn it. nobody likes you more than them, certainly god doesnt. maybe the way it should work is that you should take turns: they could say, alright sharon, you've had ten years of living in security and comfort, now clear yourself out, cause now it's bobs turn, here's a few pieces of sodden cardboard and a junkie starter kit, knock yourself out!

i mean, for all the difference it would make.
 
Light Housework said:
I didn't go out today. I felt shy and cowardly. I went to London Drugs yesterday and the price of paper to write on has shot up, way up. I intend to go to Dollarama and if need be, to Walmart, in the hope that they'll have loose leaf paper and not for exorbitant prices. I suppose binders will become scarce and expensive too, with everything becoming paper free and computerized. The pens and inks I've invested in are becoming obsolete. I'll have to pay through the nose at pen shops, for paper and ink.

My concerns are nothing compared to people who are stuck out on the streets though. I'm lucky to have a wonderful home, a great bathtub, bed, recliner, art supplies, food, clothes, and good coffees/teas. I have peace and tranquility, quietude, safety and security. I don't know how long my luck will last but for now I'm not having to deal with living in shelters with people who are not all peaceful. I've never actually slept or spent the night out on the street. I always had shelter, though sometimes with unsavoury people, to put it mildly. I don't know what it's like, to feel the need to escape from a moldy SRO, to ride the skytrain to stay away from mold, though I did used to have a moldy apartment, in Mount Pleasant, years ago, that made me very ill. My dog didn't get sick from it. Just me. I ended up scouring it with ammonia and made it liveable, but then, bad luck came upon me, after my dog had been dead for a few years. But I won't go on about that. Because I have already mentioned what happened, and no one believes it. No one but conspiracy theorists, hard core ones. They are few and far between. I have been honest about it. That's all I can do. I'm seen as either deluded, or a liar, if I speak about it here. So, no dice. It is what it is. It's done, and I have no proof. I try to salvage what's left of my life.
Click to expand...
Only Jesus offers true peace, I can testify to that.
And only Jesus is the cure for anxiety.
Your life's gonna end on earth, and without Jesus, it's worse afterwards
But with Him, we have hope, and a relationship, & not a religion. Christianity isn't Catholicism : )
 
Ballerina Out Of Control said:
Only Jesus offers true peace, I can testify to that.
And only Jesus is the cure for anxiety.
Your life's gonna end on earth, and without Jesus, it's worse afterwards
But with Him, we have hope, and a relationship, & not a religion. Christianity isn't Catholicism : )
Click to expand...

Just curious,

what is this ‘afterwards’ and how and why is it ‘worse’ ?
 

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