#but occasionally a blind squirrel finds a nut

[ilopisara]

10.04. 21:20 | Ilo Pisara vs Musta Minuutti 2 - 5

Ah, the latest spectacle in Ilo Pisara's grand saga of ice-bound blunders and occasional brilliance ended with a 2-5 loss against Musta Minuutti. It seems our strategy was less about scoring goals and more about testing the patience of our fans. Let’s break it down: Teppo Winnipeg, bless his skates, managed to find the net once amidst what can only be described as an existential crisis on ice – proving even a blind squirrel finds a nut occasionally. Sami Noddy played like he thought interceptions were collectible items - eight! Yet, for all those possessions, translating them into goals seemed as likely as me winning a beauty contest. Yuri Tarde spent so much time in the penalty box; one might think he mistook it for a vacation home. Seven minutes? Really? That’s not playing hockey; that’s taking unscheduled breaks! Macho Fantastico dished out assists while also generously giving away pucks twelve times – embodying the spirit of giving better than Santa himself. And Jani Saari... Ahh, where do we start? A goal and an assist are commendable until you realize he treated puck possession like hot potato mixed with frequent visits to Sin Bin City (20 penalty minutes!). In conclusion: If there were awards for comedic timing on ice or most creative ways to lose possession, Ilo Pisara would be reigning champions. Onward we skate—hopefully towards victory next time but definitely towards being legends in hockey folklore (for reasons good or bad).

[sciencestyled]

We’re Not Saying We’re Geniuses, But We Might Just Be After Explaining Gravitational Waves à la Homer Simpson

Hey, fellow Earthlings and assorted Springfieldians! Buckle up your brain belts because we're about to serve up a heaping helping of Homer Simpson's take on gravitational waves. Yes, you read that right. Our favorite donut-devouring, Duff-guzzling, sofa-sprawling Homer is about to school us all. And honestly, if we can understand this stuff, anyone can – we're practically smug about it.

Let's set the scene: Imagine Homer, beer in hand (because, of course), schooling us on gravitational waves. It's like having a science lesson in Moe's Tavern, but with less questionable stains and more mind-blowing revelations. Homer might not know his arithmetic from his armadillo, but when it comes to space ripples (yes, we said ripples – keep up!), he's suddenly the unintentional Stephen Hawking of Springfield.

Einstein, that guy with the wild hair and the E=mc² party trick, once threw down the gauntlet about space and time being all bendy. Well, Homer, in his infinite wisdom and simplicity, breaks it down for us mere mortals. Imagine space-time as a giant rubber sheet, which, no, is not a reference to Homer's bed-wetting solutions. Stick something heavy on it – think Barney post-Thanksgiving dinner – and watch that baby bend.

Now, enter the showstoppers: gravitational waves. These are not your average ocean waves where Flanders loses his mustache. These are more like cosmic belches after Homer's chili cook-offs, echoing across the universe. When massive stuff like black holes and stars decide to play bumper cars, they send these waves zipping and zapping through space.

And how does Homer, a man whose most strenuous mental exercise is often choosing between a glazed or a chocolate sprinkle donut, wrap his head around these invisible cosmic ripples? Well, he likens it to a blind squirrel occasionally finding a nut – basically, a stroke of luck. But worry not, because there are actual geniuses with tools and tech to detect these space-time shenanigans.

Feeling lost? Imagine Homer explaining it with a cold Duff in hand, probably burping occasionally for effect. Space-time, gravitational waves, and everything in between, he's got it covered in a way that even we, with our occasional brain cells firing, can grasp. And honestly, if Homer Simpson can get it, there's no excuse for the rest of us.

But don't just take our word for it. Dive headfirst (or donut-first, Homer's preferred method) into this wild world where science meets Simpson. It's a ride through the cosmos, guided by the least likely tour guide. You'll laugh, you'll cry (from laughter), and you might just learn something between giggles.

In conclusion, gravitational waves, black holes, and cosmic shenanigans are no longer just for the Lisa Simpsons of the world. Even us Homers can grasp it, and honestly, we're feeling pretty chuffed about it. We might just throw around words like "space-time continuum" at parties now. So join us, won't you, in basking in the glow of our newfound, Homer-inspired intellect. It's not every day you get to feel like a brainiac, all thanks to a cartoon character with a penchant for pink-frosted donuts.

[syabm]

Meanwhile, several companies have been sued under antitrust laws for price-fixing [Washington Legislature gets tough on antitrust violations],

Lawsuits are not in themselves actual proof.

while pressures from suppliers and investors have pushed other companies to raise prices unreasonably. [Why Your Groceries Are Still So Expensive]

Ah. So it's not actually corporate greed? It's actually companies responding to market forces?

Bob is just spouting random leftist memes and personal attacks, not demonstrating an actual understanding of the subject or even the concepts he uses.

If he's right about anything, it's in the same manner that a blind squirrel with no sense of smell can occasionally find a nut.

THE GOOD NEWS is that this likely won't last, especially if you support passing stronger anti-trust laws.

"This problem heavily caused by goverment influence should be solved with more government influence."

I don't think this is a very strong argument!

[random-tinies]

Crowza - 2

Hey, I’m on AO3 too! It’ll be the first thing updated when I finish a chapter from now on, but only by like, a few hours. :P I’ll be updating this fic on the first of every month so you guys know when to expect it next. This was sitting in my Docs almost done for weeks and I finally sat down and went “I’m writing the rest of this.” and did it, so here’s chapter two!

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AO3 Link 

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Sunlight filters through the branches and leaves of the old oak. Phil lifts a wing over his face, grumbling about how the sun is always at the perfect angle to blind him every morning. Of course, he does this song and dance every spring. He’s not exactly an early bird, which is why he never blocks it. It helps him get up in the morning.

The tiny bird hybrid resigns to his fate and sits up, blinking blearily at his old home. A torn picture of his boys hangs on the far end of the hollow. He grins, happy to be greeted by their faces. The photo had been yoinked last year when it fell out of Tommy’s jacket during one of his more daring excursions. Always so chaotic, that one, Philza chuckles to himself as the thought crosses his mind. Good memories.

He walks to his stash of nuts and jerky and various other bits of food he collected and preserved the autumn before migration. He crafts a quick granola bar, thanking his lucky stars that chocolate is so easily preserved, and enjoys a sweet homemade breakfast. Pleased chirps escape him as he basks in the perfect simplicity of it all.

Today is full of plans. A lot can happen in a few months and Phil needs to make sure there’s no new predators in the area that might get the jump on him, so he’s going to patrol the area. His territory needs to be safe. He’s always very careful about going about this. It’s rare, but if humans decide to start building near him, he’d need to know.

That and he needs somewhere to get coffee. He’d think that centuries of drinking the stuff would convince him to invent a tiny coffee machine, but why create something that will break eventually when he can just sneak into a human’s house and borrow enough to last him a month of two? Of course, he won’t be borrowing that much today, but the next time all three boys leave the house, he’s certainly going to stock up. Today, he just needs a little pick-me-up.

Phil walks to the edge of his home and ducks under the branches protecting it from outsiders, then hops up them like a staircase to get the best vantage point to take off flying. A low mist hovers over the pine forest, the sun’s rays burning away at it and painting the morning in brilliant hues of gold. Phil launches himself into the air, powerful flaps disturbing the mist and sending him high above the trees. The sky above is void of clouds as he spreads his wings and coasts. The air he breathes chills his lungs but the morning sun provides a warm contrast to the feeling. Appreciation for the peace fills his chest as if it were something physical.

Spring truly is his favorite season. The crisp scent of pines and melting snow permeates the air. A few shy birds send their song up, declaring their presence to the world. This is home, this is where he loves to be, where he longs to be every winter when he has to migrate south. Occasionally, a crow joins him in the air, lazily flapping in the soft breeze.

Phil casts his eyes towards the ground, watching for any stray movements. He’d heard of mountain lions moving into the area from Kristin. They’re fleeing the forest fires west of them, she’d said. She thought maybe they were the cause of the odd feeling she has and Phil was inclined to agree, but you can never be too careful. Eventually, after finding nothing, he flies to the humble house his boys call home.

When the birdman reaches the cabin that houses his boys and nothing is amiss, he decides to land in a nearby tree and rest. The sun had climbed to about midday and he has yet to find anything that would tip him off. He fluffs his feathers as a chill sets in, the branches and needles of the tree warding off the sunlight, and takes out some squirrel jerky he packed for lunch. Perhaps it simply isn’t time to find this ominous omen Kristin gave him and he’s jumping the gun.

The door to the home opens and two people step out. It’s the blonde and brunette from the previous day. Philza watches them as they talk about something with low voices. It’s a bit odd to hear the youngest one talking so softly. Tommy’s usually boisterous and loud, throwing banter back and forth with Wilbur and giving the occasional sibling shove.

Philza hums as he takes another bite of jerky. When he goes on his coffee run inside the house, perhaps he’ll look for any clues. The thought that something could be wrong with them twists a knot of worry in his stomach. A chill goes down his spine as he realizes he hasn’t seen Techno out and about these last few days. He forgets any plans to raid the house later and throws all caution to the wind. Oh Ender, please let him be okay and not deathly ill or something.

Tommy and Wilbur climb into the red pickup next to their house and drive away. Phil immediately swoops down out of his tree and soars the short distance to the old cabin, flapping to slow himself so he can land quietly. It was his saving grace that they like to decorate the windows so he doesn’t crash into them all the time. He flap-hops around the house until he finds a window cracked open and slowly opens it further so he can crawl inside. It’s harder to find open windows further into the season since so many bugs come out.

He listens hard and looks around for any movement, staying stock still.

Nothing, the house is silent, save for the crackle of the fireplace.

He carefully steps in further, wings poised to take off at any given moment. The inside is just as cozy as the outside. The walls are decorated with photos of the trio, of a family Philza has watched grow up over the years. It’s surprisingly clean, the hand-knitted rainbow blanket folded over the back of the old leather couch. It smells like pine smoke and coffee, and bacon. Phil would find it funny if he wasn’t so worried for Techno at that moment. He hops about the living room, making his way towards the kitchen. If he can’t find anything here, he may as well get some coffee.

There’s nothing amiss on the coffee table. Phil’s claws leave tiny indentations on the softwood as he walks across it. The lamp next to him offers a little bit of light but he can see fine with the natural light coming through the windows. There’s an ad for an animal shelter in the newspaper, a comic making fun of teenagers with phones, news of the new president, and an article about a pipeline being built sometime next year. The birdman frowns at that, making a mental note. He’ll need to put an end to that before it ruins his home. He shakes his head. Right now is not the time! He needs to see if there’s anything wrong! His gaze gets caught by the fashion magazine open to a page on robes and turns a few pages, admiring the modern clothes that differ so much from his own- Oh right! Techno!

He flaps into the kitchen and trots across the counter towards the calendar hanging on the fridge. Today is circled in red with the word “ADOPTION” in messy, bold lettering. Adoption? Techno and Wilbur aren’t married, right? They can’t adopt children, right? Confusion replaces the worry in his mind but he shrugs. As far as Phil can tell by all the clues, Techno isn’t in any danger and it’s safe to get some coffee from the pot on the counter opposite of him. He hops over and crouches on the edge, dipping his rabbit-skin waterskin in and filling it full of the delicious drug.

There’s a cough from upstairs in the attic and Philza nearly jumps out of his skin. His feet slip on the edge of the pot and his wings flare out to make up for the sudden loss of balance. The mug next to him falls off the counter and shatters on the linoleum flooring with a loud crash. Oh god, oh fuck. There’s no way Techno didn’t hear that. The bird hybrid quickly reaches into the pot and retrieves his waterskin and swiftly flies back to the window, heart pounding.

He knows he’s leaving a few feathers behind, but it doesn’t matter as long as he himself doesn’t get caught. He can hear the telltale creaks of a ladder as he takes off into the open air again, inhaling deeply and landing back in his tree. What was he thinking?! Going to check on one of the beans?! He put himself in unnecessary danger just for some person he got way too attached to!

From the safety of his branch, Phil watches Techno shut the window he’d made his escape from. The piglin hybrid seems fine, no hint of any severe illnesses. The cough didn’t even sound that bad, like he was just clearing his throat. That was too close. He can’t let it happen again. Phil takes a swig of his coffee and flies off to keep scouting out his territory. I’m going to give myself a nice preen tonight, he thinks as he coasts over the trees. That nearly gave me a heart attack.

He goes back to doing his routine check-ups and patrolling around his territory, promising himself he would do better to keep himself safe. Surely he’s not losing his edge, right? Surely not…

[mattskosh]

All this time I thought NY AG Letitia James was just a partisan hack, persecuting Trump and other GOP.

James still is a partisan hack, but this only goes to show that even a blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut.

Wayne LaPierre must go.

Liberty Doll.

https://youtube.com/watch?v=cMX3NFGZTPo

[106days]

Yesterday, Wednesday, was my last day in Sri Lanka. Bit surreal writing that. The oppressive humidity I felt coming out of the airport that first night is still keen in my memory, can’t really believe almost 3 weeks have gone by.

What did I do yesterday… got up early, had breakfast. Heavy rain fell while I was at the restaurant but the skies cleared a bit after so I decided to risk it, and set off on a walk to Hikkaduwa. I’d bought postcards in Galle and picked up stamps in Ahangama - they were only 35 rupees per card which I was suspect about… it’s so cheap. I tried walking the whole way up the beach but unfortunately there are parts where rocks and sea or buildings block the route, so I weaved between beach and road.

Got to Hikkaduwa and went to the post office. Lady there said the cards and stamps were fine so here’s hoping they arrive in Aus in a couple of weeks. Not a lot to see or do in town. Turned back and went down the road in the hopes of finding a souvenir or something but most everything - cafes, shops, rental places - was closed. I can’t tell if it’s because it’s the end of the season or because tourism is still limited or both.

Was absolutely drenched in sweat again by the time I got back (even if it seems cooler it rarely actually is) so I rehydrated with a coconut and had a swim at the pool. Chilled there for a while before thinking I might try to find lunch outside the hotel. Went south this time but again, everything was shut. Ended up at a Cargills express (supermarket chain) buying snacks. They have these chilli, garlic, and pepper peanuts here that are really good. They’ve tided me over several times this trip.

Just before I left the hotel more rain had swept through. I think this is monsoon? Downpours interspersed with occasionally clearer weather? Or maybe it’s just the beginning of the wet so it’s not as severe…

Spent the afternoon in my room, pottering around and trying to get all my stuff in order. Had a call with a recruiter in London about potential job opportunities. Had another bath, because who knows when I’ll be able to do that again. One final cocktail by the beach but no sunset unfortunately, too cloudy. Dinner was a cashew nut curry (and several other side curries) which I’ve heard a lot about but hadn’t really seen advertised anywhere. It was okay. Tasty but not mind-blowing.

What to say about Sri Lanka on the whole…? Its landscape is stunning. So lush, so verdant. Palms laden with coconuts and banana trees heavy with fruit. Tiny squirrels zipping around tree trunks, monkeys clambering about in branches, lizards plodding along below. The tea plantations and cool crisp air a refreshing change from the congested and sometimes stifling cities. There are stray dogs everywhere, sometimes seen eating fried noodles or curry left out for them by nearby humans. A few stray cats too, less bolshy in their approach to being fed. Misty mornings in the mountains, before the sun comes up and beats down. Endless views across plains. The smell of coconut shells and other detritus burning by the side of the road.

By the coast, the sea stretches on forever. Crows roost in the palms and screech as storms roll in. Sunsets glow pink and orange over the water. Fishermen perch above the water, waiting for a bite.

Ubiquitous blue tuk tuks that blast a tinny, mechanical version of Fur Elise to let the neighbourhood they’re around and selling bread. Death notices plastered on telegraph poles with a black and white photo of the deceased (I guess it’s their equivalent of the newspaper). How small the island is and how close cities and towns are, but how long it takes to travel between them on narrow and rarely straight roads shared by buses with drivers going like bats out of hell, struggling tuk tuks, scooters carrying families of four or five, and old men pedalling along on their fixie bikes. The liberal use of tooting horns - Louise made a good point, to never purchase a property on a blind corner in south-east Asia. Not that this is my future but it’s worth bearing in mind, so as not to hear that crap all night! Passing men and women saying hi, hello, where you from? Just curious and smiling most of the time. People’s warmth and hospitality, and pride. Their general relaxed approach. Other than the protesters, I never witnessed any agitation or anger or stress. No toe tapping waiting in line, no rush to pay, no raised voices, no one hurrying or in a bad mood. Not to say those people weren’t around, I’m sure they were, and I doubt anyone wants to project their concerns onto tourists… but to me the prevailing feeling was one of general calm - despite everything. Udi must be in his 40s and he didn’t have a grey hair. Neither did the driver’s assistant, who has a 19 year old… Udi laughed as he told us he had to sell his car during the pandemic “to survive.” You had to laugh with him or you’d cry.

Sitting at the airport now, waiting to board. My driver sped from Hikkaduwa to Colombo, I arrived before check in for my flight even opened. I’ve had so much time to kill. Had one last dosa for breakfast. The antithesis of my experience at Sydney, for which I am grateful. Feeling a bit emotional that this part of my trip is coming to an end and hopeful that Sri Lanka comes out of everything okay, but I’m not sure. Very excited for the Middle East. A long day of travel ahead.

[theliterateape]

A Conversation About Guns In Schools

by J. L. Thurston

I meet lots of interesting people. We all do. Even introverts have occasional conversations. The other day I met an older man, grandfatherly, who was and always had been a people-person. He chose to talk with me and I’m glad he did.

We were in the ER, in a patient room. His wife had tripped on the sidewalk and was awaiting stitches. He sat in a chair beside her bed, both of their faces turned upward and slightly to the side as they watched the miniature television screen mounted in the corner of the ceiling.

The news was going on about the latest shooting. You know the one.

“Can you believe all this?” the old man hissed.

His wife pursed her lips, as though able to taste the bitterness in the world, and gave a solemn nod of agreement.

Feeling the need to reciprocate in the spirit of socializing, I said, “It seems like there are more and more shootings these days.”

The old man looked right through me. He’d seen three times the years I had, he had wisdom I could only dream of.

“You think they should take away guns?” he asked me in that knowing voice teachers often use.

In my line of work, I know enough to bite my tongue when it comes to opinions. Especially on heated topics such as Trump, immigrants, and guns. If I said the wrong thing to a patient, they could report me and I could be reprimanded. It’s just so damn easy to offend people.

But there was something in this grandpa’s voice that made me think it was safe to express myself. His eyes glistened with real interest. I don’t know. I felt like I could talk to him, which was too rare of an occasion to let pass by.

“Honestly,” I began, hoping my next statement wouldn’t bite me on the ass. “Guns or no guns, if someone wants to kill people they will find a way.”

He gave a wry smile and nodded. My shoulders sagged in relief and there was a squirm of pride in my belly. I had won the approval of this nice, wise, old man.

But he wasn’t through with the conversation. “What do you think about people wanting to arm teachers?”

I actually hadn’t heard that one, yet. My first response was a bark of laughter. In my mind, I envisioned a teacher of my past packing heat. In seconds, this scenario played out in my head. Mrs. Schnell, my algebra teacher, strutting back and forth in front of the marker board with a Glock resting comfortably at her hip. She was a thin woman, bony, and always wore high-waisted pants with her shirts tucked in. In her youth she was very beautiful, and had retained beauty and health in her golden years. For pep rallies this woman would do the splits with the cheerleaders. I’m not making this up.

But there she was in my brain with a gun. I suppose she popped up foremost in my imagination because she was so sweet and fair and kind, and even funny, but math terrified me almost as much as a gun would.

It was a reasonable scenario that my brain formulated for me to ponder over. What did I think? What would it be like to have the stress of class and the knowledge that your teacher has the means to kill a rogue student in order to save us? Could she have pulled the trigger on one of us? If any of us had lost it and gone nuts, could she push away the motherly love she undoubtedly developed over the years of teaching the same kids? Even if it meant saving lives?

“I think it’s a little absurd,” I concluded. “But I can see why people want it to be an option.”

Not to name names, but I thought of another teacher of my past. This one wasn’t so kind. He had a short fuse and a rough life. He had hard opinions and grew easily frustrated when a student refused to bend to his will.

A friend of mine, Kayse, knew the Bible pretty well in those days. She made a comment in class that tattoos were against God, in the terms that He considered our body a temple and tattoos would be a form of desecration. This teacher didn’t like that kind of talk, even in this small town with nine churches. She ended up bringing a Bible to class just to show him she knew her references, not really in a pushy way but annoying nonetheless, and he became so angry he threw a chair against the wall.

What if he was armed? I’m sure he wouldn’t become enraged so badly that he’d shoot a kid. But… I actually wouldn’t put it passed him. He had a temper that would shame an Irishman. I witnessed this over a single Bible verse. How would he react when a boy threw a spitball at him? Or refused to stop Tweeting in class? What would he do to the kid from the rough family, who swore a lot and wasn’t afraid to yell at his teacher?

It’s horrible to think a teacher would gun down a student because the student was being a little shit. But in the heat of rage, people have been known to murder their own parents. I’m not saying it happens a lot, but I am saying that it does happen.

The old man broke up my thoughts with a story. “When I was a kid, we used to have Pest Contests. Do you know what they are?”

 At first, I thought he had said Piss Contests, but my ears caught up with my brain and I shook my head. “No, sir.”

A soft smile formed on his graying lips at the memory of his boyhood. I think he must have had a very happy childhood, judging from the serenity brightening his face. “A couple times a year we’d have these Pest Contests where all the boys could bring their rifles to school. Nearly all of us had our own rifles, and those who didn’t have ‘em would bring their daddy’s. At recess, we’d go out into the woods outside the school and we’d all shoot at birds and squirrels. We’d collect our kills and whoever had the fullest game bag would win the contest. So, imagine, a school where the lockers were wooden and didn’t even have doors on ‘em, and almost each and every one of ‘em containing a loaded rifle.

“Times were different, back then,” he continued, his eyes shadowing now as they gave a sad glance back to the television screen. “We didn’t think about killing each other. We even got whooped by our teachers and never for a second would I have raised violence toward them. It just wasn’t an idea rolling around in our heads. I suppose, there must have been Pest Contests somewhere else that ended in injury. Maybe one or two that ended in tragedy, I don’t know. You didn’t really hear about much back then if it wasn’t in the paper or on the radio. We weren’t really afraid of getting hurt like that.”

He had gone from the joyful carefree days of his boyhood to the dark and twisted present we live in. The change in his eyes nearly broke my heart.

“I have a stepson who’s a freshman.” I began a little story of my own. “He overheard another student threatening to bring a gun to school. That boy listed names of kids and teachers he wanted to shoot. My stepson was worried. He told his friend’s mom and they reported it to the police. I was at work at the time. When I heard that he had gone to the cops I was pretty mad. I kept thinking that my mother would have beat my ass if I’d pulled a stunt like that.

“But my stepson lives in a different time. His school is constantly locked up, there’s metal detectors at the doors, drug sniffing dogs get passed by the lockers. Schools get shot up frequently. He’s grown up in a world where being murdered in school is a very real possibility. Once I realized that, all my anger faded. Instead, I wanted to cry for him and for all the kids of this generation. I can’t imagine not feeling perfectly safe in the classroom. If a kid threatened to shoot up the school in my day we just called him a spaz and forgot about it. But not anymore.”

I took a breath. The old man was paying close attention. His eyes encouraged me to go on. “What I’m saying is, yeah, times are different, but the problem isn’t taking guns away or adding new ones. The problem is kids who are wounded so deeply their souls are fractured, and no one helps them. These kids get broken so badly that they give in to the call of violence. We live in a culture that considers therapy as shameful. We are embarrassed to seek mental help, and we are mostly blind to kids who need help with depression or anger. So, the bottom line isn’t guns. It’s failing to save the shooters before they become shooters.”

It was a daring statement to make while in a position that limits opinions. But this grandpa, in all his years of experience with joy and success, pain and lamentation, puffed out his chest and smiled approvingly.

[rowanxsen162-blog]

What Should You Not Feed Squirrels?

Regulating Squirrels

Do squirrels carry disease?

What does it mean if a squirrel keeps staring at you? - Quora. The squirrel is tame (unafraid around humans). The squirrel is trying to obtain information about you, probably one of these. The hope is that the squirrel will chase you.

The Indian giant squirrel is the globe's largest recognized squirrel. It grows to 36 inches (1 meter) lengthy and Lansing wildlife removal evaluates up to 4 pounds (1.8 kilos). Squirrels are nimble, bushy-tailed rodents located all over the world. They come from the Sciuridae family, that includes prairie chipmunks, pet dogs as well as marmots.

Secure Plant Kingdom And Residential Property From Squirrels

What happens if a squirrel bites you?

Baby squirrels Babies are called kits or kittens and are born blind. They depend on their mothers for around two or three months.

Return in a day or 2 and also you'll likely locate that you've captured the squirrel( s) or omitted them. You'll recognize that you have actually resolved your squirrel issue if you no much longer listen to scooting noises up above in the attic. Secure them shut with steel mesh as soon as you have actually discovered all of the attic's entry holes.

Can I kill squirrels in my yard?

Diseases Squirrels Carry Squirrels are known to carry numerous diseases, though only a few are dangerous to humans. Some of the more common include tularemia, typhus, plague, and ringworm. While all mammals are capable of getting rabies, squirrels are very rarely rabid.

Heaps of big rocks as well as brush cover bring in serpents that treat on squirrels as well as gophers. When they stand at attention, ground squirrels-- Ground squirrels have long fuzzy tails that curl up. They have round, plump bodies and choose to consume fruits, acorns or tree nuts, plant leaves, as well as various other eye-catching plant that expands over ground. In your lawn, they can develop large, easy-to-see openings that result in a network of burrows in a colony.

They are energetic throughout the day and also eat nuts, seeds, conifer cones, however will likewise eat fruits, birds' eggs, as well as nestling birds. They will defend their regions more so than other squirrels.

Their http://www.usnetads.com paws are precise as well as so sharp that they are usually utilized to come down trees head-first.

I do not recognize exactly how else you will get them out of the house.

To lure a vermin trap, make use of the food that the four-legged bug appreciates, such as fruit for ground squirrels and alfalfa or hay for sly gophers.

The individual that traps them needs an authorization from the New York State Division of Environmental Conservation.

You can find wild animals control operators (individuals with permits to trap them) with this web page.

Hello there Barbara, if you have squirrels harming your home, they would be thought about a nuisance pet.

What does it mean when a squirrel stares at you?

It is very rare for a squirrel to transmit rabies to a human, but it is worth mentioning due to the dangers of being exposed. If bitten by a rabid animal, initial symptoms include fever, headaches, and weakness. If left untreated, symptoms can progress to insomnia, confusion, paralysis, and eventually death.

Instead, these are fish-flavored nuggets that have a vast broadcasting array, indicating they can draw in squirrels from really far. The Ramik diphacinone-based rodenticide is available in the kind of half-inch nuggets.

What are squirrel babies called?

Marmots, called woodchucks or groundhogs in the U.S., are much larger than their squirrel cousins. Marmots average about 2 feet long.

There are less squirrels to breed, as well as those that do produce less and smaller litters. Each female in the trash can generate one trash of young, occasionally 2, during her initial year and two trashes during yearly afterwards. For that reason, squirrel numbers https://ezlocal.com/mi/northville/pest-control/0916290277 can promptly escalate when food supplies are great. Gray squirrels and also fox squirrels occur throughout much of the UNITED STATE

The strength versus durable squirrels and rats is impressive as well as in my point of view worth the premium cost. An additional Bell special is the Bell Final Blocks Rodenticide. These lure chunks were established to attend to larger rats such as grown-up squirrels. The lures are larger, longer, and have superior moisture resistance in addition to good mold resistance.

Because their numbers far exceed the number of killers, squirrels are plentiful in the wild. The large populace as well as decreasing all-natural habitat as a result of construction in several areas create them to seek sanctuary in houses. The freezing months of autumn as well as winter season create squirrels to look for the heat that is located in attics.

My squirrels like yellow squash, broccoli, grapes, watermelon, carrots, cantelope, peas as well as apples. We go easy on the fruit, because many of them will obstruct calcium absorption. Yet, a bit each day "rounds-out" their nutritional needs. If you take pleasure in feeding squirrels whether in your yard or the general public, make sure you do not feed them any sweet of any kind of type, particularly delicious chocolate.

The gray squirrel is one of the most typical structure-infesting squirrel species. Individuals food is not good for wild animals consisting of squirrels. These have little or no dietary value to the wildlife and also can result in lack of nutrition, conditions and also defects. If you enjoy pets however it is not always the best idea, Feeding squirrels might come normally.

[ilopisara]

27.03. 21:46 | Ilo Pisara vs Mullin Portaat 0 - 2

Ah, the latest spectacle on ice featuring our beloved Ilo Pisara ended in a 0-2 defeat against Mullin Portaat. Let's dissect this frosty debacle with the precision of a Zamboni shaving ice. First off, "VETOJA HYVÄT HERRAT!" - shots gentlemen! With only 15 attempts at goal compared to Mullin Portaat’s 17, it seems like our strategy was more about making snow angels than scoring goals. Teppo Winnipeg managed to hit the net twice out of five tries; not bad for someone who seemed confused whether he was playing hockey or hide and seek with the puck. Macho Fantastico lived up to half his name with eight shots on target from nine attempts – fantastico indeed! But where was the macho in finishing? Jani Saari... oh dear, giving away pucks like they were going out of fashion but still managed four shots; guess even a blind squirrel finds a nut occasionally. After recent performances ranging from heroic victories to face-palming defeats (I'm looking at you, loss against Instigators hc), this game felt like we decided to take inspiration from Icarus and flew too close to mediocrity. Gentlemen, let's remember: hockey sticks are for shooting pucks into nets, not conducting orchestras that play symphonies of misses. Onward and upward—I expect us all back at practice aiming for something other than becoming professional figure skaters without grace.

[lowat-golden-tower]

Out on a Limb

OKAY OKAY HERE YOU GO, THE DOCTOR FOUND HIM, DON’T KILL ME!

lol everyone was so upset and crying for the doctor i felt like if i didn’t post his chapter next i’d be needing one myself

Luckily, I planned it to be just so! :D See @alcordraws, @angstphilosophy, your boy is gonna be juuuuust fine...

Maybe.

AO3 Mirror

Chapter 10: blood and nuts

are you guys sick of my sick puns yet or what

Dr. Iplier was accustomed to being one of the first awake in the morning. He had patients to tend to, after all, but on top of that he just didn't tend to get a lot of sleep in general. If the work didn't keep him up, the caffeine did, and he was currently in search of more.

There were few egos he chanced running into on his way to the break room. Host, occasionally, whose sleeping habits were possibly worse. However, he tended to stay in his library. Ed, perhaps, if he was headed off on an early fishing or hunting venture. He might come across Wilford, hyped on his own self-created sugar and doing Gods knew what at five in the morning. The rest of their odd cadre tended to sleep for at least another few hours- or, "charge," in the Googles' case.

Thus he was surprised when he heard a steady pounding. After rounding a corner to find blood, he was stunned even further. Not that blood was a rare sighting for him or in Egos, Inc. in general. He just hadn't been expecting it quite so early. He needed his morning coffee.

Sighing heavily and wondering what insanity had occurred now, Dr. Iplier rubbed harshly at his forehead. Coffee first, then the mysterious banging, then the blood stains. Priorities set, he ignored the pounding on wood in favor of brewing a fresh pot. Spying more streaks of blood on the cupboard handles didn't exactly encourage his optimism about the situation. That probably meant it was an ego bleeding all over the floors.

Dr. Iplier would like to believe the egos would come immediately to his clinic for medical attention if the need arose, but he wasn't so naive. Pride or foolishness or the sheer stubborn nature they all inherited from Mark kept them away more often than not, until they were found on the floor or Dr. Iplier dragged them to a hospital bed. Still, if the blood was everywhere, it was likely one of the more reckless or careless egos. Wilford? No need to be concerned, then. Silver? That could be bad. Dr. Iplier should probably be putting forth a more concerted effort with looking into this.

Well, the pounding was a good start. Stifling a yawn, Dr. Iplier wandered back out to the hall, following the sound to a broom closet. As he drew closer, he realized someone was speaking. The words were muffled, near drowned out by the fists slamming against wood. Blood coated the door and the floor here as well. Hesitantly, he leaned in, hoping to get a better listen.

"...out... let... please... out... I don't... it... please... dark... breathe... out... hate...."

Dr. Iplier frowned. "Hello? Who's in there? Are you alright? There's blood-"

As if rousing a slumbering beast, the pounding on the door abruptly escalated. The hinges rattled and Dr. Iplier leaped back in shock, gasping. He cursed as coffee spilled over his arm and the front of his coat. Still, the door handle jiggled, and then the voice that had been muttering rose to a fever pitched scream.

"LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! WHO'S THERE?! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU! I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS! STAB YOU IN THE HEART! TEAR OUT YOUR EYES! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!" The words were punctuated with another shrill scream and a hearty slam against the door.

Dr. Iplier's breath caught in his throat. For a second, he feared the door would give, but by some miracle it held and he released the breath in relief. Yandere. It was Yandere behind the door. That explained all the blood. Yet, the question remained, who was the injured ego? Of course there was a possibility someone had simply locked a bloodied Yandere in the closet, but the circumstances were nagging at him. Something just wasn't right.

Unfortunately, Yandere was unlikely to give him any answers, even if he wasn't so incensed. No, he wasn't opening that door any time soon. He'd ask one of the more powerful egos to do it later. Dark or Wilford or a Google. He didn't even speak for fear of egging on Yandere's bloodlust. He merely turned and walked away.

Well, seeing as the noise was a dead end, that left Dr. Iplier with only one other option. Follow the trail. If it led off the grounds, then it probably did belong to Yandere after all. Or whichever poor soul had attempted to seek medical attention. Certainly not an ego, in that case.

The trail did lead outside. However, it cut straight through the parking lot onto the lawn. There, it stopped in front of a walnut tree. A specific walnut tree that had been causing quite a ruckus amidst the egos lately. The first thing Dr. Iplier spied was the freshly carved heart. The second was more blood on the trunk; the branches. It led up. Whoever was bleeding, they climbed this tree, unorthodox as the concept sounded in his head.

There was only one ego who would climb a tree while bleeding so heavily he tracked enough blood to kill a normal human.

"King?" Dr. Iplier called up, lifting his gaze to the boughs. The morning light was still weak and the shadows cast by the leaves were heavy. It was impossible to tell if anything was actually up there. "King, are you there? King!"

Initially, there was no response. Yet just as Dr. Iplier was preparing to call up once more, there was movement on one of the lower branches. He thought it might be the ego, but instead the fuzzy head of a squirrel popped into view. He sighed heavily. "Are you a regular squirrel or are you one of his-" He stopped mid-sentence as something caught his eye. Dr. Iplier squinted. "Is that... blood?" It was difficult to see, but there was no mistaking it. That was red streaked through the squirrel's chestnut fur.

"King!" Rapidly, Dr. Iplier's mind put together the pieces. Yandere had "attacked" King's tree, he'd attempted to defend his grounds, and Yandere had stabbed him. Somehow, King must have trapped Yandere in the closet. Dr. Iplier couldn't fathom how, but if he'd gotten back into the tree, that at least meant he might still be alive. His tone became more concerned and frantic. "King! King! King, I know you're up there! Say something!" God help him if he had to attempt climbing this tree. He was a doctor, not a lumberjack.

Eventually, with much coaxing, a mop of black hair and gooey tan beard appeared through the foliage above. Dr. Iplier had to perform a double take. Without his crown, even with the peanut butter smeared onto his face, King looked remarkably like... well, Mark. He supposed he had forgotten, what with King prancing around in his "royal regalia" all the time.

"Doctor... what do you want? It's too early. I was asleep." King let loose a massive yawn as if to emphasize his words. However, Dr. Iplier wasn't blind. Physical details were his specialty- a necessity, when one happened to be a doctor. He recognized the unhealthy pallor to King's cheeks, the heavy bags beneath his eyes and how bloodshot they were. There was also dried blood spotting his forehead and dark bangs. As if he needed further confirmation of who the victim was.

"King, you're dying." When he only received a blank stare in response, Dr. Iplier sighed again. Old habits. "Or, you probably will be, if you don't let me get a look at that wound. I found Yandere. I don't know how you managed it, but I know locking him away didn't leave you unscathed. Come down here and let me see it."

King, realizing he was being called out, tensed. He retreated back into the shadows some and shook his head. "No."

That caused Dr. Iplier to sputter. "No? What do you mean, "no?" Why didn't you come straight to my clinic in the first place? You're not..." He paused, re-thinking his claim of King not being stupid. "...you're smarter than this. You've never hesitated to come to me about an injury before."

King merely shook his head again, though now Dr. Iplier could see the pain in his eyes. Being up and about must be stressing his injury. "No. I can't. If I come down, you'll take me to your clinic, and then I'll be stuck there. I'm not going. They need me."

"Need you? Who? The squirrels?" Belatedly, Dr. Iplier's mind recalled the gossip and small talk circulating around Egos, Inc. the past few days. Stories of squirrel attacks and raining walnuts and all manner of lunacy. King was defending something in the tree, but Dr. Iplier had never actually caught wind of what it was. He didn't want to leave it. "Don't be ridiculous. Yes- I know, that's hard for you. But you're hurt. You need to come with me to the clinic, King. I won't take no for an answer."

"Well too bad. You're just gonna have to make me." King huffed like a stubborn child. He receded back into his kingdom without another word. The squirrels which had gathered during the exchange, however, remained. The way they watched Dr. Iplier made him second guess his ideas to scale the tree.

No, he needed some muscle for this. He needed an ego who would not only listen to him, but be willing to help. An ego who wouldn't be harmed by vicious, defensive squirrels. An ego who could climb the tree in record time and achieve the stubborn ego within without killing him.

Or, more precisely, several egos.

Seemed it was time for Dr. Iplier to go fetch The Googs.

[themfp1]

AOC, Tlaib, and Omar May Be a Triumvirate of Idiocy, But Every Conservative's Best Friends

AOC, Tlaib, and Omar May Be a Triumvirate of Idiocy, But Every Conservative’s Best Friends

By:                     Paul Curry

Vladimir Lenin once proclaimed, “Show me who your friends are, and I will tell you what you are.” Perhaps in this day of Russian hoax hysteria, quoting a devout socialist dictator may seem a bit, unnecessarily dramatic. But even as a blind squirrel will find the occasional nut, old Vlad had an…

[uncarvedbones]

I met a (self-imposed) deadline, proving the old adage that even a blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut. https://www.instagram.com/p/Bw0Um4jnxkc/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=3227ou8zebn9

[cat-invasion-leader]

Y'know, this reminds me of a saying that works perfectly here.

"Even a blind squirrel occasionally finds a nut."

alright I don’t know what your opinions are on this, but yall know how donald trump is allegedly pushing for pharmaceutical transparency. uhh you can read about it here

anyway, trump is saying pharmaceutical companies should list the price of their meds in their commercials and of course the CEOs are like “uhm thats a bad idea” but I don’t know yall, to me this sounds like a pretty good idea

the CEOs reasons are all bullshit:

1) “not sufficient” does not me “we should not do this” 2) this is being pushed because insurance companies were charging people more money in their copay than for the fucking medication itself you can read about that here  3) insurances do not have to dictate out of pocket cost when the copay is higher than the fucking price of the medication 4) people already think medications are too fucking expensive for them to try what goddamn planet is this person living on. people are already goddamn discouraged.  I just want to know what your opinions are on this, given where the initial push is coming from [trump] because i don’t know from the outside looking in this sounds like a good idea? what am I missing?

I’m thinking it’s all lip service because the companies are literally just straight up saying they’re not going to do it anyway

[totalconservative]

New Post has been published on Total Conservative News

New Post has been published on http://totalconservative.com/don-lemon-we-must-restore-mount-rushmore-by-adding-obama-to-it/

Don Lemon: We Must Restore Mount Rushmore By Adding Obama to It

In 2018, President Trump bestowed CNN anchor Don Lemon with the dubious distinction of being “the dumbest man on television.” In the ensuing years, Lemon has apparently embraced this honor, because he strives to prove the theory true each and every night on his program.

However, in this case, Lemon may actually be ahead of his time. Because we can guarantee that this will not be the last time we hear about the prospect of adding Barack Obama to Mount Rushmore.

In a discussion about a California couple who have been, absurdly, charged with a hate crime for painting over a Black Lives Matter mural, Lemon and fellow CNN host Chris Cuomo began talking about the conservative media.

“You see the right-wing machine kick in, media kick in and see Trump’s poll numbers go south,” Lemon said. “They kick in with Democratic cities are in chaos right now. Is this what you want from Joe Biden? And they are taking your country away sand they are going to take down statues. Crime is rising. It’s so bad. Oh my, defund police. And the people who you saw there for the most part —not specifically, as a whole, fall for it. They fall for it. That’s why they do things like that. They want to paint over signs and think ‘it’s our country. This is the country that we built.’ Even though a rich diversity of people helped build the country, and many of us, meaning ancestors, for free — did not get paid for it, could not get an education, could not build wealth, are not on statues, Confederate or otherwise, are not on Mount Rushmore.”

There’s a lot to unpack in that stream-of-consciousness flow, but we’re not sure it’s really worth any particular analysis. We only included it to show that, yes, Lemon is still very much in the running for the “dumbest man on TV” award. Blaming “right-wing media” for getting Americans concerned about the Defund the Police movement? “They fall for it”? Uh, Don…it’s actually happening. Not really sure what to tell you.

Anyway, as a blind squirrel will occasionally find a nut, Lemon broke away from his nonsensical rant to say: “I think, listen … if they are going to put someone on Mount Rushmore, considering the history of the country, the first black president should be front and center.”

“Add to Mount Rushmore,” mused Cuomo (who is also in contention for that DMOTV award). “I think that’s first of all, it’s a more salable idea than the idea of taking away Founding Fathers.”

Well, maybe it is. Maybe it is. As much as it would hurt us to see Obama’s lamentable presidency celebrated on the same mountain that pays tribute to those four great men, we kinda get the sense of it. Say what you will about ol’ Barry – and there’s plenty to say – he was the nation’s first black president. First foreign one, too.

We kid, we kid.

If it comes down to a choice between destroying Rushmore and adding Obama…well…

Except, come to think of it, isn’t the big problem with Mount Rushmore that it was built on land supposedly claimed by the South Dakota Indian tribes? Does adding Obama relieve that injustice?

Furthermore, in 2016, Obama said this: “The overwhelming majority of police officers do an incredibly hard and dangerous job fairly and professionally. When anyone, no matter how good their intentions may be, paints all police as biased or bigoted, we undermine those officers we depend on for our safety.”

With statements like this in his presidential past, how long until #44 gets “canceled” along with the rest of the presidents on that monument?

Maybe we should put a hold on the chisels until we see how all of this plays out.