#commercial farm
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A hobby farm business can offer a reliable source of income in an increasingly expensive world. It offers a vacation for people looking to escape the weekend bustle of the city.
Real more- https://medium.com/@thecompanyvic/6-things-to-consider-before-starting-a-hobby-farm-business-fb18ed880f46
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Fields of Mistria
Release date (Steam) English (early access): August 5th, 2024
"Get ready to begin a brand-new life in a world that's brimming with possibilities!
Mistria, an idyllic village tucked between forest and sea, has offered you an overgrown but full-of-potential homestead in exchange for your assistance. Restore the town to its former glory after an earthquake wreaks havoc and strange magic begins to flow through the land.
In this spiritual successor to the Farm-Sim RPGs of the late 90s & onward, build the farm of your dreams as you discover magic, romance, and adventure!"
This is a farming sim now available in early access on Steam! You can buy it here.
#fields of mistria#npc studio#early access#farming sim#farming#steam#commercial#gxb#gxg#bi#gender choice#rpg
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Charlie Slimecicle was in a State Farm commercial.
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got ya covered if ya needed it.
here's the chair whip as a gif.
have fun. 😂
#caitlin clark#state farm#commercial#new#gif#wnba#indiana fever#meme#i will get so much use out of this
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#jeffrey dean morgan#jdmorgan#bandit#honeydog#mischief farm#wahl commercial#instagram jeffrey dean morgan#videos
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As someone who is American and still watches actual broadcast television (news, Guy Fieri...) and am suffering through another election year... I am sick to death of hearing the term "illegals." Absolutely SICK. TO. DEATH. Like, okay, I know that the southern border has issues. It's pretty much our modern day Ellis Island, with many people there escaping...some of the same kinds of issues - and others. There are people there waiting to be vetted, seeking aslyum or work. And, indeed, there are a lot of people who hop the border illegally. I used to live in Arizona, in farm country. People without legal paperwork who could be exploited were a staple of the farming industry there...unfortunately. I lost an opportunity for a job at a restaurant once because I "didn't speak enough Spanish" - code for "Our restaurant is employing people under the table for beneath minimum wage and without benefits that we can threaten to report and have deported if they speak up wanting basic workers' rights." (I came away from that particular encounter not mad at immigrants for "stealin' mah jerb!" but mad at the company / restaurant for abusive corporate practices...go fig. Guess I think differently). Even here in Pennsylvania, I've had chance encounters with people who had no papers. (People who just want to work and take care of their children). Anyway, yeah, there are processing issues and people who don't go through the legal channels because our government makes it next to impossible. But every GOD. DAMNED. TIME. I hear the term "illegals" I want to tear my hair out! Or hit people with fish! It's not only used for people who are going through the LEGAL channels (It's code for "Hispanic" basically, or just "non-white"), even people who haven't? It's a dehumanising term. That's what I take it as. "Illegals" is a term purposefully used to make people sound like something...other than people. And so I find the MAGA commercials insulting both to my intelligence and dignity. It's like, why don't you go all the way, MAGA? Why not use the really horrible slang-term I heard waaaaay, waaaay too much in my white-person childhood around Arizona redneck white people? Why not tweak your commercials and start whining about "wetbacks?" I mean, you might as well, since you term everyone "illegals." You expect us to think of people as not human. It's too late for me. I've worked with too many "illegals" in my life to think like that.
#american politics#u.s. southern border#political commercials#maga cult#here in pennsylvania I once had a farm job#where I worked with a trio of spanish-only speakers whom I was sure were paperless#we all were treated the same in the end#when the owner of the farm refused to pay us our last wages when the farm closed up#it was an under the table cash job#and I still haven't seen the 300 dollars I'm owed from back in 2007-08#I seriously was going to sue even though it would have cost me money#based on the principle#but the farm closed up and the owner vanished before I could#I wouldn't be surprised if my boss called authorities on my coworkers#I mean I'm white but poor enough to sort of been in a similar position as “illegals”#and to work alongside them#I know the abuses of businesses well#there are many people in America who just want slaves#that they can keep under threat#trust me#dehumanization#scaremongering#yeah make us afraid of our fellow humans for votes#shadsie rants
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Rodeo Tricks (scrapped)
i think i might be incapable of writing smut, because i keep trying and getting stuck just before it gets good. no clue what that's about but. okay.
ANYWAYS. this has been lying in my drafts. it's kind of a newer one in comparison, but it's been long enough since i've touched it that i'm pretty sure it's never getting finished.
enjoy :)
______________
The day is bright and warm with spring in Tulare County. Leo watches Vincent’s back shift in rhythm with his percheron’s slow, steady steps as a breeze combs through the valley. He’s been quiet, so far. Just leading them along an invisible, winding path through hills springing with golden poppies. Leo doesn’t mind too much. He hasn’t exactly known the man for long, but he’s well-enough acquainted to know he’ll speak when he needs to; as it is, he’s contented enough to watch the rocking of his hips in that sturdy Mexican saddle.
They ride for a while longer before Vincent pulls Belle to a stop beside a brook, in a relatively flat clearing. He peers at Leo as he stops beside him, a quiet smile on his lips. “Fancy yourself a showman, cowboy?”
A raised brow. “I don’t see no fuckin’ broncos out here, if that’s what you mean.”
“What, no rodeo tricks?”
“None that you ain’t already seen. ‘S not like we got time to train for that kind’a thing. We got jobs to do.”
Kalahari snorts as if to agree. Vincent clicks his tongue, more as a response than a command, but Belle starts forward, and he has to pull back gently on the reins to stop her again. Leo does not laugh.
“Real shame. I thought you might have saved something special, just for me.”
“Tell you what, granjero: we ever come back ‘round here again, and I will.”
“Always the charmer.” Vincent then directs his horse across the brook and strolls farther into the valley, his back to him once again. Leo follows. “You ever wrestle steer?”
“Well, sure. Been a while, though.”
“You remember how?”
“The basics.” He taps his heels into Kalahari’s sides and comes up to walk beside Vincent, frowning curiously. “What’s all this about?”
“I figure you could put on one performance for me, if it ain’t too much trouble.”
With a confused look, he gestures around. “With what steer?”
There’s a certain glimmer in Vincent’s eye when he meets Leo’s gaze, tightening his hold on the reins. “You can do with a substitute, can’t you?”
Through his teeth, he throws a whistle sharp enough to kill, and in the next moment he’s gone, carried on the wind. Leo blinks a few times before it clicks. The cheeky bastard.
He kicks into his horse’s sides and they race after him. Vincent is but a spot of brown and grey among miles of green and gold. From the distance comes a joyous shouting, though he has no idea what he’s saying over the roar of wind in his ears. Hais Stetson tries to fly away, so he pulls it off and slaps it on Kalahari’s thigh to urge him on.
It’s not long before he’s close enough to hear Vincent’s laughter floating on the breeze. Leo tries to get on his right side, but swears when he darts to the left. Yanks the reins to keep up. Belle is surprisingly agile for a draft horse, her rider equally deft for a farmer; but if Leo knows anything, it’s how to out-maneuver a slippery bastard, steer or otherwise. So he tightens his jaw and picks up the pace. Vincent’s quick but he knows he’s quicker. The only issue is trapping him. Rock and a hard place, or so it goes.
They get up and stick to Belle’s haunches, and surprisingly, Vincent allows it. He laughs like nothing in the world. Leo answers in kind. The glen is just a blur to his senses as they gallop on.
And suddenly he’s there, staring him in the face. Vincent only grins. This has got to be the stupidest idea he’s ever had.
Leo leaps.
He’s not sure who it is that yelps, or if it even matters. The impact of the ground jars them both, but they have no time to gather their bearings before they’re tumbling, rolling over the grass and the poppies. He reaches out to take hold of whatever he can, which turns out to be a wrist as they come to a stop. Vincent twists and kicks, bucks like a bronco. Leo wrestles them around and forces him flat on the ground, finding his other wrist and pinning them both above his head.
Vincent blinks, his eyes wide and chest heaving. Leo grins. “You’re lucky I left my lariat with the coach.”
“Is that so?” He says, sounding positively breathless.
There it is — that helpless, almost bashful look he got when he caught Leo’s eye yesterday evening. He’d offered him a drink and told him about the grain farm he labors with his brother, and Leo had told him about the other vaqueros he works with on Five Lakes Ranch a few towns farther south. They stayed and drank until the barman kicked them out. Vincent had looked at him with a quietly fond expression from atop his percheron that night, before he’d headed home. And just a few hours ago, something more hopeful as he invited Leo out for a ride.
He releases Vincent’s hands and sits up on his hips, considering the man under him.
“You wanted this to happen.”
“Clever guy,” he pants. “Or am I just that obvious?”
“You’re pretty fuckin’ obvious, granjero.”
“I guess I’ll have to find subtler tactics.” He reaches up, then, which Leo doesn’t expect, but allows. Finds a loose grip in the front of his shirt and pulls him down, all doe-eyed and cautious in that reserved way of his. Leo plants his hands on the grass either side of his head. A golden flower crumples beneath his thumb. “May I—?”
“Yes.”
And then he does.
Vincent’s mouth is already open when they connect. His lips taste like Vaseline and his tongue tastes like oranges. Stubble prickles Leo’s palm as it glides up his throat to hold his jaw, a small sigh escaping Vincent as it does. When they pull apart, he’s even more breathless than before, staring up at him with flushed cheeks and an awed expression. Leo tries not to laugh.
“That’s…”
He quirks a brow. “Good?”
A nod. “Yeah.” Vincent’s eyes dart around his face, searching for something as his brows slowly pull together. “And you’re…”
“Fantastic?”
Leo expects a laugh, or a smile, or something, but all he gets is silence as Vincent lies there and studies him, like he’s trying to find God in the work-worn lines of his face. He stares long enough that he starts to worry that was somehow the wrong thing to say, until he sits up, forcing Leo to move back and give him space.
“Leaving.”
Oh. Right.
Him and the rest of the cattlemen are leaving in the evening. Packing up and heading home. Of course, he’d like to go home; but there’s also this, here, now, and it’s making Vincent upset, and that’s the last thing he wants. He just kissed the man, for fuck’s sake. He can’t leave it there without some kind of conversation, at the very least — which is impressive, coming from him. Harv would be proud. Problem is, he hasn’t got the first clue what to say, how to make this not such a bad thing. He has to leave. Vincent is upset.
“It doesn’t— I mean, you make it sound so final, but we could— it’s not like I just… you… um. Hola.”
Leo’s train of thought comes to a stop as Vincent grips his shoulder and guides him around until he’s sitting on the grass, fitting himself neatly, perfectly, on Leo’s lap, without so much as asking. They’re close again, breathing the same breath, and he’s all flushed with this half-unsure, half-wanting look as he just hovers there. Like he’s not completely certain what to do now that he’s gotten himself here.
“Howdy,” he says as he continues to study his face, though it seems more now like he’s committing it to memory. “Figured we best… well, make the best of it. Right?”
“We can come back around. This isn’t— it doesn’t have to be forever.”
“I know. I know. But you are leaving. And I won’t see you. And I want…”
A warmth blooms in Leo’s chest as he trails off. The words don’t need to be said, not really. Still, he wants to hear them.
“What do you want, Vincent?”
The distance between them closes. It’s not much more than a peck, though Vincent lingers on his lips as if that alone will answer the question. A man of few words, or so he tries to be. And after a moment, he pulls away. Goes back to studying him. Not that he minds the attention. If there would be one reason to stay, it would be to lie under that calculating gaze for the rest of his days. And, shit, he’s not gonna think about the implications of that.
Vincent thumbs absently at the collar of Leo’s shirt and finally focuses on his eyes. “I want you. If I can have you. If you’ll let me.”
It sounds almost like he’s asking a different question, though Leo would probably say ‘yes’ to whatever came out of his mouth, proposition or otherwise.
“I think I can do that,” he says, unable to stop the lopsided smile that pulls at his lips. He gets a bright smile in return, and that’s all it takes.
This time, he pulls Vincent down, pushing eagerly into the heat of his mouth. Vincent opens up easily.
fin.
#LISTEN. if hazelight can make leo white then i can make him mexican#it's fair game!!!#i'd hoped to put this on the archive and one of the tags was going to be:#'pretending the mechanization and commercialization of farming in the late-17th century mid/western united states doesn’t exist so that my#boys can fuck in peace'#BUT i'm incapable of writing them fucking apparently so. it's not wholly relevant anymore#still. i thought it was funny#that's probably just me though#a way out#scrapped#velvet writes
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whoa. dani rojas jumpscare
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photoshop is so fun i love playing with pngs and layers
#i am using it for evil tho.#nancy are barb angst bc. of course.#it’s just gonna be stupidly nerdy i think#anyways have y’all seen that commercial WHERE SHANNON PURSER AS BARB IS TALKING ABT LIKE FARMING AND SHIT
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Obligatory disclaimer that I don't think this is gospel or that the complaints aren't valid bc they are and I will probably continue to complain myself, this is just me spitting into the void a few minutes after waking up while I wait for my coffee to be done. But. I sometimes suspect that a lot of people who complain about the quality of cultural media these days, e.g. movies and books etc, need to just like. Learn how to find the good shit. Is the sequel-and-rebootification bad for film culture as a whole? Yes obviously. Is the tiktokization of a lot of pop music bad for music culture as a whole? Obviously yes. However. Have you considered watching/listening to/reading something that wasn't written in a year starting with a 20? Has it occurred to you that maybe ""booktok"" is not only whatever the first person you see when you search #booktok on the app says? And that there are many people talking about all kind of excellent new releases that show there are plenty of books with literary merit still being written? Published even?
Perfectly valid complaint to be angry about the way arts and media have devolved into Content but I also think some of you are just bad at finding new stuff so you keep reconsuming the same things over and over and talking about how nothing meaningful has ever been made in the last decade.
#disgruntled octopus#maybe this is the anarchist in me but i find it frustrating to only see criticisms with no effort being put in#to build up artists who ARE trying to combat the problem#or at the very least explore the past instead of relying solely on new releases that you can see in theaters/concert/etc#this is not abt mutuals or anyone btw like this was inspired by multiple things but mostly just my lil brain first thing in the morning#and the episode of Teacup Demagogues i was listening to#TD is hosted by a tiktoker i like who recommends 'new music for old heads' and she was talking abt this exact phenomenon#ppl in her comments will be like 'no good music is made anymore' and then her whole channel is just abt sharing new(er) releases#that are likely to be enjoyed by people who like old(er) music#like. her channel is right there. you're commenting on it. there is good shit being put out you just ignore it or dont try to find it#''''everything is so commercial and soulless these days 😤😤😤''''#meanwhile they refuse to seek out anyone with less than 100k monthly listeners on spotify#or read self-pub or indie press books#or watch people's passion projects on youtube#nevermind shit being released by small indie studios#''''games are just data farming flashes in the pan made by artistic sweatshops'''' but they wont download a single indie game on steam#like. again. valid complaint overall and i am going to say that shit myself at times.#but. very frustrating counterphenomena
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"Factory Farming: Cruelty Impacting Humans, Animals, and the Planet"
Factory farming, the industrialized production of livestock, has dire consequences for humans, animals, and the planet. For animals, it means a life of suffering in overcrowded, unsanitary conditions, often without access to natural behaviors or environments. Chickens, pigs, and cows endure unimaginable stress, injuries, and premature deaths, all for the sake of maximizing efficiency and profit.
For humans, factory farming poses significant health risks. The overuse of antibiotics in livestock to promote growth and prevent disease leads to antibiotic-resistant bacteria, posing a serious threat to public health. Workers in these facilities face dangerous conditions, exposure to harmful chemicals, and exploitative labor practices. Furthermore, communities near factory farms suffer from polluted air and water, leading to respiratory problems and other health issues.
Environmentally, factory farming is a major contributor to climate change, deforestation, and biodiversity loss. It generates large amounts of greenhouse gases, particularly methane from cattle, which significantly impacts global warming. Additionally, the industry consumes vast quantities of water and contributes to soil degradation and water pollution through runoff of animal waste and chemicals.
In summary, factory farming's quest for profit comes at an enormous cost to animal welfare, human health, and the environment. Sustainable and humane alternatives are essential for a healthier, more ethical future.
#Milk production abuse#Aquaculture cruelty#Duckling farming suffering#Commercial fishing cruelty#Pig slaughterhouse suffering#Confined chicken abuse#Beef cow mistreatment#Bycatch cruelty#Duck farming suffering#Industrial fishing brutality#Piglet crate abuse#Free-range eggs cruelty#Dairy cow exploitation#Farmed fish suffering#Duckling farming cruelty#Sustainable fishing cruelty#Piglet factory farming#Ethical chicken farming#Grass-fed beef cruelty#Marine bycatch suffering#Duckling farming abuse#Piglet confinement suffering#Organic dairy cruelty
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6 Things to Consider Before Starting a Hobby Farm Business
A hobby farm business can offer a reliable source of income in an increasingly expensive world. It offers a vacation for people looking to escape the weekend bustle of the city.
Real more- https://medium.com/@thecompanyvic/6-things-to-consider-before-starting-a-hobby-farm-business-fb18ed880f46
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Story of Seasons: Pioneers of Olive Town (牧場物語 オリーブタウンと希望の大地)
Release dates (Nintendo Switch, PS4, Steam) Japanese: February 25th, 2021 English: March 23rd, 2021
"Inspired by tales of their grandfather's pioneering days, the protagonist decides to pack their bags and leave the hustle and bustle of big city life for the frontier in Olive Town.
When they arrive, they run into Victor, the town's mayor and their grandfather's old friend. He brings them to the old farm, which has been reclaimed by nature over the years. Determined to breathe life back into their grandfather's dream and follow in his footsteps, the protagonist rolls up their sleeves and gets to work.
Olive Town—which is just a stone's throw away from the farm—is a port town built on the tip of a peninsula. It might be a quiet little town, but it is home to a whole host of unique characters. And while the townsfolk get by well enough in this picturesque seaside locale, a little more tourism never hurt anyone..."
This is a commercial farming sim with romance elements! You can buy the physical version here, or the digital version here.
#story of seasons#story of seasons pioneers of olive town#harvest moon#farming#rpg#gender choice#gxb#commercial#nintendo switch#steam#ps4#gxg#bi
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My husband and me talking about Travis Kelce's State Farm commercial
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yall what is it with content farms targeting flfverse i just got another one. which is like three or four times now. i know they’re not reading it they’re just looking for longfics with specific tags (i suspect it’s deku’s character tag lmao) but like….you’re not even gonna screen a little bit?
actually one of them did take and post Cross the Line and i believe that channel got nuked because i can’t find it now (i did contact youtube about it, they never got back to me) which is so. interesting. to see alongside the usual content farm fare.
i’m not even mad about the theft you guys what makes me the most mad is how soulless and automated it all is. leave my fics out of that nonsense
#wren.txt#anyway today’s made the mistake of saying the channel would be monetized so i smashed that abuse report for commercial promotion#and for spam obviously#i want that account NUKED#yall once you realize how many content farms there are and how obviously none of them use real titles so its basically impossible to#keep track of them or discover your fics being there unless they comment on your fic or someone else finds them#tiring bro. and they just get nuked and remake
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i went for a walk with my mom this morning. she told me stories about the tornado that tore up dunwoody twenty five years ago and how every guy in a twenty mile radius with a chainsaw drove over there and went ham on fallen trees for a week like it was some kind of theme park for frustrated suburban lumberjacks
#why the last snow on earth may be red#homesickness#when he paused at the end of a joke#mason jars#mid century middens#abandoned farms#river weed#found a cooler full of beer lost in the bushes by the river#pandemic era#fourth spring#i don't know how but they found me#coming out of the dryer vent by my open bedroom window#my neighbor's fabric softener smells like the soundtrack for a pharmaceuticals commercial
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