#you entropy be medically honest and you’re he one that has to live with the pain

[reasonreblogs]

If your back did/does hurt, advocate for yourself. Don’t let anyone ignore it hurts, if they say you’re too young, say “then shouldn’t that make this pain more of a concern?” because if you have back pain at a young age or symptoms you “shouldn’t have” then that’s *precisely* why it’s worrying and should be checked. I’ve had this as a hypothetical conversation because my mom had said “too young” before and when I framed it that way, she admitted that it was absolutely a very good point.

Though I will say: As someone whose back did hurt, get properly sized for a bra (obv if you wear one). You’ll be surprised by the actual instant relief leaving the store in a properly fitted bra (I almost cried).

Also I recommend working on your core strength, your lower back muscles might be what you’re using to keep yourself upright and working the lower abs and quads helps counter that and takes the stress off your lower back (sit in a chair that doesn’t rock with a solid back), lean back, and march your legs in place is the exercise I was given and it’s been perfect). Don’t go 32 years of that before correcting it, it actually sucks if walking puts you in pain when it didn’t ever have to. Sometimes you feel cheated over a simple solution when it’s like my issue but it just means you at east have a tangible solution, even if it comes later than you like.

why am i nostalgic for my teenage years bitch i didnt even have fun !!!

[phoenixfire-thewizardgoddess]

TF2 Fic: Responsibility Weighs More Than Dog Tags

...so, I started writing an idea before last Halloween, intended to be posted on the day. Except I lost my spark of creativity for a while... therefore there’s been three unedited chapters of what’s going to be a long-ass fic, floating about on my computer since then. Here is chapter one of a kid-merc fic. Soon to be edited and completed.

- - - - 

Chapter 1: Dear Ma, I regret Everything I’ve Ever Done…  

.

In every facet of his life, Scout could honestly say that some form of absolute chaos was the norm. That wasn’t even bein’ dramatic, it was stating a fact, plain an’ simple. At first, the runner found himself one of seven boys born to a woman with an iron-clad constitution, and the ability to quell their shenanigans with a single gesture.

Now? He’s one of nine skilled mercenaries; surrounded day and night by men from all walks of life, who are way crazier than he’ll ever freaking be. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself.

Easier ta think you’re the pinnacle of mental health about these parts when compared against a guy who throws his piss at people for laughs, a dude who never takes off his balaclava even when showering, a medical professional who lets his freaking pets play in the patients, and a certain military-minded someone who uses a fuckin’ rocket launcher for transport.

But that’s the thing, ain’t it? It’s one thing to be a faction of the entropy, to feast on the chaos swirling around -embody one of the deadly sins if ya wanted to get all met-a-phorical and shit- but it’s something else entirely ta be the poor sucker tryin’ ta control it.

He has no idea whatsoever how his Ma did it all those years; with the lot of her rag-tag rebellious boys and their crazy ways. To be honest, he’d downright sell his soul fer an insight inta how she’d done it all’a this time; but he can’t, pretty sure the confidentiality clause in the contract Miss P had’em all sign right at the beginning covered even these weird-as-hell events.

Looks like he was just gonna have ta deal with this by himself.

Something exploded two feet from the runner’s left ear, shattering a wall and setting nearby furniture on fire; forcing the young man to jerk his head from the cradle of his hands, and glare across the table at the current cause of the chaos. A handful of his teammates glared back, some wearing expressions of innocence, and others grinned in unbridled glee at the destruction.

With a sigh of exasperated frustration, Scout slams his hands on the table and shoves his seat out as he stands. “Alright, an’ I can’t freakin’ believe these words’a comin outta my mouth right now just so ya know, I’m givin’ ya ten seconds ta own up ta nearly blasting me through respawn for the third time ta-day, or ya all going on time-out.”

He crosses his arms, making a vague note that he needs to switch out the bandages at some point, because there’s an alarming amount of jam smeared across the back of his right hand.

They ain’t budging. The Scout shoves down a smirk and adopts the most serious frown he can muster given the circumstances; he can’t quite go ‘full Medic’ when it comes ta disappointed faces, but he’s somewhere close on the spectrum.

“Alright, ya asked fer it…” He sighs. “Ten… Nine… Eight…”  

The way the present classes scrabbled in panic was sorta, how would Spy put it? Delicious, maybe? Hilarious, too.

“Seven… Six… Five, I ain’t kidding, y’better fess up soon guys… Four…”

Somehow he kept up a stern expression as fingers started pointin’ every which way, firing blame like this was a Sudden Death match fer a new hat drop, and friendly fire was off. Yeah, just like home, then.

“Three… Two… One an’ three-quarters… One ‘n a half… One ‘n a quarter…”

Soldier leapt forwards, nearly taking out Demo, who’d been helping him hold the incriminating launcher steady while firing. “I FIRED AT YOU FOR THE SAKE OF AMERICA… AND COOKIES!”

“Oh really? Cookies, huh? Ya know who gets ‘em?” he asks, smugly, at their confused expressions. “People who don’t go firing freakin’ weapons at their teammates, chucklenu-... er, trucks. And maybe if yer gimme the bazooka, ‘n go wash yer hands, we’ll talk about cookies fer dessert, alright?”

Never before in living memory had one of the REDs relinquished control of one of their weapons so fast, even ta a teammate. Demo and Solly racing one another outta the room to wash their hands… anything ta get one of the cookies Scout’s Ma’d sent that mornin’ in the mail. Heh, she’d made ‘em inta little ghosts ‘n shit, tryin’ ta be ‘spooky’ ta fit in with the whole Halloween theme’a things. Ironic, really, considerin’ that was half the reason this crazy shit was going down.

But on the other hand, they were excellent fer coercin’ ya team inta completin’ tasks that needed doing.

RED Scout didn’t even get ta blink before the twin terrors were back infront’a him, hands out fer inspection ta show that yeah, they were definitely clean.

“Ya promise not ta blow anymore shi-... er, stuff up?” He asks, heading to the kitchen to grab the jar of baked goods the rest’a the team were hankering after.

“WE PROMISE NOT TO USE THE ROCKET LAUNCHER AGAIN!” shouted Solly, saluting. Demo copying, trying not ta giggle as the pair shot suspicious looks between ‘em.

Scout paused. “Oi, y’might think yer being clever, but ‘m not an idiot guys. There were seven of us at home, y’think I can’t see the loophole in that statement… think again. Promise ya won’t go snatchin’ up the weapons I took away from ya ta keep ya idiots safe, an’ ya can have a freakin’ cookie.”

“Oh aye, we promise al’right?” grumbles the Demo, glaring with his one good eye.

Not being a complete fool, Scout knows the two’re gonna find a way around the whole ‘Don’t Blow Shit Up’ rule, but hey, he’ll burn that bridge when they get ta it. Or, y’know, however that saying goes.

“Yeah, fine, good enough fer now. Ya can have one,” he stresses the word, while offering the jar to ‘em. “But don’t go runnin’ off, ‘cause it’s almost dinner, an’ if I have ta come catch ya, it ain’t gonna be fun fer any of us.”

The pair nod solemnly, and it’s real hard to take ‘em serious when Solly’s helmet falls over his eyes like that. If only Spy hadn’t stolen his camera last week, this could be freakin’ hilarious blackmail.

An’ also proof it happened. Y’know, for when he managed ta change’em back ta normal.

Fuckin’ Merasmus.

                                                              -)0(-

TBC.

[ethelbertpaul444-blog]

5 Ways Being Rich Was Flat-Out Crazy Hundreds Of Years Ago

Sure, being rich has its benefits, but it’s am going to be boring, right? If life’s huge necessitate are from battle and solidarity against overwhelming quirkies, then being rich is playing on easy state( with the invincibility and infinite ammo cheats on ). Where’s the enjoyable? Well, we aren’t the first ones to ask that investigate. The historical experiences shows that the old-timey rich, in their struggle to fend off ennui and entropy, lay some singularly comical ways and means of move the time. Like how … 5 You Could Improve Your Sex Drive By Implanting Radioactive Material Up Your Butt Sexual impotence isn’t a modern phenomenon. Your great-grandparents maybe had “performance editions, ” just like you( and if you didn’t, you do now that we positioned that mental image in your pate ). So how did they inhibit the long quit? We can’t are talking about the poorest of the poor and how they dealt with “losing ones” verve( wishing really hard, maybe ), but the rich had a little proficiency called “jamming in a radium suppository.” Vita Note the entirely unrelated item that it’s “also splendid for pilings and rectal sores.” div > Read Next 5 Random Things You Had No Idea Had Tons Of Love Overseas At the grow of the 20 th century, an part industry revolving around solving sexual imperfection formed up, so to speak. One of these products was Vita Radium Suppositories, anal submarines “carried in a cocoa butter base”( for better … spice ?) which promised to turn “weakened organs” into Godzilla by irradiating the bloodstream, and by proxy the chunks. What about refuge? Well, the manufacturers had certainly heard about that abstraction. Harmonizing to their marketing folders, the radium would leave the patient’s arrangement in three days, which is approximately two days, 23 hours, 59 minutes, and 59 seconds longer than we’d like. The 1930 s viewed the exhaust of a product with the seducing honour of “Scrotal Radiendocrinator, ” which promised users they could kick-start their shattered scrotums by leaving a radium-filled jockstrap on their garbage and going to bed. We can’t wholly vouch for the scienceness of such products, but it’s worth noting that its inventor died from bladder cancer — a total coincidence, and definitely not a warning that maybe Geiger counters shouldn’t need to be sold in adult emporia alongside battery-operated gender dolls and blow-up representations of Clark Gable. The Home Products Co. Denver, CO Why does the term “plutonium rod” seem apt? There was, surprisingly, a solid motivation behind the madness. At this moment, the technical finding of the working day was that hot springs, which it was claimed could medicine afflictions, were radioactive. Instead of waiting to hear more science, nonetheless, the medical-industrial complex immediately moving forward putting radium into a ton of health concoctions, including water coolers and force alcohols like RadiThor. As radium is expensive, however, exclusively the richest members of society could open to partake, and that’s why it never blew up into a bar( liter) ic state crisis. The damage was reduced to a tiny person, comprised of beings such as Eben Byers, an industrialist who downed two bottles of RadiThor every day for three years until his bones started disintegrating and he died in incalculable agony. Still, we gambled his dick examined amazing . 4 You Could Be The Envy Of Your Pals By Owning( Or Renting) Your Very Own Pineapple When “youve been” think it is right it, status badges haven’t changed that is something that from the days of yore. There “ve always been” high-end modes, big houses, fast cars( horsepower used to be less figurative ), and status foods. It’s just that in the past, did nutrients used to be less “gold-plated donuts” and “avocados, ” and more “pineapples” and “seriously, pineapples.” John Raphael Smith Hendrick Danckerts “Check out my pineapple” was an artistry progress of its own. div > For the high houses of Europe during the 1700 s, the pineapple represented the very essence of abundance. The outcomes is already exclusively found in South America, until enterprising someones in England and the Netherlands developed hothouses that allowed the growth of these elegant forces in wetter, more Europey maladies. They were still scarce, of course, and so owning one was mostly a giant signal advertise how well-to-do you two are. Repeat patrons included Louis XV, Catherine the Great, and Charles II, all of whom we’re sure requirement the help signaling their wealth. But soon, owning a pineapple wasn’t fairly. The hardcore pineapple fandom of the 1700 s meant that people did everything from outlining them on wallpaper and tablecloths, to plowing their manors in wooden and stone carvings of pineapples, to hosting dinner parties where the pineapple “wouldve been” virtuoso centerpiece. Eat it? No, you two are meant to look at it and gaze in wonder at its beautiful, and that was severely fairly. Charles II even commissioned a covering of someone handing him a pineapple. To the elite of society, pineapples were the Szechuan Sauce packets of the working day, and by Jove, woe betide your honour if you set that shit on pizza. Otter/ Wiki Commons A house, yes. A pizza , no. div > But what if you were a middle-class person or persons craved for the trappings of asset, but still wanted to write shall verify that exclusively a pineapple could currency? Well, there was also a thriving pineapple rental market. In the same behavior that celebrities lease thought tuxedos and sports cars before attending culture jamborees, it was a tend du jour to combine and cradle a pineapple in your appendages, before reverting it the next morning and trying to justify to the renter why you shouldn’t lose your security deposit because someone took a bite out of it. 3 You Could Hire An Old Person Garmented Like A Wizard To Live In Your Garden It’s easy to look at the gig economy and shake your ability at how poorly megacorporations like Uber, Amazon, and Seamless discuss their independent contractors( predict: people working independently of hire rights ), but it could be much worse. They could be living in the reasons for their Jeff Bezos’ stately possession and dressing like Gandalf. div > We’ve mentioned that in the 18 th century, it was all the rage for landowners to hire “hermits” — mostly the olden equivalent of that crazy person from the bus terminal — to rove their soils and dispense sage-green wise to anyone who walked past. But what exactly were the roles and responsibilities of this position? Chiefly sitting around and looking strange. Here’s what guests to one manor were was welcomed by when they entered the hermit’s abode TAGEND via Google Books Why is his name only Francis if he’s awake? div > In order is so that their monks didn’t expire of exposure or wild animal onrush, most owners improve them a plaza to live — anything from a shack or outhouse to an earthen hammock to a place of bogus archaic wreckings they could specter like shaggy, well-learned haunts. This might voice expensive, but it was worth it for the landowner to invest in their loner. A “good” hermit could entice tourists from miles around, delivering coin and prestige to the owned — so much so that some landowners faked the whole thing by constructing a shack, leaving some spooooky components on a counter, and pretending that their hermit had popped out to the supermarkets for the day. The trend didn’t been a long time, croaking out following the completion of the century. It’s thoughts, nonetheless, that hermits afterwards acted as the insight for your common-law garden gnomes. That’s something to think about, especially the next time your landlord or HOA bitches about your lawn embellishes. It’s either the terracotta fishermen and pink flamingos, or a hairy chap who lives in your fence exclaiming problems at passersby. 2 You Could Wear A Creepy Mask To Shun Catching A Tan, Like A Filthy Commoner If you’re rich, money can buy you a lot of things — a lot of things . i> But there’s one indispensable stuff it can’t buy: sovereignty from beings inadvertently mistaking you for a poor person. In the 16 th century, this anxiety so horribly warped the minds of the rich that they thought it was better to look like a serial killer or a monster from the void dimension than someone who has to buy the generic-brand haras inoculation. Day of Archaeology They were also willing to endure being stomped by Italian plumbers. div > This is a visard mask, bought by upper-class madams to prevent them from contracting a horrific suntan on their porcelain-white buttocks — “hideous” because in those daytimes, having a tan or even a reminder of melanin were of the view that you were one of those dreaded poverty-strickens who had to work outdoors all day. But hey, at least they suffered for it. The masks were made from velvet, silk, and mantles of pressed paper, which doesn’t sound too bad … until you realize that there was no such situation as elastic. So how was it held in place? Well, the inside of the concealment contained a glass dot hanging on a short section of fibre. In line-up ensuring the cover-up, the wearer would have to hold the ball between her teeth, thus preventing her from doing anything other than sitting there in total stillnes. Which was probably part of its pattern, to be honest. Wiki Commons “I have no mouth and I’m this close to screaming.” div > Although only a few disguises survive to this day, they were favourite enough that children’s dolls from the period emanated accessorized with miniature visard masks, so that young girls could become used to their forthcoming lives of total stillnes and casual defect. The disguises remained in vogue for most of the century before expiring out, maybe after person wondered whether they weren’t being really a little silly. 1 You Could Steal Ancient European Builds, Brick By Brick On the aspect of it, it isn’t surprising that historical rich people liked to voyage to faraway country level make whatever they wanted. That’s how we dissolved up with the slave traffic, after all. What is surprising, nonetheless, is how dumb it wound up coming. Case in time: A spate of 20th-century American moguls used to plagiarize antique structures and have them carried back home, to be reassembled brick by brick like the world’s most ostentatious planned of Legos. And too like with Legos, sometimes they’d get bored halfway through and leave the segments laying around. div > Between 1914 and 1934, it’s estimated that 20 archaic buildings happened to fall onto a back of a lorry in Europe and fall off of again where reference is stateside, in sites straddling from New York and San Francisco to Milwaukee and Philadelphia. One of the most famous crypt thiefs was sled enthusiast and original imitation word proprietor William Randolph Hearst. In 1926, he imported a 12 th-century convent, St. Bernard de Clairvaux, with plans to install it at Hearst Castle. Due to financial difficulties, nonetheless, he subsequently abandoned the portions( still in the shipping crates) in a warehouse for nearly 30 years, before person Storage Wars ‘d them and had the monastery reassembled in Miami, where most old-fashioned stuffs go to rest. RossbetReynet/ Wiki Commons Daderot/ Wiki Commons The friars inside the boxes were starting to get a little cramped. essay > As the country hardest hit by these frauds, Spain afterwards play-act various rules intended to stop rich assholes from plagiarizing their heritage, but forgot to account for the fact that money is freaking narcotic, you guys . In 1930, Hearst paid an prowes marketer $30,000 to buy, disassemble, and carry another structure — the convent of Santa Maria de Ovila. You might think that buying convents was Hearst’s way of atoning for his years of being a total shitheel, but noooo. He wanted to turn it into a literally goddamned swimming pool, complete with diving boards( situated where the altar used to sit ), changing rooms, and an indoor beach. He later wound up abandoning this project too, because he was, like, the William Randolph Worst. Adam Wears is on Twitter and Facebook , and has a newsletter about depressing record that you should definitely subscribe to . i > b> You laugh at the pineapple occasion, but have you indicated your friends how a pineapple corer labor ? i > b> Support Cracked’s journalism with a see to our Contribution Page. Please and thank you . i > b> For more courses our ancestors were utterly terrifying, check out 7 Popular Old-Timey ‘Hobbies’ That Will Give You Ordeal and 6 Fun Works That Were Shocking Throughout History . i > b> Follow us on Facebook. If you like pranks and nonsense . i > b> Read more: http :// www.cracked.com/ article_2 5562 _5-ways-being-rich-was-flat-out-crazy-hundreds-years-ago. html http://dailybuzznetwork.com/index.php/2018/06/03/5-ways-being-rich-was-flat-out-crazy-hundreds-of-years-ago/