@dual_sport_dork@lemmy.world knows some shit yo

High quality post 👍

I too have a chicken-kicking story. Posting now so’s I’ll remember to write it out later.

It was precisely like a bad, dirty paper cut that stank of fish munge.

Haven’t seen it mentioned here, so a word to the wise: their beaks are somewhere sharp-edged, and if you were to grasp the beak and your hand were to slide lengthwise (towards or away from the tip), you could sustain a nasty cut.

Source: adolescent me harassing pelicans that were a lil too inquisitive about my days’ fishing catch on a dock somewhere near Cedar Key, FL.

This right here. I’ve known two drivers with this exact habit. Spectacularly infuriating.

Just let me out right here. I’ll walk.

Mrs. Ersatz86, native Spanish speaker with (normally) great English skills, to our daughter and I:

Wait, you guys went to the pub without me?

Me: Well, you were at yoga.

Mrs. Ersatz86: Did you at least stop at the liquor store?

Me: Sure did!

Mrs. Ersatz86: Well where’s the booze? What am I, shoplifter?

Me: … blinks…

Me: do you mean “chopped liver”?

Pandemonium.

Heh. I know a Misty Hyman, who achieved some notoriety as an athlete (swimmer).

It is difficult to say or even think of her name with a straight face.