OK, I cannot deal with the movie
How to Eat Fried Worms.
I read the book when I was a kid, fine. I probably maybe could still. But the visuals just set off my gag reflexes. When I saw the trailer in the theater, I had to close my eyes and plug my ears and hum else I lose my lunch. An ad just came on and I spend several eyewatering moments over the toilet. Didn't lose dinner, but it was close.
When did my system get so reactive?
When did my system get so reactive?
When you stopped being 12? I'm having the same reactions to the trailers. I wouldn't have blinked at that stuff when I was a kid.
I think I threw up three times (not counting spitup, and I can tell you what it was each time) until my late 20s or so. Then suddenly I got a nasty gag reflex to imagery/ideas. I'm worse in the morning. Thinking of an upset stomach will set me off. OTOH, I can eat stuff that food poisons others and I don't get ill. I don't get it.
I still don't have my Cartoon Network. However, Adult Swim makes some shows available as streaming video a few days before they're broadcast, so I can go here [link] and watch Sunday's
Venture Brothers
episode, like, right now.
Yay.
That sounds ... unpleasant, sara.
sara, I had the same reaction to the trailer. Not quite as violent, maybe, but...yeah.
nobody likes me
everybody hates me
what?!?!
I am bouncy. I should be going to bed, but no.
I have to wonder what dumbass teacher didn’t listen to their teacher’s ed profs.
It's a charter school. Which is part of what makes it so funny to me.
I work at a charter.
Sophia, I remember in Forensics in hschool (1986-90) one student did a monologue from Equus and Agnes of God monologues were popular, too.
Sometimes, you just can't tell what will set people off. I can't supply my h.s. kids with condoms any more because one parent protested...but I had 12 who told me they were grateful I was talking to their kids about sensible sexuality, 'cause they were too embarassed/awkward.
So I don't supply...but I offer a list of places they can go and get free condoms. Ah, well.
I'm glad to know I'm not alone.
Why I love my dad: after wishing him well on his drug-hunting expedition (found a plane wing on an s&r 2 week ago, local chief would rather officials find the fuselage of a likely drug plane) he tells me to go become a hitwoman for the mob. Any mob. No matter I've never shot a gun. Maybe I'll hit someone useless!
Cracks me up. May not get me, but gets how to make me laugh.