My mom swears that she was driving home one night with her cousin in the 70s and their car started floating 6+ feet off of the ground. She also swears it wasn’t at all drug-related. I think my mom has forgotten just how many drugs they were doing in the 70s.
I googled “eldridge horror” and I’m enjoying all of the posts that meant to say eldritch. Though I suppose if you don’t read Lovecraft or partake in nerdom, eldritch isn’t exactly an everyday word, and I can see how it could be misheard.
Also fucking brilliant if intentional here. That gentleman is absolutely one Lord Eldridge, if I’ve ever seen one.
Native: “Tunga m’matwa?” (what the fuck is that?)
Dandy: “My dear savage, you look upon the esteemed Lord Eldridge of Banglesbury!”
Native: “Noka wat’ay?” (why does he look like that?)
Dandy: “My good savage, I’ve no idea what ever the fuck you’re saying.”
Holy shit. Alright, so naturally I have to ask if it's possible to eat just what you need to survive and still remain somewhat healthy. Or are you slowly withering at this point? What's the middle-ground here? How long can a person survive on just the bare minimum before their body becomes too weak?
I don’t honestly know why it feels so weird. I guess maybe because it feels a little self-serving and silly. Like, asking for a massage serves a function to relieve muscle tension. But asking for stimulating tickles on my arm makes me feel self-conscious for some reason.