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No, YOU’RE The [Anti-Woman Slur]: A Manosphere Debate [NOW WITH TRANSCRIPT]

Today, some comedy, in the form of an 8 minute excerpt from what was apparently an hour-and-a-half “debate” between John “The Other” Hembling, noted Men’s Human Rights Activist from A Voice For Human Men, and some dude from Manhood Academy, a Men’s Rights site that’s actually a teensy bit more obnoxious than AVFM, although in a much less interesting way.

It’s NSFW, unless you’re wearing headphones, due to salty language and near-constant anti-woman slurs.

In case you haven’t listened to enough of  JohnTheOther to instantly recognize his irritating voice, he is — uncharacteristically — the quieter of the two, er, debaters here, and a little bit on the defensive.

Thanks to the intrepid work of new commenter Thal, we now have a transcript!

MA: You were threatening to rage-quit like a—
JTO: So here’s my an—here we go, ready? Ready for the answer?
MA: You were threatening to rage quit like a timid little b*tch.
JTO: Stick something in your mouth so you can hear with your ears, not your tongue.
MA: YOOOOUUUU, were threatening, to rage quit like a timid little b*tch to control the conversation, you were saying, [baby-talk] “If you say this one more time, I’m rage quitting outta here!” And look at you.
JTO: Oh, god—how f*cking old are you.
MA: Like a timid little b*tch, like a little girl—
JTO: No no, Let’s just pause, come on—
MA: You can’t—you can’t even keep your own word.
JTO: How old are you? *How old are you?*
MA: –you can’t even keep your own word. You notice you said, if I called you a b*tch one more time, you’d leave?
JTO: Yeah, because I wasn’t going to let you, I wasn’t going to let you—
MA: And, now you, now you didn’t. So you make empty threats so, you admit you’re a liar?
JTO: No, I was—
MA: You admit you’re a liar, basically?
JTO: …Kid, is this entire thing—
MA: Kid?! Yes Dad? Yes Daddy?
JTO: –Just to wind me up?
MA: What do you have to tell me Daddy?
JTO: And then when I’m finally fed up with you I leave—
MA: What Daddy?
JTO: –and then you go “Oh, rage quit?”
MA: What Daddy?
JTO: Is that the whole point of this whole f*cking exercise?
MA: What Daddy? Say that again Daddy?
JTO: …Kid! *Kid!*
MA: Yes, Daddy?
JTO: That’s what I called you!
MA: Yes Daddy?
JTO: Would you prefer I call you *toddler?* Child?
MA: Grandpa! Are we getting older now? Grandpa, what are you doing? Grandpa, check your pacemaker, it sounds like you’re getting angry.
JTO: Oh my pacemaker’s fine, son.
MA: Yeah? Grandpa, it sounds like your pacemaker’s getting angry.
JTO: Listen, listen, listen toddler, you little child…
MA: Grandpa, check your Depends undergarments. Check your Depends undergarments. Are they okay?
JTO: Would you like to go back to actually—
MA: Are they dry?
JTO: –letting me answer your question?
MA: Grandpa! Grandpa, are your Depends undergarments dry or not?
JTO: (long-suffering sigh)
MA: Don’t cry like a little b*tch! You act like a little b*tch and then you get frustrated! You’re frustrating yourself!
JTO: (derisive laugh)
MA: Go back to your Zen calm!
JTO: You’re—you’re so—
MA: Remember how you were Zen calm? Remember how you were lecturing everyone on how calm you were?
JTO: The longer this goes on—
MA: Remember—(misty exalted voice) ohhhhh! I’m Zen calm!
JTO: The longer this goes on, the more transparent you become!
MA: Uh—what a coincidence! It’s almost like we’re talking to a mirror here! Oh my god!
JTO: So? Do you want me to try to answer the question again, or are you gonna yap again?
MA: Well you want me to state the question clearly so you can give a clear answer?
JTO: No, I know what the question is!
MA: *Oh,* now you know, before you were just ignoring it!
JTO: …Well, I was trying to answer, and you were yapping over top of me—
MA: No you weren’t! You were acting like a scared little b*tch, ignoring it!
JTO: (long suffering) Oh, god. You’re so tedious.
MA: Ohhhh, god. Oh my gawd, you’re so put out. Oh, my gawwwwd, broooo. I have to give a logical answer–?
JTO: Tedious. Tedious.
MA: I have to give a—
JTO: Teeeedious.
MA: Yeah. I’m talking to a *f*cking moron,* and you want to talk about *tedious?* You’re a f*cking idiot! I mean, I have students that are brighter than you!
JTO: …Well, uh, good for them, I’m not sure why they’d pay attention to you.
MA: Yeah, because I make sense!
JTO: So, the question that you asked—
MA: You know why they pay attention to me?
JTO: The question, that you asked—
MA: Because I’m *specific,* like an adult, and I make sense—
JTO: The question—
MA: And you’re a hypocritical, cowardly little b*tch, and I keep proving it to them! That’s why they pay attention to me! That’s why we hold these debates!
JTO: Look. This isn’t a debate!
MA: Public scrutiny!
JTO: (possibly a snort?) This isn’t a debate, sunshine!
MA: Oh it—it’s not, pumpkin?
JTO: No, no it’s not, sweetie-pie! This is [unintelligible]—
MA: Why not marshmallow? Tell me why marshmallow!
JTO: (almost flirtatiously) I’ll try. Are you gonna let me?
MA: Maybe buttercup, are you gonna keep cutting me off?! You—you notice again—you keep cutting me off–
JTO: I’ll tell you what—
MA: You keep cutting me off—
JTO: Hold up your hand—
MA: And *I’m* not crying!
JTO: When you’re ready for me to—
MA: I’m not crying like a little b*tch like you are
JTO: Go like this—
MA: (high voice) Ohhhh, you keep cutting me off!
JTO: Go like this when you’re ready for me to answer the question.
MA: Listen. Listen, you cowardly little b*tch. You notice how *you* keep crying about me cutting you off but I don’t cry when you cut me off? You notice that?
JTO: Well you, you *are* crying, I mean…
MA: Oh I am? I didn’t realize.
JTO: Get your camera up higher, so that you’re not hiding your eyes.
MA: What?! I’m sitting *forward!*
JTO: Well, lean back, or tilt your camera back, cause all I see is from—
MA: You don’t get to tell me what to do, you scared little b*tch!
JTO: This is what I see. This is what I see.
MA: Guess what? Guess what?
JTO: That’s what you look like right now.
MA: You’re a scared little *b*tch,* and you don’t answer my challenges, so what the *fuck* does it matter what position I sit in?
JTO: Well I do, it’s just that you can’t hear the answer because you won’t stop talking.
MA: Oh I “can’t hear the answer?” Maybe it’s because you’re a cowardly little b*tch and you won’t *answer!*
JTO: (laughs incredulously) Well, the question that I remember is do I want long form answers while the other person sits and waits for the answer—
MA: No!
JTO: –Or do I want people to just jump in back and forth on each other?
MA: Yes.
JTO: So, the answer that I gave you many times—
MA: No, you didn’t gave me many times you lying, f*cking f*ggot, you’re a liar! You’re a llllliar.
JTO: I yelled it at you many times—
MA: You didn’t give me that answer at all. You’re a *liar.*
JTO: Oh—(cleansing breath) Well, do you remember me shouting the word yes a couple minutes ago?
MA: No! Hey. Hey.
JTO: Do you?
MA: You f*cking idiot. *We have the tape here.* We could play it back for you.
JTO: Do you remember me sh—just, yes or no. Do you remember me shouting the word yes at you a few minutes ago?
MA: I remember you shouting incoherently. I don’t know what you were shouting.
JTO: I was shouting the word yes.
MA: I remember you getting butthurt and storming off.
JTO: The reason I shouted the word yes—
MA: I remember you storming off like a scared little b*tch! I remember that too!
JTO: Ah, god, you’re so tedious…
MA: (mockingly) Ah, god, so tedious! Again, I’m dealing with a f*cking idiot, I’m doing you the courtesy of dealing with *you.* Come on!
JTO: Why are you still in this conversation?
MA: Good question! You’re too *dumb* to be debating me! Are you kidding me?
JTO: No no no—why are you here, what’s your goal here?
MA: My goal? To educate a moron like you, to educate the general public!
JTO: That’s too vague. Be specific, what’s your goal?
MA: Too vague?
JTO: Too vague. What’s your specific goal—
MA: You are the last person to be lecturing anybody on vague and specific.
JTO: That’s—you’re changing the topic now.
MA: No I’m not!
JTO: So once again—you are changing the—
MA: I’m answering each challenge as it comes up you moron! It’s called being specific, you should learn how to do it!
JTO: (belches) No, you’re being vague. So, again—
MA: No, you’re burping!
JTO: What’s your goal?
MA: Uh, so, uh, sorry, I’m offended by your burping! I can’t answer any challenges anymore, cause you’re *burping.*
JTO: Okay, I’ll stop burping and I’ll just call you “little b*tch.” Would that make you feel better? I mean, we’re calling each other little b*tch now, right?
MA: No no no, I’m calling you a little b*tch cause you’re acting like a little b*tch, and I’m explaining why. I’m explaining—there’s a reason that I’m giving you, so it’s really a valid observation that you’re a little b*tch, because you’re a hypocrite and I keep pointing that out. You keep ignoring it.
JTO: Okay. So I’ve answered you question, what else do you want to know?
MA: You—you’ve answered what question?
JTO: The question—
MA: After I had to drag it out of you!
JTO: But, no, you talked over top of me every single time I tried to answer…
MA: No, you’re a, again, you’re a lying little b*tch. Okay. Let’s clear it up this time so we can proceed forward according to how you want to proceed forward. Now, be clear for the record. Which way do you want to proceed forward?
JTO: …And the two options are we each talk over top of one another—
MA: Mm-hm.
JTO: Or we ask a question and let the other person answer.
MA: Right.
JTO: The second! We ask a question and let the other person answer.
MA: All right. I agree to that—as long as *you* agree to that!
JTO: (incredulous pause) I just suggested it. Why wouldn’t I agree to that?
MA: No you didn’t suggest it! You’re a lying f*cking moron!
JTO: (garble)
MA: What are you talking about? I was the one who first shut up for your long stupid answer full of r*tarded assumptions—
JTO: (garble)
MA: –and didn’t interrupt it, and then I gave my answer, and when I started giving my answer—
JTO: We’ve already covered this ground, so let’s move forward.
MA: And when I started giving my answer—no, I, I’m covering your lie. I’m exposing your lie. Then when I gave my answer, you interrupted me. And that’s when I started lecturing you, about your own hypocrisy.
JTO: Well…if you stack four or five questions into one long rant, I’m going to answer them as they—
MA: Separate—well then should I answer all your idiotic assumptions in one long rant?
JTO: No, you should answer one of my idiotic assumptions. Just one.
MA: Just one. All right, I like how we have new rules! I didn’t know we had these specif—uh, interesting new rules where I’m only allowed to answer one of your idiotic assumptions—
JTO: No, I said I want you to answer only one, it’s not a rule, it’s, I just told you what I want.
MA: Okay great! I want a Ferrari!
JTO: I want you to answer—
MA: I want you to give me a Ferrari, cause I *want* it.
JTO: …No, uhhhh, let’s try to stay on topic—is this too—
MA: No! Let’s try to use your idiotic logic to make a *point* here!
JTO: My assumption is that the rhetoric you’ve presented suggests to me that you are a pick-up site. Now—
MA: We’ve answered this.
JTO: Oh, yeah, but the answer is cause I’m either moronic or socially incompetent or stupid or a b*tch—
JTO: –or, any of the following.
MA: No no no. It’s—I gave a specific answer. It’s cause of your *lack of education.*
JTO: …My lack of education, do you happen to know what my level of education is?
MA: Yeah, it’s moron level!
JTO: (spit take, laughs incredulously)
MA: (imitates JTO’s laugh)
JTO: I wasn’t aware that that was a level of education!
MA: Yeah, I wasn’t, obviously I wasn’t either, but then I had to talk to you, how do you think I feel?
JTO: So—
MA: I thought you’d be an educated adult—
JTO: –if (garbled) education—
MA: –and able to construct a coherent point, and *follow your own rules!* That’s what I thought!

Mr. Hembling presents his version of what happened during the debate here, but provides no link to a video.

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8 years ago

Thal: LOL! Perfect! That is EXACTLY what they’re like!

The dude horse in our pasture who was most beloved by the ladies is even named Dude, and he’s a very gentle and long-suffering soul. We joked that the ladies loved him because he was so nice to them, so suck on it, MRAs. Also because he’s more on the “gay” end of the bisexual spectrum, so maybe they all felt safe around him? Either way, he would sometimes get a floppy, useless gelding-boner from all the shenanigans and the look on his face would be like “WHAT *IS* THIS VOODOO, WHAT IS HAPPENING TO MEEE … ??” Then he would hurry away until the world made more sense and he stopped being so confused about everything.

The only other horse he ever tried to mount was another male, and he jumped on this poor horse *from the side.* The other horse, who had been gelded later in life and did his own fair share of homoflexible experimentation, knew what was (probably) going on (not like you could really tell for sure) and didn’t like it, so he took off galloping, leaving poor Dude hanging off the side and hopping on his back legs until he eventually fell off. I don’t think he’s ever wanted to try that again, with anybody, after such an experience.
Contrary to everyone who thinks animals’ psyches are damaged by castration, it doesn’t really seem to bother him … except when he gets really confused and has to ask his gelding friends what the fuck is going on.

8 years ago

Oh, holy shit, a dressage cowboy?? This is awesome!

Dude Horse is a Thoroughbred and was trained for dressage (though he’s never been that good at tracking up behind, his body is just really long), but he also has natural Cow Sense and would instinctively cut — as in, herd — the neighbors’ calves whenever they escaped. The cowboy who owned the rodeo-circus horse would watch this with great interest, and eventually asked my mom if she’d be interested in selling Dude to him! She was not, so instead we just used Dude to try to train some sense into the cowboy’s new would-be cowhorse. It largely didn’t stick, the new horse was like “HELL no” and was having none of it. In the meantime, though, I got to spend a number of hours riding a Thoroughbred in an English saddle while we chased calves — basically the opposite of what’s happening in that video.

It was awesome, and I’d do it again in a minute if I could.

8 years ago

We joked that the ladies loved him because he was so nice to them, so suck on it, MRAs. Also because he’s more on the “gay” end of the bisexual spectrum, so maybe they all felt safe around him?

Nah, you know those mares were totally trying to spermjack him so they could stick him with foal support. Joke’s on them, HA! Dude has Gone His Own Way and *puts on sunglasses* bucked the system.

8 years ago



Toddles Manboob
Toddles Manboob
8 years ago

By far the funniest part of this is when I realized that they were arguing about the form of the argument.

Howard Bannister
8 years ago

By far the funniest part of this is when I realized that they were arguing about the form of the argument.

Seriously! I was halfway through when I got to the part about ‘now, the question is would I prefer time to answer the question’ and my eyes nearly bugged out of my head, and I just started laughing, and laughing, and laughing…

8 years ago

We had an Arab who had been trained to some roping/barrell racing. He’d do the “spin”. Just be still, and then tap the inside of the circle you wanted. So long as you kept tapping your calf to his side, he’d spin.

Which always amazed people, because I ride English

8 years ago

@guffaw ferrets

Her owner had hired some idiot who didn’t understand that this was neurological, so he tried to “train” (read: mindfuck and abuse) her out of this “behavior”, leaving her with frequent anxiety attacks and episodes of terror too.

🙁 Poor horse. Glad you were helping her later.

And your horse stories are nice. Thanks for sharing 🙂

8 years ago

Oh, that poor epileptic horse.

I think we established a few days ago that I’m a piker when it comes to horses, so I’ll say this:

I love their noses/lips, they’re so soft and dextrous.

Beloved ran across a List of Things I Am No Longer Allowed To Do As A Horse, and I recall the following item:

I am not allowed to flex my junk in front of the judges.

8 years ago

LOL! everyone.

Since you all like the horse stories, this one’s for Falconer:

Dude once fell in love with a stallion, which is a Love That Could Never Be given that stallions tend to get irrational and attack other males for no reason (witness: MRA behavior? except horses are half-ton semi-domesticated prey animals and MRAs don’t have that excuse). So they could only ever nibble one another’s lips over the top of the stall wall or nip one another’s asses as they were led past each other’s stall doors.

Anyway, this stallion was very beautiful, athletic, talented, well bred, all that — and as the son of an Olympic jumper horse he was deemed extra eligible to compete in a lot of breed-association shows. He did very well in one, and was presented with a cooling blanket to wear as he and his rider were waiting for their ribbon. Right then and there, in the middle of the arena, in front of the judges and the Breed Association whatsits and Ceiling Cat and everyone, he decided it was as good a time as any to beat his meat. So he casually began flexing his junk, and it rustled the cooling blanket. His rider, who has ridden many other stallions in her career and has a great sense of humor about it, said it looked like “a puppet show under a tent.”

They still got their ribbon, and hopefully everyone else got a good laugh out of it.

8 years ago

Ftr, I’m going to be laughing at “foal support” and “Dude has Gone His Own Way and *puts on sunglasses* bucked the system” all day today.

* YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!! * /horatio caine

8 years ago

Huh. I never knew horses had such strong personalities! Just goes to show me. So now I shall share a horse story!

About five years ago (OMG so long), we were working in Dipshit Nowhere in NZ. I mean REALLY nowhere, as in we can walk forever, but far as we could walk, there was nothing in any direction except the Buddhist retreat center we worked at, the LARGER Buddhist retreat center up the road, a few homes, and livestock. That was it, and for a week or so, we were working in complete, utter solitude.

Naturally, after finishing our chores, we had time on our hands, so we began to explore the countryside. After hiking around in the mud and the springs and the mountains, we blunder into the area some homes were in, including their livestock. One had horses, and its leg was SHREDDED. It looked gruesome and quite painful, and though we aren’t the smartest about horses, we knew that a bad leg injury could be the end of one.

Only problem: we were in Dipshit Nowhere alone and didn’t know anybody. So we decided to do the only thing we could think of, which was pound on every door we saw until someone answered us.

We succeeded. We found a neighboring family, who were able to contact the owner, who was out of town! The horse is saved, the family invites us in to see haka competition vids (they were practicing for a competition), and everyone lived happily ever after. The end!

Jandi Smith
8 years ago

Found a link to the FULL DEBATE:

8 years ago

Good job, LBT!

You’re right: a leg injury can be the end of a horse, whether immediately due to the injury or during recovery. (Horses aren’t very patient, and they often want to gallivant before they’re completely healed, which more often than not just re-injures them — that or, as with Barbaro and Secretariat, they develop fatal secondary conditions during convalescence.)
So your assistance was awesome and, as you figured, probably literally lifesaving. It definitely saved the poor critter some unnecessary pain. You deserve every good thing! And *you* will be rewarded greatly by the Equinati someday. I would even send you a cake made out of cookies in the here and now, but it wouldn’t fare too well in the mail.

As an aside: one time Dude more or less sprained his ankle from literally bucking the system. He is an extremely accomplished rodeo-style bucker who, when in peak shape, can buck so hard he “swaps ends” — eg, turns himself around 180 degrees in midair. It all turned out okay for him, so I will leave this comment with that mental image.
And remind any lurking doubters of feminine strength and capability, that a dainty little woman trained such an animal all by herself and used to routinely ride him at a full controlled gallop over varying terrain in order to jump over series of large unmoveable natural obstacles. It was awesome. Men have often told me I couldn’t *possibly* do something like that, and I eat their commentary as jam on my toast.

8 years ago

I miss my horse. He wasn’t anything special, but he was mine.

8 years ago

RE: Falconer

We never knew you had a horse!

RE: guffaw-ferrets

Yeah, it was rural back country, and it definitely seemed good we stopped by, because the owner had to rush back from out of town. Later, we saw the horse with its leg neatly bandaged, seemingly going about its business, and we took a photo or two of it as a memory. Seeing how far out we were, there’s no telling who would’ve seen the horse next, and when. It must’ve blundered into barbed wire or something, because yeah, it looked awful.

With rodeo horses like that, are they actually TRAINED to buck? Or is it just inborn talent?

8 years ago

Falconer: special is as special does! Or even as special simply *is*. Some well-bred horses are expensive ill-tempered duds, and you can pull a scruffy, questionably-pedigreed, unpapered animal in from a field somewhere or off an auction truck and make a best friend for life. I’ve known both ends of the spectrum and everywhere in between, and some of the most wonderful animals were the ones who were “useless” for anything but mowing the lawn and being somebody’s best bud. Preaching to the choir, but still. If you miss your friend, you miss your friend.

LBT: six of one, half dozen of another. Some horses (like Dude) are just biologically gifted, some have to be taught (in a really shitty way: they get fitted with a ‘bucking strap’ that irritates them and are then turned loose to try to buck it off), and some biologically gifted horses have their skills augmented with the bucking strap for an extra special experience.
I have never personally rode a rodeo-bucking horse (Dude having a little Moment here and there doesn’t count) but the rodeo cowboy had. He spoke high praises of horses who have innate bucking skills. He also had a scar on his forehead from a run-in with a bull’s horn, so … everybody has their own priorities?.

8 years ago

PS: Falconer, what you said about dextrous horse-lips? Isn’t it hilarious when they flip their lips up in the air and make that amazing face? Also when they groom your hair with their lips, or whisk the dirt off the grass or … now I’m waxing poetic too.

Btw, when it comes to relative specialness — Dude’s value on paper is, like, not very much. He has weird habits and an “engine” that’s too big for most people’s tastes, he responds well to only a very specific type of rider, and he can’t be used for breeding. Since I stopped being able to ride, he’s pretty much just been trimming somebody’s grass and keeping my mom company. But he is “my brother”, so he’s priceless to me.

8 years ago

Now I miss being around horses. 🙁

I particularly miss their fuzzy ears, although the super-dextrous horse-lips come in a close second.

joyintorah18 (@joyintorah18)

Thank you David for posting my video. It was originally posted on Youtube but the voices were masked so they sounded like incredibly fast chimpmunks on coke. I just used Vegas to get the pitch right and only posted EIGHT minutes of this. The entire thing was hilarious. I was chortling with laughter. Maybe I’ll release the rest of it in blurbs so I can keep everyone laughing at these two inept misogynists.

I regularly go after these guys and gals and have been doing so for about 6 years. I even started my own blog but it’s not really designed although I do have a couple posts on it. The name of the blog is Mancheeze ( I couldn’t get the ‘s’ so I had to go with the ‘z’) and it’s on blogspot.

Sael Palani

8 years ago

Now I miss the ponies too… 🙁

Ftr, I’m going to be laughing at “foal support” and “Dude has Gone His Own Way and *puts on sunglasses* bucked the system” all day today.

* YEEEEAAAAAHHHHH!!! * /horatio caine

My work is done. *disappears in a cloud of beet pulp-scented sparkles*

8 years ago

It was originally posted on Youtube but the voices were masked so they sounded like incredibly fast chimpmunks on coke.

Now that would almost make JohntheOtter worth listening to. 😀

8 years ago

I have really, really enjoyed all your horse stories. I miss my girls every single day and it’s great to know that there are other people out there who appreciate fuzzy wiggly lips and wacky interactions!

*flits shyly away*

8 years ago

Manboobz: Come for the mockery, stay for the horse stories.

M Dubz
M Dubz
8 years ago

I haven’t ridden since I was 14 but now I misssss ittttt 🙁

8 years ago

I never thought of horse lips as soft. They are so much firmer than one expects, though amazingly gentle/dextrous. Ours really like beet pulp (ours… not mine any more; but one has memories… they belong to my previous parnter). Long rides in the dark. Fast rides; in pursuit of aid; and quick rides done for fun.

We used to leave Arcadia, and walk up to the fire-road gate (we had a county key, so all the fire-roads were points of entry for us) and then into the foothills of the Angeles Crest).

Heck, she and I really started dating because she needed a riding partner (as she said, she could find someone to sleep with pretty easily, but no one ever wanted to go riding). The long vigil when Sienna was having her first foal, and the casual way Tchotzke dropped hers (it was her third, old hat), and the guy building the wall trying to tell us (in his broken English, and not quite clear on this subject Spanish), “the Mare, she is bringing the baby”, and us thinking it was something with Sienna (we bred them both to the same jack donkey at about the same time). And lazy morning rides, and days spent just being around the smell of warm horses and teaching them a new trick, or weighing hay or…

Now I’m all sorts of nostalgic; as the rain falls softly on New Jersey (keeping me from repotting my etrogim (btw Argenti, the AV cutting didn’t make it. Stem rot).

Argenti Aertheri
Argenti Aertheri
8 years ago

Well fuck. Any guesses why? Cuz I can cut another one no problem. How about the crassula?

And that rain just gave me two liters of rain water for when the sundew arrives (should be here Friday, you’ll be the first to know when/if it blooms)

Nostalgia smells…fresh cut wood. Cuz stage crew.

Argenti Aertheri
Argenti Aertheri
8 years ago

pecunium — I’ll try the terrarium style cutting when I get home, not like I haven’t a fucking plethora of 4′ pots to spare (oversized, sure, but I seriously have at least 6) — I can do the humidity grown plants. And the 30g has a grow light, plus I need to hang the 10g hood for the sundew…and that fucking peat moss disaster has specific directions for using it to grow cuttings.

No harm in trying, the plant won’t mind any.

It’s looking like my mother will be buying me the equipment for a brine shrimp hatchery today. Have not clarified if I’m paying her back.

& LBT — keyboard, when are we doing it?

Argenti Aertheri
Argenti Aertheri
8 years ago

Lol, duh. I’ll have the bases of a couple liter bottles from the shrimp hatchery, I’ll give a pair of cutting a go. Was going to do the plant rearranging today anyways so it’ll be all ready when the sundew arrives.

/spamming thread

M Dubz
M Dubz
8 years ago

@precunium- Sadness on the etrogim. It’s hard to believe that Sukkot is only a little more than a month away. I have sermons to write soon, because I’ve taken a pulpit for the coming school year and they’re having me preach second day Rosh Hashanah (oh no, don’t mind me, I’m just panicking. I’ll be fine).

Hopefully your Elul is restful and appropriately reflective!

8 years ago

@M Dubz, You’ve got a pulpit! You’re going to do just fine. (Keep repeating that over and over.)

8 years ago

The etrogim are doing well, I just want to move them into a pair of pots, not one. The soil will dry out some, and I will mix a good batch of new dirt and then put them into it. One will have Oregano at the base and the other will get some Za’atar. We will have them, the olive, and the pomegranite indoors all winter. The Grape overwinters in the garage. All I need is a fig, right?

8 years ago

M Dubz – bravo on the pulpit, go you!

8 years ago

Thal: beet pulp scented! holyshit
We fed Dude beet pulp for a while because he has an appetite bigger than grain can sustain and gets thin in the winter. Once the barn owner called my mom and said Dude wasn’t eating … and had refused his grain for several *days.* That is not at all normal for him, and since his father and sister both had colic issues, my mom rushed out there trying not to freak out (which is a big effort for my mom).

Turns out the barn owner just didn’t know how to fix beet pulp, and was serving it to him dry. Naturally he didn’t want to eat something that was the consistency of metal shavings, so he just used his dextrous lips (soft peach fuzz fur, firm muscles and whiskers) to sort out the grain kernels and left the rest. He wasn’t sick, but he *was* super unimpressed.

therainparade — aww! Happy to help, as I miss “my brother” too and can talk about horses for hours. Stick around and don’t be shy, you are among your people here!

8 years ago

RE: Argenti

My nostalgia smell is garlic on my hands; I was chopping it when I proposed to Mac.

And keyboard! Is October 1st or 2nd doable for you?

M Dubz
M Dubz
8 years ago

Awwwwwwww thanks you guys *shuffles feet and blushes.* It’s an internship in a larger synagogue with a head rabbi who is really in charge; mostly during the holidays I’m running children’s services. But I will eventually have to preach and lead services and all the real rabbi things. It’ll be my first time getting paid to preach for grownups. I’m not even 26 yet and I feel waaaaay too young to be doing this. But I guess I’m old enough; I impressed them enough that they hired me…

8 years ago

Ours were mixed, some liked it dry (longer chewing time) and others wet. We moved to all wet, because that means less risk of colic. Speaking of beet pulp:,42027/refDownload.pml

8 years ago

Just try not to drop your pilpul in the pulpit (they get stuck on the floor, and are hell to clean up).

Argenti Aertheri
Argenti Aertheri
8 years ago

LBT — maybe? A couple days later would be better, cuz beginning of the month welfare “check” but my mother funded my next, and hopefully last, fish project, so I should be good on train fare. You want metro north, not Amtrak btw, the fare is MUCH CHEAPER.

8 years ago

My horse was just a horse, really a pony, not 15 hands. My grandfather bought him for me and my brother when we turned 5. We’d been living on a farm inherited from my other set of grandparents for a couple of years, and grandad declared we needed a horse. So he found this race horse who never had won much and was 5 years old, too old to race, and bought him and gifted him to us about the same time he gave my parents several cows.

He turned into a big dog, really. We didn’t have the riding equipment — Mom found an old side-saddle in an outbuilding, once — and his temperament was not compatible with a couple of five-year-old, horse-terrified boys who were trying to learn to ride.

The upshot was, once he trotted for the barn with me on his back. I fell off and the ground was not kind, and I never got back on the horse until I took lessons, years later.

My horse did not turn out to be proof against the ravages of time, so I miss him a lot, sometimes.

My strongest nostalgia smell is whatever air freshener my college used in the residence hall lobby where we played fantasy RPGs for a year and a half. It was Palladium (now there’s an incoherent system).

I am quickly gaining a nostalgia feeling for whatever scent they put in the diapers I keep me bairns in.

Speaking of whom, if anyone feels like casting a sleeping spell over my girl to end at dawn tomorrow via the internet, pro bono, I would be greatly obliged. I can pay in the Minecraft block of your choice.

8 years ago

Nostalgic smells (sorry, I can’t help with sleeping spells): On hot days, when I leave the building I work in by the entrance that has a wooden staircase, the smell as I walk out is exactly the same as it was in my grandparents’ attic. I guess it’s just unpainted wood, but I always get such a weird sense that I’ve been transported back to Idaho.

8 years ago

HIgh Desert Sagebrush: new rain (on asphalt, on sagebrush, on pines).

Some perfume my grandmother owned; the side room I slept in smelt of it in the pile of clothes to the right of the door.

The smell of the seashore, esp. on a rocky beach.

8 years ago

Not a nostalgia smell as such – don’t have any of those – but the smell of cat fur. I just love burying my face in kitty fur.

Argenti Aertheri
Argenti Aertheri
8 years ago

Pecunium — low tide. I forgot how much I hated that smell until I moved back here. I’ll take early morning lake most though (me, up at dawn, go figure)…camp…the closest I’ve come to something resembling peace. (Contra, fresh mulch, as that was the day I was chewed up by mosquitoes worse than when I had chickenpox…ropes course we laid it for was awesome though, zip line is the closet I’ll probably ever come to flying)

8 years ago

@guffaw-ferrets – Yeah, I’m pretty hardcore.

I do miss the feeling of horse lips… Fortunately my bf knows that, and since his lips feel the same way, and are very strong and nimble, he’ll sometimes whisk them against my hand or face so he can see me be happy.

I used to live around a lot of hot springs and other thermal features, so my nostalgic smell is sulfur.

M Dubz
M Dubz
8 years ago

Nostalgia smells- fresh cut grass and woodsmoke; not for any particular memory, but just because they are nostalgic-type scents. The smell of wet clay, because my dad works in it. The smell of Bath and Bodyworks, which reminds me of my teenage years in hilarious and painful detail.

8 years ago

Nostalgia smells – rain on hot pavement (Asia), cardamom coffee (Middle East).

8 years ago

Hamster cage 🙂

8 years ago

Jergens Almond-Cherry lotion. My mother has used it (or a close variation on it) since I was wee. I was at a wedding with her in San Diego, and since I forgot my lotion I used hers and I was reminded of my childhood.