A very long time ago, and much less technologically advanced:

I went to boarding school. We had a little bit of a propensity for sneaking out of the dorm at night.

New dean comes in our senior year and installs alarms on all the exits.

Our senior year time capsule contains the controlling keypad to that alarm system that wasn’t even functional for twenty four hours.

I’ve no doubt that today’s teens possess the ingenuity to bypass if not completely disable this thing.

I think I read not too long ago that there are still bales of cash buried around Colombia that were never accounted for.

Biodiesel was gonna be the next big thing before EVs started gaining traction. Arnold drove around a Hummer that was modified to run on vegetable oil while he was governor.

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I hope that wasn’t a stupid question. I’ve been out of that game since before most people on the Internet were born, so I didn’t want to make assumptions based on “that’s how we used to do it.”

I’m so old that the last time I wrote a research paper, it was on a word processor with no Internet connection or spell check.

Given such constraints, I can’t fathom the concept of waiting until the end to add all the references. If I didn’t do it as I went, I’d have surely died.

I should add that we always read each other’s papers before submission to get a second set of eyes for errors, misspellings, and grammatical quagmires. It was mutually beneficial as the reviewing made us all better. Is that still a common practice?

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I’ve seen those things once in my life while on a boat in the Philippines. Really quite something to experience in person.

He probably hates sex because it requires him to show up and actually perform.

There were also weird sizes and brands like Clan Kangaroo Scotch Whisky in the seven quart bottle, invariably sold at a drug store next to the Dutch Master cigars.

I never did any real research with microfiche, but I sure did love going through old newspapers. I especially loved all the old advertisements.

We don’t do that.

My kid is twenty three years old. I raised her alone. Crazy, I know, but she and I are pretty close.

To this day, I get dozens of adulating text messages on mother’s Day for “playing both roles.”

On Father’s Day, total utter crickets except from my daughter herself.

Fathers are here to donate sperm and fund other lives. That’s it.

I was both of those dads.

“Go get me a beer and let’s figure out the answer to your question!”

Hoofta.

Not that I need to tell anybody here, but if there’s an arena with bigger egos than politics, it’s academia. I’d pay money just to watch the carnage.

They’re being pedantic about how the original question was worded in a gotcha attempt. Not worthy of a response.

Tailgating. It’s gonna kill you eventually so let’s streamline the process.

Also fuck you, especially when I’m in a god damned exit lane.

I haven’t watched that guy for a good while but he sure has given Leon a better life than a dinner plate.

God I miss my Shiba. That incorrigible little hellhound was the bestest boy ever.

If I had fewer scruples, I’d find out who the construction contracts for new prisons go to and invest all in. This guy is gonna get in and imprison a whole lot of people. Like a lot a lot.