Every day I become slightly more convinced that Europe’s disdain for AC is the result of an EU psyop to make old people die off before they put too much strain on the universal healthcare and pension systems.
I bring home a trapped coyote and let it loose in the kitchen.
Hackles up. Teeth bared. Pissing on the floor.
My wife says, "Get it out."
I tell her that is a very unwelcoming and unchristian way to speak about a future house pet.
The children back into the hallway.
I tell them it's a rescue.
I tell them fences are fear.
I tell them cages are barbaric.
I tell them the old rules were cruel.
I tell them it will domesticate in time.
Then I grab my lunchbox and leave them to live with my principles.
When I get home, there is blood on the floor, and the experts who sold me on compassion are already explaining why nobody could have seen this coming.
Anyway, that's Western migration policy.
>The exact type of gun Canada is trying to ban
>Drove a ton of time only to attack in the most inefficient way possible
>In the manifesto he praises commies or even Islamic regimes because "I can't get laid", however
>??? Rhodesian cammo ???
Leaf feds are so embarrassingly lazy
>God forces you to exist
>God kills all your kin
>God wears their corpses for power
>God curses you weak and slow
>God reduces you to lvl 1
>God forces you to carry continents
>God seals away your children
>God seals you away AGAIN
You cannot name a character who suffered more
I'm a fan of Dragon Shield sleeves, I get pink diamond for basically every game I play that's magic sized and turquoise for Yugioh to make card swaps easy. I've been seeing a dip in quality lately between boxes of the same color and its really frustrating when its THIS noticeable
America. I came here for a fishing rod.
A simple thing.
A stick. A line. A hook.
In Japan, this is how you speak to a river.
Quietly. Patiently. With humility.
You lower yourself to the water.
You wait.
The fish decides.
I walked into Bass Pro Shops.
I could not find the fishing rods.
I found the guns.
Many guns.
A wall of guns.
Floor to ceiling.
Side to side.
Gleaming and waiting —
the way a cathedral waits.
Not for you to arrive.
For you to finally understand
why you came.
I stood there for a long time.
And slowly, I began to understand.
In Japan, to catch a bass, you use a rod.
In America, to catch a bass, you bring overwhelming force.
This is not fishing.
This is a declaration of intent.
I picked up a rifle scope.
I raised it slowly to my eye.
I looked through it toward the lake outside the window —
the still, glittering, unsuspecting lake —
and I saw it clearly for the first time.
The enemy.
The employee appeared beside me.
I did not hear her coming.
This impressed me deeply.
She had training.
"Can I help you find something?"
I lowered the scope.
I looked at her.
She looked at me.
"I am scouting the enemy," I told her.
She nodded.
Without hesitation.
Without confusion.
She has done this before.
Everyone who comes here has done this before.
This is what you do
before you fish in America.
I left with no fishing rod.
I left with no gun.
I left with something heavier —
a new philosophy,
settled into my bones
the way a long war
settles into a soldier
who has finally seen the battlefield
and understood
that the battlefield
was always inside her.
A kunoichi does not fish for bass.
Bass Pro prepares the kunoichi for bass.
Is this normal?
Please explain American fishing to me.
I am ready to learn.