• 3 Posts
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Joined 2 years ago
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Cake day: July 18th, 2023

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  • Holy shit. When I was 16, I was visiting Yucatan with my family, and my cousins that we were staying with knew of this local cave that was “owned” by one of their friends. Basically, for 20 pesos each, their friend would take me, my brothers, and my two younger cousins on a cave tour where we were actually climbing in and up and all through this cave.

    Keep in mind, this is Mexico, so there’s no regulations on this very small time operation or really much thought of safety, no equipment except for headlamps, etc. As a teenager, we all thought this was great cause it meant way more adventure. Tbf, it was a hell of an adventure for sure. But retrospectively, pretty sketchy. My youngest cousin ended up slipping on a rock we were climbing up and started sliding down the right of it with nothing to grab onto (the rock was very slick) which led to this black abyss of cave rocks some 50 ft down. Confident that little dude would’ve died if my oldest brother hadn’t snagged him by his oversized shirt and brought him back to relative safety…

    But anyways, this didn’t faze us (cause we were dumbass kids who felt invincible) and we continued on with our tour guide (who was straight up wearing flip flops). After about an hour of climbing further and deeper into this cave, crawling through tunnels, he eventually brought us to this pretty big “room” in the cave that just had this weird stench about it. And the second you walked in, the floor was entirely squishy and there was so much screeching. Turns out the room was FILLED with bats and we were stepping on a lot of bat shit. Like we continued on a little bit, and we couldn’t not step on bat shit. It was up to my ankles and absolutely covered the ground.

    The dude said we could continue on and there was another 1.5 hours of adventure we could do, but that was around the time we called it, and started heading back. We were probably only in that room for like 5 minutes before leaving, but had we continued on, he said we would’ve had to traverse deeper into the room to get to the next spot.

    That seems like the exact conditions you’re describing for airborne rabies…

    I’m glad I had that experience (only because nothing bad happened), but never again. For a lot of reasons.


  • I think it must be something else too, though. I’m a little bit of a weirdo in the sense that I don’t use or am addicted to any social media. Lemmy is my only social media, and I’m not on here for more than a couple of hours (if that) in a given day.

    I’ve never browsed or had Twitter, Instagram, TikTok, etc. Shit, I don’t even browse YouTube like most people do. I do have a Facebook, but it was created LONG ago and i haven’t been regularly on there for over 10 years.

    I’m often losing track of my phone cause I’m just not usually on it. And yet, I’m having this exact issue where shit is just melting together and my memory isn’t what it used to be. I see it in people around me, too. I’m only 30.









  • …sooo I’m a decently attractive (child-free) lady that’s historically been this way with my partners (granted, not every day. Basically all of my relationships have been long-term, so y’know, sometimes the mood just isn’t there).

    This is the first time I’ve heard of the mom fetish, and it also made me feel weird lol. But also made me reflect on why I’ve always kinda been that way, and wonder if this is maybe subconsciously the reason?

    Turns out, the answer is a solid “no” lol.

    I definitely had an upbringing that conditioned me to be the type of person that serves others. And so as I grew up, I guess that turned into a way that I show interest/love.

    So maybe it was a similar thing for your girl? Ooooor maybe she was REALLY into feeling like a mom lol. The world may never know.


  • Hard disagree.

    I get why people insist on comparing bad things to other things to gauge the level of bad - especially when we’re talking about America. I say this as an American who was also spoon-fed the bullshit that America is “the greatest country in the world”.

    But I feel like the sentiment of “America is such a shitshow, we should focus on that and nothing else” is doing us all (regular people) a disservice, and creates something of a red herring.

    Instead of having a single spotlight on America, maybe we should be looking at the shit state of an overwhelmingly majority of the world and ask ourselves why the fuck shit is as bad as it is.

    How (and why???) does horrible/evil shit continuously prevail? Throughout all of human history, we as a species tend to get caught up in prejudice and useless (read: fucking stupid) hate.

    At least to me, this feels like a pattern. Every generation of humans have a majority fall into the same dumbass bullshit (although the execution and severity of it varies).

    Fuck America. From its shitty-ass origins all the way to its shitty-ass current state. But also fuck most other countries for a lit of the same shit.

    There’s this saying that people that should be in power are typically the ones that really don’t want it, and therefore don’t pursue it and/or reject it. This is the root cause of the problem. The ones that want power badly enough to be in politics (or in some cases resort to violence to seize it) tend to be the worst kinds of people. And they are the ones running the world.








  • Growing up, I spent every Sunday going to a church my grandpa established, and afterwards my entire family would go over to my grandparent’s house for lunch. We would usually be there for hours, so many Sundays, my cousins and I would play gladiator outside in the backyard. We’d make weapons and armor out of whatever we could find, and just have a battle in the backyard. We did this from the time that we were little kids and all the way through my time in high school.

    In my early college years, I had mentioned to my boyfriend (who i had been with since high school) that I really missed this tradition with my cousins.

    He bought me this cute little gladiator doll to hang up on my car’s rearview mirror as a memento of those special times. No longer have that boyfriend, but I still have that little doll.