#MAKING ALTIMATUMS
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B- bu- bud... idk if requests are open but....
B- be- bear bakugou who loves climbing trees but hates the winter cold on his paws. So he starts climbing things in the house😔. Just you scolding him while he's sitting snug on top the bookshelf because he left claw marks and splintered the wood...
BAHAHAHA MUG I LOVE THIS
“Katsuki.”
“Fuck off.”
“Katsuki!”
“Fuck off!”
“Get down from there now!” You scolded your hybrid as he glowered at you from the top of the bookshelf.
“Fucking make me, human!” He sneered, claws digging deeper into the wood, splintering the precious heirloom.
“Katsuki please, you’re damaging the bookshelf!” You pleaded. Katsuki huffed whilst continuing to glower.
“No. I like it up here. Now piss off!” He demanded, leaning forward to get his point across. The bookshelf was beginning to tip slightly, causing you to worry.
“What happened to your other climbing equipment?! Why does my poor bookcase have to suffer?!” You whined, cringing at the groaning of the bookcase. Huffing, you look at your companion.
“Okay. What would it take for you to come down?” You tried from a different perspective. Katsuki stared at you.
“Salmon bowl. But, I eat it up here. Then I’ll come down,” he said, positioning himself to get comfortable.
“Oh god fucking damnit Suki, fine! I’ll make your damned fucking bowl of salmon and fucking rice,” you grumble under your breath, muttering about how you hate winter as much as he does. Katsuki triumphantly smirks before falling asleep to the sounds of you grunting in the kitchen.
“Oi, wake up you stinky brat,” you grumble, pinging the chopsticks against the bowl as Katsuki’s eyes cracked open. His mouth delved into an O shape as he yawned, pointy toofs on show.
He reminded you of a kitten; so sleepy in the winter and hibernating anywhere he can. He could barely keep his eyes open during winter, so you were surprised that he managed to even climb up the damn bookcase.
“Mmmm, don’ wanna wake uuuuuuup,” he sleepily mumbled, getting comfy again.
“Oh no you little bastard, I made you the bowl so you would get off my bookcase. You promised, so get your lazy ass up and eat,” you scolded firmly, ready to throw the bowl at him when he sticks his middle finger up. You huff before smirking; time to bring out the big guns.
“Fine then. No more kisses for a week,” you said, going to leave. Katsuki’s head snapped to you.
“What?” He asked, sleepiness depleting.
“Yup, and no ear rubs whilst you’re napping too,” you list off, about to leave the living room when you hear conflicted angry grunts.
“Ugghghh fine, shitty mate. But, I get to lay on your lap and you have to feed me. Deal?” He answered cheekily, sleepy smirk slapped on his face.
You sigh.
“Deal.”
“Was this really so hard, sweetie?” You murmur to him softly, petting your sleepy bear boy after he demolished his bowl of salmon and rice. Katsuki cracked an eye open.
“Mhm, totally. Natural instincts an’ shit, plus I like being up in high places. Is too cold to do it outside,” he mutters, head nestling into your tummy. Your fingers trail softly over his cute little brown ears, giggling when you see his pompom tail wiggle.
“Stop moving, human. Your laughing is disrupting my sleep,” he mumbles, nosing your tummy as you wrap a blanket around him.
“Sorry, my love. Well we can look into constructing something a bit more practical for you to climb until it’s not as cold outside. I think the attic might be a cool place for some more climbing gear, plus the alcoves could be padded out for your naps,” you ramble quietly, gentle tracing of his ears never ceasing until you hear the quiet rumbly snores of your mate.
You stop talking, wrapped the blanket higher around his neck and kissed the space between his fluffy ears.
“Goodnight, my bratty cub.”
#bnha x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou#bakugou fluff#bakugou x reader fluff#mugwort my love#MUG FUCK YOU FOR MAKING ME MATERNAL#HES SO STINKY#I NEED HIM#MAKING ALTIMATUMS#bear hybrid bakugou#bear bakugou au#hybrid bakugou#hybrid bakugou x reader#hybrid bnha#hybrid bnha x reader#bnha x reader fluff
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time for my regularly scheduled rant session.
1. Imposter Syndrome maxed out
2. Stress levels high (I need to publish like crazy this year, but I don’t even know what I’m going to do)
3. Home sick -- miss my friends, family, and good food
4a. Boyfriend is mad I don’t make enough decisions in our relationship BUT
4b. Gets mad that I make plans with other people without verifying it’s okay with him (wtf???)
4c. Doesn’t think I make enough efforts to see him when we’re apart. And explicitly told me “don’t swamp yourself”...
Oh I’m sorry, I thought this was my life I was living. NOT. YOURS.
5. I really want a dog
-- --
Those are the main points, but I’m just mad and uncomfortable all around.
There are many things I’m upset (lots of subparts to the main points listed above) but I mainly just want to SCREAM about 4.
CHRIST. ALMIGHTY. THIS BOY IS SO DUMB. HE DOESN’T REALIZE ALL THE THINGS I GIVE HIM, THE SACRIFICES I’VE MADE FOR HIM. ETC. ETC. ETC. YET HE HAS THE BALLS TO TRY AND TELL ME I’M STILL NOT DOING ENOUGH.
I’M NOT. SACRIFICING MY ACADEMIC CAREER OR FUTURE FOR ANY BOY OR GIRL EVER. END OF STORY. IF HE KEEPS PUSHING ME DOWN ALTIMATUMS I WILL FUCKING BREAK THINGS OFF INSTANTLY.
DON’T.
FUCKING.
TEST.
ME.
EVERY GODDAMN BOY I’VE EVER DATED NEVER THINKS I HAVE THE BALLS TO SHOW THEM THE FUCKING DOOR. AND EVERY RELATIONSHIP, I’VE ENDED UP HAVING TO KICK THEM OUT.
ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGHHHH I’M SICK OF THEIR ARROGANCE. I’M SICK OF THEIR ASSUMPTION THAT I NEED TO MAKE ALL THE SACRIFICES. I’M SICK OF THEIR CLINGYNESS.
I’M. SICK. OF. IT. ALL.
HOW FUCKING DARE HE.
WHO THE HELL DOES HE THINK HE IS TO TRY AND CONTROL MY SOCIAL AND ACADEMIC LIVES. HE’S NOT MY MOM OR DAD. HE DOES NOT GET TO APPROVE MY ACTIVITIES.
FUCK THAT.
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The Best Bad Cars of Pebble Beach Weekend
If you listen closely, you can hear the rust creeping through the body panels, forming a Jackson Pollock interpretation of hoods and fenders. You can smell the desperation of the vehicle owners as their cars struggle and wheeze to a start. And you can even sense the malaise of the 1970s American factory workers as they churned out awful sedan after awful sedan.
This is the Pebble Beach Concours d’Lemons—the celebration of automotive creations so terrible that they are truly great. It’s a collection of kitsch, an assembly of rarities and resto-mods, and a trolling of the 1-percenters’ Concours d’Elegance occurring two days later that it may actually be the better show in town. It is definitely more fun.
In contrast to the august tones of the commentators on the resplendent 18th fairway at Pebble Beach, the Lemons announcers on the lawn of Seaside City Hall crack wise, insult participants, and hand out Silly String so spectators can shower the “winner” of Worst of Show in phosphorescent gunk.
Lemons is not just a bad-car show. Therein reside vehicles many people have never seen—and which cannot be unseen. But the laughter, bribes, and coffee flow freely. And there is a great story behind every car.
Here are my favorites from this year’s field.
1990 Volvo 245 Mondrian
Although stunningly left out of the awards, this paean to the BMW Art Cars of yore was created by San Francisco sculptor and blacksmith Jess Muse. Using self-adhesive vinyl and reflective black tape, Muse’s several-month labor of love emphasizes the rectilinear shape of the brick-era Volvo wagons.
Nissan Altimatum
Also known as “Mad Max: The College Years,” this creation of Benjamin Brant of nearby Sand City features chain link over the hood, animal skulls galore, faux bazookas, and an operating winch. The Chihuahua in the passenger seat is the ultimate accessory.
1987 Jaguar XJS
By keeping the original, unreliable V-12 engine, mechanic and apparent masochist Jason Sims of Argonaut Garage in Berkeley earns automatic respect for his jacked-up Jag. Elevating its ride height was “super easy! No, actually it took hours and hours,” Sims notes. But he paid only $700 for it, and has spent only $2,000 to get it in shape—mostly on the 31-inch Bighorn Maxxis tires.
1973 Mercury “Vomit Comet”
Dressing the part is an essential part of presenting your Lemons entry, and William Hughes of Prunedale (“A really bad place, where you are allowed to park destruction derby cars and the neighbors don’t care”) is resplendent posed in his polyester blazer and “Vote for Nixon” button. From the Landau roof to the houndstooth seat inserts, this car screams Barney Miller stunt car. Even if he wanted to improve its looks, Hughes can’t: “The guy sold it to me for 50 bucks, but said, ‘If you do anything to it, if you don’t keep it the same, I’ll shoot you.’” He’s had to replace the transmission, but everything underneath is shared with the Ford Mustang, so parts are easy to find.
1967 Mercedes-Benz 230 Miesen Ambulance
Originally used from 1967-1975 by the hospital in Künzelsau, Germany, this bloody-people hauler was acquired by Bob Grunthorpe of San Diego after it had sat in a warehouse for 25 years. It was created from a bare Mercedes chassis by the coachbuilders at Miesen, who stretched the wheelbase by 16 inches to make room for the gurney. It still has period-correct bandage boxes as well as the original linoleum flooring—which makes it much easier to sop up the gore from accident victims.
1952 Panhard Dyna-Break
Business is conducted at Lemons, too. And Dave Grainger of Toronto continued his twisted affection for weird post-war French luxury cars. “I just saw it, looked at my wife Janice, and said, ‘I just have to have it.’” Janice’s reaction was to shake her head in a bemused circle. Purchase price was not disclosed.
1977 AMC Gremlin
Yes, it really is a Gremlin, a seriously modified one at that. It could be a one-off Excalibur, except that even that notorious aftermarket coachbuilder has definitively denied any connection to this abomination. With a hodge-podge grille from a Lincoln Continental, chicken-wire engine vent covers, running boards from the Home Depot discard pile, hurricane-lamp taillights, and faux gems applied over every knob and button, this is the definition of Lemons. Underspray of the mucous-hued paint reveals avocado mica underneath. Pinstriping appears performed by Crayola. The horn sounds like a strangled goose. The “MAGA” license plate could mean “Make AMC Great Again” or “Make American Gremlins Again.” James Callahan of El Paso is a long-time Lemons attendee, but this was his first entry. The result: Worst In Show. Said the judges: “Usually it’s a tough choice. This time was no choice at all.”
The post The Best Bad Cars of Pebble Beach Weekend appeared first on Motor Trend.
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Frank gives Senate 7-day altimatum to release report on Maina
Frank gives Senate 7-day altimatum to release report on Maina
…Condemn EFCC’s persecution of Saraki
A political activist and former Deputy National Publicity Secretary of the All Progressives Congress (APC) Comrade Timi Frank, has issued a seven-day ultimatum to the senate to make public theirr investigations carried out on the former chairman of the Presidential Task Force on Pension Reforms, Alhaji Abdulrasheed Maina
Maina
Frank threatened to drag…
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The Best Bad Cars of Pebble Beach Weekend
If you listen closely, you can hear the rust creeping through the body panels, forming a Jackson Pollock interpretation of hoods and fenders. You can smell the desperation of the vehicle owners as their cars struggle and wheeze to a start. And you can even sense the malaise of the 1970s American factory workers as they churned out awful sedan after awful sedan.
This is the Pebble Beach Concours d’Lemons—the celebration of automotive creations so terrible that they are truly great. It’s a collection of kitsch, an assembly of rarities and resto-mods, and a trolling of the 1-percenters’ Concours d’Elegance occurring two days later that it may actually be the better show in town. It is definitely more fun.
In contrast to the august tones of the commentators on the resplendent 18th fairway at Pebble Beach, the Lemons announcers on the lawn of Seaside City Hall crack wise, insult participants, and hand out Silly String so spectators can shower the “winner” of Worst of Show in phosphorescent gunk.
Lemons is not just a bad-car show. Therein reside vehicles many people have never seen—and which cannot be unseen. But the laughter, bribes, and coffee flow freely. And there is a great story behind every car.
Here are my favorites from this year’s field.
1990 Volvo 245 Mondrian
Although stunningly left out of the awards, this paean to the BMW Art Cars of yore was created by San Francisco sculptor and blacksmith Jess Muse. Using self-adhesive vinyl and reflective black tape, Muse’s several-month labor of love emphasizes the rectilinear shape of the brick-era Volvo wagons.
Nissan Altimatum
Also known as “Mad Max: The College Years,” this creation of Benjamin Brant of nearby Sand City features chain link over the hood, animal skulls galore, faux bazookas, and an operating winch. The Chihuahua in the passenger seat is the ultimate accessory.
1987 Jaguar XJS
By keeping the original, unreliable V-12 engine, mechanic and apparent masochist Jason Sims of Argonaut Garage in Berkeley earns automatic respect for his jacked-up Jag. Elevating its ride height was “super easy! No, actually it took hours and hours,” Sims notes. But he paid only $700 for it, and has spent only $2,000 to get it in shape—mostly on the 31-inch Bighorn Maxxis tires.
1973 Mercury “Vomit Comet”
Dressing the part is an essential part of presenting your Lemons entry, and William Hughes of Prunedale (“A really bad place, where you are allowed to park destruction derby cars and the neighbors don’t care”) is resplendent posed in his polyester blazer and “Vote for Nixon” button. From the Landau roof to the houndstooth seat inserts, this car screams Barney Miller stunt car. Even if he wanted to improve its looks, Hughes can’t: “The guy sold it to me for 50 bucks, but said, ‘If you do anything to it, if you don’t keep it the same, I’ll shoot you.’” He’s had to replace the transmission, but everything underneath is shared with the Ford Mustang, so parts are easy to find.
1967 Mercedes-Benz 230 Miesen Ambulance
Originally used from 1967-1975 by the hospital in Künzelsau, Germany, this bloody-people hauler was acquired by Bob Grunthorpe of San Diego after it had sat in a warehouse for 25 years. It was created from a bare Mercedes chassis by the coachbuilders at Miesen, who stretched the wheelbase by 16 inches to make room for the gurney. It still has period-correct bandage boxes as well as the original linoleum flooring—which makes it much easier to sop up the gore from accident victims.
1952 Panhard Dyna-Break
Business is conducted at Lemons, too. And Dave Grainger of Toronto continued his twisted affection for weird post-war French luxury cars. “I just saw it, looked at my wife Janice, and said, ‘I just have to have it.’” Janice’s reaction was to shake her head in a bemused circle. Purchase price was not disclosed.
1977 AMC Gremlin
Yes, it really is a Gremlin, a seriously modified one at that. It could be a one-off Excalibur, except that even that notorious aftermarket coachbuilder has definitively denied any connection to this abomination. With a hodge-podge grille from a Lincoln Continental, chicken-wire engine vent covers, running boards from the Home Depot discard pile, hurricane-lamp taillights, and faux gems applied over every knob and button, this is the definition of Lemons. Underspray of the mucous-hued paint reveals avocado mica underneath. Pinstriping appears performed by Crayola. The horn sounds like a strangled goose. The “MAGA” license plate could mean “Make AMC Great Again” or “Make American Gremlins Again.” James Callahan of El Paso is a long-time Lemons attendee, but this was his first entry. The result: Worst In Show. Said the judges: “Usually it’s a tough choice. This time was no choice at all.”
The post The Best Bad Cars of Pebble Beach Weekend appeared first on Motor Trend.
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As an ex-professional driver, there are rules, laws, regulations and guidelines, not to mention company policies to combat the effects of fatigue. From a professional point of view, there have been only a couple of companies I’ve worked for that haven’t forced me to work while fatigued. Yes, I know I have the right to say no, but altimatums such as “If you can’t do it, I’ll find someone who can” and statements such as “You knew what we expected of you when you accepted the job” come from the lips of the manager. In fact, just recently I spent 7 weeks in a cast after falling and breaking a bone in my wrist as a direct result of lost concentration due to having already worked 33.5hrs between Monday and Wednesday Midday when I had the accident at work.
I recall being behind the wheel of a truck at one point, just ticking over the 58hr mark for the week, and not remembering the last 45 minutes. It’s not that I was actually asleep at the wheel, it’s just that my concentration levels were affecting my memory. It’s scary to think, that going over the point of recognised fatigue is as good as being drunk. I was in control of 50 tonnes !!!
Research found that after 17 hours without sleep, our alertness is similar to the effects of a blood alcohol concentration of 0.05%, which according to U.S. law is considered “impaired” on the legally drunk scale. – Here in Australia the limit os 0.02% !!!!
Fatigue isn’t just something that happens when you’ve done too much physical work. The fatigue I suffered from came from the many hours of constant concentration. My body felt fine. I recall talking to my boss about the danger of fatigue and that reducing my hours by just 1 a day would greatly help. I was told “If you can’t keep up, maybe you should find an office job”. Great huh.!!
Here in Australia, anyone driving a vehicle with a GVM (Gross Vehicle Mass) of 4.5t and over, when travelling more than 100km from the companies depot, must complete a National Driver Work Diary, supplied through the National Heavy Vehicle Regulator. I have one, and have used it many times. I have also thrown several of these diaries out of the truck window at the request (demand) of my manager, and told to lie to any officer that pulls me over saying that I must have left it on the trailer at the last stop. Highly unorthodox, not to mention the legalities.
Now away from that industry and occupation, I look back and am thankful I made the decision to leave. The transport industry is accredited with many disastrous road accidents, lives impacted and of course lost. It makes me angry that employers can threaten the livelihood of their employees and endanger other road users life’s, all in the name of a better bottom line. I can decisively say, the overtime isn’t worth it when your driving 80 hours a week. You just don’t have time to spend it. I used to leave work 7.5hrs before I was due back and underway again.
From a non-professional point of view. I’m a very responsible driver. Knowing what the effects of fatigue are, how they affect your decision-making, concentration and reaction times, I don’t take the risk. I don’t have an employer breathing down my neck, and can make use of the many rest stops on the freeways and interstate roads. We even have “driver revive” stations where a caravan is set up as a cafe, and free coffee and tea are on offer for responsible drivers who take a rest.
I’m originally from New Zealand. It’s a beautiful place, and driving in New Zealand is as easy as it gets. The toughest thing about driving there is concentrating on the road as there’s so much to see outside of the car and away from the road its easy to get distracted. Fatigue was never really an issue for anyone I knew. The longest drive I ever did was 4 hours. In fact, no matter where you are in New Zealand, you can drive to either coast in under 4 hours. Great if you surf !! It wasn’t until I moved to Australia that I became away what a real drive was. Driving from Adelaide to Melbourne took 7.5 hours. I needed to stop half way !! 16 years later and I can easily drive from Melbourne to Sydney, a 10 hour drive (not including stops). I wouldn’t attempt this though without preparation. Rest up before the drive, get a good nights sleep and eat a healthy breakfast. Simple.
There are many websites, road safety publications etc that give great advice on how to tackle long drives. My advice is simply this;
If you feel tired stop
eat healthy snacks while driving long distances (greasy takeout and fat fried food just make you more tired)
drink plenty of water – coffee and energy drinks “pep” you up but make you crash hard later
talk to your passengers, sing along to a song, tap the steering wheel – active isn’t asleep
plan the journey
Safe travels out there everyone in the lead up to the warmer months (and cooler months here in the southern atmosphere).
Fatigue – ‘The new drunk’ As an ex-professional driver, there are rules, laws, regulations and guidelines, not to mention company policies to combat the effects of fatigue.
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angry rap im sorry already but i hate it i hate this im clearly not ready i mean,
Why if you say you are weary, are you still trying? why would you be friends with people who leave us feeling like we arent surviving? how is it okay to let them back in? if youve figured it out please clue me in.... i havent been able to comprehend how they dropped of the earth like it was world war 10, I have been nothing but a good fucking friend and i wanted them to be my family until the end. for some reason im the piece of shit yet youre going back to them like yall are homies and shit??? Nah fuck this and fuck all of you im tired of draining myself to make sure everyone is cool im doin me now, imma convert My suburban to a camper of sorts then im hittin the road and im never turning back, imma get on the road and none of you will ever get my ass back, you were givin an altimatum, if youre gonna choose the ones who gave it to u im bout to up and run, i swear im fuckin...done
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