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MrsDoyle

MrsDoyle@lemmy.world
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The contrast between those fingers and the cute teddy fabric makes for a frisson.

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I just watched that BBC doco about the guy, blood-freezing stuff. The way he worked his way up from being a minor prince to de facto king… yikes.

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The article begins: “Mohammed Abu Al-Qumsan had just picked up birth certificates for his newly-born twins when he found out they had been killed, along with his wife and her mother, by an Israeli strike on the Gaza apartment where they were sheltering.”

There’s more detail about the attack (tank shell) and a photo of the grieving man.

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I had landlords like that, it was fantastic. The rental market was super hot at the time, and finding this flat was like a miracle. Eventually I had to suggest that they increase my rent, lol - it was ridiculously low. I was plied with cakes and fine Polish vodka every rent day. When I left they both cried, and said I was like a daughter to them.

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Wheelchair basketball is brutal - they slam around the court like charioteers. Really exciting.

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Scotland, hands down. I feel so lucky to be living here. I was only going to stay three years & then go back to New Zealand and settle down. Thirty-five years later I’m still here. I fell in love with the hills - and the freedom to walk on them - the lochs, the ancient ruins. But most of all I fell in love with the people. Their craic, their warmth and craziness, their generosity, their music. I love that you can talk to anyone and you’ll often hear an amazing life story.

I love things like this: https://www.dailyrecord.co.uk/news/scottish-news/anti-deportations-group-issues-guide-24107754

I love the cultural richness that’s come from successive waves of immigration, from Italy, India & Pakistan, China, Poland and more.

I love the food. I love haggis and Arbroath smokies and Aberdeen butteries and shortbread and oatcakes and Tunnocks caramel wafers.

And least I forget, yes, I love the weather.

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Vanuatu is one of the best places I’ve ever been. Really interesting people.

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I was on a work trip back in the 80s that took me to one of the northern islands of Vanuatu. Our plane landed on a football field, that’s how remote our destination was. After we set up camp, someone said they’d heard there was a teacher from New Zealand in the nearby village. Well I’m a New Zealander too, so off I went to meet her. Within the first few minutes we had worked out that not only were we originally from the same small town… she was my older brother’s first girlfriend.

But actually because NZ has a small population and we all travel a lot, it’s not as mad a coincidence as all that. It sometimes feels like we are all just a couple of degrees of separation from each other. “Oh you’re from Oamaru? Do you know XY?” “Not really, but one of my cousins works for his sister, ZY.”

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Top tip: take the lid off before using.

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Anecdotally from some article I read, on average the protesters are 40+ year old white men who you would find in wetherspoons 6 pints in on a wednesday morning

Was this the article? https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/article/2024/aug/07/rioter-southport-jailed-far-right

I looked at the photos and thought, what a bunch of losers. Read the article and sure enough, losers.

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