Muricans being muricans

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Ah y'all fuckers got me excited with the Feet, Hamburgers and Shaved Chicks or something but y'all talking about measurements and guns.

:cry:
 
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The Math Olympiad! I was the only person with an American Flag covering it at an international organization, lol! That's funny.

I get comments all the time:

"you don't seem like I was expecting for an american." - A friend who grew up in Vietnam
"you're the first american to purchase those (chicken feet)! *laughs*" [Fun fact: chicken feet contain ninety nine percent collagen protein.] - a sales clerk at a Hong Kong Market (my place of choice for groceries; love their kimchi!)
"Wow, I...was not expecting that kind of level of engineering work from an american." - A friend from Japan
"you do not approach academics like most americans, do you?" - A friend from Russia and another from Turkey
"you prefer dry humor? We do too in the UK; you're not like most amercians, and your jokes are actually funny."
(I told him casually with a straight face that people say I could be a great stand-up comedian but I would personally prefer to sit down to crack jokes.)
"Hmm; it's not bad [for a meal you cooked]" - a friend from Spain who said all the other meals cooked here by americans were junk, and I used Spain olive oil.

I felt loads of pressure in international environments due to my appearance (I did not want to feel lazy or incompetent, since I did grow up in an abusive home where "Self-Esteem" was not a word permitted to be used.). I just worked harder to make up for it. But a lot of my international friends say that is normal to feel pressure to show one is not what they appear to be. It is easy for some to fall prey to basing one's abilities on where they live, so I do my best to avoid that always.

"Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgment."
 
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I had one that was large, not that large, and they hurt worse than any insect sting, bullet ant rituals and executioner wasp stings included. I'm not a yelper even when I had broken bones, seven stitches, and my face was completely red and covered in blood at the ER after fun sparring sessions back in the day; those made me smile calmly and enjoy the fun character-building. Not like I couldn't walk around or drive to my job 850 miles away the following morning: "no excuses; if you cannot make it, you did not want your black-belt badly enough.".

But a kidney stone made me bellow as hard as I could and it still wasn't enough to express the pain. That was the closest I ever got to PTSD from pain. Sheesh.
 
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I'd rather not be force-fed baby goats.

How did you design a device to launch baby goats (kids) anyways, and why? That is a weird University project, that's for sure!

Edit: Oh my gosh they have those:

uh.jpg
 

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