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For fertility to be opt-in. Sure, you'd still get the Quiverfull nuts breeding like rabbits, but all the unintended, unwanted pregnancies? Gone in one fell swoop. No-one would be born without being wanted. Which would mean a hell of a lot of people not being born at all, to the benefit of the whole planet.
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Running into someone you used to be envious of for how much better they were at one ambition to discover that they are astronomically more successful than you at another that you didn't even know you shared is its own special kind of depressing. Especially if you make a right tit of yourself during the encounter and just happen to look like a jumble sale dragged backwards through a hedge while they are ready for their closeup.
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Not every school labels their exercise books the same way. If you find that one keen new student has charged ahead and labelled theirs in a way other than the one you were dictating, because they're one of the few who has done this subject before and they think they know what they're doing, tell them they're wrong and that they'll have to start again. Do not scream at them, put them in detention, and hold them back after the lesson while you tell them what a useless wad of scum they are to the point that they cause themself permanent physical harm in a doomed attempt to not cry. Should you somehow reach this point anyway, the correct response to seeing that an 11 year old has torn the skin on their thumb open with their index fingernail by repeatedly scraping it over the course of 5 minutes is not to toss them a tissue and carry on.

And you wonder why I didn't do French GCSE or choose to spend my after school time learning Latin from you.
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My laptop decided on Saturday night that it didn't like life and wasn't having any more of it. I'd left it on all day fighting cancer.
So I left it to cool down, then tried to boot up again - it died with a little 'pew!' sound after about twice as long as it should take for a laptop to boot had elapsed. Since then, it has alternately started booting and sat on the black screen with the Windows flag pulsing in and out until the battery dies/I kill it at the power switch, and whinging at me because it wasn't shut down properly last time. It's the latter state that is actually more useful, because it will let me try to fix the problem from there. I've gone down all the 'advanced' repair options - automatic startup repair, system restore, hard drive diagnostics - that I can. I hadn't done system image repair or DOS prompt, because I didn't have the relevant CD or harddrive for the first, and I have no clue what I'm doing with the second.
On the offchance I plugged my portable harddrive into a port the last time I tried to boot, and it allowed me to attempt the image doohickey. It's doing that now.

If this is unsuccessful, can anyone recommend a computer repairman?
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Fire tiger.

I know, I was shocked too. I was expecting water rat or something... I can be a little fire tigery if someone's threatening my friends or family, but that's about it. Mostly I'm very doormatty.
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I hope I'm not being too melodramatic when I say that I hope I can get over the grief without forgetting the love.
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I still miss him so much.

With his songs of discontent, and his cartoon cat run... I just miss him. And any time I say it out loud I cry.
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What the hell's a TSA?
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I can't do a poll because I've not got a paid account so I need to ask for comments, but I don't know what to write - I've narrowed my longlist of concepts down to a shortlist, and can't get any further.

Fractured Woman: A woman with multiple personalities, with vastly different and contradictory goals. One wants to get sterilised, one wants a baby, and a third(male) just tries to stay out of the firing line.

Stark Raving Love: Based on the songs of Jim Steinman, a teenage love triangle becomes deadly when you throw in a silver Black Phantom bike. Ghosts and redemption set in a small town in Texas.

Lost in a Good Book: The title will have to change as it's one of Jasper Fforde's. A troubled young boy finds refuge from his splintering family life and school bullies in a battered paperback stolen from the English department during a particularly boring cover lesson. The book was abandoned for a reason - it absorbs its readers. He finds a previous victim still in there, and together they need to find a way out. Excerpts of Stark Raving Love for the book.

I Used To Drive One Of those/Road To Nowhere: a pair of short stories. Driving late one night, a woman on the brink of a crisis(possibly divorce) finds that all the cars on the road with her are ones she has owned and driven at some point in her life. Memories related to each of them help her reach a conclusion about her current situation and a plan of action. Elsewhere, a visiting friend or relative unfamiliar with South London finds themselves driving on the M23 - all the way to Crystal Palace.(for those who don't know, the M23 is a partial motorway that was mostly abandoned long before completion. It goes from the M25 for about 3 junctions before stopping dead and forcing you up a slip road onto a B-road which then winds through the town. It was originally planned to go all the way into central London.) Not realising, they find themselves stopping at a service station along the way and somewhy needing to go back(leaving something important behind) - and of course, it doesn't exist.

Good Times Being Human: This one's a bit hairy because it's fanfiction. George, Mitchell and Annie(and possibly Nina) decide that it's about time they had a holiday, and make plans to go to Mickey's Not-So-Scary Halloween Party in Orlando. Unfortunately they fond themselves at the tail end of a freakish hurricane season, and stranded in Louisiana, where they hire a car and end up in Bon Temps. They meet and interact with the True Blood characters. Hijinks ensue.

All of them seem equally easy to write, and any of them could run out of steam at any point. What do I do?
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I wish I still had a second home to escape to.

Posted via

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David Abraham stepped adverb out into the adjective sunshine, and admired Doktor Improbable's body part. "Ah," he sighed, "That's an adjective sight."

Doktor Improbable climbed off the noun and walked adverb across the grass to greet his lover. David Abraham patted Doktor Improbable on the body part and then tried to transitive verb him adverb, but without success.

"That's all right, we can try again," Doktor Improbable said and held out an adjective noun. "Just take that with some water and in half an hour, you'll be ready to transitive verb."

David Abraham swallowed the noun at once and sure enough, in half an hour, they were able to transitive verb adverb. They transitive verb past tense extended metaphor about love. Three times.

And then the neighbor told them to get off his lawn.

You have encountered Slash Fanfic which lunges at you with sudden penis!
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Being too silly, impatient and full of unfounded faith in myself to do my A-levels. I genuinely believed, at the age of 16, that I would get into Laine Theatre Arts, they would starve me down to a decent size 8, I would graduate at 18 and be a darling of the West End by 21.

Yeah. Well, we live and learn. I should have done what everyone told me to do - stay at school and get A-levels in English, Maths and Music, gone to a good university(my deputy head once told me I was Oxbridge material - good god, why did I ignore her???) and THEN, once I had a degree, pursued the stage, enrolling at a musical theatre college at 21.

I gained nothing anyone would respect by the path I took(one and a half BTECs and an HND), and only got into Stella Mann at 21 anyway. If I could go back to 17...
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Bush meat.
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I want Marmite on toast.

Unfortunately, we have no sliced bread or spreadable butter, so the only component of Marmite on toast that I can actually have is a dollop of Marmite. Unless I get creative with the leftover burger buns.
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1. Hold a referendum on EU membership
2. Get the fuck out of the EU
3. Scrap National Rail and all the private companies it fails to liaise with, reinstate British Rail as an entity in charge of the tracks, rolling stock, stations AND timetables(or, in other words, everything) so there is no breakdown of communications and rampant waste
4. put a limit on how many business consultants any state organisation can hire, and a capped fee that they can pay them
5. Having got the fuck out of the EU, start treating farmers sensibly - no more paying them to keep fields fallow, or paying them less than it costs them to produce for milk.
6. scrap tuition fees. It's one thing to no longer give a grant but expect the money back at some point, it's quite another to charge extra.
7. ban NHS funded IVF, and balance advertising for IVF with promotion of adoption.
7b. make sterilisation on the NHS easier to obtain, with iron clad paperwork to the effect that the patient, having chosen the surgery of their own free will, does not get to bitch and sue if in a few years they change their minds and want to breed. They will be pointed in the direction of the adoption services.
7c. fire any and all pharmacists who refuse to dispense contraception on moral or religious grounds. If you don't want to do your job, or want to use your job to manipulate and oppress, you don't get to keep your job.
8. make adoption easier. No banning people on the grounds of disability, marital status(unless dangerous) or ethnicity. The ultimate goal being to unstigmatise adoption, so it shouldn't matter if someone is not the same colour as their parents. Lift the age limit.
9. make parenting classes for the breeding compulsory.
10. take the arts funding away from the Olympics and give it back to the arts
11. mobilise Boris' fleet of new Routemasters
12. stop the campaign for England to host the 2018 World Cup. We can't afford it.

I'm sure I missed a lot there, but it's a good start.
Oh! Electoral reform!

13. make our democracy proportional. Count up each individual vote to decide the balance of parliament, but also count the majority of any given constituency to elect their MP. This will mess around with the numbers in the Houses a bit, but it also means that whoever wins the popular vote is put into power.


14. Legalise all class B and C drugs, have them dispensed by chemists in a controlled environment. Tax them. They'll still be cheaper than those bought on the street, so drastically chopping down the illegal drug revenue that's funding the war lords of Afghanistan, and cut crime committed by addicts who can't afford their fix.
14b. Station security staff outside chemists.
15. Put all jobseekers to a minimum amount of work. Nothing degrading or difficult, but useful occupations that will benefit society, the like of which volunteers currently do. Cleaning away graffiti, manning public libraries, governmental data input and suchlike.
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Grandma, as is her wont and as runs in the family, takes a lot of photos. To this end she has a shiny red Lumix Panasonic digital camera, with a regular SD card. As she travels around the world, she apparently fills up chip after chip with photos.
We're currently in France, and we've both been snapping away(like I said, it runs in the family) taking photos of this very picturesque and photogenic little city. I forget exactly where we were, but at some monument or other she got a photo and my cameraphone wouldn't go to camera mode fast enough, so she said I could copy her shot of the same thing, and copy across the photos from this part of the trip(she has all the previous ones copied onto her macbook) for safe keeping. So, this afternoon, we found a camera shop and bought a USB adapter for her card(very generic), took it back to the hotel, I plugged it in and copied all the photos appearing after two shots of Guildford. I then returned the chip to the camera, asyoudo.

Just now, Grandma turned on the camera and made a rather shocked sounding squeak. The photos she could see on the screen were ones she had taken, but not on that chip - photos of New Zealand, and several of them - they flicked through in order, and then back again. She didn't even buy this chip(the only one with us) until she'd flown from New Zealand to Bermuda. The first photo should have been of the shop assistant who sold it to her. Turning the camera off and back on again did nothing, nor taking out and replacing the chip. I put it back in the card reader and plugged it back into this laptop, and the photos that should have been on there were. They then reappeared on the viewscreen after I ejected the chip and returned it to the camera.

This is all boggy and detail-ridden, but I want to give a complete account of what happened. Technically minded people who know better than I, what DID happen? My only hazard at a guess is that this computer was running phenomenally slowly the first time I plugged in the chip, and when I told it to eject it possibly failed to do so properly and somehow left the chip temporarily unreadble, leading to my second hazardous guess that the camera itself keeps a shadow copy of a certain number of photos before copying them to the chip and that it defaulted to these when the chip didn't give it what it wanted. But in that case, why not the photos from today? Why the photos from a whole 'nother country, and a different chip?
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Not a book, but a musical - "The Drowsy Chaperone". The title is the name of one of the supporting characters, who sings one song and spends most of the time falling over drunk. She's not really that important to the plot. And it's not a title that draws you in - it sounds rather dull. I would rename the show after her song, and call it "As We Stumble Along", which is far more dynamic(being an active journey rather than a passive name) and more like the 1920s musicals of which it is a pastiche.

Generally speaking, I'm terrible at giving things titles, and far too easily swayed by them. Unless I recognise the author as worth reading, I probably won't read a book with a dull title.
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Trying on clothes makes me want to cry.
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