I just sent that to everyone I know without explanation.

They did rebrand him as “sooty Pete”, a white dude with soot on his face (black patches instead of full blackface). At least a lot of people do that. But obviously you still get a lot of people clinging doggedly to their racism tradition.

I have Dutch friends who were legitimately terrified that Zwarte Piet would kidnap them and take them to Spain.

The maps wrong. In northern Norway (marked in lavender) the terms Bibliotek and Girjerádju are both used depending on whether you’re speaking Norwegian or one of the Sami languages. Despite being indigenous to the region Sami is spoken by a minority and the map should be striped red and lavender. Or if you’re going by indigenous languages then you need to extend the lavender portion down through northern Sweden to Luleå and in Norway down to Trondheim.

At this point Dems need to be voting against absolutely everything put forward by the republicans. They need to demonstrate to people that they aren’t the problem. If they don’t then they are part of the problem. Working with the republicans on anything is completely inexcusable at this point.

Sorry

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I remain tempted but stoic

I get that. But, you also have to understand that unisex bathrooms are the actual opposite of what they want, but still neutralise the issue. They keep saying that they don’t want men in the women’s bathroom. “Fine now it’s everyone’s bathroom so stfu” is an effective method of shooting them down.

And guess what? There still isn’t any bathroom related crime at my university. We just don’t have to put up with people telling us where to take a shit.

Besides it just requires putting propper cubicles in the bathroom. A competent building firm could have it done in a week. And it’s a lot cheaper than legal fees. And it doesn’t make people feel like they’re committing a seditious act by taking a shit.

By stuff you mean animated GIFs of big breasted horse hung transgender anthropomorphic lions being violated by giant alien tentacles, right?

Just say porn

So I’m just floating this as something to consider, but my local university has unisex bathrooms. Like most of them are. Just a couple of cubicles that have actual walls and doors that reach the floor and ceiling. Why not just sidestep the issue entirely and just do that?

To.be fair, the Simpsons hasn’t really been on in a long time.

I’m pretty sure they don’t care about the bible.

Ok, that’s some bulshit!

Banning porn is impossible. As long as there are cameras with which to take a photo of your bum hole or the ability to scrawl a picture of an anthropomorphised dog fellating a large breasted dragon in fishnets on a restaurant napkin, porn will find a way.

Not hot enough.

Ok so british fast food is definitely very heavy on meat pies and chips (although I should point out that there’s a lot of crossover with south Asian fast food and there are other fast food standards like baked potatoes and various sandwiches). And where the confusion lies is that Brits only really eat British fast food or foreign restaurant food because why would you go to a restaurant to eat the same food you make at home? But there’s a whole load of really nice food that just never gets sold in the restaurants. It’s definitely British cuisine. British Christmas food is heavily spiced full of dried fruit and marinated in rum or brandy (rum is better), There are few deserts that can measure up to a well made apple crumble or sticky toffee pudding, and haggis is such a satisfying dish that it’s inspired poetry.

Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great Chieftain o’ the Puddin-race! Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace As lang ‘s my arm.

The groaning trencher there ye fill, Your hurdies like a distant hill, Your pin wad help to mend a mill In time o’ need, While thro’ your pores the dews distil Like amber bead.

His knife see Rustic-labour dight, An’ cut ye up wi’ ready slight, Trenching your gushing entrails bright, Like onie ditch; And then, O what a glorious sight, Warm-reekin, rich!

Then, horn for horn, they stretch an’ strive: Deil tak the hindmost, on they drive, Till a’ their weel-swall’d kytes belyve Are bent like drums; Then auld Guidman, maist like to rive, Bethankit hums.

Is there that owre his French ragout, Or olio that wad staw a sow, Or fricassee wad mak her spew Wi’ perfect sconner, Looks down wi’ sneering, scornfu’ view On sic a dinner?

Poor devil! see him owre his trash, As feckless as a wither’d rash, His spindle shank a guid whip-lash, His nieve a nit; Thro’ bluidy flood or field to dash, O how unfit!

But mark the Rustic, haggis-fed, The trembling earth resounds his tread, Clap in his walie nieve a blade, He’ll make it whissle; An’ legs, an’ arms, an’ heads will sned, Like taps o’ thrissle.

Ye Pow’rs wha mak mankind your care, And dish them out their bill o’ fare, Auld Scotland wants nae skinking ware That jaups in luggies; But, if ye wish her gratefu’ prayer, Gie her a Haggis!

Oh but I’m struggling to much to maintain a social life and have visitors.

I mean I wouldn’t try that in my humidifier.

Yes