click
Ah, silly wikipedia. My siblings and I enjoy much lulz because of this finding.
[q]Who is your daddy, and what does he do?[/q]
ed note: that's not the way my dad spells his name, nor is it his name in any phonetic approximation.
Printable View
click
Ah, silly wikipedia. My siblings and I enjoy much lulz because of this finding.
[q]Who is your daddy, and what does he do?[/q]
ed note: that's not the way my dad spells his name, nor is it his name in any phonetic approximation.
your papa fences? did he ever try to teach you fencing? fencing is pretty hardcore man.
Yeah I learned fencing. My dad's teaching it now bc of a tennis accident involving his Achilles tendon (ouch)
I've always wanted to Fence :D
My daddy is a beef cow farmer/electician. He used to have dairy cows but that don't make no monies no more! because you know why would you change the regulations of milk sales? they've worked fine since the 30's!
Those idiots who determine whether they'll buy from you keep changing things, which cost money. And you're in debt anyway from the start. So you'll never make profit.Quote:
Originally Posted by Bert
Farmers should just sell their land to house developers and the country can starve to death.
My dad works at Carls Jr.
You all have cooler dads than me. :(
My dad paints houses.
My dad does flooring. He installed the hard wood in our house. :D
well the way the determine milk prices is how far you are form Wisconsin. which in the 1930's made sense because that's wher the majority of milk came from and shipping was way different then. But why they still use that method now makes no sense to me. it has almost completely shut down Vermonts dairy industry. My dad alwasy said "yeah I can make $100,000 a year but, it'll cost me $200,000 to make it"Quote:
Originally Posted by PeegeeThose idiots who determine whether they'll buy from you keep changing things, which cost money. And you're in debt anyway from the start. So you'll never make profit.Quote:
Originally Posted by Bert
Farmers should just sell their land to house developers and the country can starve to death.
My dad is a lawyer. My dad is Raistlin!
My dad is a secret agent.
My father died when I was young. I think he was in the CIA or something. As like a secretary xD
Go wash your mouth out with soap young man! Right this bloody instance! I'll not have you saying such filth within these walls!Quote:
Originally Posted by Laddy
My dad died when I was 3 years old. When he was alive he did a fair few jobs:
He was a mechanic in the merchant navy, apparently he could repair anything from ships to tanks to cars which led to his next job on leaving the navy...
He was a mechanic, because of his career with cars my dad drove a lot of awesome things, he had 2 Jaguar E-types over the years. In fact he got rid of a very nice Toyota Celica back in the 80s because he had 2 young children (myself and my sister) whom he wanted to protect so he got an ugly gold coloured range rover. I still to this day remember being a little kid in the back of that thing, I also remember my uncle's similar range rover (it was the same but black) this is why having an eidetic memory is so awesome, not many people remember a man who died when they were only 3 years old well but I have a few memories, one involved this range rover and a bridge on a hill my dad used to drive out of his way to take us over because it made us laugh as it generated a butterflies in your belly sensation. I also know where my love of cars and bikes comes from, it comes from him I still cherish watching great drivers like Senna, Mansell etc on a sunday afternoon on my dad's knee, he'd lean me in to corners making noises like a F1 car, I loved it.
He managed off licences, he was well respected in his company and always got the better stores in an area. The last off licence he ran was the one on the corner of Granville Road in North Finchley, this was my childhood home and it's from the bedroom window on the side of the house that I used to blow raspberries and pull faces at Margret Thatcher as she entered the Conservative offices across the road (Finchley was after all her own constituency) little did I know that there was a police sniper laying 6ft to my right prone on the roof looking at the scene below ready to fire at any threats.
I don't remember my dad's death, my mom sent myself and my sister to live with my auntie and uncle in the west midlands (Dudley to be precise, well Sandwell is more accurate but Dudley was the local shopping area) when he took ill. In a way I'm glad she did. Given my eidetic memory which no one really realized I had until I was around 17 I would possibly have remembered him being ill and I don't want to. I like the fact that my memories whilst not the sharpest things in my mind are of him strong and healthy.
My daddy is the general manager of a natural gas pipeline company. He works on multimillion dollar bids o.o Wait, did I do this wrong? My daddy likes to shoot things?
My dad died in '04. He worked in logistics for the Government in the Department of State.
aren't most childhood memories eidetic? o_OQuote:
Originally Posted by IceglowGo wash your mouth out with soap young man! Right this bloody instance! I'll not have you saying such filth within these walls!Quote:
Originally Posted by Laddy
My dad died when I was 3 years old. When he was alive he did a fair few jobs:
He was a mechanic in the merchant navy, apparently he could repair anything from ships to tanks to cars which led to his next job on leaving the navy...
He was a mechanic, because of his career with cars my dad drove a lot of awesome things, he had 2 Jaguar E-types over the years. In fact he got rid of a very nice Toyota Celica back in the 80s because he had 2 young children (myself and my sister) whom he wanted to protect so he got an ugly gold coloured range rover. I still to this day remember being a little kid in the back of that thing, I also remember my uncle's similar range rover (it was the same but black) this is why having an eidetic memory is so awesome, not many people remember a man who died when they were only 3 years old well but I have a few memories, one involved this range rover and a bridge on a hill my dad used to drive out of his way to take us over because it made us laugh as it generated a butterflies in your belly sensation. I also know where my love of cars and bikes comes from, it comes from him I still cherish watching great drivers like Senna, Mansell etc on a sunday afternoon on my dad's knee, he'd lean me in to corners making noises like a F1 car, I loved it.
He managed off licences, he was well respected in his company and always got the better stores in an area. The last off licence he ran was the one on the corner of Granville Road in North Finchley, this was my childhood home and it's from the bedroom window on the side of the house that I used to blow raspberries and pull faces at Margret Thatcher as she entered the Conservative offices across the road (Finchley was after all her own constituency) little did I know that there was a police sniper laying 6ft to my right prone on the roof looking at the scene below ready to fire at any threats.
I don't remember my dad's death, my mom sent myself and my sister to live with my auntie and uncle in the west midlands (Dudley to be precise, well Sandwell is more accurate but Dudley was the local shopping area) when he took ill. In a way I'm glad she did. Given my eidetic memory which no one really realized I had until I was around 17 I would possibly have remembered him being ill and I don't want to. I like the fact that my memories whilst not the sharpest things in my mind are of him strong and healthy.
eidetic (aɪˈdɛtɪk)
— adj
1.
(of visual, or sometimes auditory, images) exceptionally vivid and allowing detailed recall of something previously perceived: thought to be common in children
2.
relating to or subject to such imagery
[C20: from Greek eidētikos, from eidos shape, form]
He's a fireman. Not the volunteer kind, the actual kind.
My dad was a psychiatry major that turned hippie and went into new age healing. When he died he was trying to use his mind powers (or crystals, or homeopathy i forget which quackery) to make him stop needing glasses. We will never find out if it worked.
My dad is an aging hippy turned VP of some assorted technical field for a bank. Hilarious when we go backpacking occasionally and he wears a ratty bandana and talks about how he saw aerosmith open for black sabbath and would toke up if they ever legalized weed. He's like a stepford husband at home, I feel like I had never met the guy til I graduated high school.
My dad goes to places and does computery things. Like network security and stuff, just freelance. He also drives my siblings to school and does general father-of-young-children things. He has an IMDB page but it's not under his real name so I don't remember how to find it.
Man, you guys.
We have awesome dads.
My dad owns Kennedy & Co. Realty
the end.
he never does anything exciting, he does however scare the living carp out of us. the other day he came home waving a machete.
Actually,Quote:
Originally Posted by Bertaren't most childhood memories eidetic? o_OQuote:
Originally Posted by IceglowGo wash your mouth out with soap young man! Right this bloody instance! I'll not have you saying such filth within these walls!Quote:
Originally Posted by Laddy
My dad died when I was 3 years old. When he was alive he did a fair few jobs:
He was a mechanic in the merchant navy, apparently he could repair anything from ships to tanks to cars which led to his next job on leaving the navy...
He was a mechanic, because of his career with cars my dad drove a lot of awesome things, he had 2 Jaguar E-types over the years. In fact he got rid of a very nice Toyota Celica back in the 80s because he had 2 young children (myself and my sister) whom he wanted to protect so he got an ugly gold coloured range rover. I still to this day remember being a little kid in the back of that thing, I also remember my uncle's similar range rover (it was the same but black) this is why having an eidetic memory is so awesome, not many people remember a man who died when they were only 3 years old well but I have a few memories, one involved this range rover and a bridge on a hill my dad used to drive out of his way to take us over because it made us laugh as it generated a butterflies in your belly sensation. I also know where my love of cars and bikes comes from, it comes from him I still cherish watching great drivers like Senna, Mansell etc on a sunday afternoon on my dad's knee, he'd lean me in to corners making noises like a F1 car, I loved it.
He managed off licences, he was well respected in his company and always got the better stores in an area. The last off licence he ran was the one on the corner of Granville Road in North Finchley, this was my childhood home and it's from the bedroom window on the side of the house that I used to blow raspberries and pull faces at Margret Thatcher as she entered the Conservative offices across the road (Finchley was after all her own constituency) little did I know that there was a police sniper laying 6ft to my right prone on the roof looking at the scene below ready to fire at any threats.
I don't remember my dad's death, my mom sent myself and my sister to live with my auntie and uncle in the west midlands (Dudley to be precise, well Sandwell is more accurate but Dudley was the local shopping area) when he took ill. In a way I'm glad she did. Given my eidetic memory which no one really realized I had until I was around 17 I would possibly have remembered him being ill and I don't want to. I like the fact that my memories whilst not the sharpest things in my mind are of him strong and healthy.
eidetic (aɪˈdɛtɪk)
— adj
1.
(of visual, or sometimes auditory, images) exceptionally vivid and allowing detailed recall of something previously perceived: thought to be common in children
2.
relating to or subject to such imagery
[C20: from Greek eidētikos, from eidos shape, form]
I'm fairly certain "exceptionally vivid" memories with "detailed recall" are only had by certain people. The common (and probably incorrect term) is photographic memory. In most cases, it's just an occasional thing. Nobody completely remembers everything they've ever seen. I have "photographic" memory of very few things. As a quick example, I have only seen my aunt Carol one time in my life, for a very short time, and I have never seen a picture of her. But I can remeber every detail of her face almost perfectly. Why? Hell if I know.Quote:
Originally Posted by http://www.cracked.com/article/127_5-ways-to-hack-your-brain-into-awesomeness_p2/
..wait GC; i was going to say something else.Quote:
Originally Posted by ShlupQuack
*cough* your dad's asian. we should have an asian day in eyes on each other. *cough*
I won't use a quote to highlight Bert and Cloudstrife777's posts it'd only form a massive quote pyramid.
Anyhow, my eidetic memory is mostly auditory based. However remembering something auditory can trigger other memories related to that event. For example, my ex fiance and I met back in November 2004 when I was no longer a child by any means. On our very first meeting a friend of ours was sick because she got too drunk, another friend of ours almost had her handbag snatched which resulted in me fracturing my kneecap catching the guy. I never went hospital for it because of my deep hatred for the places. I eventually got it x-rayed at the insistence of my GP a few months later (when I eventually conceded that my bones weren't quite alright) remembering little things said then perfectly can trigger in my head actual visual memories where I can picture my ex-fiance down to the exact clothing she wore that day (it was a leopard print mini-skirt, torn fishnets, doc martin 18 hole boots, black top and a black jacket... I can actually tell you what colour her underwear was since I glimpsed the panties she had on that day, but I'm not going to) I can also remember pretty exceptionally well my first real date a week later with her. Considering it is now Feb 2012 it's been almost 8 full years. I am known to often think aloud to myself about things I want to remember because of how my memory works.
Essentially I can be one of the worst people you want to make a promise to because I will generally remember things like that and I hold people to their words.
That probably explains why your posts are so detailed.
My dad embezzled $250,000 from his job, skipped town, and then snubbed us on child support. I don't really know what he does now.
My dad is an asshole. :monster: