America - its all a bit odd...

endure

GCM
So far as I am aware, it's used in many countries. It's used in cases where you have undergone some sort of serious treatment which kills all the normal bacterial in your digestive system. If you just let the bacterial grow back randomly, you run the risk of dangerous bacteria happening to get a head start by chance and taking over before the normal benign bacterial can get a foothold. So what they do is to insert some bacteria from a healthy person to give the "right sort" of bacteria a head start. It's also used to treat certain chronic gut diseases which are caused by the "wrong" sort of bacterial having taken over.

Fecal Microbiota Transplant is Safe and Effective for Patients with Ulcerative Colitis

'Faecal transplant may help children with autism', study suggests
 
I’m currently absorbed in Another Fine Mess, British motorist Tim Moore’s account of crossing the continental USA in a Model T Ford via Trump-voting areas ($1.99 on Kindle) and it’s worth it for this passage alone:

‘...Obviously Trump is a jackass, but, you know–we’re Republicans.’ Paul shrugged helplessly: his preference, one he had bolstered with campaign donations, had been the inestimably less appalling Ohio governor, John Kasich. I could only sympathise. This must be how it feels when the football club you’ve supported all your life appoints a manager you find it very difficult to warm to, on the grounds that he’s an absolutely colossal anus. And who then wins the league, but does it by playing with seventeen Russians up front.​
‘So, Tim, you think we’ve had our day as number one?’
The question seemed an obvious follow-on, and the catch in Paul’s voice suggested he already knew my answer. Putting Donald Trump in the White House was hardly the act of a confident, optimistic nation, comfortable in its own skin. I hadn’t been alone in seeing his election as an end-of-era event, a superpower on the wane raging against the dying of its light. When had that light shone brightest?​
Since setting off I’d been routinely struck by the anachronistic trappings of daily life, the fixtures and fittings that dated America’s high-water mark to somewhere around 1962. The weedy 110-volt power supply that struggled to boil my bedroom kettles. The crappy, wobbly two-pin plugs. The cumbersome top-load washers in the motel laundry, like props from a monochrome sitcom. The speed-stick deodorant that I’d bought by default in a West Virginian pharmacy, a real blast from the personal-care past which harvested short and curlies while pasting my pits in mentholated lard.​
However poorly all these accoutrements had aged, half a century back they were the trailblazing future. Domestic appliances and hot showers for all! America was a proving ground for the modern way of first-world living. It proudly invented all these home comforts, then popularised and standardised them, while the rest of the benighted, unwashed, steam-powered world looked on in awe. For more than half a century, they led and we followed. They were number one by a million miles.​
I remember when my American cousin Patricia, Miles’s partner, first visited us in London in 1976, and left her toiletries laid out in the family bathroom. I was agog. A bottle of strawberry hair conditioner held particular fascination. I’d never even heard of hair conditioner–I’m pretty sure it didn’t exist in Britain back then, except perhaps as some harshly medicated slurry that stank like Vicks VapoRub and made your scalp shriek. This stuff was a creamy pale rose and (sorry, Patricia) smelled good enough to drink. It was also graced with a runic robot tattoo–the first barcode I had ever seen. Patricia had bottled the future and brought it over.​
But that was about as far as they got. Europe and the Far East stealthily reeled them in, and because Americans never leave their country–Patricia was the exception that proved this rule–they didn’t notice. When my wife and I first watched Friends back in the mid-1990s, we were amazed to see Chandler dispense high-end Manhattanite sarcasm into a house-phone the size of a wine box, the sort of hulking embarrassment even my parents had long since chucked out. And because Americans are so cocksure and headstrong, even when they belatedly did notice, they took forever to react. The fossil-fuelled, eight-track American Way was the original and best...​
I am also reading this book. Thus far the author seems like a bit of a window licker.
 
Can’t say I’m shocked. I imagine he would be equally complimentary about you.
Quite true, but at the same time at least I know what a shotgun is. Nor would I be dumb enough to travel across country without having some sort of mechanical ability to conduct basic vehicle maintenance!!
 
Another Fine Mess, British motorist Tim Moore’s account of crossing the continental USA in a Model T Ford via Trump-voting areas
Sounds like an agenda-driven road trip to me. Sounds like a simple fcuk too driving a 100 year old car with no mechanical skills of his own to service it in case of break down.. He should probably get back to the Blue area safe zones before an Indian or two shows him the way to The Happy Hunting Ground. Just sayin'. :mrgreen:

President Trump TEXT.jpg
 
Sounds like an agenda-driven road trip to me. Sounds like a simple fcuk too driving a 100 year old car with no mechanical skills of his own to service it in case of break down.. He should probably get back to the Blue area safe zones before an Indian or two shows him the way to The Happy Hunting Ground. Just sayin'. :mrgreen:

View attachment 399707
Well this "simple f-u-c-k" won an election and will likely win again....unless something drastically changes...you know what his advantage is? His simple bite sized messages...no matter how ridiculous they are.
 
Sounds like an agenda-driven road trip to me. Sounds like a simple fcuk too driving a 100 year old car with no mechanical skills. He should probably get back to the Blue area safe zones before an Indian or two shows him the way to The Happy Hunting Ground. Just sayin'. :mrgreen:

View attachment 399707
The guy is a cluster, and I am surprised he was not killed thus far in his adventure.
His scalp would not be worthy of your lodgepole.
 
Well this "simple f-u-c-k" won an election and will likely win again....unless something drastically changes...you know what his advantage is? His simple bite sized messages...no matter how ridiculous they are.
We are referring to Tim Moore the author of this book....


Carry on...
 

rampant

LE
Kit Reviewer
Book Reviewer
With FBs announcentment of their new crypto currency, an amusing thread on how despite being one of the most advanced countries in the world, in some areas (Banking) they are years behind the rest of us.

 
It sounds like something either author could have come up with. Something like :

The ducks perked up, these two were always good for some fresh artisanal baked goods. Although sometimes it tasted a bit sulphurous.
Aziraphale waved the paper at Crowley, who said, "Don't look at me , that lot are supposed to be on your side."
"Oh, come on, you know very well I've never had the stomach to deal with these New World types. They give me the willies."
 
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