Am I reading this wrong or are they forcing people to be searchable? Some people don't want to be found by others. At all.
But go to that page where you used to be able to choose who searches for you an you get:
"Your privacy settings are secured for your protection."
with a lock box. How is putting your info out there against your will "for your protection"? What if you have an abusive ex who will now find you?
You have to enter your password to even alter the new default settings. There are also multiple pages in which you'll have to visit to get all your original settings back, ei. all your profile pictures will be viewable to everyone unless you specifically go into a second screen and change that back as well. You also have to go into the Settings tab and change each item, posts, links, notes, photos, etc, that you post back to only friends, as it's been defaulted to everyone. Also, there is no way now to keep your profile completely viewable by only friends, as the option of who can add you as a friend only has two choices everyone and friends of friends. I used to be able to completely hide my entire profile so that only friends could see it, and if I friended someone, I had to add them because no one else could see my profile. That layer of protection is now no longer an option.
It also looks like they altered the profile picture album privacy settings - I logged on tonight and realized that I was suddenly able to see a non-friend's profile picture album. So then I just started randomly clicking on strangers, and everyone's albums were viewable. I checked my privacy settings and sure enough, my profile photo album settings were set to "everyone". Some shiesty shit right there.
I'm not one of those people who throws a big hissy fit whenever they make changes, but damn. If they're gonna be going around quietly fucking with everyone's privacy settings, I might have to deactivate again.
How can you abide by dry taters? Yah, yah, the chopped monkey ass-meat (with hair) to the right looks to be revolutionary in its repulsiveness, but, yeah, unadorned white potato is a sin against nature. The markings of a true culinary troglodyte.
I posted this Monty Python favorite in the comments long ago, but I think it's time for a replay:
Horace
Much to his Mum and Dad's dismay
Horace ate himself one day.
He didn't stop to say his grace,
He just sat down and ate his face.
"We can't have this," his Dad declared,
"If that lad's ate, he should be shared."
But even as he spoke they saw
Horace eating more and more:
First his legs and then his thighs,
His arms, his nose, his hair, his eyes...
"Stop him someone!" Mother cried,
"Those eyeballs would be better fried!"
But all too late, for they were gone,
And he had started on his dong...
"Oh! foolish child!" the father mourns,
"You could have deep-fried that with prawns,
Some parsley and some tartar sauce..."
But H. was on his second course:
His liver and his lights and lung,
His ears, his neck, his chin, his tongue;
"To think I raised him from the cot
And now he's going to scoff the lot!"
His Mother cried: "What shall we do?
What's left won't even make a stew..."
And as she wept, her son was seen
To eat his head, his heart, his spleen.
And there he lay: a boy no more,
Just a stomach, on the floor...
None the less, since it was his
They ate it – that's what haggis is.
@OliversArmy: Agreed -- thanks for finding this so fast. BTW, am I the only one freaked out by the "new" thin Alton? He's looking Michael Stipe-ish thin.
@braak: You are, as usual, completely correct.: One of the best foods on this planet! (By the way, that's really sly of you, making it look like I'm saying that you are, as usual, completely correct. Though, in this instance, you are, indeed, completely correct!)
@Mike Byhoff: One time when I was little, I remember my mom boiling chicken. It was so bad (in looks and in taste), apparently, that my dad actually documented it with photo evidence. I should try to find those pictures.
@Mike Byhoff: I grew up on the West Coast of Scotland, and (like most food there) haggis is often fried. Also, Scots tell foreigners that a haggis is a small animal that has two short legs on one side of its body so it can run around hills easily. They say that to catch them, you run toward them in the opposite direction and knock them over. It's kind of a Scottish "shooting snipe" story.
12/10/09
But go to that page where you used to be able to choose who searches for you an you get:
"Your privacy settings are secured for your protection."
with a lock box. How is putting your info out there against your will "for your protection"? What if you have an abusive ex who will now find you?
12/10/09
12/10/09
I'm not one of those people who throws a big hissy fit whenever they make changes, but damn. If they're gonna be going around quietly fucking with everyone's privacy settings, I might have to deactivate again.
12/09/09
Isn't this the entire premise of NonSociety?
12/09/09
12/09/09
12/09/09
12/07/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
How can you abide by dry taters? Yah, yah, the chopped monkey ass-meat (with hair) to the right looks to be revolutionary in its repulsiveness, but, yeah, unadorned white potato is a sin against nature. The markings of a true culinary troglodyte.
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
...which connects nicely to the Casey Johnson-Jasmine Lennard storyline!
12/02/09
Horace
Much to his Mum and Dad's dismay
Horace ate himself one day.
He didn't stop to say his grace,
He just sat down and ate his face.
"We can't have this," his Dad declared,
"If that lad's ate, he should be shared."
But even as he spoke they saw
Horace eating more and more:
First his legs and then his thighs,
His arms, his nose, his hair, his eyes...
"Stop him someone!" Mother cried,
"Those eyeballs would be better fried!"
But all too late, for they were gone,
And he had started on his dong...
"Oh! foolish child!" the father mourns,
"You could have deep-fried that with prawns,
Some parsley and some tartar sauce..."
But H. was on his second course:
His liver and his lights and lung,
His ears, his neck, his chin, his tongue;
"To think I raised him from the cot
And now he's going to scoff the lot!"
His Mother cried: "What shall we do?
What's left won't even make a stew..."
And as she wept, her son was seen
To eat his head, his heart, his spleen.
And there he lay: a boy no more,
Just a stomach, on the floor...
None the less, since it was his
They ate it – that's what haggis is.
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
I never understood Haggis. I could get on board if they deep fried it, but boiling? Ugh.
12/02/09
Also, ANSWER MY GCHAT.
12/02/09
12/02/09
12/02/09
And I 100% believed it.
Stupid Scottish.