okay, i’ve had a moment to collect my feelings and,
this movie looks so unprofessional like…
blue light is being cast on her hair from the portal that is clearly not casting a blue light on the environment.
the creeper is backlit by a soft blue light, while this goober is clearly backlit by a harsh white light.
also, the whole thing is backlit! nobody has light on their face in this trailer!
even here, you can clearly see the light is behind everyone, but they are supposedly facing eachother!?
why does this look like this!? why even bother with live action actors when the whole movie is animated!? and don’t even get me started on the animation.
there’s nothing technically wrong with the models… but it all looks so “minceraft mobs if dey wur reel!!1!”
i swear i saw this same sheep render in, like 2015.
i hope you know that if you tell trans men and mascs they have to “earn” their manhood/masculinity, to be “real men” and never dress feminine ever, or “PROVE” that they’re men/mascs in some fashion, you go straight to hell. straight to hell with you. do better.
“what if kids identify with something and it ends up just being a phase-?” good. stop teaching and expecting kids (and adults honestly) to formulate permanent traits and ideas of themselves. everything in life is a phase. that doesn’t make it any less legitimate while you experience it. let people explore themselves and know it’s okay if what you think about yourself changes.
You aren’t “behind” in life. But it’s valid to feel that way and it’s valid to grieve the years you lost to trauma, mental illness, or just general surviving.
i just got an $800 medical bill i thought i already paid off in the mail. im in between paychecks after not working for weeks, so if you could share i would appreciate it. :^)
The grapevine is saying that Matt Mullenweg has just announced to his automattic employees that starting today, any resignation will be effective immediately to try to prevent leaks.
I’m sure this will prevent the leaks and no one will tell anyone what it’s internally announced anymore.
You should look a gift horse in the mouth though. Just because it was free doesn’t mean it isn’t your responsibility to make sure it’s healthy.
Not to mention all horse medicine is expensive, including dentistry, so for all you know they could just be passing off vet costs to you
Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Don’t look at a gift horse. Don’t accept a horse as a gift. Be extremely skeptical of anyone trying to bind you to the ownership of a horse.
Climb upon the back of your gift horse and allow it to walk you to the river
somehow, I only just put together that a “gift horse” means a horse that is gifted to you, and not some kind of strange horse themed deity of generosity that is dropping goodies into your gullible hands from their giant horse maw.
The sheer number of people in the notes who thought this is amazing. There is love and light and beauty in the world.
For those confused, this saying is about being given a horse for free. You check a horse’s teeth to estimate its age and check for certain health conditions; when buying a random horse from a random guy in Old Timey Times (horses tend to have pretty thorough paperwork these days), it was expected that you’d check the horse’s teeth to make sure the seller wasn’t lying to you about the horse’s age and quality. The idea is that if someone is giving the horse to you for free, it’d be rude and entitled to check its age.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth” essentially means “don’t criticise or second-guess your blessings”. Similar (but not identical) to “beggars can’t be choosers”. A modern version of the same saying could be “don’t check the mileage on a free car”.
You guys have some very complicated horse mythology
As someone who grew up around horses I got a couple things to add,
One
even with the paperwork I have never ever seen someone buy a horse without driving out and looking every inch of the horse over then setting a time to come back with the trailer and a brand inspector
B
If you are being gifted a horse?
It’s a murder horse it has tasted blood and longs to taste it again
Do not except gifted horse, who knows how hands have touched them, and whose blood that lays upon the hoof,
One last thing have we as a society learned nothing from Troy
#ok 1 people DO buy horses without paperwork or having them vetted all the time #these people are the biggest idiots on the planet #unless you are paying $500 for a horse in that case u look at it and go #it’s got 4 legs and is still breathing #and 2 free horses come in 3 distinct models #A) someone needs to get rid of it fast and that horse has gotta disappear #B) horse is so fucking evil and hates humans so much they literally can’t sell it and don’t want any questions #C) horse is being re-homed to a beloved trainer or horse retirement situation where it’s going to be a lesson pony forever or #a pasture ornament for the rest of its life
“I promise I won’t stay up late” is the biggest lie a trans girl can tell you. Never believe her. She’ll still be texting you at 2am about the Gundam figures she’s been building instead of sleeping.
Recently had to talk to someone who had perfection paralysis (or, in the words of Adam Savage, hamstrung by possibilities).
I’ve been doing artistic work for myself and others for nearly two decades now so here’s my advice.
It’ll never be perfect. And even if it *is*, you will come to nitpick and dislike things about it in time. You have to learn to sit with that discomfort, know that everything is flawed, and that artistic growth is an infinite path. So do the thing.
I just spent ten days in my childhood home to keep an eye on things
I have hidden 100 small yellow ducks all over the house
I am very excited for my parents to be back
a first update: we have a neighbour who empties the mailbox while my parents are away and this morning I got a notification from our front door camera and watched said neighbour find what I know to be a tiny yellow duck in the mailbox (the camera is too far away to actually see), stare at it for a moment, and place it carefully back inside the mailbox
THE FIRST DUCK HAS BEEN FOUND
They just came home after a friend’s birthday party and I’m guessing went straight to bed, because my dad just sent a photo to the family group chat of the duck I placed on his bed with only the caption “thank you 😘” which makes me suspect they haven’t found any of the others yet. Or noticed that this one has a number on the bottom.
Tomorrow they’re going to find more of them and realise what they’re in for and that’s when the real joy begins.
I just spent half an hour on the phone with my dad mostly giggling maniacally while he complained at me. He thought it was a singular duck and then went to get fresh PJs and “another bloody duck” fell out and now he can’t rest until he has found as many as possible. It is half an hour to midnight, he is prowling the house trying to spot more ducks, and he begrudgingly admitted he still loves me anyway. My mother is significantly less invested but not caring does not protect you from The Ducks. I am absolutely ecstatic with how this is going.
If I ever need to explain my parents’ different personalities to somebody who does not know them, it will be like this: my dad, upon finding the second duck in his pyjamas, refused to believe that there would be more of them, and then went absolutely feral with the hunting instincts of a particularly determined bloodhound. He found 40 of them within about an hour. He has created an Excel sheet to keep track of which ones are still missing (I wrote numbers on the bottom of each duck). He keeps calling me to swear at me and then grumble that he still loves me.
ALT
He did not appreciate it when I told him about zookeepers throwing a pumpkin full of meat into a tiger enclosure.
My mother, on the other hand, thinks the whole thing is hilarious. She loves the ducks. She has accepted the ducks. She’s sad that my dad insists on collecting the ducks because she thinks they should just stay where they are and become part of the decor. “I reckon I will find them when I find them,” she says. I told her that I had to replace one because the original number 4 dropped on the tiles and got decapitated and she thinks I should dramatically stage it next time I visit.
ALTALT
[Image descriptions in alt text]
This is genius well done. Please tell me you labeled them 1-101 while skipping, say, 37, affording your father days of pleasure trying to find Duck 37.
Better yet: Hide duck 37 at YOUR house, so when they visit and see the bloody bird the father will explode and throw hands with you on the spot.
its so sad that radfem just means transphobe and not like. this
I have to double-check every blog name with “rad” or “radical”, and I HATE IT, because rad/radical were some of my favorite words! people who don’t respect trans men/women aren’t radical, they’re tragical!!!
YOU ARE SO RIGHT HOMIE we gotta reclaim rad and radical as phrases only trans people can use forever now
I used to do cross country in high school, and there was this guy on the team that was wonderful. Great guy. But his advice to everyone that asked how to get good was to run 20k a day.
If you don’t run, I’ll just tell you, most people’s bodies cannot take that kind of abuse. No matter how much you train, you will not be able to run 20k a day. It’s like how you can’t train to make your cuts heal faster. You recover as fast as you recover. So while a big part of what made this guy so succesful was the dedication and mental toughness needed to actually run 20k a day, an equally big part was that he healed like fucking Wolverine. And that’s fine, but it would’ve been nice if he knew that and stopped telling new guys to commit suicide by jogging.
Different guy on the team ran like, 5-6k a day, which actually isn’t all that much. His problem when he gave advice was that he didn’t really get that 5-6k a day doesn’t generally produce elite results for most people. He was lucky in the sense that he didn’t have to work all that hard to get great results, and unlucky in the sense that if he pushed himself much further than that, he fell apart.
I think about those two whenever I get advice from succesful people. The very things that make them outliers also make their advice useless to most people. Worse, they’re often outliers on totally separate ends of the same spectrum, so their advice will be contradictory.
@creamsoda-slut no, this was a thing on our team too. The 20k guy had a cast iron stomach and he loved hotdogs. I eat hotdogs as a like, a nostalgia thing, but he just truly genuinely loved them. So some runs, he’d duck into a gas station and buy some. Pair it with the fact that this guy also had a major league pot belly, and it was a sort of accidental psychological warfare tactic. I’d be running along, panting, sweating, dying of heastroke by the AZ canals, and then Mr. 20k would blitz past, potbelly jutting 3 inches past his nose, a greasy gas station hotdog in both hands, and then he’d yell HEY BABS YER DOINGF FERFIFIC and I’d realize in the kind of sluggish way you realize everything when it’s over 100 degrees that he had a third hotdog in his mouth and wasn’t even out of breath. And then he’d slap my ass and chortle through his hotdog in this sort of huffy HEUHEUHEUHEUHEU and just rocket over the horizon. It was incredible. Like running with Dionysus.
Another time, we had a girl who wore a tankini on a run to the pool. Some of the other girls were Scandalized, so the coach made a thing about it and she was super embarrassed to be called out and then for the next pool run he showed up in a yellow speedo, gave himself a wedgie up to his nips and just slow jogged in front of the complainers the whole way to the pool. There was nothing they could do. If they tried to go fast, he could just pick up speed indefinitely, he was impossibly fast, and if they went slow, he, he had no issue just taking a mozy with his buns out.
Nobody complained about the tankini after that.
At another race, him and a few other varsity were having a contest to see who could pee up a tree the highest. He won when he ran up to the tree, still pissing, and did a sort of half-backflip that resulted in him falling straight on his head while also whipping piss like 12 feet up the tree. Everyone cheered him on so fucking hard, and he was ecstatic, I distinctly remember doing one of thus chest bump things with him and getting pushed back like 8 feet, but immediately afterwards he had his race and he kept getting lost because it turned out that the whole landing directly on his head thing gave him a concussion. And despite going on like, 3 wrong turns, he still won that race.
I was never friends with him personally, I just kind of watched him in awe from a distance. An incredible human being. One of my favorite people of all time. Only flaw that he had is that he casually would tell new guys to join him for workouts, and then the rest of us poor saps who had actually tried it once would go over and have to tell the new guy to Actually Please Don’t Do That.
call your senators urging them to vote in support of this resolution! especially if they’re democrats! urge them in your own words about how much this matters to you. if you want to go even further about it, threaten to withhold your vote in the election unless an arms embargo denouncing Israel is made!
join a server with a toxic matching pfp couple who fights in the public vc, wait for everyone to leave except those two, join the call, say nothing, open farm merge valley, say nothing, deafen, play farm merge valley. this will simulate being a kid in the backseat of a road trip playing ipad with headphones while your parents approach the divorce event horizon
Absolutely not a new observation but i love that the toki pona word for animal, “soweli,” is written like this
fuck man that sure is
i showed this post to my boyfriend last time i saw it (because hes a linguistics nerd in general and a toki pona nerd in specific) and i am delighted to inform everyone that all the words for various types of animals are little fuckin dudes
but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:
start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)
measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.
remember that your great-great-uncle’s recipe says it should be soaked overnight.
become consumed with despair.
decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.
remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit.
once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but that’s how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.
now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. you’ve fucked up immeasurably.
take a minute to dwell upon your failings.
grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.
pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if you’ve just fucked up.
melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.
put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until it’s done.
remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you don’t need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)
CONSUME THE RICE.
realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen.
put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.
for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.
i really played myself with this post huh. every time it gets a note i start wanting rice.
for anyone who wants it, here is my family’s actual recipe for assyrian baked rice:
8 tbsp / 1 stick butter (you can reduce this if you don’t want to have a heart attack)
Put the rice in a pot and cover it in cold water and salt. Let it soak overnight. (If you don’t have the time to soak it, rinse the rice with cold water until it runs clear.)
Edit: The reason you want to soak basmati and other aromatic rice before cooking is to preserve more acetylpyrroline, the compound that gives aromatic rice its characteristic scent and flavor. Soaking rice allows the grains to absorb water, which reduces the cooking time, which means less time for the acetylpyrroline to cook off. It’ll still taste pretty good if you can’t do this, but you don’t want “pretty good”, you want mind-blowing, so for that perfect flavor you’ll want to soak your rice overnight. The soaking process also washes away the layer of starch on the outside of the rice, which allows the grains to separate rather than sticking together; this is why you want to rinse your rice thoroughly if you don’t have time to soak it.
Preheat your oven to 325°.
Boil three quarts of water in a separate pot. Once it’s at a fast boil, drain the rice and add it to the water. Boil for 5-7min or until one grain tastes half-cooked, but not soft. Pour the rice into a colander and rinse with cold water.
Edit: This step also helps get rid of any remaining starch on your grains, for perfectly separated rice. If your colander or strainer has large holes, you can put a paper towel/cheesecloth/clean dishcloth on the inside in order to drain your rice. Pour carefully if you’re using a paper towel, though, and put a bowl underneath your colander; I once lost a heartbreaking amount of rice when my paper towel got oversaturated and tore open.
Liberally grease the bottom of your baking pan with some of your butter. Pour the rice on top. Melt the rest of the butter in the microwave and pour on top of the rice.
Bake for 45min. (If you like, cover the rice for part or all of the baking time, but I find it gets less crispy on top if you do this.) Shake the pan a couple times during baking to ensure that the butter distributes throughout the entire dish.
Eat.
Serves four. Can easily be scaled up if needed (or down, but why would you do that?). Best enjoyed with a nice cup of chai.
how do you make a good and concise commission sheet? we got bills coming up and six dollars in our evil bank account, and if i have to beg for money on here again i’ll start crying from shame /lh
auugh i don’t wanna write recursion but it’s the best solution for what i want to achieve
Start off by creating a recursive solution but then rewrite it as iterative after for performance reasons.
Certain problems are easier to think in recursive terms, but iteration is often favorable since it doesn’t enter functions over and over again causing the stack grow in size.
will definitely have to rewrite a more performant solution (or cache the solution since i am only processing a shitton of data), i only have to do recursion because i can’t add 80mb of binary data and expect dijkstra to solve that and need to preprocess
will definitely look into rewriting for iteration then (if my mvp even works)
