me: cereal box mascots tend to be especially fuckable because they are a subset of mainstream cartoon characters designed specifically to market pleasurable physical sensory experiences
the mantis shrimp that i have cybernetically enhanced to perceive human colors: okay i think im starting to “get” rothko
that guy that just typed :3 in chat? yeah, he’s 46 years old he has a wife and 3 kids. He has a 401k, he drives a new Lexus, he goes to Benihana with the kids on Sunday’s. He might be nuzzling in chat or whatever but he’s getting his ear chewed-out by the VP, he is going to miss the quarter-mark. He’s got tickets to next year’s Super bowl.
You will never again truly experience the joy of getting a follower on your small blog. In fact there's so many people swarming you that what could've been new close friends becomes a gray blob
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
Sometimes I send you an ask and even though you never respond, I like to imagine that you see it, and think up a funny response, and think it's too funny for the masses and you must take it to your grave
once when i was 8 years old i saw a man burn alive in front of a crowd. I don’t think i ever truly processed it but death has seemed trivial to me since
I see this reposted without credit all the time. Don’t fucking do that! Respect artists whose work you love enough to share by sharing THEIR posts or at the very least crediting them and adding links to their socials.
knowing how she acts in the early seasons (and later now that I think about it) Delia is either a massive airhead or she’s so numb to Ash’s bullshit after 10 years nothing phases her
I went to the small pizzeria in a nearby village last month and asked for a calzone, and when she brought it to me the owner had a look on her face I can only describe as bitter.
Naturally my first assumption was that she was judging me for my food order (maybe calzones are too easy compared to other pizzas and she felt under-challenged as a pizza chef?), but then I looked at my calzone and the more I looked at it, the more I felt like it might have been a failed attempt at a cat calzone.
(I didn’t ask for a cat calzone, just a calzone.)
If I had immediately identified it as a cat calzone I would have of course said something about it, such as “Aww that’s so cute! You made it in the shape of a cat!! Thank you!” — but it was too late. I hesitated too long, and it was just failed enough that I wasn’t sure it was meant to be a cat.
I think this poor woman knew her cat calzone was a failure and I wouldn’t be able to recognise her effort for what it was, hence the bitterness in her eyes when she brought it to me.
I asked my friend if my pizza looked like a cat to her, and she said “Are you saying this because of the olives? I think they were just placed randomly.”
no, I think they were meant to be eyes, and a cat nose. And those are the ears. Wait, I’ll turn it in your direction so you can see
Friend: “It’s just a pointy calzone… Maybe you should ask the chef if she meant to make it a cat?”
If I tried to make a cat calzone and the recipient of this gift went like ‘hey, sorry, is this weird-looking thing meant to be cat?’ I would sell my pizza restaurant and drown myself in the river.
After considering this, my friend said we could brainstorm a better phrasing—but then we ended up agreeing that since the chef didn’t go 'haha sorry I tried to make a cat and failed!!’ when she brought my pizza, the options were a) she didn’t try to make a cat; b) she feels humiliated by her failure, and either way it’s better to say nothing.
But I felt deeply curious about this unresolved mystery, so this week when I went back to the pizzeria I asked for a calzone again.
The options were now: a) the chef brings me a better, recognisable cat calzone and I immediately remark upon it and she’s happy and we erase the failed cat calzone from the historical record and never mention it ever;
or b) the chef brings me a normal calzone, which suggests that the vague cat shape from last time was accidental and just another instance of chronic cat pareidolia.
(I refused to consider option c) The chef brings me another failed, hardly-recognisable cat. She just doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would let that happen to her twice.)
Here’s the photo of the failed cat calzone from last time, which, according to my friend, just looks like a pointy calzone with randomly-placed olives and not a deliberate attempt to make a cat:
And here’s what the chef brought me this time:
THAT’S A CAT.
I knew it!!!!
And it looks so sad!! This cat calzone looks like it will burst into olive oil tears if you once again fail to identify it as the cat that it is
But I didn’t; I was so ready this time. I went “A cat!!!!! It’s so cute!” and the chef went like yes!!! I tried to make one last time but it looked weird :(
I said I was pretty sure it was a cat last time and apologised for not bringing it up and she said no, it’s my responsibility to make it a decent cat. She also said she was glad I’d come back and ordered another calzone because she was really bothered (“vraiment embêtée”) by that first failed attempt, and wondering if I’d noticed an attempt was made (and failed)
That’s so relatable. It’s like when you make a really embarrassing spelling mistake in a text and you’re not sure if the other person has seen it and is judging you for it. Should you bring it up? Can it go unnoticed if you don’t? It’s the cat calzone equivalent of that. I’m so glad we were able to clear the air.
I went to the small pizzeria in a nearby village last month and asked for a calzone, and when she brought it to me the owner had a look on her face I can only describe as bitter.
Naturally my first assumption was that she was judging me for my food order (maybe calzones are too easy compared to other pizzas and she felt under-challenged as a pizza chef?), but then I looked at my calzone and the more I looked at it, the more I felt like it might have been a failed attempt at a cat calzone.
(I didn’t ask for a cat calzone, just a calzone.)
If I had immediately identified it as a cat calzone I would have of course said something about it, such as “Aww that’s so cute! You made it in the shape of a cat!! Thank you!” — but it was too late. I hesitated too long, and it was just failed enough that I wasn’t sure it was meant to be a cat.
I think this poor woman knew her cat calzone was a failure and I wouldn’t be able to recognise her effort for what it was, hence the bitterness in her eyes when she brought it to me.
I asked my friend if my pizza looked like a cat to her, and she said “Are you saying this because of the olives? I think they were just placed randomly.”
no, I think they were meant to be eyes, and a cat nose. And those are the ears. Wait, I’ll turn it in your direction so you can see
Friend: “It’s just a pointy calzone… Maybe you should ask the chef if she meant to make it a cat?”
If I tried to make a cat calzone and the recipient of this gift went like ‘hey, sorry, is this weird-looking thing meant to be cat?’ I would sell my pizza restaurant and drown myself in the river.
After considering this, my friend said we could brainstorm a better phrasing—but then we ended up agreeing that since the chef didn’t go 'haha sorry I tried to make a cat and failed!!’ when she brought my pizza, the options were a) she didn’t try to make a cat; b) she feels humiliated by her failure, and either way it’s better to say nothing.
But I felt deeply curious about this unresolved mystery, so this week when I went back to the pizzeria I asked for a calzone again.
The options were now: a) the chef brings me a better, recognisable cat calzone and I immediately remark upon it and she’s happy and we erase the failed cat calzone from the historical record and never mention it ever;
or b) the chef brings me a normal calzone, which suggests that the vague cat shape from last time was accidental and just another instance of chronic cat pareidolia.
(I refused to consider option c) The chef brings me another failed, hardly-recognisable cat. She just doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would let that happen to her twice.)
Here’s the photo of the failed cat calzone from last time, which, according to my friend, just looks like a pointy calzone with randomly-placed olives and not a deliberate attempt to make a cat:
And here’s what the chef brought me this time:
THAT’S A CAT.
I knew it!!!!
And it looks so sad!! This cat calzone looks like it will burst into olive oil tears if you once again fail to identify it as the cat that it is
But I didn’t; I was so ready this time. I went “A cat!!!!! It’s so cute!” and the chef went like yes!!! I tried to make one last time but it looked weird :(
I said I was pretty sure it was a cat last time and apologised for not bringing it up and she said no, it’s my responsibility to make it a decent cat. She also said she was glad I’d come back and ordered another calzone because she was really bothered (“vraiment embêtée”) by that first failed attempt, and wondering if I’d noticed an attempt was made (and failed)
That’s so relatable. It’s like when you make a really embarrassing spelling mistake in a text and you’re not sure if the other person has seen it and is judging you for it. Should you bring it up? Can it go unnoticed if you don’t? It’s the cat calzone equivalent of that. I’m so glad we were able to clear the air.
I haven’t been able to get the full video but we just celebrated one of our steam locomotives turning 145 by chucking a chocolate cake into her firebox
So I know this post is from 2018, and I’ve gone on and on about it haunting me (it does still, and I don’t even work there anymore), but I think all these years later and so close to her own birthday, she deserves to be seen for the gorgeous locomotive she is.
She’s beautiful, we adore her, and she’s going to be 149 this year! Happy birthday, lady!
the progress of a technical object is measured by the progressive convergence of functional directions between the functions of plurivalent structures.
I understand why a lot of fantasy settings with Ambiguously Catholic organised religions go the old “the Church officially forbids magic while practising it in secret in order to monopolise its power” route, but it’s almost a shame because the reality of the situation was much funnier.
Like, yes, a lot of Catholic clergy during the Middle Ages did practice magic in secret, but they weren’t keeping it secret as some sort of sinister top-down conspiracy to deny magic to the Common People: they were mostly keeping it secret from their own superiors. It wasn’t one of those “well, it’s okay when we do it” deals: the Church very much did not want its local priests doing wizard shit. We have official records of local priests being disciplined for getting caught doing wizard shit. And the preponderance of evidence is that most of them would take their lumps, promise to stop doing wizard shit, then go right back to doing wizard shit.
It turns out that if you give a bunch of dudes education, literacy, and a lot of time on their hands, some non-zero percentage of them are going to decide to be wizards, no matter how hard you try to stop them from being wizards.
It wasn’t just the hoity-toity ritual magic stuff, either. Popular media often frames a fundamental opposition between the Church and practitioners of the Old Ways™, but on the ground, any given medieval European community’s foremost practitioner of traditional folk magic was likely to be the village priest. And again, they very much were not supposed to be doing this. There were some very pointed letters going around reminding people to cut that shit out, not that we’re naming any names, Jeremy, and no, “if you invoke the saints first it’s fine” is not going to fly with the bishop.
I feel like a lot of folks in the notes are missing a critical piece of context here because they’re not clear on what the Church’s official position toward magic actually was during the Medieval period.
In brief, the idea that magic is a. real and b. Satanic was not the party line for the greater part of the Middle Ages. Obviously the particulars varied both regionally and over time, but for the most part, the official position of the Church was that there is no power but God’s and magic is fake. The Church’s principal objection to the practices of divination, spirit-binding, etc. was that they were fraudulent, not that they imperilled one’s soul. Sometimes this was even carried to the point that accusations of witchcraft would result in the accuser getting in trouble rather than the accused; after all, if your neighbour is pretending to do wizard shit, that’s fraud, but if you actually believe your neighbour is capable of wizard shit, that’s heresy!
The hardline “magic is the work of Satan” stance that most folks are thinking of when they think of magic and the Church wasn’t particularly widespread until very late in the Medieval period, and is really more characteristic of the post-Reformation era – which adds an extra layer of hilarity to the aforementioned local clergy doing wizard shit, because from the perspective of their superiors, the problem was less “oh no, our priests are consorting with Satan” and more “god fucking damn it, our priests keep scamming people with this wizard shit”.
on Zillow like. that is not a house. words have meaning. you cannot call that a house.
what’s even worse than seeing a dilapidated shack listed for $75k is seeing a glorified shopping crate with a wall to wall millennial white interior being listed for $600k like it’s a real home. girl, that isn’t even a trailer. trailers are fine. what is up with flippers getting their hands on Home Depot sheds. like, I have no problem with improvised tiny homes but to try to sell that like it is a permanent housing solution is crazy.
i have such a love for characters who descend into madness or villainy out of deep, deep empathy. characters who fundamentally cannot cope with the cruel realities they find themselves in and blow up about it in spectacular fashion. fallen angel type characters with tears of outrage in their eyes. characters who break before they bend, and break so badly they splatter blood all over their noble ideals. every variation on it gets me so good
Reminder that aroallo people exist. Stop shaming them for wanting to have sex. Adults can consent, and having sex without wanting/having a romantic relationship is okay.
i seriously cannot comprehend the sex drive that makes one exclusively horny for captain america looking movie hunks or the victorias secret angel archetype of tall underweight women with generically pretty faces in bikinis. that shit is like carbon monoxide or infrasonic noise to my libido like my sexual senses cant even clock it
I will happily delete this if I’m derailing or taking away from the original message (initially I put this in the tags, but a friend asked me to reblog as text)
If you don’t want to pursue an autism or adhd diagnosis and you have access to a doctor or therapist you can get them to write you a note attesting to a symptom of your neurodivergence (rather than naming the condition itself) and stating the need for accommodation.
It’s something my therapist told me about when we were still working in offices. I have sensory processing issues and on multiple occasions the noise in my office was so bad I broke the skin on my hand clenching my fist.
This work-around of course won’t fix structural ableism and relies on you having access to a doctor/therapist who actually gives a crap, so still might only help a couple of folks.
I hate tech that tell me media bias without transparency in how they determine bias. Personally I think if you have to use a media bias website then you lack an understanding of how to examine the world around you.
Also the idea that certain outlets are center/left/right by virtue… like that’s not true at all lol you gotta see different sources for different types of news. Like I do not trust CNN for news about Palestine or really most of the world outside of domestic US policy and European news but I still see what they say about the US. Idk it just is so odd to me that people take those media bias charts seriously.
NYT conducted one of the biggest false stories in the decade that actually helped accelerate the genocide on Palestinians and refused to retract ANYTHING about the stories despite being proven verifiable false by multiple agencies. But it’s still considered “reliable” on Palestine by the general American public. Nevermind Israel lobby groups like CAMERA that has an impact on specifically NYT to ensure Israeli talking points are pushed.
And just from a case study of Palestine coverage, you can see why I don’t think “media bias charts” should be taken seriously.
Israel have repeatedly invaded Lebanon, supporting the Phalanges and committing massacres one after the other to such a point, Ronald Reagen had to step in to tell the Settler state to fuck off, and this stupid zionist fuck can’t figure out history before Oct 7.
