posting this on twitter will get you put into witness protection
The magic of childhood is that you were constantly encountering new things. The best way to feel that way again is to fill your life with new experiences.
The magic of childhood is that you were constantly encountering new things. The best way to feel that way again is to fill your life with new experiences.
Can motherboard designers like, all get together and decide on a single key to enter bios. Please?
Yes. Please.
I once designed a keyboard that automatically spammed ESC/DEL/F1/F10/F12 from the instant it powered on because it was the only way to get into the fucking bios
THEY DO!!! I’VE SEEN IT!!! Those motherfuckers run across those trees head down with no spacial awareness and get so startled and bewildered when they bump into eachother. It’s hilarious
Concept I’ve been stewing on for a while here. I’ve got a name for it now and I’m calling it the Shot Dog Factor. It’s a numerical value, assignable to any internet post, which represents the average number of engagements it needs to reach before someone comes along acting like this post shot their dog.
And for the sake of High Number = More Danger, which feels like the intuitive and sensible read, let’s call it the inverse. As in the chance that any given interaction results in a Shot Dog response.
“Hee hee haa haa” type of silly shitpost? Low Shot Dog Factor. Largely safe. A genuine political opinion? Critically high Shot Dog Factor. Guaranteed to elicit such a response if it breaks containment.
As a result of this phenomenon, you see phrasings and circumventions added specifically to lower the Shot Dog factor. Every “now I know this doesn’t apply to EVERYONE’S specific situation, but I just think–” about something where the non-specificity was obvious, but OP needed to add that disclaimer to avoid the Shot Dog from someone who thinks it needs to apply to them.
And another–perhaps the most–critical thing to understand about the Shot Dog factor is that 0 is not a valid value. There’s a discontinuation at 0. And as such, the Shot Dog limit, as engagement goes to infinity is, in fact, 100%. Any and every post you have ever made, given enough containment breaching, WILL piss someone off in wild ways. You can lower the Shot Dog factor but it is never 0. Sometimes when a post of yours escapes containment, you must simply sit back and accept this reality.
I saw a 1837 obituary say that a woman left behind “two interesting children” am wondering if that was an insult to her kids or they were genuinely cool
the thing i really do not get from these american GO VOTE liberals is that they’re spending so much more time scolding potential non voters than saying or doing anything about trump and his supporters who’ve invested public voting offices and pledged to steal the vote no matter what. like. shouldnt that be your worry/priority. that even if kamala is elected these guys have spent the last four years passing laws to make sure trump wins it no matter what. if it goes to the supreme court and they hand over the vote to him, are you just gonna…. go vote harder? do you really believe that the guy you scream is a fascist (which he is tbc, openly so) is just gonna roll over and shake his fist and accept the results. you spend more time screaming at communists and muslim americans for supposedly being defeatist and calling kamala a genocidal monster (which she is, openly so) than you’ve spent building any kind of safeguard or support network against trump and his buddies claiming the election no matter the real results. how dumb is that
it’s always been a little weird to me, seeing people in a community i share speak about needing to escape immediately if trump wins, but having no long-term plans for trump losing. even besides the apathy that will very obviously immediately follow the election/inauguration, these people do accept that things get worse under the democrats, and that republicans can still make things worse themselves even if their figurehead isn’t head of state.
and it’s a good point you make, that the trump clique will push even harder for more violence if they lose. it’s such an obvious thing, too, but it’s a complete blindspot for the liberals.
kamala has openly talked about wanting to invite republicans to govern with her! she’s more than amenable to work with these fascists even if she wins and they were to suddenly, inexplicably drop all claims of election stealing and violence! what does that make her then? and even in the face of that you have trump and company whove been openly putting in place election officials who’ll refuse to ratify a democrat win and a supreme court who owe him everything. who keep excitedly talking about the upcoming political violence against their enemies and their open desire for a fascist state. and yet everyone in denial and thinks that kamala can just….. sweep the election somehow, and they won’t do any of it? and that even if they did, this whole circus wouldnt repeat in four years, while palestinians continue being murdered and cubans are starving?
just complete and utter cognitive dissonance while yelling at supposed defeatism or moral purity lol
in much more interesting news, today at work I got to explore an abandoned 500-year-old castle, seized by the state because of the owner’s massive tax evasion
we spent an hour and half going all over the grounds, I’d never felt so #urbex
just want to point out that we found this door at one point
WHY
seeing this door makes me feel like i have never truly contemplated the possibilities of doors as a concept, as though a new understanding of what it means to be a door has been forced upon me
ok if u want like endless refreshing beverages that are basically free like, just buying a bit of mint and putting it in ice water is truly a game changer. started doing this yesterday and i feel noticeably more hydrated altho its kinda chicken/egg because im probably drinking more water because it tastes better. anyhow, i feel like this is a good thing to give guests if you are entertaining guests too.
also this isn’t my house its an air bnb so don’t judge the decor i would def put floral wallpaper up if i had weird protruding things on my walls like this and i certainly wouldnt waste time and money framing a picture
(I will now go down an entire gallon of gasoline and pour bleach onto my eyes now)
What the Hell, man? Sunny’s legs don’t bother you, but this makes you want to quick fade out of existence? I don’t see the problem.
My MLP standard are different from my personal ones.
What are you freaking out about, though? Did you not realize you are trapped here, as I am? Taking the pledge is irrelevant. Tumblr is the Hotel California. You can check out anytime you like, Darling, but you can never leave.
Many will be returning to this Hell hole from a far worse place than Hell itself thanks to the efforts of one Billionaire. And I for one welcome our wayward brethren and sisters back to the herd.
Meh, can’t really say your wrong because ye ain’t, but still, we are all different and different things freak us out in different ways, so with that said I’m going invisible because this freaks me out
can we explain to early-twenties autistic lgbt people that they . cant be saying these things. you cant be calling people ‘degens’ in your dni you cant do that. you cant do that man. can we do a history lesson. you cant do that
YOU CANT DO THAT MAN
“in defense of using the term degen, it’s generally applied to pedophiles” - conservative man who might actually shoot a trans woman if he saw one within 50 meters of his child, and also LGBT tumblr users who do not know things they should know
you mean she isnt just smoking a cigarette? but a weed cigarette?
It’s called a bunt…. Not weed cigarette… And yes, it is a weed bunt. They all smoke weed bunts before we kiss. (They are my girlfriends,)
They don’t look like they smoke weed.
Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. Fuck You. I’m so angry you are so lucky my three weed smorking girlfriends are rubbing my shoulders to calm me down I’m so mad.
Your “weed smoking girlfriend” has a Hello Kitty tattoo on her belly. The one in the middle.
I printed out a photo of your avatar and taped it to my punching bag that I punch and I mutter your URL with every strong punch I punch you twerp…. Don’t ever Talk about Blaiz or the wicked Tat(tattoo) I drew on her ever again I Don’t wanna see you standing outside my home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again ok leave us alone this is the FINAL FUCKING WARNING
Well that escalated quickly……
What, was that? Hmm? Come again. *Blaiz grabs my shoulder* Come on Jory, they aren’t worth it, please. * I jerk my shoulder shaking her hand off* NO! NOOOOO!!! *starts to just pummel you with my big fucking fists. With each blow I let out a furious yell. The blows come quicker and harder and the yells get louder. I’m yelling so loud and now I’m crying. BREAKING POINT. The week was hard and I can’t take anymore. I’m opening sobbing at this point while you blood gurgle. All three of my girlfriends struggle to pull me off and they finally succeed and lead me away from the goo pile that is now your body*
haha oh my god
who even is this dude? someone needs some anger management classes.
love how he keeps reminding us that “I HAVE THREE GIRLFRIENDS”, “THEY ALL KISS ME”, and “THEY SMOKE WEED HURRP DURR”.
and let’s not forget the “Blaiz” and her “wicked tat”, or that he doesn’t “wanna see you standing outside [his] home at 3 am holding your weird dripping brown bags ever again”, and that this is “the FINAL FUCKING WARNING”.
“the goo pile that is now your body”
i’m dying over here, jesus
please, Jory, come challenge me to a bout of internet witticsisms; i promise, it’ll be fun.
*shoots you dead* Heh, idiot… *leaves with my three weed smorking girlfriends to go hold hands and kiss.*
this dude playin omg
Come again? *The bar falls silent. No one dares to make a sound, as you have just said a very poor choice of words at a very dangerous time. I remain slumped over the bar, not looking back to you. One hand limply holding an almost empty bottle, the other hand cradling my head. I repeat the question, this time louder.* Come again?! *You can hear me slur the words, the sentence sounds like a real struggle for me to get out. I’m clearly intoxicated. A bead of sweat rolls down your face as you realize you might have just fucked up in a very major way. Everyone else in the bar is pretending to not notice what is going on. The bartender idly washes a mug with a cloth. His eyes are closed and he’s muttering something to himself. A handful of people hurriedly leave. One person looks back at you, a look of sorrow on their face. They almost say something, but shake their head and cast their eyes down to the floor, and leave. But not you. You stand, petrified. A quick look at me reveals I’m still at the bar. You look to the exit, there’s still time. But there’s not, there’s not, there’s not. Your fate was sealed the moment you opened your mouth.* Mother fuck.. what did you say?! *I slowly rise from my stool and being to lumber over to you. I look a mess. My hair is unkempt, I haven’t shaved in what looks like months, there are dark heavy bags under my eyes, my shirt is stained and has holes in it, and I’m missing a shoe. But the main thing you notice is the gun tucked into my jeans, and my massive muscle arms that look like they were made for punching. You know that song about the boots that were made for walking? Yeah, it’s like that only instead of boots it’s my muscles and instead of walking it’s punching. As I drunkenly sway over to you, you think of your family… Will they mourn you, or will they try and forget this blotch of stupidity, that their child insulted the Jory publicly, ever happened to their family? Your thoughts are cut short as I now stand face to face with you. I grab your face and pull you even closer.* Playin?! There was nothing playing… no playing you fuck. No playing… it was real.. the realest thing I’ve ever know.. felt… Love. I loved them… Blaiz…. Chas-Chas… Funk… I loved all three of em… but they…*My face is wet with tears and I’m blinking constantly in vain to hold them back.* They left me… left… *Almost instantly the sadness leaves my face and is replaced with pure anger.* Playin? Playin?! *My hand leaves your face and starts to head to what you think is the gun. You close your eyes and see God looking at you, shrugging. ‘Pft, you brought this upon yourself dude.’ He says as he waves his hands at you dismissively. But instead of the gun, my hands grab yours. Your eyes jolt open and the anger is gone from my face. There is only sadness.* Left me… * I fall to the floor and sob.* Wow, grow up. *You say before you leave the bar but are hit almost immediately from a car and are killed upon impact.*
“the term mpreg is inherently transphobic because pregnancy is gender neutral” I hate to tell you this but in the pregnancy fetish fanfiction community they also use the term fpreg
hey just want to remind my american followers that the US is still one of the most influential nations in the world and that one fascist in power makes everything worse everywhere for a long time. please don’t fuck this up for the rest of us
maidens if you are going to flee dramatically from my castle in the middle of the night once i reveal my true nature to you please leave your candelabra on the little ledge by the portcullis we are running out of them
starting to think these maidens are stumbling in soaked through from the rain just to steal my beautiful gowns and homewear are any of you actually lost
At the checkout in Home Goods loading the belt with nothing but candelabras in all shapes & sizes while the cashier watches sympathetically and asks if it’s the maidens again
imagine one of those country songs that’s all “no more women I’m in love with my truck” but as the song progresses it becomes increasingly clear that the lyrics are describing a literal gay relationship with Optimus Prime
Idk why the smallness of the little kitten makes me break out into Spanish when baby talking to him. Spanish is not my first language but some things are yet to be explained by science
El es un gatito pequeño. Hola gatito. ¿Cómo estás hoy? Hola, guapo. Eres un bebé, si.
The closer I get to this thing the better my Spanish gets
just got fired from my government job… apparently they can control the weather with space lasers now so they don’t need me to stand on a dark tower and chant in a big bellowing voice to summon clouds and winds of fear and frost
sorry to hear that, but it’s happening all over. i recently got replaced at my job of luring sailors to their death on the rocks by an iphone and a loudspeaker
That’s a bummer to hear everyone is getting hit :/ I got replaced as the ghoul shaking your pipes and creaking your floorboards at 3am by shoddy new construction that does it on its own
I should get you guys in touch with the Angels Who Used To Be Responsible For Species That Went Extinct, they’ve got a support group for this
The post I just reblogged made me think about “For sale: baby shoes, never worn” and how, now, in our time of dramatically reduced infant and child mortality and increased abundance, the more statistically likely interpretation of that six-word story is this:
“Extended family and friends have gifted us too much stuff for our kid. They didn’t even get a chance to wear these shoes before they outgrew them.” And if that’s not an indication of amazing progress, I don’t know what is.
my fucking dad used my phone number to sign up for some kind of democrat campaign bullshit so now i’m being flooded with texts from tim walz referring to me by my dad’s name
ALT
