Well...

On the one hand, i’m amused at the joke. On the other hand, I’m a librarian and this shelving is horrifying.

Well, no shelving system is without fault.

who fucking cares if your cat eats you when you die. i hope so. my baby is petite with a petite stomach that needs to be full every 8 to 10 hours. she probably won’t even like my viscera but let her do what she needs

“your dog wouldn’t eat your corpse” dumb as fuck ngl too emotional & no survival instinct my child has let me down by turning away from my final act of love

not that it matters much or at all but including "opera" in the definition of "musical" feels running very much parallel to calling any work of Western classical lit engaging in the adaptation of common themes "fanfic"

Normal groceries like milk or bread or whatever running out is whatever. Just anotha day. But when stuff like salt or cooking oil or rice runs out it feels like You’re supposed to be here for me and you’re leaving. You’re just like everyone else

there seems to be a fundamental disagreement between microwave oven manufacturers and the producers of microwave meals over whether the customer should know the wattage of their microwave or if such details should be abstracted away from them

Ich hasse es so wie wir als Community immer nur relevant für die Politik sind wenn wir für deren Fremdenhass instrumentalisiert werden können. Wie sollen wir vernünftig trauern wenn man gleichzeitig weiß, dass in ein paar Wochen wahrscheinlich wieder mehr Leute abgeschoben werden um uns zu "schützen"? Als wären die queere Community und Vielfalt Gegensätze. Als wäre es nicht die Union selber die den meisten Hass gegen uns schürt. Als wären wir letztes Jahr von Merz nicht noch als Zirkuszelt bezeichnet worden.

Oh what's that? You only read books with lots of "spice" in them? Well then I've got a great one for you, practically the whole plot revolves around "spice". Ahem. In the week before the departure to Arrakis,

https://surveys.ecb.europa.eu/10b/banknotes/share/

https://surveys.ecb.europa.eu/10b/banknotes/share

the mark of a real actor is if they did theater before they hit it big and continue doing theater after. if they didn’t do theater before, then they are hacks and if they stop doing theater after, then they are dilettantes who lucked out. obviously this applies to all actors ever and there are no exceptions.

guy currently hurtling toward a migraine at a rate that would impress most astrophysicists: i wonder wgat is happening in my beautiful telephone