Things be here.

"we detected a mature post" yeah I'm in my 30s

listen to me, this is so so important: you've gotta get used to really giving it your 60% as a default. like don't half-ass it necessarily but try not to go over 70% or so of an ass. you'll feel better and live a happier more fulfilled life, and on the rare occasions where you do need to lock the fuck in you'll be able to pull off bullshit that the sad miserable wretches giving it their 100% can never dream off, because they're busy draining themselves dry and you have energy reserves to spare.

This is actually what I was adviced to do at the work rehabilitation program I went to. Hasn't left my mind since. 10/10 solid advice

Can anyone explain wtf is going on here especially a Korean speaker

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That is one of the most astronomical fuck up translations I have ever seen.

if anything happens in your life you should start having strange thoughts and beliefs

I GOT A FUCKING RAISE THE POTATO WORKED WTF

This potato works. Every. Fucking. Time.

Then bring me luck

the day after I posted this last time I was notified that I was selected for a really cool mentorship gig and got an unrelated glowing review at work

Hey Potato, cure my -ing cold so I can have a good time while away.

Here's the potato. Make what use of it you will. :)

This is the most considerate advice for doing stretches I've ever seen??? Initially I started to go, "...but I can't do that with my knee-" then he showed a way I could do it. I was like... whoa. A video for stretching that is actually considerate towards my disabilities. Astounding and impressive.

I think I might be about to send a deranged email

NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

this post makes me snort every single time

I literally said, "Are you kidding me?" IN THE GASPED ADMIRING WAY.

one time I went over to a friend's house and their housemate was making paper in the living room, and we saw this big tub full of water they were using to dissolve old scrap paper into a slurry, and everyone was immediately like "oh, you need scrap paper?" and started turning out their jacket pockets and producing expired coupons and bus tickets and crumpled receipts and old shopping lists and whatever else they'd been carrying round with them for no good reason, and passing it all to the paper-making housemate to make sure it was suitable before it got torn up and dropped into the tub, while people took turns stirring the slurry with a big wooden stick. it was strangely ritualistic, like presenting an offering to some kind of temple elder for inspection before placing it in a watery shrine to be devoured and reformed. pulp for the pulp god.