i hate it because they're so so fucking right
the way i screamed
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@nyrithsamandri
i hate it because they're so so fucking right
the way i screamed

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A comic about people and anxiety
The problem with having OCs is that sometimes you wanna read about your little guy being in situations but unfortunately he is YOUR little guy and no one is gonna put him in that situation but you. Tragic.
my 12 year brother is talking to his friend on the phone and trying to arrange plans to go over to his house this afternoon and was saying that our dad could drop him off maybe and i just heard him say "well i could maybe come over earlier but my dad is busy sharpening his scythe"
muffled voice coming from the phone speakers: how long till the scythe is sharp
One time my grandfather picked me up from the airport and was driving me home and asked if I wanted to stop at McDonald's. And I was like sure, we can stop at the one in [town].
And he was like "we don't need to go to [town], we'll just go to the one in your town. And I said my town doesn't have a McDonald's. And he was like "okay, we'll go to the closest one". And I was like right, the one in [town]. And he said "that's twenty minutes away from your house, you really don't have one closer?" And when I confirmed that he said "well, it doesn't have to be McDonald's. It can be whatever fast food place is in your town." And I was like there is no fast food in my town. There is no food in my town period unless you want to stop for gas station hot dogs. And he was like "that doesn't make any sense. Then what do you do when you need food?" And I said I drive to [town]. And he said "every single time you need food or groceries?" And I said yeah, that's sort of how the fixed nature of buildings work. And then we drove in silence for ten minutes while this man tried to wrap his head around the fact that I had to drive twenty minutes to town to go grocery shopping.
Anyway a lot of you remind me of this experience pretty much every time the urban/rural divide comes up on this website.
I'm really enjoying that this is picking up notes because most of them are people like "oh yeah, 20 minutes isn't even that bad, I have to drive an hour to my [town]" and then there's a handful of people freaking out like "oh my god, are Americans okay??? Shouldn't your government be doing something about this????"
Idk what the government is gonna do about it man, I think me and my 6 neighbors within walking distance are just gonna have to keep driving to [town]
Reading through the notes on this is wild because they seem to fall into three groups:
Yeah, same.
I flatly refuse to believe such a place is possible. You're all making this up.
I wouldn't want to live in a place like that, so obviously nobody would, and it should be illegal for these places to exist.

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Hey so I'm gonna be very very honest here.
And this is going to make a lot of people very angry to hear.
But a lot of y'all on this website are truly deeply genuinely never going to be capable of any kind of real narrative analysis--and I don't mean 'being right all the time' I mean 'meaningfully engaging with the text in any way'--
Because you are, fundamentally, incapable of comprehending that writers usually do things on purpose.
The themes are there on...purpose.
The match cuts were meticulously designed and put there to communicate something.
The VA's delivery of a line was being directed. Inflection and tone change the meaning of dialogue. This is intentional. There are entire teams of people shaping those choices and deciding which take to use based on what works best for the story.
Information is being revealed in a specific order, on purpose, to craft an emotional arc and guide the audience's understanding.
A character's romantic preferences are only, and SHOULD only be, their primary motivation if the genre is romance. That is why there is a genre called that. Most stories are other genres.
Creators who dislike a character generally give them LESS attention, MORE boring storylines, and LESS screentime.
Sometimes curtains are just blue. But if the shot composition or written narration takes time to HIGHLIGHT, especially more than once, that the curtains are blue, then the blueness of the curtains is by definition narratively important.
"Cite your sources" is not a witch's curse that banishes People With Different Opinions to the shadowrealm of Being Wrong. Someone making points that challenge your perceptions, while including screenshots and explicit examples, cannot be dismissed with "cite your sources" because they are literally doing that. Don't @ me on this one I've seen shit in the wars, y'all.
Failing to understand these things WILL bar you from ever really engaging with or understanding any narrative more complicated than Paw Patrol for the rest of your life.
I am very sorry if that makes you angry.
“character who gained weight to show how they are healthy now” trope my beloved
mom said it was my turn on the deer carcass :(
the secret sneefer
someone asked it if it had a second to talk about timeshares
I JUST FLEW IN FROM SEATTLE, AND BOY ARE MY ARMS TIRED
Don't talk to me or my son ever again
*muffled* no, I haven't seen the succulent blueberry pie that you left on your windowsill. never speak to me again
murrica
oh ye of little face
boy is all torso?
i genuinely don't think there's much, if anything, hotter than someone clearly having a blast doing something they're really good at. doesn't really matter what it is. the combo of competence and joy is absolutely lethal to me
Blue Prince | Welcome to Mt. Holly, where every dawn unveils a new mystery. Navigate through shifting corridors and ever-changing chambers in this genre-defying strategy puzzle adventure. But will your unpredictable path lead you to the rumored Room 46?

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One important thing to remember about being trillionaire is that it doesn't actually have any meaning. He's long since gathered more money than he could ever spend, it's just keeping score. You don't seize the money, you seize the property. But it is a nice reminder of how obscene the system thatnwe live under actually is, and what absurdities it produces. Anyways, Death to Capitalism.
It's a hoarding disorder. If it was cats instead of money there'd be an intervention.
me, 2 weeks into playing ffxiv: i dont respect any of these mfs whose names i cant even remember. i will probably uninstall later when i get bored
me, half a year into ffxiv: ok so the botanist questline in which the farmers at camp cloudtop get accused of heresy for infiltrating a non native crop into the country was PROBABLY a cover for house dzemael wanting to cause further stress on house haillenarte bc by destabilizing them, (the weakest link) this means house fortemps (powerhouse but kind of against the holy sees policies) will also be weakened by default. and fortemps controls the literal entry point to ishgard. its dangerous if they ever rebeled or revolted bc that can cut off ishgard from the rest of the continent. so it makes sense that the church would want them to have less influence or power overall, using house dzemael to do so bc we later know that house dzemael were the ones that tipped the fucking church abt the fucking vegetables. and house dzemael is the only house with active members that belong to the heaven's ward (grinnaux, violent guy whose murders were covered with coin & paulcrain, formerly of house fortemps. coincidentally the mfs who also arrest alphinaud and tataru of heresy)
The Blessing of Light is something that is intentionally left pretty vague by the story, probably as another way to let the player fill in the gaps with whatever they want, and while sometimes this manifests in the story treating the blessing like a bodysuit of kevlar, I think the much more interesting interpretation is to go full whump with it and establish that the only rule is that the warrior of light cannot die. Aside from the subplot in post-ARR/HW being more interesting with the real threat of death now upon them, it just adds so much sauce. We can magick away the possibility of their head getting chopped off with the superhuman reflexes Hydaelyn hath granted, and so it is very delicious to imagine someone who, rather than being unable to be meaningfully injured, is instead able to just keep going despite catastrophic bodily harm. The warrior of light just keeps fucking going, no matter how much they may wish they were dead. More blood than humanly possible spilling out onto the ground, face pale, hands shaking, still moving with eerie grace and agility, screaming with pain every time they bring another desperate strike down? Thats the good shit.
I recall the devs saying that party wipes in a dungeon are just the WoL having Echo visions on what Not to fucking do, implying that they hallucinate their death repeatedly before triumphing.
Which is equally, "That's rough buddy."
A young WoL preemptively seeing themself get incinerated by Ifrit.
apparently the average roma tomato contains 11 calories. im flabbergasted by this. it would be so easy to starve to death just eating tomatoes. i bought 30 tomatoes this week for my dehydrator, and my wife was giving me weird looks because that was 2 entire grocery bags of tomatoes. but that is 330 calories of tomato. i would need approximately 12 full grocery bags of tomatoes a day just to meet my basic caloric needs. thats like, 1 bag of tomatoes every hour and fifteen minutes. thats a tomato every five minutes. can you imagine how much your day would suck if there was a timer that went off every five minutes and then you had to eat a tomato or, eventually, you would die?
i used to see those old timey photos of photos of circus fat men and laugh a little because its like. really? this was the fattest guy anyone could find? this guy was so comically fat that he could go to a circus, and people would pay to gawk at him? this guy? i could walk into any bar in my town and lose an arm wrestling match to a guy fatter than this. 110 years ago guy was professionally fat, now he's losing to amateur hobbyists.
but then i think, you know, yes. i could outfat this man with the benefit of modern technology. i could eat two twinkies and smirk at this bastards two fucking grocery bags of tomatoes. i could do that.
but it is actually a hell of an accomplishment to do this with 1910s food. imagine the hell of being the 5 minute tomato man. like, your part time job is just chewing. 20% of your life is going to be chewing. its a grind. its awful. and then you look over, and theres this beautiful bastard, and the timer hasnt even gone off and hes eating another tomato. you're looking at him, and you're gonna say hey, i think you heard someone elses alarm, you dont have to do that, but then he gets another tomato. look at that defiant posture. look at his arms crossed. 12 bags of tomatoes? make it 20. im not scared of you, this posture says. im not scared of being alive. is it work? is it work to exist? of course its work to exist. so much chewing. but whats the alternative, let the fuckers grind you down? let the tomatoes win? he eats another one. you're grinning. you eat your tomato. you cant keep up with him but it feels a little better. this isnt a losing battle. youre alive. youve seen fat bastards before but they were rich. they got fat the easy way, with good food, with good drink, with honey and butter and jam. this guy has tomatoes. he eats another. he cant beat em but he can join em. he can do this. youre cheering. your friends are cheering. he does this for another six months and then he says hes got a new job. hes joining the circus. he is now, finally, professionally fat.
its like watching your friend in a small town get accepted to harvard. youre so proud of him. you wish you could join him, but at least one of you is gonna make it. and you know, youre proud that it is him. you give him a hug. your timer goes off. you eat a tomato. you wipe the tears from your eyes. you wave at him as he goes. your heart is heavy. your timer goes off. you eat. you eat. you eat.
Op i love this post but i also am contractually obligated to ask: What the fuck?
so sometimes i write with my brain and sometimes i write with my fingers and this time i started off writing with my brain. but then my brain got tired and my fingers kept going and i just kept watching the words pop up on my screen, and i just kept getting more and more confused by the Work of my Hands until eventually the only thing i could do was click post and hope someone smarter than me would know what just happened.
and now we’re here. confused. together.
tomato for your troubles?
so on a scale of one to ten how bad is the acid reflux
canticle of threnodies 5:7
it's almost summer do you guys want my stupid hyperoptimized lemonade recipe that takes half a day to make and whips absolute ass
Fruited Lemonade That Makes You Reconsider It All
ingredience:
lemons/limes (this needs to make up the bulk of the fruit being used, like at least 80%)
whatever other fruits or fruit scraps you want, plus any herbs/other flavorings you want to try. by fruit scraps I mean things like cherry pits, apple peels, pineapple cores, strawberry ends, things like that.
granulated white sugar, the coarser the better, 50% by weight of total citrus rinds + 100% by weight of any additional fruit. you'll measure this after you prep the fruit.
water as needed
equipment:
a few nonmetallic mixing bowls
a mesh strainer
a chinoise, ricer or some cheesecloth
a kitchen scale
a citrus juicer or reamer (manual or electric)
a potato masher
juice the citrus through a strainer - saving all rinds - and refrigerate the juice for the time being. dice the rinds and other fruits if any, keeping the rinds separate. make note of weights, and measure your sugar.
Place sugar in a large nonmetallic bowl. If using non-citrus fruits and/or any other flavorings, mix them in with the sugar and mash with potato masher. add diced citrus rinds, mix thoroughly, and mash again. cover and let stand at room temperature for at least 4 hours. this allows the sugar to draw out flavors that would otherwise get discarded with the rinds, and the rinds' acids should be enough to dissolve the sugar into a syrup.
Afterward, mash one last time, then collect the syrup by pressing the macerated mixture through a strainer/chinoise or ricer, or squeeze it through cheesecloth. if you want, this can be saved as a standalone syrup at this point, for use in cocktails or desserts. if not, slowly pour the reserved juice through the solids to to help get the remaining syrup out, and squeeze/press again. do the same thing one more time with warm water (roughly the same amount of water as juice). discard solids (or try making sangria with them!).
taste the mixture and add more water if necessary. a stronger mix is totally fine if you anticipate serving over ice on a hot day, or adding booze, or if there was a lot of non-sour fruit. keep in mind that it will taste a bit less sweet once it's chilled. pour into a pitcher and refrigerate.
citrus oils will float to the top, so stir/shake before serving. love you. enjoy.
some tried and true flavor combos:
straight lemon or lime, or any combination of the two, is of course an untouchable classic
lemon & strawberries (that's pussy babe!)
lemon & orange with a hint of vanilla (creamsiclemonade...?)
lemon & apples or apple peels with cinnamon/ginger/allspice (for late summer)
some cocktail type combos, booze optional:
lemon or lime & berries with basil + gin
lime & mint + white rum
lime & ginger + dark rum
lime & cucumber + gin
lime & orange (berries optional) + tequila
lemon, orange & cherry + brandy, bourbon, or rye whiskey
holy gods

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today is the ten year anniversary of the Pulse Nightclub shooting. a full decade ago, i lost a friend and a coworker. i was lucky. i had friends that lost several people. today, please remember and fight for all those that have died to live the life they should have been free to. i'll always remember you, Cory.
Parchment holes in manuscript repaired using embroidery circa 1417, currently in University Library Uppsala, Sweden
What wait WHAT
I love seeing parchment / vellum mended with stitching! Here are some more.