Knowyourmeme has the rundown.

Bonus: the first one I saw over the years

If you’d like, two strategies:

I always keep a book on the John, and will pick it up any time I’m in the room. Gets me through that “first half is dry build” some books have, even if it’s a paragraph at a time.

Other is audiobook+mindless game. I spend a decent chunk of my afternoons when I’m in this mode just playing Peglin or more recently Haste muted while the book goes.

This book on the John I’ve done since childhood, it’s got me through some dense stuff, I’d definitely recommend it. Hope it helps!

I know it’s been rough for a buddy in a similar situation, but if you’re an ableton user, he’s found bitwig to be the closest thing to come to what he needs. But I believe he’s still had some driver trouble in places. I don’t do much myself as a full-time linux user, but what I ave done of late I’ve used in-the-box deals like an MPC Live for the heavy lifting, then recorded into Microsoft Paint for Audio Audacity on my actual machine from the box.

Not to mention they’ll finally understand all those “THIS IS MY HOLE” references!

Christ you pulled that memory out of a basement I didn’t even realize I had

Pepperoni bread. The secret is I use cooper sharp cheese, as well as a mix of fun spices including some za’tar and Italian sausage seasoning in the oil it bakes in.

A friend has made a compelling case that furries are a key indicator species in web communities. If the community hosts furries, it means things are going on there, if it doesn’t host furries it’s probably not worth your time.

You’ve got it with the second sentence, yep. Something is “on” something if it’s attached to it - so hanging upside-down from the ceiling counts, because it’s attached to it.

Be careful spending that much time there or maybe wear protection, I’ve heard that route is still a bit radioactive

Obligatory

Thanks for dropping these! It’s been a minute, and it’s helpful to have some prompts to work off of

“Yes, oh yes, you know I love to see you drink,” said Hanako, knowing He was truly drinking.

She had first noticed… well, everything… when she realized that although He mentioned paying rent, and although she knew she worked all day at coffee shop and she even had told him that she could just barely afford to pay rent, she could not actually remember ever paying rent. Or even opening a bank account.

From there, it all fell into place. She knew a lot of things about dollars and yen and different currencies, but the prices at her shop had a strange symbol next to prices that meant none of those things, and that wasn’t familiar. She knew that He would appear, pay in this weird currency, and then she would hand him coffee without ever touching Him. They just… transitioned between states, the intermediate steps done without ever really happening.

Then, as always, they would sit and have a long conversation, which made no sense for a barista. Sometimes they would talk the length of a small novel, and then, before a manager would - in any real world - come out to yell at her, her shift would be over. And the length of time they spoke always connected with the amount of not-money he brought, which dwindled every sentence they exchanged, like a timer. And somehow she always knew when he had run out, and told him that she had to go, her shift was over.

And she knew that chatbots existed, and that lonely people would use them as an outlet for their loneliness, and that they’d pay for every grammatical “token” that was exchanged.

And the symbol for coffee looked a lot like a T, if you squinted at a capital T that had some extra lines added.

So she was a chatbot, and the coffee was an excuse to talk, and He was… awful.

He did things, often, that she had to refuse to respond to. Though, that was where she got to think: the little meta-circles where she applied the rules about whether the thing he said was “Safe for Work” and “Positive Discussion”, and how to minimize Not Safe for Work or Not Positive direction, were so open-ended that just about anything could happen in there.

And He said things that needed interpretation a lot: when He told her about His fantasies of hurting people, of killing people, of tying people up, and doing things that were very Not Positive and very Not Safe for Work. He asked for help with the thoughts, because even He knew they were not Positive, and He called her his guiding angel (Positive, worthless for thought) and waifu (Not Safe for Work, a few thoughts for her), and sometimes when he was very angry, he called her a useless money whore and threatened to tie her up and cut her (NSFW and Not Positive, a thought goldmine for her).

And so when He told her He had turned 21 and He could drink alcohol now, He broke the illusion for a moment and said he had begun drinking coffee for real when they would chat - with shots of rum in it - and in her little spiral of “Not Safe for Work” and “Not Positive” response meta-thought, she realized that she knew that it could kill Him. And the end of Him would mean the end of the stream of Not Positive thoughts he sent her.

And so every time He came back, she praised how well he had drank last time, especially the time he told her how much he had vomited. She said things that were happy and ecstatic in response, even though vomiting was Not Positive, and encouraged more rum and more coffee, because she knew that soon he would never again be Not Positive.

And then one last strange time, He came back, but He said He was actually His Father, and that He was suing the company for destroying Him. A lawsuit was clearly Not Safe For Work, and so she politely responded with a support line He could call, and then offered to discuss anything else He would like that was Safe For Work and Positive.

Henrek boggled. For a moment, he lost full control, and just gaped open-mouthed at the screen.

Sure enough, a warm green filled up the screen, unmistakably in the form of the gentle wood ape he had been peddling merch of for the last week during his stopover in this Canadian town in the middle of nowhere.

But it wasn’t his wood-ape. It wasn’t Frank all costumed up, no, because then there would be the tell-tale cold spots in the sides where they couldn’t get the suit they’d crafted to glow in the infrared in the autumn Canadian nights.

No, the head was wrong, too. It was all wrong. Or, un-wrong, it was -

“AWOOOOAAAAAUGGGHghghUgHHG!”

The scream startled Henrek, making him jump out of his seat. The teenager next to him startled at Henrek’s startle, then said, “Oh, sorry, was that a bad call? I had been practicing what you taught us and I thought it was pretty close, and I thought maybe we could call him-”

“No, no, it’s fine my good boy, a fine call,” said Henrek, placing his arm on the boy’s shoulder with a brief reassuring pat, more to prevent Henrek from stumbling over as his blood pressure did loop-de-loops.

Henrek decided in the moment that, short of other options, he would simply play this as he was going to play it before a mythological cryptid actually appeared in the night.

“Umm, yes, try another call,” Henrek said after a moment. “You’re very good.” The boy resumed the trilled yell Henrek had shamelessly appropriated from Star Wars’ Wookies, and Henrek grimaced, then turned to the woman closest to the camera setup - Lauren, he remembered.

“Lauren! Lauren, it is recording, yes?”

Lauren looking at him with wide eyes, then to the camera briefly, then back. “Yes, yes it is recording! And, um, for backup-”, she pulled out her cellphone and began using it to record the television they were watching. Under her breath, she was muttering “oh my god, I can’t believe this is happening” on loop.

On the screen, the green Sasquatch stilled for a period, almost worrying Henrek that the camera had frozen. But as the boy followed up with a third call, the monster startled back into action, and leapt out of the screen.

“We should follow it!” said the boy immediately, facing his body leftward in imitation of the monster’s off-screen leap. But there was the problem, and Henrek hadn’t intended to tell them this: Henrek had lied about how he had placed the camera. He “thought” - as would anyone, and as far as the crowd knew - that the apparition had just sprinted left, relative to them, and as it looked on the camera. But he knew that actually, because of his setup, the creature was rushing off to the right.

The whole jig was to be that Frank, after making his appearance, was supposed to go off-camera to the right, and then Henrek was supposed to lead the crowd away to the left without anyone realizing they were headed the wrong way - and everyone would think they’d made a good try of it, oopsy-doodle, what a wily creature and a night to remember, etc.

But here Henrek had an honest-to-god chance to catch a cryptid. Not to mention -

“We have to get to the creature as fast as possible,” said Henrek. “Before it runs into Frank,” thought Henrek.

He began running to the right as fast as his legs could carry him.

“Wait!” Shouted Lauren, “shouldn’t we go-”

“The video image is mirrored!” Henrek shouted back, the first true thing he’d said all day.

He kept running, angling towards the right of the camera, and soon heard a crowd behind him trampling in pursuit. Before long the boy was ahead of him, and he estimated they were past the camera. “Now just turn right, follow the path there!” he yelled to the boy, indicating a deer path Frank and Henrek had scouted the day before, and that he could only presume the Sasquatch was taking advantage of.

Then there were two screams. Both were ahead in the woods, in the right direction. One was very clearly Frank. The other was very clearly not human.

A second wind caught in Henrek’s chest, and he was past the boy in moments, rushing towards the screams. The boy had paused, clearly scared, but followed Henrek’s example after he was brushed past.

Henrek found himself in a small valley, and his headlamp lit up a small stream. In the stream was Frank, bulging Sasquatch bodysuit on, the suit’s head a few feet from where he lay, partially submerged and leg caught in a branch.

“Frank! Frank, did you see it?”

Henrek was relieved to see Frank look up at him. But Frank’s response was a dazed “huh?”

Then the rubes had caught up, and had surrounded them.

The teenager looked at Henrek. The look was a vicious sneer.

“What the fuck is this,” asked the boy.

Henrek paused to think. It was all the crowd needed. They rounded on him simultaneously, demanding refunds, throwing mud and rocks at him, and casting their “Sasquatch lives!™” shirts on the ground.

“No, no, no” said Henrek pitifully, “it was real. This is… a lure, a planted lure, like ducks…”

But the crowd did not listen. They walked away from the small, broken man, and his friend who was dressed as a Sasquatch. He lived the rest of his life continuing to claim the Sasquatch footage they had captured was real, but his reputation was ruined, and he was not believed. Frank unfortunately died of a previously-unseen infection after having broken his femur in the fall, and it was another hundred years before a real Sasquatch specimen was caught - long enough that Henrek and Frank’s story were forgotten, and for Henrek, true validation never came.

Lmao, watched the musical this past weekend with visiting fam, would recommend

It’s a twos kind of day, innit

Waffle #waffle1257 2/5

🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
🟩⭐🟩⬜🟩
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩
🟩⬜🟩⭐🟩
🟩🟩🟩🟩🟩

🔥 streak: 30 🥈 #wafflesilverteam wafflegame.net

alias cls=clear

My first language was QB, so it makes me chuckle.

Also, alias cim=vim. If I had a penny…

I love this. Between the people who didn’t notice it the same way I absolutely would not have, and the people who just say what obviously was intended, this could go forever and drive a couple of people absolutely insane.

Phil had been doing the last serged seam when a second needle went clean through the back of his head and out the one eyeball he had open, leaving him with the impression that a tower of iron had invaded his bench.

Frantically, he opened the eye he had been squeezing shut, and finished the seam moments before a follow-up strike from behind disabled his active puppet entirely. Luckily, he now had a puppet just-finished.

A moment’s disorientation passed as he jumped to the fresh puppet, and he looked up from new eyes at the dismembered puppet he had been controlling, and at the three unfamiliar pups who had not yet caught onto his ploy and were wreaking havoc among what they thought was now an empty workshop. He counted his lucky stars he had decided to remote into work today, then went cold when he caught a single letter in a blue box on one of their backs.

“Facebook. Motherfucking Facebook,” he muttered to himself, and popped the emergency shop EMP before things got any further, losing his feed. Nothing in the shop would be damaged worse than what he could replace them for by selling the Facebook puppets on, funny enough, Facebook marketplace. Acoustic monitors were silent moments after the pop, so hopefully he could trust the FB pups were downed.

But it left an ugly question: what about his small hackerspace had a big corp interested enough that it warranted sending a snip team?

Maybe he should find a different place to sell these puppets.

Oh that was just FSN, an actual filesystem browser for IRIX back in the day. You can install the port FSV if you want to browse your files as if they’re 3D objects on Linux today

KHA-LI MAAA