You know, honestly I'm not mad. This is still better that every other post being a guerilla marketing ploy. Makes me long for the internet of 2006.
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- 2 yr. ago
- Posts
- 18
- Comments
- 1292
- Joined
- 2 yr. ago
While I suggest changing them regularly, I have a different reasoning behind sheets and towels. I shower when I get up and frequently before bed if I feel icky or my spouse invites me. So frequency of sheets goes down because anything it transfers gets washed off in the shower. The towel is used after the shower so anything it transfers lasts all day. That said, after the move in I adopted my spouse's routine which is much more lax and changes towels every few days. On one hand I now have to track towel wash cycles consciously, on the other hand I'm not doing 3 times the towels so it equals out.
Though now that you have me thinking about it, I would absolutely change sheets daily if it were easier to do so...
As far as the class has taught, experts can't conclude shit. Some people believe society is a complex machine that will naturally correct errors like crime. Some have decided that society as a whole exists as a means for the select few to oppress the major. Others state that society naturally self governs until it exceeds a critical mass and then must be split with each new form remaining in solitude from one another. Even still some attest that society is simply a consensus value and a need for governance only stems from the problems caused bypeople not getting on board with the culturally accepted ideal.
As someone who has lived in apartments for most of my adult life, there are two easy fixes for this. If your place has a maintenance guy, hunt him down and either ask him to come by and do exactly this, or if it'd be fine for you to do it yourself. Most maintenance guys are just cool stoners who can fix things and they'll give 0 fucks if you want to fix something for them so long as you don't fuck up and have to call him to fix it.
If you have a land Lord, it's almost exactly the same. Call them, tell them you have an issue you need them to fix, then off hand mention how you'd just do it yourself and explain how before saying you wouldn't want to get in trouble for messing with their property. Again, most land lords will take you up on it and just let you.
If you have a corperate or bank land Lord, do it anyways and if anyone asks down the road just say it was like that when you got here. They're too beaurocratic to actually notice or care.
I have near crippling ADHD and prior to moving in with my spouse, my kitchen looked like this, as well as my towels, sheets, cleaners, and spice rack. Having everything ordered took away the mental load, 8 identical towels is one load a week on Sunday plus a spare if something interrupts the schedule. I never had to consider a sensory issue because they're all the exact same towel. Same for dishes, all my cups held the same amount and felt the same in hand. All my plates and bowls were identical so I couldn't have a preferred one. All of them were dishwashers safe and dishwasher design friendly so I never needed to consider if they needed special treatment.
Taking away that thing to think about made a huge difference in clarity of mind because I could then use that energy for other things.
What you want to do is get a box of deck screws, a cheap drill, and a stud finder. Find the stud behind the cabinets, then put the deck screw through the top and bottom board at a 45° angle from the outside through the cabinet, into the stud. That will put about 6cm of screw to anchor through both the frame and back of the cabinet. Only way it's comming down is if the wall does.
While you're at it, replace the screws holding your door to the wall with them too, the normal screws for a door hinge are 1.5cm max, this will allow your door to sag as well as allow it to be easily knocked down. Replacing them with deck screws makes that far less likely.
What you want to do is get a box of deck screws a cheap drill, and a stud finder. Find the stud behind the cabinets, then put the deck screw through the top and bottom board at a 45° angle from the outside through the cabinet, into the stud. That will put about 6cm of screw to anchor through both the frame and back of the cabinet. Only way it's comming down is if the wall does.
While you're at it, replace the screws holding your door to the wall with them too, the normal screws for a door hinge are 1.5cm max, this will allow your door to sag as well as allow it to be easily knocked down. Replacing them with deck screws makes that far less likely.
I think there's room to wiggle on the mugs. I have a matching set for daily use and an unmatched collection stored separately for special occasional. I will never get rid of my penis pink German skull and crossbone mug, but I also prefer the consistency in volume of my matching set for chai in the morning.
I'm currently in a sociology class for the first time and I get a kick out of the idea that humans are so convoluted that we have a field of study about how society works and despite being able to document basically everything we still can't figure out simple things like this.
That feels like a weak argument, revenge porn is a crime, so is illustrated csam. A quick check of why someone thinks either of those should be allowed would either lead to their greater understanding of the topic or the realization that they're not qualified to make these decisions.
Extreme fetishes could be a hard topic. Needles and blood play skeeve me the hell out, but the flow chart goes "all parties consent and enjoy -> does not incriminate host-> allowed to exist." So it isn't up to my skeeves to yuck someone's yum.
Since that dream I have felt the grinding knowledge of the pool in a number of other dreams. Often when I have a nightmare, the low rumble coming before I realize I'm dreaming and changing the dream world back to something familiar.
The second of these things came about 4 years ago. I found myself dreaming of a house I grew up in, a Victorian style house that had been divided into a triplex before my parents had attempted to buy it. As I wondered it in a nostalgic tour, the basalt pool warned me of something near. I understood that if I wanted to continue enjoying myself I should avoid the back hall. I wondered if this was a warning and it assured I was safe either way. I'd make a perfect horror movie protagonist, when warned by an eldritch entity beyond my comprehension I opted to immediately investigate.
As I stepped into the hall I found myself suspended hundreds of feet in the air over a flat unending expanse of sallow land as black ashes drifted by on a weak wind. Below me, across the entirety and coming from all directions, single file lines of people marched on to the singular landmark of this world.
At the center of these endless queues was an impossibly vast hole, not in the ground but in reality. Rising from it was the torso of a gaunt and boney humanoid being. Below me the people were ants and still this creatures towered over my vantage point. It's skin was the same sickly baige of the landscape and the sky. Its arms triple jointed and ending in hands that's were barely human. Its posture was that of someone desperately trying to hide their nakedness with only their arms as a shield. Its face terminated in a flat plane just below the tip of the nose so that it's nostrils were hinted by the barest of transition from the upper lip. Floating close but distinctly separate from where it's face ended was yet another hole like void, situated level to where the eyes would have been and evoking the image of a horrid halo. The ash fell freely from this second void and just barely, the glow of foreign stars could be seen within.
As I took in this sight I understood that the marching lines ended as each person jumped into the void below. Some would fall to the plateau of the entity's head to be consumed, the rest became the ash in the air. On occasions, the thing would pause in it's futile efforts to hide itself and reach miles into the lines around it to pluck a single person by their throat. When I asked the basalt why I was greated with a vision from its perspective. As the lengthy fingers pinched their target the victim fractured, echoes of their form expanding out in a starburst, each a representation of possibly. Every potential version of a being throughout all potential timelines, each seized by the throat and violently ripped from their anchor before being carelessly tossed to fizzle away in the wind. Through the pool I understood that this is both the principle of pain and ecstasy for the victim, an infinite moment of sensation as they sease to be in every possible way.
I ask aloud why I'm seeing this and instead of answer, the rumble grows from within me as the entity takes notice for the first time that we've intruded. Before it make a move I'm back above the pool, then back in my childhood house, as if I'd just entered the back hall. Ash lingers in the air but fades away to nothing before my eyes. I wake.
I've had a series of continuous, hyper-realistic dreams in which I encounter bizarre god like beings. The weirdest part is that I've been into lucid dreaming for more than 2 decades after learning it to combat nightmares, despite knowing I'm dreaming, I can't change anything during these specific dreams. I have full control of me, but all the tricks I use to change the dream world don't work.
The first was about 8 years ago. I found myself in a dream zone I created to look like my ideal pizzeria surrounded by the usual characters but outside this lady in blue keeps getting closer to the window and it's creeping me out so I go to leave. As I'm going down the hall to the kitchen, there's a mirror on the wall but it shows a stone tunnel instead of a reflection. As I'm staring at it, I realize I'm staring at the hallway and I'm now in the tunnel. I don't like it, and I try to change venues but there's no way out. Eventually I decided to follow the tunnel and it takes literal days of time. The stone is this waxy smooth rock descending slightly but with too much of a curve to see past. Everything is dimly lit with no apparent light source.
I finally get to the bottom and it's a giant domed room. Same stone, still dimly lit, maybe 500ft across. There's a 10ft walkway around the edge of the room and the rest is a huge pool of what looks like basalt, but it's moving and ripling like water. There's this constant low grinding noise echoing all around. I suddenly feel like I'm not alone, I turn and it's the blue woman. Before I register, she plants both hands on my chest and shoves me full force into the basalt pool.
I hit it with a thud but immediately begin to sink. I can't swim in it, it's pulling me down. It washes over me with the grace of fluid and the texture of stone. I feel it flowing around me, scouring my skin like sandpaper, it's in my mouth, my nose, my eyes, seeping into my pores and joints, and I feel it scraping every inch of me inside and out. Just as the pain becomes unstable the grinding of stone becomes coherent. It's not a voice, it's an understanding.
Thousands of memories flash through my mind. Knights throwing peasants into the pit, their skin melting away and their bones twisting into wretched things. A Mongol band stands at the edge, when their horses refuse to near the pool the light their tails on fire. The plunge in only for a second before rising from the pit, half skelital, half stone, galloping around half submerged as they scream in ways animals never should. The woman, sorrowful and scared, dressed in hides with brilliant red hair. She cradles a stillborn baby in her arms and lays it gently into the pool. It's skin blues be its features contort before it cries out and sinks into the basalt pool. Her arms bear the same blue where she touched the pool. These and thousands others fill my mind and as I witness I understand that the pool does not want the innocent's it's been fed but the cruelty of those who stand on its bank and cast others in. Eras immemorial of being forced to sup on the insubstantial while true neurishment stood just out of reach. Starving in a prison as a feast waited just beyond the bars.
Finally the visions receded and I realize I feel no pain. I understand that the torture was an unfortunate necessity to allow me to understand and that I am different now, changed inperceptibly. The pool raises me first to the surface then up to stand on the stone lip of it's bowl facing the tunnel I entered from.
Before me stands the blue woman and I take her in for the first time. She is nude from the waist up, her skin a sickly mottle of pale human and that corrupted ashen blue spreading from her arms out across the body, but her vibrant hair and green eyes are the same as the day she came to the pool. What I had though was a tattered skirt is actually the skin from her hips down, flayed away from the body in Evan strips and left the hang from the waist where a braided leather belt seems to prevent the lines from running further. The muscle of her legs raw and exposed. Our eyes meet and the expression she gives is apologetic, embarrassed, and understanding, for both her role in this event and the grotesque image that she knows herself to be. We nod to each other in silence understanding before she steps aside so that I may leave.
The tunnel that took days to follow is now less than a few steps and as I reach the end the mirror is simply a frame, allowing my exit back into my family pizzeria. I wake.
I miss matpat's golden era of Game Theory, back before it because fnaf lore the channel. There was a genuine level of creativity and earnestness to everything he made and while I desperately wanted to like the new hosts, they feel hollow and the content is shallow. I would watch a thousand sans is ness videos over another "it's another analog horror project!"
Same for binging with babish, it went from earnest cooking channel that made you confident in your abilities to "I ate food in places you can't afford"
Cenefix got bought out by IGN and now it's just advertising.
Above all else, I would love an SCP reader that does them in order and explains the finer details. The Exploring Series is my absolute favorite because he actually goes back and explains the details, gives small blurbs when another scp is mentioned so you don't have to go look it up and guess why scp-#### is mentioned off handedly in scp-####. Unfortunately, he does the same thing everyone else does and only reads the current popular entries. There are thousands of entries that have never been looked at publicly, someone should cover them.
It can be very satisfying. I have a tequila bottle full of algae that's been minding its own for years.
Yup, that's the thing I'm looking for lol that's what I get for typing before breakfast.
Other guy got me right, terrarium is what I was thinking of lol.
Zippo is the figit toy of boomers.
Roller bearings, they're so satisfying.
Arch lighters. I have one that fits in a zippo case!
Bumble ball, it's a baby toy with a spinning motor in it, bounces around wildly when you hit the button. As an adult, these things are hilarious and a holding one is a great ADHD stim.
You can make a herbarium out of snack jars from dollar tree. I've never had so much fun looking at a jar of dirt.
Oragami. Any time I'm left unattended with scrap paper I the area with butterflies and flowers. Keeps the hands busy and everyone gets blown away by it.
Definitely related to the scion breed, but just different enough to tell at a glance. Like a weasel and a stoat.
Honestly it's worth it if you're down for mods. It felt like an insult when it came out, it was like call of duty wearing morrowind's skin, but since then it's become a pretty robust modding community and Legacy of the Dragonborn is miles above anything in the base game.