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@thesaucepear
this is such a classic meme that its a bit like seeing an old schoolmate. i recently discovered the source image from a rulebook published in 2003 so this meme is probably older than some of my followers. but this is one of the first 40k memes, along with kharn is a swell guy, metal bawkses, and armless abaddon.
theres a real answer to this. if i understand correctly because of the way proportions work a smaller thing’s ratio of surface area to interior is greater, so a mini mnm will have proportionally more candy shell and less chocolate interior than a normal size mnm. so even if you increased in size this much the ratio of chocolate to shell in a normal mnm would remain the same so they would not taste like the more-candy-per-total-mass mini mnms. if mnms increased in size proportionally with you, they would taste more chocolatey than normal mnms
this is a similar concept to the reason why creatures in the deep sea can evolve to be gigantic despite the rarity of food sources: its actually metabolically more efficient to be fuckhuge because your surface area/body mass ratio will be less and thus youll lose less heat through your skin (relative to your mass) to the surrounding cold environment of the sea than a smaller organism would lose
you’re everything
"this post transcends language XD" but it's a post with no english cognates at all
If there's one thing that makes me feel like an old person, it's that everything on my phone keeps moving around. Whenever they release a new version of an app, some middle manager has decided their entire goal in life is to try and get a button moved. Maybe it's just changed shape, or picture, or location. If I'm really unlucky, they buried it inside three menus. The end result is the same either way: I look like a ding-dong trying to make my phone do the same thing it did five days ago.
This is even sinking into cars now. Used to be, you'd only have to deal with something truly bizarre when you drove a French car. Anyone who was doing that already knew they were asking for it. Oh, Marcel, your new car has a phone number pad instead of a windshield wiper stalk? That's so chic. Please stop driving on the sidewalk.
Now, with the advent of screens, everyone can have the same experience I have on my phone when they want to turn on the seat heater, or change the radio station. A ghost can come in over the airwaves while you're sleeping and move all your shit around in the name of metrics. Oh, you want the tachometer? We decided nobody was using it, so it's gone. Opening the glovebox? That needs a swipe gesture now. I would vastly prefer the old state of affairs, where I buy a car and it stays the same for twenty years until I try to pass a snowplow on a blind corner past midnight in March.
Like I said, this makes me sound like an old person, who is afraid of change. Not at all, friends. I am the biggest fan of change in the world. That's why I've started an exciting new business to remove all of these screens. In their place, we'll install a bunch of old arcade game buttons, with an embossed Dymo label reading things like "make seat hot now" and "car start" on each of them. Admittedly, the guy we did hire installs them into the panel at random, but at least he's not going to break into your car and move them around in the middle of the night most of the time. Get your order in before we run out of red buttons and have to change to yellow!
You could never make me world dictator because my ass would immediately start doing stuff like this
THE HEXBUGSWALLOWER REVOLUTIONARY CALENDAR:
- Each day of the ten-day week is named after a different invention.
- Wheelsday (wheel), Leverday (lever), Hoistday (pulley), Rampsday (incline plane), Wedgeday (wedge), and Screwsday (screw) are the working days, all named after a different “simple mechanism” as defined by the renaissance thinkers.
- Rest days are more loosely themed, but broadly speaking they’re named for inventions that significantly increased leisure. The 4-day weekend consists of Andorsday (Simultaneously commemorates logic gates, Boolean logic, formal logic in general, and computers), Pressday (printing press and related technologies, including the Internet and widespread literacy), Sparksday (anything involving electricity, fire, combustion engines, heavy industry, or energy production), and Sayday (language, but also a catch-all for the nonphysical inventions like “the self” or “universal human rights”).
- Rest days fall in the middle of the week and at the end, so it goes 3 days on/2 days off twice a week: Wheelsday-Leverday-Hoistday-Andorsday-Pressday-Rampsday-Wedgeday-Screwsday-Sparksday-Sayday.
- As the day with the most “spiritual” namesake, it seems only fitting that Sayday takes the sunday spot as the rest day that ends the week. You’ll note I did not capitalize “sunday”, because capitalizing days used by the outmoded reactionary gregorian calendar will be a crime under my regime. Other things to note: Leverday and Wedgeday both fall in the middle of their working week. Leverday is the “fulcrum” of the first week, and Wedgeday “cleaves” the second week in half. Similarly, Wheelsday “gets things rolling” and Rampsday is when the second week “ramps up”.
- Since Sayday is the day that pertains to social innovations, it follows that many civil rights-related holidays will be rearranged to fall on Sayday. Of course, this includes holidays which relate to women and feminism. That’s right: The Sayday Hawkins Dance. Aren’t you glad you read to the bottom of this post?
After a little more consideration, I’ve determined that “Pressday” does not fit in with the other rest days. Even though the printing press is a front-runner for “best invention”, it’s far too specific alongside stuff like Sayday. Therefore, Pressday is now FARMDAY, to commemorate advances in animal and plant husbandry, medicine, and biotech. This means the days now cover basically every invention, with the added bonus that all four social classes (farmers, factory workers, intelligentsia, and robots) all get their own dedicated rest day.
Additionally: The French revolutionary calendar tried to compete with the Roman Catholic Calendar of Saints by making every single day in their calendar correspond to a different part of the rural economy. So like they had a day for apple trees and a day for hand scythes and stuff. This is hilarious, but I'm gonna do them one better by giving each day of the year a specific invention which also relates to the day of the week it falls on.
So for example, every Leverday will be associated with a specific famous lever (crowbar, claw hammer, tweezers, etc). There are 30 Leverdays in a 365-day year, and all of them get their own specific lever. Similarly, any given Wedgeday might be named after, say, the hatchet or even the humble shovel. Sayday might commemorate the Magna Carta or Semaphore Flags or something. You get the picture.
Months in the FRC were given faux-Greek names meant to evoke the weather of the month. This is really good already, but I'm gonna outwoke their frog asses by naming all ten months with nonsense words designed to sound like different world languages. The Autumn months are based on the Indigenous languages of the Americas, Winter months are based on the native languages of Europe, Spring months are based on the languages of Asia, and Summer months are based on the languages of Africa. Enlightenment philosophers wish they were as humanist as me. They're all like 'fuuuuck, I was so eurocentric, now I see the error of my ways future man' and I'm just like 'instead of September we have Ch'il-N'ohii, which has no meaning in any language but is loosely based on the Diné word for grape because the Grape harvest is in the beginning of Autumn-- oh, sorry, you probably know them as the Navajo'
The 12 30-day months only account for 365 days, the remaining 5 days (6 on leap year) are dedicated to various holidays which are scattered throughout the year. Also, we celebrate leap day exactly like they celebrate leap day in that one episode of 30 Rock.
Instead of Christmas we have Lathe Appreciation Day and instead of Jesus we have a really well-crafted lathe
Thinking about a new bit where i start using “workers of the world” as my go-to second person plural pronoun. Like “chat”.
Workers of the world what do we think of this. Is it funny.
Workers of the world please like and reblog my post
My father is a classic layabout lazy bastard. He's the guy that people try to stereotype people on benefits as when they call them "dole bludgers". Sits in a filthy house all day whining that his wife won't clean it up, gets a great idea for a new business every few months and gives up after two weeks when it becomes clear that starting a business is hard, does everything he can to avoid doing a single scrap of work in life, uselessly drags his feet when the government forces him to actually do some.
Or at least, he was, until about three years ago, when he was sent off to do mandatory Work for the Dole at a volunteer organisation. He'd done a lot of Work for the Dole in the past, of course, and like most people who are forced to do a shitty job under the threat of starvation, was neither enthusiastic nor particularly useful. But in this particular place, he was given a job that he could do better than anyone else (he was one of 2 men working with a legion of elderly women, and the only person able to easily haul around the heavy goods that the organisation works with). He quickly found himself with a job he could understand, he could see the clear utility in, and that his coworkers greatly valued him for. He started arriving on time every day, putting in the effort, getting shit done. He started caring about the results. And when his Work for the Dole time was up, he kept volunteering.
He's one of two people paid to work in that warehouse now (the other person being the manager), and he's a lynchpin of activity there, their sole regular and reliable source of physical labour. When he takes holidays, they have to plan around it, because his consistent hard work has become such a critical asset to their work. And he's not taking nearly as many holidays as he should -- he works extra unpaid hours, lifts loads that are somewhat heavier than he should be lifting, shoulders the work of others when they need breaks, and we all have to urge him to take more days off for his health since he's not a young man any more. For my entire life this man has been a pile of old mud in the shape of a human, and the instant he found a job that fulfils his needs, he won't fucking stop. He's gonna die in that warehouse and die happy.
Although it pains me to bring discord to such a harmonious environment, I have to admit that I don't like sweet potatoes that much. I think it's because the name is inherently deceptive, although there is also a lot of treachery afoot in the entire "berry" nomenclature as well.
That said, we live in the modern era, and part of being alive now is not saying bad things about anything. So as to unify my opinion with the rest of the world's, I decided that I would eat nothing but sweet potatoes for a week. Through abusive brainwashing, I would develop some kind of Stockholm syndrome towards these tubers and perhaps even come to love them.
Friends, this kind of a quest is folly. Although I had some lovely moments frying, stir-frying, deep-frying, air-frying, and pan-frying these things, I never enjoyed any of them as much as the humble regular potato.
For my effort in making myself miserable for an entire week, the only benefit to myself was getting really good at cooking something I didn't particularly like eating. That, and the seller at the farmers' market who specializes in sweet potatoes thought I was visiting every day and buying 20kg of root vegetables because I had a crush on her. Sorry ma'am, just regular ol' mental illness here.
What is the moral of this story? Perhaps there is no morality here. Aesop didn't write a fable about trying to destroy your own mind with vegetables, and if he had, it would probably end with all the characters getting eaten by a bear. At least the bear probably likes sweet potatoes.
other birds must get so pissed off by mockingbirds. like imagine you get in a fight with your wife and the next week you can hear your upstairs neighbor repeating the argument word for word as sexual roleplay
“ok lets do warm up sketch”
“oh..”
this is killing me it's so cute
"Guy" and "man" have different connotations with adjectival nouns. Like "tree guy" = arborist but "tree man" = he lives in a tree, or maybe he is a tree.
"I know a guy" = "I have a useful contact."
"I know a man" = "I am about to tell you a story."
“He’s a great guy” = he is pleasant and fun and well-intentioned
“He’s a great man” = he has saved countless lives and changed the world irrevocably
No but like, this is the thing about Sam carrying Frodo and the ring up the mountain. It's a cool scene in the movie, but they don't explain what's happening at all. The ring at this point is so heavy Frodo can't even lift his head. It's like essentially a cinder-block he has to carry around his neck. And finally he gives up and Sam offers to carry him and:
DO YOU GUYS GET IT? THE RING IS A BURDEN, BUT FRODO ISN'T. FRODO DOESN'T WEIGH ANYTHING TO SAM. SAM CAN LIFT HIM EASILY!!!! HE'S NOT A BURDEN AT ALL I —
Overwhelming desire to work this one into my regular ideolect
That infamous prison escape.
self-awareness check, list five things you like that aren't media pieces in the tags now ‼️
