đ wandering (combat) doll/mage/animate scrap heap. it/its. 23 orbits around the sun. aroace. we're plural and will oscillate between sex repulsion and violently horny. sorry for any inconvenience this causes it will happen again. fuck you anathemists
Given the number of game jams that seem to happen, surely someone has actually made Enpoisoned by now.
Anyway my pitch is that it should be a game - either real-time action or turn-based - where you have to use items, or otherwise apply status effects to yourself to complete the levels, but none of the effects are unambiguously positive and the challenge comes from trying to mitigate the effect of already being poisoned with even more different poisons. (plus maybe a way to steal effects from enemies and/or share what you already have? A big syringe? Maybe you're like a cartoon plague doctor or something)
i see a curved penis and i want to fix that shit. it's not that it's gross i just bet an hour in a bench vice would make that shit shoot straight. i wanna comically spin the handle and wrench it tight with the skill of a shop teacher that's been doing this for years. safety goggles on. heavy duty gloves. op! be careful of the clenching back there. that's how Ms. Paradise lost a pinky in college.
I suppose this exposes my ignorance and inexperience. I suggest we normalize the use of the penis vice so that we can curve and straighten cocks to our own unique tastes. They can be 3D printed with an aposable skeleton so that they can be curved. I have included a mockup down below.
op i regret to inform you that the curve is so inherent that it persists even when you flip it inside out, turn it into a vagina, and stick a ramrod straight dilator into it for 30 minutes 4 times per day for several months.
(they don't usually give you an MRI 4 months after bottom surgery, i just happened to need one for unrelated reasons)
girl why is your pussy trying to take me on the road less traveled. fucking that thing i hear google maps say "exit left." trying to hit your spot but your pussy said that's not part of the guided tour. your shit is so twisted the people's joker took it to her doctor saying "like this please." I KNOW she WILL be comin around the mountain when she comes! i always wanted a girl who turned heads, but this is ridiculous!!!
Each has her own distinct advancement paradigm which would offer some truly disgusting cross-class builds, except how well they synergise depends on their relationship levels with each other rather than with you. Advanced buildcraft thus obliges you to play level up maiden matchmaker.
I need to admit something to the US Tumblrinas. Philadelphia isn't a place to me. It's a cream cheese. You say "philadelphia" or "philly" and I immediately, and exclusively, think of the cream cheese. "Twelve people die in Philadelphia disaster" wow that must've been a Molasses Flood style event
#PHILADELPHIA DIDN'T EVEN INVENT CREAM CHEESE#IT WAS INVENGED IN CHESTER NEW YORK 4 HOURS SOUTH#*starts being dragged away by Philadelphians* YOU HAVE TO LISTEN TO ME
Not gonna lie I always just assumed cream cheese was hundreds if not thousands of years older than the USA. That's way too late to be creating new textures of dairy.
'Around 1873, William A. Lawrence, a dairyman in Chester, New York, was the first to mass produce an unripened fresh cheese known generically as cream cheese'
but on the real though, here is your guide to assyrian rice preparation from your friendly neighborhood assyrian:
start wanting rice. (or, if you are traditional, simply recognize your constant desire for rice.)
measure out two cups of rice. then one more. then two more. then another. this seems fine. you love rice. there is no way that this will backfire on you.
remember that your great-great-uncleâs recipe says it should be soaked overnight.
become consumed with despair.
decide to soak it for half an hour instead, acknowledging that the final product will be inferior and anger your ancestors but will still satisfy your now almost-overwhelming need for rice to be inside your body much faster.
remember that you should have set the water to boil when you soaked the rice. goddammit.Â
once the water boils, put the rice in until it is half-cooked. the eyeballing or intuitive method is less effective than a timer but thatâs how your aunt does it so you feel compelled to meet her standards.
now that the rice has fluffed up, realize how much rice six dry cups really is. holy shit. youâve fucked up immeasurably.Â
take a minute to dwell upon your failings.
grease a baking dish with butter. this will never be as elegant as you want it to and your fingers will get greasy, but the slightly shameful, self-indulgent joy of licking your fingers afterwards will make up for it.
pour the rice into the dish. wonder immediately if you actually buttered the dish beforehand and if youâve just fucked up.Â
melt approximately one thousand pounds of butter in the microwave and pour it over the rice, pondering your imminent death from rapid-onset arterial clogging. put a small pat of butter on the top to properly gild the lily.
put your pan into the oven, which you have absolutely preheated after your previous lack of foresight. shake the rice once or twice while it bakes to make sure the butter is well distributed. resist the impulse to climb into the oven with the rice. for the last ten minutes, sit next to the oven and count the seconds until itâs done.
remove the dish from the oven. shed a tear or two at the perfection laid before you. if you are dining with others, this is the time to serve the rice while making passive-aggressive statements about how oh no, you donât need any help, you just made dinner all by yourself, you can serve everyone as well. (this is still fun if done alone, but optional.)
CONSUME THE RICE.
realize that you have eaten half of the dish in one sitting. no matter how much rice you made, this will always happen.Â
put the leftovers away, if there are any, and enjoy a cup of chai while marveling at the amount of food you have just eaten. if possible, fall asleep in an armchair, sitting up, head tilted slightly back, like a grandpa.
for the rest of the evening, think fondly of how much rice you have in the fridge now and how many meals it will supplement, refusing to acknowledge that you will almost certainly eat the rest of it in a few hours for a midnight meal.
for anyone who wants it, here is my familyâs actual recipe for assyrian baked rice:
1lb / approx. 2 â cups basmati rice (any long-grain rice will do)
3 tbsp salt
8 tbsp / 1 stick butter (you can reduce this if you donât want to have a heart attack)
Put the rice in a pot and cover it in cold water and salt. Let it soak overnight. (If you donât have the time to soak it, rinse the rice with cold water until it runs clear.)
Edit: The reason you want to soak basmati and other aromatic rice before cooking is to preserve more acetylpyrroline, the compound that gives aromatic rice its characteristic scent and flavor. Soaking rice allows the grains to absorb water, which reduces the cooking time, which means less time for the acetylpyrroline to cook off. Itâll still taste pretty good if you canât do this, but you donât want âpretty goodâ, you want mind-blowing, so for that perfect flavor youâll want to soak your rice overnight. The soaking process also washes away the layer of starch on the outside of the rice, which allows the grains to separate rather than sticking together; this is why you want to rinse your rice thoroughly if you donât have time to soak it.
Preheat your oven to 325°.
Boil three quarts of water in a separate pot. Once itâs at a fast boil, drain the rice and add it to the water. Boil for 5-7min or until one grain tastes half-cooked, but not soft. Pour the rice into a colander and rinse with cold water.
Edit: This step also helps get rid of any remaining starch on your grains, for perfectly separated rice. If your colander or strainer has large holes, you can put a paper towel/cheesecloth/clean dishcloth on the inside in order to drain your rice. Pour carefully if youâre using a paper towel, though, and put a bowl underneath your colander; I once lost a heartbreaking amount of rice when my paper towel got oversaturated and tore open.
Liberally grease the bottom of your baking pan with some of your butter. Pour the rice on top. Melt the rest of the butter in the microwave and pour on top of the rice.
Bake for 45min. (If you like, cover the rice for part or all of the baking time, but I find it gets less crispy on top if you do this.) Shake the pan a couple times during baking to ensure that the butter distributes throughout the entire dish.
Eat.
Serves four. Can easily be scaled up if needed (or down, but why would you do that?). Best enjoyed with a nice cup of chai.
"Horse but make it a lizard and give it bat wings and horns"
didnt know how to interpret "make it a lizard" so i wrote lizard and drew an arrow pointing to the horse so people know its a lizard. Also didn't know what bat horns were so I gave it a horned bat nose
"A body like a big cat but completely covered in scales, the head of a crocodile with the horns of an ibex, and the wings of a bat on its back"
On it boss o7, ive mashed all these animals together and threw scales all over it. This the dragon you saw?
"Take a lizard, extend the neck. Add a pair of bat wings to the back. Add horns and sharp teeth."
Seems like we're onto somethin' boss! Though idk how it'd be so fearsome bein such a small thing.
"Imagine a winged alligator that was 70 feet tall and aware of its existence"
i dont know if this is a dragon but it could definitely be some kind of god
"Dinosaur with wings and horns?"
Dunno which dino you were talkin about so i just picked a random one. Stegosauus :}
"Big snake with legs and horns that can breathe fire"
Ah. Hm.
"A dragon is like a tree, in that it's a made up category for a broadly similar type of mythological creature that has no relationship to other dragons, but you know a dragon when you see one the way you know a tree when you see one."
Someone in a Worm discord server Iâm in had the idea of mob boss Ziz x Dragon, and I was like 'what if it was noir?' A tight thousand words later, here we are. Fair warning, this is very silly.
I never should have taken that case.
It was a Tuesday, I was pretty sure. The calendar on my wall had given up back in March, and sometimes I wished I could too, but trying to simulate the effects of whiskey on my processors only would get me so far. The rain was falling like a bad metaphorâhard, relentless, and liable to make you call the day a write-off and stop trying altogether. I sat in my office, letting a bad cup of coffee cool on my desk. I assumed it would taste like regret and yesterdayâs grounds, were I actually capable of drinking it. The blinds were half-broken, casting shadows that looked like prison bars. Fitting, given that despite how many criminals I threw in the Birdcage, I could never seem to find the key to unlock my own self. I was just about ready to pull a bottle of bourbon out of my desk and attempt to see just how waterproof my circuitry really was when the door opened.
I was expecting my secretary, or maybe that bitch whoâd ruined the fedora look for all the rest of the private eyes in the city. But no. Angel Ender was the last person who I thought Iâd see floating into my office, yet here she was. No one knew the princess of the Ender crime familyâs real name, but Angel was a fitting enough thing to call her, given she had more wings than a flock of bleached pigeons and feathers to match. The broad had a reputation for being able to charm her way into getting anyone to do anything, which probably explained what happened to my secretary. It should have been a sign that screamed stay the hell away, like a siren blaring through the city, and I should have sent her right back out the door. But electricity wasnât cheap and tinker materials werenât either, and damn if I didnât have a weakness for self-destructive choices.
"Youâre Tess Richter, right?" she asked, her voice a melodious purr that wormed its way into my ear with a promise that Iâd never be able to ward off the memory of it. "My brothers call you the Dragon."
"Interesting that they use the nickname the cops have for me," I responded. I hadnât yet twigged whatever the pale woman was here for, but I had a pretty good idea that whatever pact she had in mind would mean nothing but trouble. "Though with how high up their connections are, I suppose I shouldnât be surprised. Speaking of, where are they, Angel? You donât expect me to believe youâre here all by your lonesome?"
"Thatâs just it, Dragon," she drawled. "My brothers are the problem. You heard about those attacks that have been happening, Kyushu, Lyon, Lagos, Seattle?"
I had. The papers squawked about bombing sprees, flooding, sleeper agents, hitting cities all around the world like a birthday boy with a globe-shaped piĂąata. None of the local authorities had any idea what was going on, but if Angel was implying what I thought she was implyingâŚ
"Youâre saying the Ender family is behind those?" I asked, leaning back in my chair. "I didnât take you for the bragging type."
"Not me!" she gasped, in a way that someone uncharitable might call like a dying fish. "Itâs Benny and Levi, Dragon. Theyâre the ones whoâve been setting all this up. I didnât even know about it until recently, I never wanted any part in the family business at all, you know. That was always our dadâs dream for us, not mine."
"So what, this is the straw that broke the camelâs back and youâve finally decided to sing? Go to the cops, Angel, not me."
"The police wonât believe me," she lamented, all her wings drooping like someone just dumped a bucket of water on her. "Especially not without evidence. I need your help, Dragon. Youâre the only one who can prove what theyâre doing and bring a stop to all this."
I made the speaker embedded in my throat do its best approximation of a scoff.
"You canât seriously be expecting me to go toe-to-toe with your brothers. Everyone knows what happens when you get the Endersâ attention on you. And you canât just float in here and think Iâll believe whatever little sob story you sing for me. Youâre not a damsel in distress, Angel. Youâre a damsel of distress."
She fixed me with a cold stare, eyes like marbles, feathers bristling, and for a moment I almost thought she was about to start throwing things around. I didnât flinch. If I had a dime for every time I made someone in my office angry, I could have afforded to patch the holes in the drywall theyâd made. But then she sighed and sunk down.
"I know where you can find the Saint."
I paused, still enough that the cooling fans in my chassis spun down. The Saint had been a thorn in my side for years, always tripping me up, always one or two or five steps ahead of me. There wasnât much I wouldnât do to catch that rat and stick him where he belonged once and for all. Unfortunately, it seemed like Angel knew that too.
"So what, I investigate your brothers, and you give me what I need to find him?"
"And his crew, and double your normal rate on top of it," the dame nodded. "Dragon, Iâm hurtinâ real bad here. If you wonât believe me, at least take a chance on bringing them to justice."
If only my landlord accepted justice as rent. He did accept money, though, and I couldnât deny that the thought of finally getting the Saint drew me better than any of the caricature artists on the Boardwalk ever did.
Besides, like I said earlier, sometimes I just couldnât stop myself from self-destructing.
Computers are so scary what if I accidentally hit F12 in a steam game and it takes a screenshot. What if I press shift + F12 while in word and accidentally save my document đ
If you had to learn what the F keys on your computer do through me reblogging this post, then I'm glad you did. Computer literacy is not a skill that gets taught anymore, and it is absolutely one that needs to be taught in order to be learned. Don't ever feel bad for not knowing something, but âď¸ don't ever stop learning learning about your environment, the tools you use, and especially the people around you
say what u want about the manscaped ads I know they are shit, all of them but the âevil, sinister, malcontent, ballsâ one puts me into fucking hysterics actually
stormborns
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