Friday Ephemera (712)
Incoming. Apparently, surprisingly, no-one died. || His grilled cheese sandwich is more fiddlesome than yours. || It’s a look. || It’s a look 2. || She’s healing her womanhood. || Regarding submarines in space. || Ruffian intercepted. || He’s super-happy. || He wants your thoughts on his boobs. Includes obligatory head-tilt. || In Barnsley’s NHS, there were “less than ten amputations due to medical negligence.” || Because your face just says problems, love. || Imported Muhammadan piety. || And then it became apparent. || For the protesting class, it’s an outlet for their issues. || WiFi-enabled cock ring with built-in camera. || Incoming 2. || In fashion accessory news. || The car of the future, 1971. || And finally, I’m not entirely sure what this is, but apparently there’s a heated debate.
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Hey – his teeth are perfect, at least.
Bloody hell – I am trying to eat dinner here! I know, credit note only, my fault for clicking.
His grilled cheese sandwich is more fiddlesome than yours.
Yes it is, but I have to admit I’m impressed. That sandwich is awesome! A great sandwich is all about the thinness of the ingredients. I’m the deli counter and cheese counter managers’ worst nightmare. I want everything sliced as thinly as possible. The more exposed surface area the better the flavour.
I don’t think I’d ever attempt trying to slice bread that thin. I’m not sure how sharp a straight edged knife needs to be to slice bread that thin. Most bread knives are serrated and saw through the loaf.
I would definitely need Karl’s help.
Land acknowledgement of note: Before I begin my remarks, I feel we should acknowledge that we are on stolen land, once the rightful heritage of a free and democratic people before it was taken and turned into a woke toilet by spoiled rich white douchebags.
I’m not entirely sure what this is, but apparently there’s a heated debate.
I wasn’t aware their was a gloving community, I lead such a sheltered life.
In fashion accessory news.
Mugatu did it better.
In fashion accessory news.
We’re getting into Leningrad Cowboy territory here.
Do humans actually buy and wear this rubbish?
What, and I cannot emphasize this enough, the actual hell is that?
I’ve heard of people writing on their limbs with a big black sharpie prior to surgery to specify exactly what needs to happen where. “NOT THIS ARM” and such.
And now that’s in my Amazon browsing history. It’s what I get for clicking before reading.
That’s the county where I live. We had two full days of strong wind ahead of a wintery storm, and it had been dry and warm enough prior that I guess the tumbleweeds had dried out instead of being a wet mass under the snow.
That area is the Hot New Neighborhood, positioned as it is on the edge of Nothing, so people can have their vaunted Views. I kinda didn’t feel bad for them. I’m tucked in the middle of suburbia so I’m never affected by such things.
Tumbleweeds are terrible to deal with. Ranches have their fences pushed over by the weeds piling up on one side, then the snow and rain smash them down, then they’re dense enough they catch the wind.
That was a strange storm. It was a cold front impinging on fairly warm, wet air, and so it produced this effect, which caused Snowbird Ski Resort to close. March truly came in like a lion.
| pokes spam filter |
Morning, all.
[ Slurps coffee, rubs eyes, liberates comment. ]
Comments with five or more links get intercepted as possible spam and held in the ‘pending’ folder.
Oh, it’s still there, in all its miraculous glory. I’m guessing that for some reason you need to log in to an X account to behold the wonder.
Heh. Welcome to my world.
“Ruffian intercepted.“
She must play rugby!
That gal can definitely be on the team.
“The car of the future, 1971.“
Gosh, imagine an episode of ‘Top Gear’ where the presenters could light up a cigar behind the wheel! Ah, BBC, what happened to you?
I suggest dragging them by their eyelids.
The music, I think, rather sets the scene.
Someone should tell her she’s still being judged.
I see it’s bring-your-fetish-to-work day. A thread.
Somewhat related: “His eclectic dress sense.”
Another sad man having a mid-life crisis.
I suppose what’s grating is that we’re apparently not supposed to register the messages that are being sent. The narcissism, for instance. The need to continually be the centre of attention. And I’m guessing we’re not supposed to consider how such narcissistic provocations may affect other employees and degrade their working days – employees who may struggle to pretend that everything is perfectly normal or something to be affirmed. And who may suspect, with good cause, that any hint of demurral may result in accusations of bigotry and even disciplinary action.
Working with self-involved twats – self-involved twats enabled and applauded by management – does tend to be tiresome and demoralising. If every day involves some variation of, “Yes, but have you seen how utterly transgressive and fabulous I look?” it can wear a little thin.
‘He reportedly also makes students call him “Mx” instead of “Mr.” because he’s nonbinary.’
How do you even pronounce that?!
I believe it’s pronounced insufferable bellend…
Do humans actually buy and wear this rubbish?
For the name, yes.
Well, you would certainly need a sharp knife, but you’d also need a lot of bread.
You see how much of the loaf he already went through trying to get a thin slice on camera?
I was definitely impressed. Until he opened the fucking Kraft cheese slices!
[ Rummages in fridge. ]
I found these.
Am I damned?
God yes.
And you have poor taste in cheese.
Wow – prophetic. They really nailed the endless goddamn beeping!
I feel I should point out it’s not the only cheese in the fridge. But it is there. Being almost cheese-like.
Sort of AI cheese. Or ironic cheese.
Band name.
It would almost be worth the assault charges to just stand there and slap the ever-loving shit out of their smug, metalled, faces until they gave up pretending to be stuck.
Until he opened the fucking Kraft cheese slices!
Not just any processed cheese slices, if you watch carefully those are Japanese processed cheese slices made with milk and tallow from A5 wagyu cows. Each slice costs around ¥7400.
It would almost be worth the assault charges to just stand there and slap the ever-loving shit out of their smug, metalled, faces until they gave up pretending to be stuck.
Can we pretend they’re in the stocks, and pelt them with rotten fruit and decaying vegetables?
I’m sure Japanese processed cheese is the absolute pinnacle of processed cheese technology.
Unfortunately, it’s still processed cheese.
It will never end because of the mutual parasitism between the narcissists and the people profiting from the display. Even here, where we click links and wish we hadn’t it’s telling the algorithm “Oh, look, the Guild of Evil people like this stuff! Let’s encourage more!”.
Are we still allowed to say he’s mentally ill?
I suppose the question is whether our wig-stroking chappie actually believes that he’s pregnant, not just fat, which would suggest he’s a tad unmoored from reality; or whether he’s just role-playing for attention and likes. Affirmation, as they say.
Which is also fairly unhinged.
I mean, I’m not seeing an option one could regard as encouraging.
As someone notes drily in the replies, pregnancy tests may also detect some forms of testicular cancer. So he may want to get that looked at.
And yes, today’s word is irony.
Cheesy slices is very appropriate.
One suspects that one’s credibility as a man of taste, discernment and savoir faire might have taken a hit.
I should think the lawyers had a hand in that.
[ Considers abandoning all decency and making a mug of instant coffee. ]
Isn’t all cheese processed? I’m not aware of any natural cheese sources… unlike the famed spaghetti trees…
For the benefit of those not cursed with a twitter account, and based on David’s comment, I believe this is the bozo in question.
That could be the new typing animation, up top. Your Fault For Clicking.
Step this way, David. We’ll soon have your head fixed right.
“…self-involved twats…insufferable bellend…”
Perhaps both, one of our gate hand gluing tovariches.
I’d like to see a systematic investigation of their backgrounds. I’m betting that they are nearly all from very well-to-do families and that they have not given up the comforts and privileges that they enjoy.
They are, by and large, The Unspanked. As remarked here previously,
See also The Lovely Lydia.
No.
It’s called bacteria. Here‘s this wonderful new resource to help you out 😌
For the stylish vagabond.