I have. Sometimes, if I’m forced to attend an event at the house of someone I don’t like, I’ll wash my hands with it out of spite.
I have. Sometimes, if I’m forced to attend an event at the house of someone I don’t like, I’ll wash my hands with it out of spite.
My hatred of throw pillows is so extreme that it borders on psychotic.
“They don’t serve any purpose besides getting in your way! What if you want to sit on the couch, but there’s already someone else on it? You can’t just put the throw pillow in their lap. You can’t toss it on the floor, either. That’s rude. I HATE THEM SO MUCH.” 🔪 🪶🪶🪶
Good. I hope people and organizations keep leaving.
I’m bewildered, too. The only thing keeping me from flying into a confused, indignant rage is the thought that a lab is kind of like a kitchen.
No need for the text at the top. The pic itself is great!
I wouldn’t so much as think of attending even if it was right in the next town, so okay. Do it. I’ll enjoy reading about what a disaster it was.
My brain insists that this is terrible, but, I’m laughing, so…
If I felt like I was forming a “friendship” with one of these artificial personalities, I’d want more control - not in a maniacal way, but because I wouldn’t trust Meta (or whoever) not to say “meh, this isn’t profitable, so we’re shutting it down next month.”
We’re already far too dependent on corporations, but in most cases, they haven’t had the power to emotionally damage us in this specific way. I don’t want to give them that kind of power over me.
Thank you. This is the first seriously negative thing I’ve heard about her, and I’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt. A person can grow and change quite a bit in ten years.
Possible sequel to Mars Needs Moms: Memes Needs Mods
You’re completely right to feel that way. As an American, it’s mind blowing to me, too. I really don’t like the fact that “hidden fees” have become normal.
I used to have one of those black plastic (or was it Bakelite?) Space-Commander 400 remotes, pictured in the black and white ad.
I was walking home from grade school. Somebody was getting rid of their ancient TV, and had left it on the curb. The boxy, awkwardly shaped remote was in its “holster” on the TV, so I grabbed it and took it home. Before then, I had assumed that only infrared wireless remotes existed.
The idea that a remote could work by ultrasound fascinated me, and the fact that it didn’t even need batteries absolutely blew my little mind.