I could actually be a summer person if there were more 70 foot oak trees to languish under and eat berries in a handspun clay bowl. but urban designers don’t get that
twitter is going to be shut down. half of reddit is locked or completely unmoderated. the entire first page of google search results are ads. tumblr does not and will never have a functioning search system and their content moderation is 100% automated. youtube only shares ad revenue with people who make snuff films for Youtube Kids. facebook is selling your grandma’s social security number under the table for like $5. web 2.0 is completely dead right
“ohhh wahhh the problem with building out america’s rail network is that nobody wants to live next to train tracks-” I DO BITCH!!!!!!!! #I<3INDUSTRIALNOISES #SEXWITHATRAIN
Please do not have sex with our trains they are late and you’ll get run over and wind up a pile of blood and guts in rural Pennsylvania
just a reminder to my new followers that if were ever able to cross the explanatory gap and share our color perception qualia with each other, proving finally that we all do see colors differently, my red is real as shit and youve been seeing crap fake red. so come to terms with your shit fake red while it lasts
we were discussing wills and inheritances in the breakroom today and one of the boys brought up that he heard if you hate someone in your family, you’re supposed to leave them something, literally anything, even if it’s just like 1 penny, so that they can’t sue and say you just forgot them, and one of the other boys said why wouldn’t you just say like “I specifically do not leave anything to this person” and one of the girls piped up “No, leave them 1 penny, it’s a bigger fuck you” and then she paused and goes “No wait, tell them that you leave them everything in the box you’ve buried in the woods and they have to go find it and dig it up and then they can have everything in it, but it’s just 1 penny” and because I am a writer, and thinking up wild things to have happen is part of the writing job description, I (without looking up from my computer where I was currently writing a story) said “or a bomb. I mean, you hate them right” and i looked up and everyone was looking at me and the girl (who FYI is a horror movie enthusiast and I had figured on appreciating the joke) goes “well. I mean, what are they going to do, arrest me? I’m dead.” and I wish I could bottle the looks on the boys’ faces.
When I worked full time as a genealogist a colleague showed me a will that said they left enough rope for their son in law to hang himself and nothing else.
