i kinda don’t like those posts that are like “it feels so good to be a hater in private instead of bullying people” because i don’t think the only two options for negative opinions are Privacy or Bullying. being a hater in a public forum is perfectly fine, and even the most vitriolic negative opinions are not automatically bullying just because someone who might have their feelings hurt by them sees them. there’s a difference between being negatively impacted by something you see and being actually targeted by negativity.
seeing someone drop an absolute dogshit off the mark screed against something you love that is not actually harmful in any real way but nevertheless activates the enrage phase of your boss battle and then learning to either just block them or keep scrolling without it ruining your day is a valuable skill. and i think we’ve all seen what spaces that demand constant positivity end up like. developing an inconsequential bullshit tolerance is necessary to be a well balanced member of a social species.
exiting a uquiz halfway through when it becomes clear the creator’s narrow and immature world view and cultural knowledge leaves them totally unequipped to tell me which peanuts character i am with any degree of accuracy or insight
I can clearly remember the moment I first realised my mother and I were living on completely different planes of existence. I was 7 years old and I came home from my school’s first track and field day having placed second or third in every event. the teachers had been making jokes all afternoon about how many times they had to call my name. my friends thought I was cool as shit. my enemies thought I was cool as shit too, come to think of it. I was proud as hell. so I get home with the entire front of my shirt covered in ribbons like I was a military dictator who’d awarded himself every medal, I walk into the kitchen and tell my mum all about my day, and she goes “oh, that must be disappointing not getting any firsts.” and I’m like no?? first of all the first place ribbons are red and I don’t like red. second of all look at me. there’s literally nowhere left on my body for accolades. I am fucking Jacked of All Trades. how could this possibly be a disappointment.
Reading old detective stories is so funny bc like. Murder used to be so fucking easy. I’m reading a Poirot mystery and the murderer just popped down to the chemist and bought a bottle of strychnine. And they were wearing a fake beard so nobody knows who it was. No prescription, no ID, just waltzed in to the shops and bought a bottle of one of the deadliest poisons known to man. Sure, why not.
every time I think about Dilbert I think about this comic and how the question being asked is Not Stupid and its answer is genuinely interesting and arguably very important information anyone using a computer should know
