I more meant the song in particular, but I recall it being pretty much everywhere, for a time. It’s a damn good song, but I feel like there’s a decent slice of us that, even if it wasn’t the first favorite for everyone, it was an early influence due to sheer frequency.
This is letting my inner basic bitch out, but Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls. Still have a soft spot for that song to this day, right alongside Semisonic’s Closing Time.
It was one of the perks of owning one.
The others were the fact it was a '69, so that was fun to say, and it had a semi-rare style of shift assembly known as an Electromagnetic shift. No clutch pedal, just press down on the stick and shift.
Great little car, miss having her. Reliable as could be, easy to maintain, got great mileage. She wasn’t the fastest or prettiest on the road, but she got you where you needed to go, and didn’t care what you put her through.
Never had an Insta or Threads. Haven’t touched my Facebook in almost 12 years, the last time I logged in was to send a message to my wife back when we were long-distance dating.
You Linux users sure are a contentious people.
3 hours in the middle of the night in a crowded mall.
It was Cataclysm’s release night. People were packed in, you had groups of them with laptops huddling together to play while we waited. Eventually the GameStop employees came out and started doing a trivia contest with some WoW-themed tat as rewards.
Undead? Yes! Unalive? No!
Not a serious one, but it hurt like a bitch.
Coworker was cleaning the donut case for the day, and left the dishes beside the sink. I decided to be nice and get them soaking, so I grab all the wire racks.
One slipped, and while I was trying to catch it, I somehow pinched my thumb right behind the nail between two others. I had to take a moment in the back office after that.
The Artisan’s Market is worth going to Gatlinburg, but avoid the main strip of the city unless you’re looking to eat. There’s maybe 4 unique shops, the rest are the exact same touristy shit under a different name.
The Knife Works will be busy, also. It doesn’t slow down. Parking will be ass. It’s totally worth it just to go into the downstairs Relic Room.
My inability to both talk to new people, and stop talking once I start. It’s like I have to mentally burst through a brick wall, and then can’t figure out how to stop.
I feel awkward as fuck.
It’s based on the first book of a trilogy, the series is called His Dark Materials, and was a fucking travesty of a film adaptation. I’m honestly glad they didn’t go forward with the rest, I doubt they would have handled the other two any better.
I can’t speak on Amazons attempt, haven’t gotten around to it yet, but can recommend the books. They’re a good read.
For the most part, all for customer-visible auto parts.
Other team got anything mechanical. We were purely visual.
This is an absolutely boring one, but did you know part of your seatbelt, right now, could just be colored in?
How about your seat cover? Your steering wheel? Some poor bastard had to go get that out of stock, bring it into repair, go over the entire lot, and take a special pencil to color in those little scratches, or mark it as unrepairable.
I was that bastard for awhile. It sucked. 10 hours going over whatever needed checking that day. An “exciting” day meant a defect hit the line and we needed to hunt it down, hopefully without stopping production.
“Repair” can cover a lot of things, and that was the worst repair work I’ve ever done.
One where I was born a girl.
To be honest, I’d be genuinely curious if they went through their own struggles with expectations, especially ones tied to apparent gender identity. Hell, do they even identify the same way I do? What ripples throughout my entire sense of self could have been caused just by something so seemingly simple?
Would we be even remotely alike?
Probably have consequences on my psyche, but meh. Waking up each day is, too.
“A Scanner Darkly”, the novel.
I’m a former addict, 17 years clean. That book made me remember people I hadn’t thought of in years, made me re-evaluate who I had been, who I was, who I had around me. Even years later, when I’ve felt so close to breaking, that book came to mind. Did I want to lose myself again? To be unrecognizable to my own self and everyone around me? To go back to trying to hide this demon eating away at me with whispers of feeling whole again? Could I pay that price again, could I take wondering what happened to another “friend”, of looking up and knowing they weren’t waking up?
Requim for a Dream, too. Found them both around the same time, haven’t been the same person since.
Really though. Using a bill? Do you know how dirty that shit can be?
Clean straw. Shits probably already been stepped on, don’t add someones dried tit sweat to it.
Yours, too?!
Damn them! Stealing our years with the expectation they’ll get to enjoy them. Not in the cheapest retirement home Florida can offer!
“The code is burned onto the back of my left kidney. If I die, be a hero.”
It’s time to ask yourself what you really are, because for all your big talk, all in all, you’re just another brick in the wall.
A fresh hot ham and cheese.
Warm up some finely sliced ham, melt some layers of Swiss in there, lightly toasted bread with a nice spread of mustard.