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losing my fucking mind at the Hate On These Losers Today button

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observation: people think fMRI is a meaningful measure of "thought"

observation: people believe ChatGPT is "thinking"

conclusion: we must put the ChatGPT servers inside an fMRI machine. this will work perfectly and have no adverse consequences. trust.

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all goofing aside I genuinely don't understand the urge to reimagine Taylor Allison Swift as a secretly queer icon when the pop music scene(TM) is like. literally overflowing with women who actually like women. Gaga and Kesha and Miley and Halsey are right there. Rina Sawayama and Hayley Kiyoko and Rebecca Black and Kehlani and Victoria Monét and Miya Folick if you're willing to get slightly less top 100. Janelle and Demi for them nonbinary takes on liking girls. like what are we doing here. like I'm not even saying you can't enjoy Taylor but why would you hang all your little gay hopes on her.

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I started using Head and Shoulders ten years ago for itchy scalp and dandruff, and then for ten years I have not had itchy scalp and dandruff, so I thought “why do I still buy shampoo to combat itchy scalp and dandruff when I do not have itchy scalp and dandruff,” so I stopped buying the shampoo for itchy scalp and dandruff and can you guess I have now? Can you predict what currently afflicts me? It’s alright if you can’t because apparently I fuckin couldn’t either

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When youve been a writer for long enough, commas become more of a spiritual practice than a grammatical one.

Could I explain the actual rules of how they’re used? Absolutely not.

Do I rely on sensing a tremor in the force to tell me where to use them? Yes and this has never failed me even once.

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shoutout to everyone with forget disorders (adhd, DID/osdd, ptsd/c-ptsd, asd, dementia/alzeheimers, schizophrenia, other psychotic disorders, major depressive, chronically ill/phys disabled people with brain fog, people with long-Covid, natural memory degradation, and etc.)

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Do you not see why people believe astrology tho??

so i'm a custodian.

whenever someone does something cool like shit on the bathroom floor or get blood all over a toilet, i have to close the bathroom down by blocking the doorway with a CLOSED sign.

this sign is big and bright. it says CLOSED in four languages and has a do not enter symbol. it completely blocks the doorway. the only way to enter is to look directly at the sign and either move it or climb over it.

almost every single time i shut down a bathroom so i can suit up and clean a biohazard, someone will enter the bathroom with a dead-eyed, slack-jawed expression and try to wordlessly walk past me to use a stall.

and every single time, i have to block their path and say, "this bathroom is closed. there is one directly down the hall, marked by signs. please leave," and they either try to argue that THEY specifically should be allowed to use this one, as if they are god's most special little guy, or express shock even though they, again, had to contend with the CLOSED sign to enter.

often, i am standing there in the middle of cleaning up bodily fluids having to firmly repeat myself. they always leave angry or confused.

anyways, you clicked this button to send me an ask about astrology:

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the fetish post author's poorly-disguised second, less acceptable fetish

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the opposite of that "ogre can't read ulysses" is an elf who smugly delivers a lecture misinterpreting the Very Hungry Caterpillar

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i think some of you dont like narratives or stories or characters i think you just like fanfiction tropes

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the other day one of my coworkers halfway referenced the spiders georg post but stopped before he actually reached the spiders georg part. like. I can't be sure that that's what he was doing but one coworker said "yknow. people swallow several spiders every year" and my other coworker said "well that's just- it's not true. it's a- no, you'd wake up" and just. there was a look in his eyes. I just know

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Male writers writing female characters:

“Cassandra woke up to the rays of the sun streaming through the slats on her blinds, cascading over her naked chest. She stretched, her breasts lifting with her arms as she greeted the sun. She rolled out of bed and put on a shirt, her nipples prominently showing through the thin fabric. She breasted boobily to the stairs, and titted downwards.”

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I did an experiment on myself

I like to browse social media, but it's not really me who likes that. It's some baser, more lizardish part of my brain. It does not even know what it's looking at, or care -- it just knows it gets little dopamine snacks from it, and likes them.

I decided to do an experiment. I wanted to see what that part of my brain would do if I deprived it of what it usually likes. I blocked all social media in my desktop browser via an extension, uninstalled all my social media apps, and even blocked the websites on my phone just for good measure.

So, what would I do now?

It turns out I start going on wikipedia. I liked to look at the "on this day section," and use the random page button. It's kind of like social media because I never knew what I was going to see. It scratched that same itch.

But I wanted to go farther, so I blocked wikipedia too.

Turns out, after that, I start going on google maps streetview and exploring random towns in Chile or Mongolia. I see hotels and restaurants with 1 review. Who are you, reviewer. Why have you decided to give this pizza restaurant that just looks like a normal house this digital baptism.

But I wanted to go farther, so I blocked google maps too.

Then, I started going to my local library. The library had more information than I could ever read about practically anything I wanted to read about. I started reading about French history. The region we know today as France may look pretty innocuous, but you wouldn't believe some of the shit that went down.

But I wanted to go farther, so I stopped even going to the library. What would this part of me, that so desperately craved a constant intake of information, do now.

It was then that I descended into the sewers, and became the Rat Man.

I quickly became a legend in my town. Some teenagers saw me clamber out of one sewer grate and then into another across the street. They told their parents about it. Their parents didn't believe them. Truth be told, I almost didn't believe them either.

A woman eating oreos on a park bench once dropped one near a sewer drain at the local bike path, and yelped when she saw my arm reach out from the drain and swipe it. However, later on, she left another oreo there. She took pity on the Rat Man. I saw the Man that was left there, even though it was mostly Rat.

Ultimately I decided to allow myself the library.

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