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British Andrew Horowitz

British Andrew Horowitz

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Ever felt insulted by a browser? I have.

At least I feel like I should be insulted.

So I'm going about my day, casually searching up an old song from my favorite band, and I get this result:

That's an MIT list of words ranked. Like, my search was deemed so outlandish that the closest match was a jumbled pile of words.

3 words. My search was 3 words, and all Google can tell me is that 'Yes, those are words.'

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I was gonna compare Portal and FNAF, to complete the trinity of popular Valve series, but I couldn't think of any similarities.

It's not like they both revolve around robots gone rogue, with human souls being inside them [personality cores, animatronics]

Nor do they both have a major event where a bunch of lives are intentionally snuffed out [fire/William, neurotoxin]

They don't both have beloved antagonists that come back to life [Springtrap, GladOs]

They most certainly don't have player characters that are mute whilst being played, in common [Chell, Michael]

Neither have uncertain timelines

Neither of them even have a sidekick that turns evil in one of their games [Helpy, Wheatley]

Their main villians have never suffered through a form of Purgatory [William, GladOs]

Neither series has their games on Steam, and furthermore - neither have any connection to Valve

Obviously, neither have anything to do with Yoav Landau, 1/2 of The Living Tombstone

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So... the springlock suit in the 1st FNAF movie is a modified version of the Half-Life 1 HEV Suit, right?

Specifically since they have a similar fault.

In the first FNAF movie, age doesn't really set off the springlocks in Matthew "Purple Guy" Lillard's suit - it's the damage of the bite from Carl the Cupcake that seals his fate.

Damage...all in one place.

In the first Half Life game, it doesn't really matter what part of your body takes damage. If any part of your body is damaged enough, you spontaneously combust.

Even if it's damage...all in once place. From a particularly deadly cupcake, perhaps?

So, was William Afton a scientist at Black Mesa? Or was Fazbear Entertainment in cahoots with G-Man from the start?

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this poem is about being nonbinary.

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I've got a new idiom to share

"No one believes a bad odor is gone until a good scent appears."

It follows Febreze, which was originally marketed as an odor eliminator, but sold poorly due to people not realizing their homes/clothes smelled bad. It was only when they added scents that it became successful.

Source of evidence: https://www.reddit.com/r/todayilearned/s/JMTyN5yCJY

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Star Trek: Deep Space Nine "Past Tense, Pt. 1"

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So, I noticed something connecting two games' lore.

For those who don't know about the base lore of Team Fortress 2 (TF2): it centers around two brothers with color-like names (Redmond & Blutarch Mann), fighting over some useless piece of land left to them by their father. They also hired one of the main cast's grandpa (Radigan Conagher) to make life-extending machines in order for one to outlast the other for said land (but they both got one).

For those unfamiliar with FNAF lore: a guy (William Afton) dressed in purple killed some kids and stuffed them into the animatronic suits of the restaurant that he owned; the kids' souls remained attached to the metal (now called remnant) of animatronics due to their anger towards their killer, who then studied the remnant to bring his son back to life.

Therefore, I propose a universe where Redmond Mann and Blutarch Mann didn't hire Radigan Conagher to make a life-extending machine, but instead hired William Afton to turn them into 'undying' animatronics.

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I'm so mad rn.

I just realized I'll never know what it'd be like to be a dullahan (like the headless horseman, for those not familiar).

In other words, I can't hold my head and measure its weight, like I can with other objects.

You could only really feel the weight if you lack neck bones, or someone chopped your head off (which wouldn't be helpful anyway, since you need a brain in the right place in order to feel an object in your hands).

I'll never have a clue how heavy my head is, and I'll never get to cradle it under my arm to know!!!

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Listening through all of Pink Album for the first time rn and it feels a lot like this

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I truly hate the word "unalive." There are so many other euphemisms that fictional Italian mobsters worked so hard to provide you with and you just ignore them.

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Only a true friend, a cartoon-villain-level enemy, or someone with a lucky guess, can give you an insult that truly hits your core. And it's mostly because nobody knows your full circumstances besides you.

Only a true friend knows what hurts you, since they heard out your worries, and were there to comfort you when they came to volition.

Only a person who hates you with all their heart will keep trying to make you upset, remembering all of the things that do; and/or purposefully figure out ways to hurt you.

And someone could very rarely make a shot-in-the-dark insult, that strikes you at your core, or a vulnerability.

What I'm trying to say is: as much as people may or may not insult you, you should take pride in the fact that the hefty majority of them are gonna be shoddily made and mediocre, you smelly troglodyte!

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Time to ruin old quotes, in the most immature ways possible.

"Speak suavely and carry a big dick."

-Ted Rosey

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Wouldn't it be messed up if that band They Might Be Giants made an album called, Idk, "I Like Fun" and then it was quite predominantly about topics like depression and murder and prescription drug abuse and dying under rubble and killing yourself with knives. Haha