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“I have all these OCs! But no story…”

bruh

make a fighting game

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Hey, real talk to anyone who has or wants a chinchilla-- this wheel is way too small for this chin. I cohabit with one of these gremlins and did a lot of research before ultimately getting him a 15" wheel, the literal biggest on the market (at least as of writing), and just looking at how little room is in there in this video is genuinely sad. This can cause back pain and permanent back problems because of the way the chin has to arch to use a wheel this small.

Even if something says it's chin-safe in the pet store, please please please do follow-up research!! This is a lesson I only learned AFTER losing my current chinchilla's brother/father/lover (yeah it was weird for me too) to a treat that claimed to be safe for chins but was Absolutely Not. I know first hand how bad it feels to be the reason a creature you love has its little life cut short, via your own good intentions. Safe chinchilla wheels are expensive-- I spent around $200 on the one Raz uses, but it's worth every penny to make sure you're not dooming them to a life of pain.

If that's not something you can afford, it's better to not have a wheel at all; just let them out in a safe, enclosed area to get out their zoomies! You can get a wire playpen at most pet stores on the cheap. The one I have (he goes in Chinchilla Jail, set up in the kitchen where it's easier to clean up after him/there is no carpet for him to attempt to ingest, during cage cleanings) folds up nicely for easy storage, and can be arranged into multiple shapes/sizes!

Sorry if this is annoying or ruins the video for you or something, but it's genuinely super important to me that people know about this if they're going to have one of these creatures in their life.

Bonus gremlin tax:

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Omfg. Dream AOC really put the fear of god into this fossil 🙏

(source)

You know how when you tell people about some kind of weird dream you had they'll often be like, “haha what were you smoking??”

No. Fuck that. I haven't smoked or drank since The Seizure and my dreams have been at their most vivid and bizarre bro.

The setting: I have convinced my sister to play some sort of video game with me. We are all snuggled up in my bed with our controllers, solving various puzzles (one of which drains the entire IRL Atlantic Ocean. Don't worry about it that never comes up again). She dozes off mid-game because of course she does.

Beneath the bed, there is a Thump.

I try to shine my phone flashlight down into what I have for years now dubbed The Abyss, but instead of being able to see the general mess that typically resides down there, it is only blackness. A shadow lurches forward at almost impossible speed.

I jerk back and turn to attempt to wake my sister; she is gone.

On pure instinct I scramble after the shadow, which I am now pretty sure has abducted her. I manage to trip said shadow and my sister drops out of it, like video game loot. She is, miraculously, awake (this might be the most unrealistic part of this whole dream, trying to wake that bitch up takes way more than this). The shadow is on the move again, slower, clearly injured, and we pursue.

As we step into what should have been my kitchen, we see the shadow limp into the center of a nearly empty room, grabbing onto a large wooden podium for support.

The light streaming in from the window reveals him to be none other than Mitch McConnell.

My shock and alarm somehow summons Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, with whom I share a look that apparently telepathically communicates what has just gone down. She freezes him in place with naught but her gaze, and, for reasons that seemed very important, dusts the podium for his fingerprints…. with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. He gazes upon us, frozen still, with his sunken, forlorn eyes. He knows the jig is up. My partner appears to help, and he and AOC begin to drag the haggard wretch off to his fate.

He falls again.

And then I woke up and stared at the ceiling for a while. What the fuck.

Bonus:

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Love how tumblr has its own folk stories. Yeah the God of Arepo we’ve all heard the story and we all still cry about it. Yeah that one about the woman locked up for centuries finally getting free. That one about the witch who would marry anyone who could get her house key from her cat and it’s revealed she IS the cat after the narrator befriends the cat.

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I’m gonna tell you guys the dream I once had about my talking horse. Bear with me, it’s long but worth it. I was on my way to work and stopped at the gas station for a drink when I noticed this pedestal there that was never there before so I’m like “ooh what is this” and it’s a shopping catalog I’m like hell yeah and start flipping through and they have a horse (a horse!) for $99. I had no choice but to buy the horse so I go outside and my horse is already out there. I walk up to it and go to get on and it tried to bite me so I’m like “hey what the hell I love you why are you doing this” and the horse replies “well you would be kinda freaked out too if some stranger tried to get on your back” so of course I’m like “YOU CAN TALK” and I befriend the horse. I’ll skip through the details (it was a very vivid and detailed dream, I loved it) of us riding through town and laying in the grass talking (which is apparently illegal in my dream, excuse me officer this is a damn -talking- horse we can lay in this grass and talk if we want to) and getting to know each other. This horse was magnificent, it was my best friend. I finally realize that in all the excitement of my new talking horse, I left my car at the gas station so I’m like “ok horse you wait here and I’m gonna get my car”. What does the horse do? Not wait there. So I set off with my friend and my boyfriend to find my horse. We come to an area and I see my horse and right as we go to get to it, it falls down a hot tub and disappears. I’m like “guys you don’t understand, we have to save my horse, we’re going down that damn hot tub” so we go. We fall through the hot tub and enter a very pretty land with trees and rolling hills and a mansion off in the distance. Looking around we finally find my horse but before we can do anything a male voice echoes throughout the land “I know where you are and I’m coming for your talking horse!” Oh hell no bitches we going to hide in that mansion over there. We get to the mansion and the voice is there again, in the mansion with us “come out come out wherever you are, I’m gonna find you and get your hoooooorseeeeeee” so I’m like “guys we have to hide”. We put the horse in a back room, my friend hides in a closet, my boyfriend goes in the bathroom and I hide behind a couch. The man comes in the room “I know you’re here, I’m gonna find you, I’m gonna kill you, and I’m gonna take your talking horse” I’m like who IS this guy so I peak around the couch and it’s none other than George W Bush what the hell please I don’t even have time to process this right now because he goes in the bathroom. I’m like oh hell my man in there I’m gonna have to go save him so I go to get my friend and she ain’t even there! She left us! (Note: I was legitimately mad when I woke up, how dare you abandon us like that!) it’s all up to me. I head to the bathroom and see that he is about to hit my boyfriend so I grab a corded phone and hit him over the head with it and wrap the cord around his neck and look up at my boyfriend and say “one of us is going to have to slit his throat” And then I woke up.

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You know how when you tell people about some kind of weird dream you had they'll often be like, “haha what were you smoking??”

No. Fuck that. I haven't smoked or drank since The Seizure and my dreams have been at their most vivid and bizarre bro.

The setting: I have convinced my sister to play some sort of video game with me. We are all snuggled up in my bed with our controllers, solving various puzzles (one of which drains the entire IRL Atlantic Ocean. Don't worry about it that never comes up again). She dozes off mid-game because of course she does.

Beneath the bed, there is a Thump.

I try to shine my phone flashlight down into what I have for years now dubbed The Abyss, but instead of being able to see the general mess that typically resides down there, it is only blackness. A shadow lurches forward at almost impossible speed.

I jerk back and turn to attempt to wake my sister; she is gone.

On pure instinct I scramble after the shadow, which I am now pretty sure has abducted her. I manage to trip said shadow and my sister drops out of it, like video game loot. She is, miraculously, awake (this might be the most unrealistic part of this whole dream, trying to wake that bitch up takes way more than this). The shadow is on the move again, slower, clearly injured, and we pursue.

As we step into what should have been my kitchen, we see the shadow limp into the center of a nearly empty room, grabbing onto a large wooden podium for support.

The light streaming in from the window reveals him to be none other than Mitch McConnell.

My shock and alarm somehow summons Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez, with whom I share a look that apparently telepathically communicates what has just gone down. She freezes him in place with naught but her gaze, and, for reasons that seemed very important, dusts the podium for his fingerprints…. with a Mr. Clean Magic Eraser. He gazes upon us, frozen still, with his sunken, forlorn eyes. He knows the jig is up. My partner appears to help, and he and AOC begin to drag the haggard wretch off to his fate.

He falls again.

And then I woke up and stared at the ceiling for a while. What the fuck.

Bonus:

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dont tag bible stuff as mythology God isnt mythology

hi hello how are you. most if not all story-based religions are in fact considered mythology by definition including the abrahamic religions. god is in fact abrahamic mythos whether you think he’s real or not. im sorry if that upsets you but im assuming this is regarding the post i just reblogged and i have to say im surprised the part you’re upset about is me tagging biblicalia as mythology and not the entire discussion on who tops in jesus/judas ship discourse

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have come to the realization that all my favorite ships have a dynamic of

character a: gee, i sure hope he doesn’t find out about my crush on him!

character b, eyes narrowing: what sort of sick and twisted mind games is he playing

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5 minutes into the fabric store: wow the world has so much to offer and so many possible wonderful things to make

10 minutes into the fabric store: everything around me will continue to pollute the earth long after humans are gone and this ring of plastic minion beads will see the new pangea

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I do enjoy twitter community notes

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can we get more security clearance stories? they are amazing

Yeah, sure. Remember how getting contractors in to perform regular to the maintenance is basically impossible? One of the issues that we have is that the roof is kind of fucked. Like, in the newer sections, it's fine, and in the older sections, it leaks and we just have big barrels to catch the rainwater, and in the oldest sections there are actual holes. Which is crazy, because the oldest sections are where a lot of the tests happen. Those are almost always the most important parts of the facility. And the holes have been a problem for a while, but it is only "recently" (the last ten years) (yes, that is recent in government time) that the holes got big enough to fit birds.

So we have been getting birds into our secret facility.

This causes several issues.

The first issue is that, surprisingly, the people here are gentle, and they don't like seeing birds die. Some of the old hands are pretty jaded about it, and they have tennis rackets that they used to use for uh... bird removal. But the newer batch threw a fit when they suggested that, so now we have to make a big ordeal out of getting the birds out of the building. And if I sound bitter about it, I'm not - I am one of the people that said absolutely no bird smashing. But it is much easier to catch a bird than it is to just smack it out of the air.

(Another layer of difficulty is the whole "working in a labyrinth" thing. The birds have a lot of places to run.)

The second issue is that sometimes we can't get the birds out, and they die in weird places. This isn't just sad - it makes the test areas smell bad for weeks afterwards, and a lot of us spend the majority of our working hours in those locations. So it's sad and gross and stinky.

And the third issue, which is actually kind of the worst, is that government knows about the "perimeter leaks" (IE, large holes in the ceiling) and instead of fixing the holes, they put extra security measures in place. You know, in case spies climb in through the holes. Which means that, unfortunately, instead of getting the holes fixed, we got a state of the art alarm system, complete with motion detection lasers.

So the birds get in, and we actually can't leave until they get out, because they will, and have, and frequently do, trip the alarms. And when the alarms trip, people get called in to check the site and confirm for the 10,000th time that no, it's not Russians: It's birds.

It's always birds.

(Some of the techs actually kind of enjoy those calls during the weekends, because it means free overtime where there's literally nothing asked of them. Getting the "bird alarm" call is just 4 hours of OT where you check the test cell and confirm, no spies, just birds, then sit there and play checkers or read or whatever until the airforce base calls back and says that it seems safe enough for you to go home.)

(Engineers like those calls less, because we don't get time and a half, and we also don't need the cash quite as much as the techs do.)

Anyway, the crazy scenario is when it's like, 30 minutes to quitting, and a bird gets in. Because now we can't leave until we get the bird out. And the scene that happens is actually quite pretty.

So, the first thing that will happen is that there will be yelling downstairs. The downstairs people are always irate about birds getting in close to quitting. The anger is directed vaguely at the bird, and vaguely at the government, and more specifically at whatever absolute fuckhead bought us an alarm system instead of fixing our roof.

The majority of the crowd of grousing engineers and techs will then move into the upper offices. A couple will break off to grab the floodlight and shine it down the stairs, a few more will prop the doors open, and someone will venture back into the basement to turn off the light.

Click, the light goes off, it's dark, there's this big, warm, yellow pool of light just dripping down the stairs like a river of melted butter, and there's a crowd of tennish people + whoever is poking their heads out of the office to watch. No one will be breathing at all... and then, 9 times out of 10, a little bird will flit out of the basement, up the stairs, towards the light, and trigger the apocalypse.

Everyone chases the bird.

The goal at first is not to catch the bird. That's very difficult, and none of us have very good hand eye coordination. The goal is to thunder along and keep the bird from sitting down and having a breather.

We are there to exhaust the bird.

It is just accepted that this thundering herd will go wherever the bird goes. If your office door is open, and the bird flies in, it doesn't matter what reports you're filling out, or what phone call you're on - you are expected to deal with the panting and scrambling and general primal chaos of the hunting party until the bird goes somewhere else. Eventually, the bird will slow down enough that someone can catch it. This is a semi-coveted position, because, yes, you do get to hold a bird in your hand. And holding a bird is a wonderful thing. They are so soft, and so small, and you feel so careful with the poor thing. But also, it will bite you. Always. And the birds out here bite like needle nose pliers. It hurts so bad. I have been the guy holding the bird before, and it's this kind of beautiful scene again - to be standing there, hands cupped gently around this thing that is chewing the fuck out of the squishy webbing between my thumb and my palm. Tears streaming down my cheeks, surrounded by my little hunting party, that is telling me how much further until the nearest exit, opening all the doors for me. Hushed in the silence as they acknowledge my sacrifice. Inspecting the chomps afterwards and giving their opinion on how long it will be until it stops hurting.

I'm getting a little lost in the sauce here and don't really know how to end this. It's a really good job. Wouldn't be half as fun if it was run in a sane and competent manner.

I'll make this into a post at some point.

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me at 6:99 am when work starts at 7 🐱