Beware: Easy Off Ruined My Enamel Oven!
Are you struggling with a ruined enamel oven after using Easy Off? You're not alone! Many have faced similar issues, and it's essential to understand what went wrong and how to prevent it in the future. In this blog post, we'll delve into the reasons behind Easy Off's adverse effects on enamel ovens and offer some tips for avoiding such mishaps.
What is Easy Off? Easy Off is a popular oven cleaner known for its powerful formula designed to cut through tough grease and grime. It's widely used by homeowners and professional cleaners alike for its effectiveness in restoring oven interiors to a sparkling clean.
The Problem: Easy Off and Enamel Ovens While Easy Off is great for tackling stubborn stains, it can wreak havoc on enamel ovens if not used properly. Enamel, a glassy coating applied to metal surfaces, is prone to damage from harsh chemicals like those found in oven cleaners.
How Easy Off Ruined My Enamel Oven Many users have reported instances where Easy Off caused discoloration, dullness, and even corrosion of the enamel lining in their ovens. The strong chemicals in Easy Off can strip away the protective layer of enamel, leaving the underlying metal vulnerable to rust and deterioration.
Preventing Damage: Tips for Safe Oven Cleaning
Read the Instructions: Always carefully read and follow the manufacturer's instructions on the Easy Off label. Pay special attention to any warnings or precautions regarding usage on enamel surfaces.
Test in a Small Area: Before applying Easy Off to the entire oven interior, test it in a small, inconspicuous area to ensure it doesn't cause any adverse reactions.
Use Protective Gear: Wear gloves and ensure proper ventilation when using Easy Off to minimize exposure to its chemicals.
Opt for Alternatives: If you're concerned about the effects of Easy Off on your enamel oven, consider using alternative cleaning methods such as baking soda and vinegar or specialized enamel-safe cleaners.
Seeking Solutions If you've already experienced damage to your enamel oven due to Easy Off, don't panic. There are steps you can take to mitigate the harm. Contact the manufacturer for guidance on repair or replacement options, and consider consulting a professional oven repair service for expert assistance.
Conclusion: While Easy Off is a potent cleaner for tackling oven grime, it's crucial to exercise caution when using it on enamel surfaces. By following proper usage guidelines and taking preventive measures, you can avoid the nightmare of a ruined enamel oven. Remember, a little care goes a long way in preserving the longevity and beauty of your kitchen appliances.
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"Minecraft needs to be rebalanced! It's too easy to get mending! It's too easy once you have elytra! All the challenges and bosses are optional!"
Yes. That's the point. That's GOOD actually. My little brother needs to be able to play minecraft as much as I can. It's a sandbox game, not an RPG. You can create difficulty and add challenge and modify files! Those are features in the game and regularly adjusted for just that purpose. But the base game is meant to be accessible and universal.
Especially when a lot of "content" comes in the form of professionals, people who earn a living being good at the game and have hours a day to put into it, our perspective is skewed. I love the hermits, but any time they say a farm "only took two hours" to build? I cringe. When hypixel pvp creators talk about how lame netherite makes vanilla gameplay, I sigh. And when someone complains that it's too easy to cheese a mechanic or obtain a villager trade I kind of want to scream.
It's easy *for you*. It's boring *for you*. It's not that it needs to change drastically, you just need to approach it differently. You have a moral objection to how "easy" it is to get a mending villager? Make the rule for yourself that you can only get mending from the loot table. You think elytra take the fun out of travel? Don't use it.
And before you say "well can't they just use accessibility features to make it easier?" NO. That's not the point of those features. Accessibility features that disable quicktime events or remove puzzles aren't to make a game easier, they're to make a game PLAYABLE. Accessibility features in minecraft are to disable view bobbing, change the visual distortions, add directional subtitles....things that make the game playable to people who need them.
Basically, please chill the fuck out about minecraft being easy. If it's too easy and you can't come up with a solution for that, maybe it's just not a game you enjoy playing. Download a mod pack or go play something different.
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The more I think about it, the more Laios and Falin's different perceptions of their parents are a case of "same parents, different childhood".
Whenever someone asks Laios about his and Falin's family, he comments on how they treated Falin but never comments about how how their childhood affected him - in fact, he kind of glosses over it. It's Falin that everyone is rallying to save, it's Falin that's Marcille's friend, it's Falin that everyone has a positive opinion of - he's just the weirdo brother that gets to share some of her light sometimes. He's the one who's only tolerated when he's useful in a dungeon. Falin's treatment is a large part of the reason that he left, but it's the symptom of a larger issue.
When we see Laios' thoughts of his parents in his nightmares, it's all about the expectations that he's supposed to live up to: the expectation to stop being "childish", the expectation to get married (to who his parents picked) and have children, the expectation to take over from his father as the village chief, the expectation to adapt to something that he isn't able to be in the way that people want him to. And these are all things that he has had to be told in some way: he had to be told that Shuro didn't like him, he had to be told that told that the gold-peelers were taking advantage of him - these aren't thoughts that just appeared on their own, these are all failures that someone has explicitly pointed out to him and they haunt him. Some of the things he considers his biggest failures are his failure to provide for and protect Falin and those have very tangible examples he can point to.
We get a glimpse of what happens when he fails to live up to his father's expectations when Falin is born. He expects a certain reaction from Laios and when he fails to give that reaction he physically puts him down, dismisses him, and underestimates how much he understands.
And that's something that's shown to be a bit of a sore point for him - people thinking that he doesn't understand something because he doesn't express himself like people expect. The few times we see him snap at people are because people think he isn't understanding something because he isn't reacting "normally".
On Falin's side, the expectations seem to be a lot different - she's the younger one, for one, she's a girl, and she was so young when the fallout from her having magic happened. She too had an arranged engagement, but that was broken off when she was sent away to magic school and since then, their parents only seem to be passively involved in her life. She's mostly been freed of the expectations that their parents had for her in her village - she won't be coming back after all. She understands why they sent her away, she wasn't completely oblivious to the villagers treatment of her and it was, arguably, for the best so she is at peace with what their relationship is for now. But she still wants to go to her hometown and see for herself with adult eyes because she has never really had the space to do that.
I don't think their parents are inherently evil people - the truth is probably somewhere between Laios and Falin's version of the story, Laios' side tinged by too much cynicism and Falin's by too much naivete.
It just strikes me that when he tried to provide the "normal" way he failed, but given the space to do something similar to what people expected of him, but in his own way, he succeeded. He isn't perfect but his efforts are ultimately fruitful and he is able to carve out a place for himself, Falin, and others who had been ostracized like them to call home.
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
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DCxDP fanfic Idea: Lights and Camera
"There he is," Tim whispered, looking out from behind the library bookshelves. Besides him, Bart, Kon, and Cassie lean over him, stacking each head on top of each other so they can adequately see who Tim is pointing out.
Across the libary, Babs shales her head with a sigh but doesn't call them out. For one, it would be unnecessary loud and another....well, she enjoys having blackmail on her vigilante coworkers and the Young Jutice team climbing on top of each other to stare at a random civilian was the good kind. She turns back to her list of books to stamp and scan back into the system.
Tim had mentioned seeing someone he wanted to recruit for his and his teammates' fake online clothes store. It was the cover the teens had come up with, for an explanation on how they all had such different backgrounds but had still become friends.
The other bats thought it was a mere cover, but Babs knew how seriously Tim took his fake store. It was mostly due to Tim's team making very realistic cosplay outfits that are commissioned to their site. Since they catered to such a nitch community Tim wanted each job to be perfect. (Also he's a nerd like that)
Or maybe it had everything to do with Tim's not-so-secret adoration of photography.
Bart made the clothes, Cassie and Conner modeled and Tim took all the photos. It helped that the speedster was used to making clothes in the post-apocalyptic future, but no one could deny his master of the needle. Cassie and Conner were both rather good looking, and they seemed perfectly fine with showing off this fact.
The thing is, their store is starting to gain traction. If it weren't for the fact, Bart could move as fast as he could, Just Us fashion would be behind orders for months.
Tim was worried someone would catch on and figured they should attempt to hire a co-tailor. They attempted to reach out to fellow heros but no one their age was interested and they seemed rather put off by the idea of asking a adult.
Everyone was still tense from the last time Young Justice asked the Justice League for help.
Tim then decided to attempt to find a civilian who would help them with smaller pieces. Or maybe someone he could throw in front of a camera and pretend Conner or Cassie had taken a step back from modeling to help out with the orders.
His team allowed him to search for someone since they had no idea where to start. Tim scouted through all of Gotham, and ended up landing on Danny Fenton.
Babs had looked into Fenton's background as a favor to Tim and to satisfy her own curiosity. There wasn't much to the boy. Born and raised in a small town in Illinois, Fenton dropped out of high school to get his GED around his junior year. The notes on his file by his English teacher, principal, and school counselor indicated he was bullied out of school.
He passed the exam on the first try and, within a year, moved four states away to join Gotham School of Arts with a major in fashion. His parents were certified geniuses with a family company working in security and "ecto-entities." His sister was going to Gotham University for a physiology major.
The Fentons are a comfortable upper middle class family with no criminal history; the only blemish on their record is Jack Fenton's speeding tickets.
Fenton lived in the better parts of the city, paying his way through college and his own expenses by working as a remote tech support for various companies. It seemed he had inherited a knack for computers from his parents.
Barbara wasn't sure what about Fenton stuck out to Tim. The boy barely participated in public events when it came to his fashion. He only turned in assignments, and unless Tim made a habit of walking through the school of arts, he would have never seen his work.
"Wait, is he wearing-?" Conner whispered, squinting at Fenton, who was tapping away on his laptop. "He is! That's Flame-Flame battle pants!"
"No way." Bart gasps, standing on his toes to lean closer. "They look so good! Where did he get them?"
"He made them," Tim says with a certain lift to his voice that Babs recognizes easily. Aw, her little computer partner has a crush. "He makes all kind of fandom merch that can be worn out in public."
"Tim, we got get him on the team. Look at that Flame-Flames sweatshirt! I need it" Cassie hisses, rocking in place. She nearly causes Conner- who was leaning on her- to tumble over. "Go talk to him."
"I can't"
At that, Babs glances up. She's never heard Tim be nervous to speak to anyone before. Yet that's what she finds as the Young Justice team disappear aroudn the coner surrounding a red face Tim.
"What do you mean you can't? Why not?" Conner asks
"Look, I already tried to recruit him but messed up my pitch." As he admits, Tim kicks his feet, not bothering to look anyone in the eye. When he locked eyes with me, I choked on my spit midsentence."
Cassie slaps a hand over her mouth, but she is not fast enough to hide the snicker that slips through. The glare she gets from the only regular human could have sent her to her uncle Hades. "I'm sorry, you choked on your spit? Mr. CEO of WE? Mr. Suave? Mr. New Lover, every other Tuesday?"
"Shut up you don't get it! He was dressed in a really cool outfit of the Ninjas of Konoha, okay!? I wasn't prepared."
Barbara glances at Fenton as the team attempts to tease Tim. Rather loudly. It's like they forget they are in a really old building, so the acoustics pick up their voices really easily.
Based on his blushing face and hunched-over form, Fenton can obviously hear them. He keeps sending short glances to the shelf the other teens hide in. Fenton glances at his computer screen before rapidly fixing up his hair and straightening his clothes.
He fixes his scattered papers just as Tim rounds the corner of the bookshelves, looking rather nervous as he scoots to Fenton's desk. Babs watches the remaining young juice team whisper and shout encouragement as Tim stands next to Fenton.
Fenton's face, if possible, go even redder, and much to Babs' shock, he even starts to twirl the end of his ponytail around his figure as Tim starts talking.
This is cute. She thinks, aiming her camera phone at the pair. Taking three different shots, each displaying Tim's fumbling mess and Fenton's obvious interest, she quickly sends it to the bats with an evil smirk. And sort of pathetic.
She gets answers instantly, almost everyone teasing Tim or making "They grow up so fast" comments. The messages make a warm feeling of the family burn in her chest, reminding her of all that they argue about; the Bats truly care for one another.
It's Bruce's thoughts that shatters the chat with a simple text.
Why is Tim flirting with the Ghost King?
Babrbara stares at the words for a long moment before she types
Babs: What do you mean? Who's the Ghost King?
Bruce: That's the Ghost King or his human form. He rules the ghosts and our flip dimension. The Justice League Dark has him marked as a level 15 threat.
Damian: I beg your finest pardon? There are only five other beings on that threat level.
Bruce: Exactly. Tim knows not to speak to him.
Steph: Ugh Bruce none of ous knew that.
Bruce: He was in the yearly safety warning PowerPoint. You all said you reviewed it.
Jason: That thing is nine hours long! Of course, not all of us would actually look through it.
Bruce: I worked very hard on it. :'(
Duke: Guys? Shouldn't we worry about Tim? I mean is the Ghost King going to hurt him
Bruce: No, he's known to be very benevolent. Just as long as you don't accidently insult him.
"I'm not a whore!" The voice cuts through the air like a bullet. Barbara glances up just in time to see Tim backing up with a panicked expression as Fenton sneers.
He quickly gathers his things with a flick of his wrist, having all left in a bright green glow, and pushes by the shuttering vigilante. He stomps his way out of the library with an inhuman growl.
Tim throws his face into his hands with a wail of dispair. "I should have never listen to Dick's flirting advice!"
Barbara slaps a head over her forehead before texting the rest. So Tim may have called the King a whore.
Bruce: This is why I ask you to read my safety PowerPoint.
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