Shit therapists say really does feel like those "shouldn't this be obvious" game loading screen tips. Like you got stuff like "communicating your feelings verbally will make others aware of how you feel" and "if you feel overwhelmed in a situation, you can remove yourself from the situation until you calm down" and you roll your eyes like ugh isn't that just common sense, but someone who got thrown in with no tutorial and is operating everything completely wrong will spit out their cereal like HOLD ON YOU CAN JUST DO THAT?
if you imagine this isnt about basketball then this headline depicts an intriguing development in a factional war to decide the fate of our world
*sticks my hand in your nucleus and swirls your dna around*
I'm a prokaryote
using a fork and twirling it like spaghetti
aaatttctga caaacgttac agggtgctgc tctgcaacgg tcaccagact cccgctctcc aacaaggtac tcacagcagt agacaggtca ctgcgttgtc cttgagatct aggagctcca cactcgataa gtaagttgcc ttctttactg cagtattctt tattctgctg gtctgttcct ttcgctttct cgatgtggca gcgggcacca aaataccact tcactttatt aaaagtttgc ttcttcacaa aattagcgaa cccctgtagg tggggtgttc ggccttcctc attaccctcc tcgccaacaa taaaataatc aaatagggag attgggagct cccgtatttt cttgcgctcg tcttcggaag gattattgag agtgaacacc caccttttat gtggttgggg tccgcttctt ccattcttct tactgggcat gttgctgctg aggtgctgcc gaggtgctgc cgctgccgaa gtgcgctggt aatacttaca gcgcacttct ttcgttttca gctatgacgt atccaaggag gcgtttccgc agacgaagac accgcccccg cagccatctt ggccagatcc tccgccgccg cccctggctc gtccaccccc gccaccgtta ccgctggaga aggaaaaatg gcatcttcaa cacccgcctc tcccgcacca tcggttatac tgtcaagaaa accacagtca gaacgccctc ctggaatgtg gacatgatga gatttaatat taatgatttt cttcccccag gagggggctc aaaccccctc actgtgccct ttgaatacta cagaataagg aaggttaagg ttgaattctg gccctgctcc ccaatcaccc agggtgacag gggagtgggc tccactgctg ttattctaga tgataacttt gtaacaaagg ccaatgccct aacctatgac ccctatgtaa actactcctc ccgccatacc ataacccagc ccttctccta ccactcccgg tactttaccc cgaaacctgt ccttgatggg acaatcgatt acttccaacc caataacaaa agaaatcaac tctggctgag actacaaact actggaaatg tagaccatgt aggcctcggc actgcgttcg aaaacagtat atacgaccag gactacaata tccgtataac catgtatgta caattcagag aatttaatct taaagacccc ccacttaacc ctaagtgaat aataaaaacc attacgaagt gataaaaaag actcagtaat ttatttcata tggaaattca gggcatgggg gggaaagggt gacgaactgg cccccttcct ccgtggattg ttctgtagca ttcttccaaa ataccaagga agtaatcctc cgatagagag cttctacagc taggacagca gttgaggagt accattccaa cggggtctga ttgctggtaa tcagaatact gcgggccaaa aaaggtacag ttccaccttt agtctctaca gtcaatggat atcgatcaca cagtctcagt agatcatccc acggcagcca accataaaag tcatcaataa caaccacttc ttcaccatgg taaccatccc accacttgtt tcgaggtggt ttccagtatg tggtttccgg gtctgcaaaa ttagcagccc atttgctttt accacaccca ggtggcccca caatgacgtg tacattggtc ttccaatcac gcttctgcat tttcccgctc actttcaaaa gttcagccag cccgcgg
I'm not translating all of that
lass it's a genome
did you just
make a genome?
no joke in it
you just posted a genome sequence?
yeah, t-something bacteriophage if memory serves
why
the issue with the dishes and getting rid of leftovers in the fridge and so on is that Well you dont want to do it because it sucks and is gross. so you can avoid it for a while. but watch out! because now its worse
Okay so i think i accidentally hacked someone’s dog’s instagram
CAN I GET ARRESTED IF I POST A PICTURE OF MY DOG
Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.
Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.
Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.
You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.
As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.
Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.
This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.
A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.
