Postmortal_Pop @ Postmortal_Pop @lemmy.world

Posts

7

Comments

593

Joined

1 yr. ago

Instantly! I'm already drooling at the door of every meat lab hoping for the day I can get perfect texture meats from any possibly creature to potentially cook with. Imagine the possibilities! Fried dodo, elephant steak, shark kabob, all without the moral, ethical, or biological risks that come with consuming extinct animals, sapient beings, or super predators. The culinary world will never be more shook!

I'm definitely a rat king, but cool dad has been popular.

Fortunately for the genre, you're not the one who gets to define "legitimate"

Is there a sub for these pick your blank things? I love these lol

Doomed and banned from secret Santa? I've never felt so called out.

He's got a far better grasp on career and financial stability but he's to nervous to do things like drive in the big city or see doctors about mental health. He's amazing with computers but not great with mechanical things.

I on the other hand suck with computers and am excellent with mechanical things. I put a lot of effort into self improvement and mental health, but still float around jobs and only have a stable homelife because of my spouse. I'd like to say all the DIY stuff I got growing up helped with that, but most of them were shit quality and the ones that didn't break got absorbed into my dad's things anyway. My diy skills come exclusively from living with a moto of "well fine, I'll just do it myself"

Oh fuck i have a long history of this...

My parents got me a cheap set of tools, pliers, screw drivers, level and a wood burner with no wood to burn at 10. My brother got a gameboy SP and Pokémon.

Two years later I got an electric shaver and Cologne. I didn't start growing facial hair until 17 and didn't have enough to need more than one pass with a razor until 26. Still have the Cologne, it's not awful but it's also not a smell that works for me.

14 I got a store made cake and $20. I can't eat the cake, the frosting makes my face hurt and that's been a problem since I was 5 so they know I can't eat the cake.

Basically, I didn't get a present for me until I met my wife at 30.

Planer, pizza cutter, egg cutter, and scraper go in the knife drawer. Funnel goes with measuring cups, scale goes on the counter or take the stuff out from under it so it sits flat. Garlic press and that chacram looking thing go in the trash.

In our house this is similar to the spoons drawer, the drawer that holds all the stirring utensils for cooking.

Guess you'll just have to find a CEO to Luigi 🤷

I had no idea who this was before your post but his photo on Wikipedia tells me we're definitely stitched from the same leather.

I'd definitely go Lovecraftian with it. These have the vibe of something ancient and unknowable, like the machinations of a universe buried long before anything resembling reason came to be.

I'd really like to, but I'm not sure how to use these things in an interesting way, they're so far removed from any sense of pot. This isn't even the only one I've seen in my dreams either.

I stood in an endless plane of dirty sepia. From every direction, millions of roads with billions of marching people converged on an impossibly giant being. It immerged at the waist from a bottomless chasm, a distorted and emaciated androgenous figure. It's abnormally long arms coiled in front of itself in a mock of modesty for it's nude form. It's face ends cleanly just above the nose a flat plane where it's skull should be.

Above it, a an equally large hole is open in the sky, ash rains down from the hole and drifts to gray the land. A rumbling knowledge in my head tells me that the ash is all that's left of the marching figures as they drop into the hole below the being.

Periodically the being reaches miles into the distance to pluck a single figure by the skull. As it pulls they fractal out into a million reflections of themself, each a portrait of terror, agony, and ecstasy. The rumble shows me that these are the lucky ones, each will create a new path for others to march, though only if their minds survive the touch. Those that don't are brought to the void of the being's skull and dropped within.

The rumble in my head pulls me away to a waxy looking cave and I wake.

I'm still in storage in Tacoma.

What the fuck even is this?

Not gonna lie, if she can take a drone out with that I'd be pretty impressed.

I think my wife would call it a mixed bag. On one hand, the house has never been this fireproof, on the other, she's never had to deal with so much fire.

Former roommates have attested that the food definitely weighs in my favor.