Whitebrow

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Whitebrow,

Behold, the definition of “not my job”

Whitebrow,

For the king. Made for 3 people

Whitebrow,

Spinach puffs. 20 minutes in the oven for a quick and dirty not unhealthy meal. It’s delicious. It’s filling. It’s relatively cheap…. And for some reason I only make it once a month despite having some laying around in my freezer pretty much at all times.

Whitebrow,

Ah shit. Here we go again.

Whitebrow,

The thin mattress on the floor is actually better for your back.

Whitebrow,

I’m sure we could convince Elon to invest

Whitebrow,

With a bidet attachment so it can slurp every last bit

Whitebrow,

Valerian root tea is one I’m familiar with but not sure I’ve seen in regular stores

Whitebrow,

I hate that I read it in the exact voice from the movie. Thanks

Whitebrow,

Well said. People don’t seem to understand that running at 100% capacity and workload is not the natural state of things. Humans aren’t machines (and even mining rigs and other machining equipment don’t chug at 100%, more like 70% as to not reduce lifespan)

Just because you can work with multiple employees being absent does not mean you should be keeping that status quo and not hire more people to alleviate the burden on the team.

Whitebrow,

I know what I’m doing tomorrow.

Whitebrow,

Like all turds, flush it down

Whitebrow,

The water wars are coming.

Whitebrow,

That’s not a suppository I hope

Whitebrow,

Dude’s profile has -400 score, nothing smart or notable in there. Probably farming for hate

Whitebrow,

Truly a blessing and a curse

Whitebrow,

Was a writing prompt that I’ve read quite a few years ago ago, copied below:

“You live in a world where each lie creates a scar on the liar’s body. The bigger the lie, the deeper and larger the mark. One day, you meet someone that only has one scar; it is the biggest one you have ever seen.”

This is the story that followed, credit to wercwercwerc from Reddit.

He was a real good guy, through and through. Never met anyone quite like him since, never really expect I will either.

People like Joe don’t come around often. Once in a lifetime maybe, if you’re lucky.

Almost everyone I’ve ever met had the tiny silvered papercuts of white-lies on their fingers. It’s a price of formalities, a camouflage of sorts- as everyone has a few, some deeper cut than others over the years; opened and reopened time after time. And not just that, but the larger cuts, silvery things on forearms and shins, necks or backs. People lie, it’s just the way of things.

Sometimes the pain it worth the deception, the balancing scale plays out mentally before a person’s mouth opens.

Joining the force was what I wanted. There was a lie I told myself: A Lie I scratched in deep, over and over again. I wanted to change, I wanted my parents to be proud: All lies, tiny scratching lines on my shoulder to create a strange and deceitful pattern that never seemed to heal completely.

In truth, I joined the force because I had nothing left. I joined as a last ditch effort to save myself from rock bottom. Among the elite, surrounded by the brave and the successful, I simply kept my head down. It felt like being a fox, stuck among a pack of wolves. Just being there in the first place felt like deception.

But then, there was instructor Joe.

I had more scars than most, and that earned little trust- but if people were politely cold with me, they were visibly frigid with Joe. See, he didn’t have the traditional marks on his hands, he didn’t have cuts and nicks along his arms, his face or neck: At a quick glance you might have thought him the most honest man alive. In fact, at first people did. A man in his fading thirties without scars?

That’s like a god-damn unicorn. They’re more myth and legend than person- yet there he was. Plain as day.

Everyone liked Joe that first week. Everyone wanted to be on good terms with him- I mean, who wouldn’t? In a world of liars and cheats, proof reminded at every twist and turn of the road, who wouldn’t want someone they could trust?

Well, that was before he took of his shirt in the locker-room. Before we all saw the hideous mark that covered half his back. One lie, but the most gruesome thing I’ve ever seen. From his shoulder blade to his ribs, it looked like a crashing comet of red and silvered white. A tiny portion of it just finally healing, a rough tear now recovered again.

It was all the same lie. That’s something you can just tell sometimes, just know it. Usually you can tell how many times too, but whatever the number was which he’d said that aloud, I don’t know.

He rarely spoke to begin with, issuing the orders with a stern smile, instructing as all the rest did. He was positive, encouraging, truthful: But that scar was on everyone’s mind. Deep, dark, and terrible: Someone who could tell a lie like that… Well, there was someone to watch out for. In the end though, it was at the range when things went well and truly sour.

Live-fire runs, we’d done them a thousand times, but that day I guess someone forgot themselves. Maybe they thought too much on what and how and their brain skipped a beat, or maybe they were just careless. Regardless of the reason, a shot fired when it shouldn’t have. Brass spit fire, Air swallowed metal, and lead took its first taste of iron, calcium, iron and dirt.

In that order.

We all stopped, eyes wide and watching that kid fall down real slow. First standing, staring with his hand pulling away- not even scared, just shocked. Red, like deep crimson soaking and spreading, he dropped down to his knees. Still, he wasn’t even there yet, it hadn’t quite processed.

That’s when Joe caught him- and all the shouting erupted. The pandemonium, the first real training turned to action kicking in. Cries for “Medic!” and “KIT! Get the kit!” as people ran for the directions they thought mattered.

I was close enough to know that wasn’t going to make a difference. Center of mass was what we trained for, the reason was straight and forward: Shoot to kill. Eliminate the target and move on.

So I sat there, weapon heavy in my hands as I watched Joe hold this kid, blood pouring out into the dirt like a faucet, and I listened to him repeat the words that cut deep. Over, and over, and over again.

“Hang on, look at me. You’re gonna be alright.”

“You’re gonna be alright.”

Whitebrow,

Game of thrones. Just pretend last 2 seasons don’t exist and you’re good.

Whitebrow,

You just explained why the last 2 seasons sucked which goes in line with what was said above

It doesn’t seem like you disagree lol

Whitebrow,

If we had source material, maybe, yeah.

Just not whatever that “creative liberty” was.

Whitebrow,

About once a month. If I’m lucky.

Whitebrow,

Standard issue poop break

Whitebrow,

Love how this is how my tax dollars are being used.

Not working towards solutions for actual problems, but instead how to re-label a street name.

Whitebrow,

You tell it to bite somebody and it does*

Otherwise it’s just negligence, but yeah, otherwise it’s accurate enough

Whitebrow,

It’s the enhanced tracking protection that is built into Firefox. Disable it. Login. Re-enable. Had this issue for months now.

Whitebrow,

Coupled with laying off a few thousand employees

Whitebrow,

The “joycons” don’t bring me joy. They make my hands cramp and are only full of cons.

Whitebrow,

Many technologies exist around the inconvenience of having small flimsy drifting controllers in a several player setting. For example: You could pair your phones via Bluetooth or internet for party games in a similar fashion to Jackbox or other party games as a controller/ data entry device.

We shouldn’t need to rely on third party applications or controllers to have a good experience with your platform, be it physically or digitally, especially when the technology has existed for many years.

And don’t even get me started on the software side experience.

Whitebrow,

None taken and it is quite possible, but they’re most definitely made for smaller hands than mine, and while I can use them, I’d much rather have something that is more… pleasant to use… as opposed to purely functional.

I did have other consoles over the course of it all too: from sega to ps5, gameboy(s), vita and even wii

Some of them deserve more criticism than others is all

Whitebrow,

This one is from my previous boss: “you gotta do what’s good for you, and nobody else”

Taught me to prioritize things that are important to me and not to live for the sake of others

Another was “you can’t help people who don’t want to help themselves”

Taught me that some efforts are futile because unwillingness from others will result in deterioration to the status quo unless they’re willing to participate to move things forward

Whitebrow,

-43c / +46c

Probably going to be more hotter seasons and never going to experience the -40s again with the way climate change is going…

Whitebrow,

The programming team that is working hard on your project is just one dude and he smells funny. The programming team you’ve met in your introductory meeting are just the two unpaid interns that will be fired or will quit within the next two months and don’t know what’s happening. We don’t do agile despite advertising it. Also your project being a priority means it’ll be slapped together from start to finish 24 hours prior to the deadline. Oh and there will be extra charges to fix anything that doesn’t work as it should.

Whitebrow,

Hottest day this year so far*

Still got more summer to go

Whitebrow,

Probably be a shorter answer if we ask how many aren’t hahah

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