Vendor today told me it's a feature, not a bug, that their software doesn't understand time zones. Triple checked just now that it is 2019 and not 1819.

Steam and Password Hell Show more

Destiny videogames ribbing Show more

Day job subtooting/shade Show more

Day job subtooting/shade Show more

Debating if a blog post on the TechnoGnostic Eschatalogy of Westworld and Travelers is of much merit to anyone other than me getting it out of my own head. Falling into weird TechnoGnostic Eschatology rabbit holes is partly why I've got fascinating chapters attempting to expand my story Princesses for Planetary Peace to a novel I don't think I could actually sell.

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🐦 This is a cross-post from Twitter, its contents might suck 🐦 Show more

Max boosted

Maybe this is why I hate most horror so much: there’s plenty anxiety without it.

RT @theheatherhogan@twitter.com

Me: I don’t understand the appeal of horror.
Stacy: It’s just like getting your heart rate up for a sustained period of time like WHAT TERRIBLE THING’S GOING TO HAPPEN?!???!
Me: I’ve spent countless amounts of money and endless hours in therapy to not feel like that ALL THE TIME.

🐦🔗: twitter.com/theheatherhogan/st

A woman just asked me why I was reading in a bar (drinking fresh beer) on NYE, and fam I did not not have great answers, because this is my life year round

The afternoon rain today smelled so deeply of the angels share. It was an interesting mix of pleasant with the unpleasant damp soaking as I walked to a late lunch today. Old histories describe the smell of this city that way, that even on an ugly rainy day there's a weird sort of pleasant ring at the back of the nose. It's nice to have that back, I suppose.

I love this late night jazz club (Jimmy Can't Dance) under this multi-generational sandwich shop (Another Place Sandwich Place), but my lone complaint remains that I want a late night sandwich menu.

ISP gripes Show more

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🐦BORB🐦 Show more

When the anthropological history of twerking is written, do you believe that Cosmic Thing by the B-52s will be appropriately recognized as an ur-text? If so, do you expect healthy academic debates regarding the songs thesis that twerking like actions are a gift from space aliens?

Holiday Round of Hit Game Show: Crazy or Bluetooth Show more

December adulting Show more

Instance admin thoughts Show more

Instance admin thoughts Show more

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Smeap.com

Smeap is the honk of a flamingo. Smeap was also at least once, a storybook land at the weird intersection of TV ads and the worlds they seem to inhabit. It was a place where wars were fought over sodas, and talking polar bears had very good reasons to guard soda machines. It was a place where rainbow color candies were harvested for electric power. It was a place where a prairie dog might move to big city inhabited mostly by Pink Flamingos to follow her dream to be private investigator, only to get slowly entangled in the seedy underbelly of crime and prohibited soda trading of the Neon Flamingos and their syndicate. Social media at times lately feels like it has become almost entirely seedy underbelly with very little upside. Maybe it needs more storybook worlds.