Not really, mostly because I'm not really an open anything. Most I've done is try to convince people that union dues are worth it, and help the new guys learn that you can actually say no to shit if they try to schedule you twelve days straight.

(They do try to play it off as a mistake, but for some reason, they always do it to the new guys, and never to thoseo f us who've been here a while.)

Oubliettes are making a comeback. Get hype.

"It's going to be a maze."

Was it cold water? That got my throat to cramp once.

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I mean, we have flag poles in many towards in our country. But from what I've heard, some people fly their flag every day. And that's kinda weird.

You made me hear a full two seconds of that song before I could click away. I have now become a gamer, and it's all your fault. I'm gonna go say bad words to women and minorities, starting my inevitable slide towards creating The Fourth Reich.

Is this one of those deep fake things or is the world just slightly more lame than I thought?

Got the astrazeneca one the day before yesterday. Like an all-night kick in the head. But at least it's done for now.

Yeah. A good thing is a good thing, and it's good that good things are done. Like, I have done two good things in my life, doesn't make up for the three fucked up things I've put others through.

But those two things were pretty good. And that's despite them being associated with me.

No one could unironically believe this. If hellfire missiles could solve the problems in the middle East, they'd be using them back home and tell everyone down there to go fuck themselves.

Depends on the podcast. Something like LORE or one of the many McElroy goof-em-ups I can just keep on as background babble, but anything story driven or more intellectual I kinda have to focus on or it'll just get frustrating.

As one of few white people at my job, it's kinda fucked that I'm the one my managers expects to relay information to people, even though I really have no such position, or any real seniority.

And many of the immigrants who work here speak just as good Swedish, plus their own language, and know way more people than I do. I bring that up with the managers, but what makes that a kinda losing battle is that they're continuously swapping out managers, so what's policy one month is completely new the next.

Which is, rather selfishly, the one thing I hate most about my job. They keep swapping in new people who have no idea how things are done, so even when they have good ideas, they have no idea how to implement them. And since they're always changing, by the time you've convinced them about something they should do, they're already halfway out the door.

And they keep re-organizing work groups, so even when you've started fixing the problems among yourselves, you're suddenly working with people you've never managed to form any kind of rapport with, so you have to start over again.

And the few constant managers keep talking about how well it was going two years ago, and want us to work like we did then, as if they weren't among the people who made those methods impossible in the first place.

I mean, big fucking fireballs are neat, but I really don't wanna hurt people. Healing, however, I could do that shit all fucking day.

Just imagine all that pain you can make just go away. Yeah, I wanna be a healer.

That's a very odd way to spell "Rhubarb", comrade...

Your new, government approved fursona is a pillbug named "DIRT". It is teal, pink, and green, and it likes dirt. Straight up potting soil. Proceed with your day, Comrade.

It's fucked up enough when that happens when the perpetrator isn't a cop, but it's even weirder when they are. Like, they've got a gun right there at their hip. It'd be so much less troublesome if they used it to, you know, make this shit not someone else's problem.

Man, and I thought people who post as their pets were a little fucked up. This is like, ADVANCED fucked.

It's true. Unlike "America", here, The Stove is forbidden at night where I live. Fire hazard. We can only eat pickles at night. Everything but pickled cucumbers. I sometimes try to make an "American Hamburgher" from pickled bread and pickled meat and pickled cheese and pickled mustard and pickled fish, but you just can't replicate it with pickled food. Tomorrow, when the Stove Fuhrir turned the stoves on again, I will try to make it, if I can get in the breadlines early enough to get a chance to debase myself for some Hamburgher buns.

Wish me luck, "America".