Totally not the answer you were here for, but you could likely upgrade your setup by reaching out to your local school district and asking if you can loot their e-waste. They’ll want to keep any storage because it may contain sensitive data, but all the rest of the hardware is free for the pickings. My son’s pc, my server, and my two projectors all came from an e-waste crate at the local school district office.

I have tentative plans to make my own smart lock by way of electric motor and commercial deadbolts with an RF scanner and a back up battery for emergency. It won’t be amazingly secure in a tech way, but I figure the combination of novelty and DIY should make it reliable.

That said, I gotta be that guy and remind everyone that all locks are security theatre and are not going to protect your house from the persistent or prepared. Your best defense is a combination of foresight and social engineering.

Are you me? Seriously I was going to to post this same thing. I’ll upvote for traction.

Morrowind on the original Xbox came with cheat codes. Put the cursor over the health, magicka, or fatigue bar, enter the codes with the black and white buttons then hold A until the bar fills. If you close the menu before you let go of A, it will continue to refill constantly until you open your menu again.

Health: B, W, B, B, B, A

Magicka: B, W, W, B, W, A

Fatigue: B, B, W, W, B, A

You could actually use the magicka code for all 3, but I liked that there were 3 different codes.

Ebooks for my dyslexia, when you’re so chaotic you circle back around to lawful.

Yeah, I’m buying this on payday. It will be my first Amazon purchase since bezos and musk had a dick spaceship swinging contest.

The Sherman shield, the only heritage an American needs.

I never said they’d do away with us, we simply won’t be part of the “economy”. The fineries of life will become increasingly limited to the haves and we have-nots won’t be considered in the metrics in the same way that some people do tolerate the ads in a game otherwise meant to catch whales. We’ll still work for our wages and spend it on our necessities but the island of what is meant for us will shrink and eventually lottery players will dream of ordering pizza instead of owning a yacht buying a nice car paying off their debts.

In mobile gaming we have an issue with whaling. A game will come out monetized beyond reason, and it doesn’t matter if 99% of players quit in the first hour, 1% of players have more money than brains and what they pay will make the game profitable. This is so effective that the play store now has no games worth playing because this is a far more lucrative business.

I see a lot of people taking about capitalism inevitably collapsing, but if all the money is collected in the hands of the 1%, products for the unreasonably wealthy will be the lucrative market. It doesn’t matter if only two people buy cars a year if the cars are sold at such a markup that it covers the annual expenses. Some my think that’s unrealistic, but we already have people who will spend a hundreds on a brick with a brand name on it. The ultra rich pay hundreds for a beige shirt that’s slightly higher quality than Walmart.

We’d be better off going back to barter than trying to peacefully pry the system from their clutches.

That’s fucking great album cover.

I’ve read a few, but the one that I’d most likely recommend is The Luminous Dead by Caitlin Starling. It’s a beautiful tale of grief and closure over the course of a month long solo splunking expedition on an alien planet in a futuristic supersuit. It was so good all the way through!

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

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.

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.

Beelzebub himself will fear the Bagger 288!

What the fuck even is this?