This is just plausible enough to be an actual Wheel of Fortune puzzle.

Like, i doubt this is an actual screenshot of the show, but it’s like 40% doubt

I thought it said “snow days” but while i get a change of pace with snow days it’s just not the same 😔

OP, do i have a story for you. I got the original Xbox in 2002. I found that one could copy music from CDs to the hard drive, and so i threw some Enya on there so i could listen to calming music while I studied. Later I put some Linkin Park, Incubus, The Offspring, and some other stuff on, and forgot about the Enya music.

Later I bought the X-Men Official Game, and while playing it, found out one could set the game music to stuff stored on the Xbox. So I’m running around, killing stuff with my big ole wolverine claws, and jamming out to Somewhere I Belong. Imagine my surprise as my killing spree continues and I hear “Who can say where the rain goes…”

NGL, it was pretty funny, but my roommate would not let it slide.

He called me Enya for the rest of the year. Or say “I’m Enya Mom”, or “I’m gonna be Enya sister tonight”.

Good times

It’s like prison, except you’re more likely to get shot

Gotcha, that’s how it is around the university in my area too, to a degree. Not the removable bollards, but the restricted access to maintenance and delivery vehicles. There are barriers, but the infrastructure could be better.

One of the issues I run into at work is my own forgetfulness. When I’m working a high rise or warehouse, no matter how much I prepare and load up my rolling tool cart, I wind up having to go back to the van at least twice per job. I actually charge a facility surcharge when i have to work more than 100m from my van, just to account for the extra time I spend. I’m a locksmith, and there are so many specialty tools that i can’t carry them all. This is especially true when I’m working a multistory residential building with no elevator. So up and down I go.

Anyway, it’s a subject of interest for me. Something needs to be done, especially in city centers. It’s just that most anti-car comments I see don’t seem to take into consideration the logistics of materials and maintenance. Thanks for the nuanced explanation

A bit of a side point. Something I wonder about a lot, as a tradesman in the US, is implementation of restricted vehicle use in city centers while maintaining materials delivery and maintenance.

Since you support removing cars from city centers, how are these logistical challenges addressed? Genuine question, btw. I don’t disagree with you, but I am curious. I’m not familiar with Spanish super blocks. How do they work? How are goods, materials, and equipment delivered? I’m lazy and want answers delivered like pizza

The targeted egg cartons were sold in 25 Costco stores in Alabama, Georgia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Tennessee beginning Nov. 22.

The “Organic Pasture Raised” eggs, sold in sets of 24, have a Universal Product Code (UPC) of 9661910680 with a use-by date of Jan 5, 2025.

Relevant info for those in a hurry

Spoilers for a 37 year old comic book

Not just banging his ex-girlfriend’s daughter (who was a product of SA btw). Giving her a threesome with two simulacrums while he conducted experiments in a lab down the hall. And then gets confused when she gets mad that he’s not giving her 100% of his attention during sex. And then gets a big ol sad when she leaves him for a doughy Batman. And then a bigger sad when he learns he gave all of his old friends cancer (he didn’t actually, that was a conspiracy concocted by Adrian Veidt).

So he goes to Mars, because humans are confusing.

Dr Manhattan is essentially a sperg with super powers

You’re not wrong.

And full disclosure, I was paraphrasing Dr. Manhattan’s monologue from chapter 4 of Watchmen. A kind of tongue-in-cheek homage, if you will

The picture is on my phone.

It is the picture of a bunch of sweaty dudes. They are in a dorm room, in 2002.

In twelve seconds time, I drop the phone to the floor at my feet, a clumsy old fool.

It’s already lying there, twelve seconds into the future.

Ten seconds now.

The phone is in my hand.

I found the picture in my photo archive, twenty-seven minutes ago.

It’s still there, twenty-seven minutes into the past, in a folder, unopened for the last two decades.

I’m still there, looking at it.

The picture is on my phone. Twelve boys have set up two televisions and Xboxes in a 10x12 room. Halo: Combat Evolved is paused.

Seven seconds now.

It’s December, 2024. I’m on the toilet.

It’s July, 2002. I’m in New Jersey, in my dorm room.

Four seconds, three.

I’m tired of sitting on the toilet now.

I stand up.

The phone falls to the floor at my feet.

I am going to take pictures of the stars. They are so far away. And their light takes so long to reach us… All we ever see of stars are their old photohraphs.

(⁠☞ﾟ⁠ヮﾟ⁠)⁠☞

National Epilepsy Day.

We had to give them one, otherwise they’d throw a fit

I’ll^seemyself^out

23 years ago I met a guy at work that was really cool. We became friends of a sort, in the way that a shy introvert considers friends. Every once in a while he’d invite me to hang out with his friends, which was always a good time. I’m not sure if he considered me a friend. I always felt like an outsider in those groups. But he was kind to me, and I love him. Eventually we both moved away from that area. I’m not good at keeping in touch, especially over long distances. For instance, my brother lives a couple of states away, I love him to death, and we talk maybe once a year.

So I’d call my friend every once in a while, and we’d catch up.

Eighteen years ago I lost my friend to depression. The details aren’t important. How he did it. Who found him. The 3 am phone call. But it was 18 years ago. It still hurts. You think you’ll always have someone, that they’re just a phone call away. That you’ll get to hear their weird take on that thing we’d always argue about. That you’ll get to hear his latest poem…

And you’ll always wonder if you could’ve done something to help them stay.

People don’t realize that they bring light to the world. That they’ll be missed. That there will be a hole in the world where they were. That they are loved more deeply and profoundly than they can know. The memory of them is a poor substitute for their presence.

Don’t go too soon. You will be missed.

“I Worked It Out. You Have Killed Two Point Three Three Eight People,” said the golem calmly.

“I have never laid a finger on anyone in my life, Mr Pump. I may be–– all the things you know I am, but I am not a killer! I have never so much as drawn a sword!”

"No, You Have Not. But You Have Stolen, Embezzled, Defrauded And Swindled Without Discrimination, Mr Lipvig. You Have Ruined Businesses And Destroyed Jobs. When Banks Fail, It Is Seldom Bankers Who Starve. Your Actions Have Taken Money From Those Who Had Little Enough To Begin With. In A Myriad Small Ways You Have Hastened The Deaths Of Many. You Do Not Know Them. You Did Not See Them Bleed. But You Snatched Bread From Their Mouths And Tore Clothes From Their Backs. For Sport, Mr Lipvig. For Sport. For The Joy Of The Game.

• Terry Pratchett, Going Postal

That’s nothing! I can last in 100C water, for a (very short) while

Now with vitamin R!

And remember! Yakko spelled backwards is Okkay.

More like a Boeing

Me still quoting Animaniacs