When a customer says some Weird Shit in the middle of check-out,
Okay, so very recently, I was cashiering for Publix, and it was late at night, and I actually didn’t wanna be there, go figure. So this woman walks up, buying about 15-20 items, which is a pretty clean run for me, so I’m scanning her groceries, and we carry a small conversation.
During this conversation, she asks me if I’m in school, and I say yes. I tell her about how exams went, as they were near that period, and told her I had a Biology exam that was over genetics. And she looks me straight in the eyes, with seriousness of a heart attack being read in every wrinkle of her white soccer mom face, and says: “Oh, I’m a Christian, I don’t believe in genetics.”
Flabbergasted. My eyes do that spinny rainbow thing that Apple computers do when theyre buffering. A second goes by. I’ve gone through all stages of grief at this point, but haven’t reached acceptance. I have to say something, I have to say SOMETHING. If I just stare at her through this, she’ll know I think she’s fucking dumb and she might get angry, and I don’t need that. Two seconds have gone by. I have stopped scanning groceries at this point, and am just being violently shot back and forth between two sections of the galaxy. I can feel my body taking leave of my soul. Three seconds. I have to say something.
“Anyway, I did well on my accounting exam, so that’s something. Do you have any coupons?”
Fully convinced that the reason asshole characters are so beloved by their fandoms is it lets people believe they too can get their happy endings without having to put in any work or effort at being better people.
Here’s my empowering warrior armor for Magic Meat March! Got it done just in time! I made the whole get-up out of leather, save for the shoes and the prop dagger. I just went to town this week with the strap cutter and the rivets.
It’s got a jointed spaulder for the shoulder, held in place by an asymmetric harness, zig-zagging down to a supple pouch to hold the necessaries comfortably in place. Onto this attaches a cuisse to guard the thigh.
Then there’s some accessory pieces: A thigh piece made of three panels laced together; an arm band with shearling trim for warmth; and a corset-like bracer to protect the wrist and forearm. Oh, and there’s that mass of straps for the left arm. I’m not even sure what that’s supposed to be for.
If I’d had a bit more time I was planning on adding more fur trim to the other pieces, but since it’s spring time now I don’t think that’s necessary. Wouldn’t want to overheat, after all. That extra padding would just get in the way during a battle anyway.
Now that is some fine craftsmanship and pure real-life male empowerment!
Not only that, the design is so on-point! Love how the straps zig-zag across the model’s torso, with pauldron and codpiece/thong as the pivotal leverage points.
Thank you, @armoreddragon, for joining the ranks of confident men ready to show us what real armor equality looks like!
I feel like one of the biggest misconceptions out there is that all fanfic is written by 12 and 13 year olds
Like the other day I read a fanfic where Jason Todd is remodeling his kitchen and is concerned about wooden countertops because what if you get raw chicken on your wooden countertop?
You think a 13 year old thinks about countertops? Think again my friend that fic was written by an Adult
Somebody tag sacrificethemtothesquid for me please
fIRST OF ALL, wood countertops WARP unless done properly and oiled regularly, but raw chicken on a wood countertop would pose the same risk as raw chicken on anything else. There are studies I can’t be bothered to cite that indicate the enzymes and structure of wood cutting boards make them be more effective for sanitation than plastic or stone, so that would probably hold true for countertops as well.
A good butcher block will last approximately forever if looked after. Personally, I did concrete for our countertops and I flipping LOVE them. Super cheap (like $100 of Henry Feather Finish over existing ugly-but-serviceable laminate) and looks like soap stone.
So. Your fic may be written by a twelve-year-old, but there’s a good chance that that twelve-year-old is cleverly disguised as a thirty-year-old remodeler who aggressively armchair-quarterbacks HGTV.
Steel Phoenix Studios 