The Gibson Thunderbird would like a word.

When you’re rich you can buy all kinds of weird shit.

There was a senior dev at my first job that we called Lord Voldemort and he was the king of ungreppable variable names. Short, full of common characters, and none of them actually described what they were doing. I swear he only used characters that appeared in C++ keywords, so looking for fo would invariably tag every for statement in the file.

He also had hooks set up to notify when anyone was in his area of the code and you’d always get a two-hour phonecall where he’d slowly wear you down and browbeat you into backing out your changes. Every time I pulled a ticket in his codebase I’d internally shudder. He was friends and/or had dirt on the CTO so he just remained in that role and made everyone’s life hell.

“It’s my birthday! I’m a hundred!”

Being around for free drinks is pretty on brand for actual Jesus, too.

Geez this is a deep cut.

Stan all trying to plot a course to Ferenginar on the sly.

Neither too few nor too many.

I agree with you. Even if you never touch it, it’s nice to know what the libraries you’re calling are doing under the hood.

“I UNDERSTAND that one time you saw YOUR MOTHER wearing CLOTHING. The HORROR of it. THE DRAPING FABRIC. THE DELICATE EMBROIDERY. The WAY it BUNCHED UP AROUND HER. I cannot begin to FATHOM how DISGUSTING it must have been for you. TO SEE YOUR MOTHER THERE in CLOTHING. This is not the kind of thing I like to imagine. The FOLDS and GUSSETS and BUTTON HOLES. Imagine your mother PUTTING HER CLOTHING ON, thrusting her STUBBY FINGERS through her BUTTON HOLES as she DRAPES HERSELF IN FABRIC. And when she was done she LOOKED IN A MIRROR…”

I had this whole theory built up about how the aliens were manifestations of the little girl’s trauma and grief and everything was just happening within the town. All the stuff on the radio and TV was her using spooky kid mind powers unconsciously. That’s why they were allergic to water: she has a weird thing about contaminated water glasses.

And then at the end he just hits the fucking alien with a baseball bat and the credits roll. What the actual hell.

Pretty much, yeah.

Getting stopped randomly in the street by people trying to find weed or the Greek Orthodox temple, that’s what.

Have you played the second one? I begged my parents for weeks to rent it. Then I got it and… I can’t even describe it. At one point there’s a platformer puzzle room based on the Three Bears. I played it for a whole weekend because I couldn’t believe how awful it was.

I am ugly laughing at this. Well done.

maybe this will work

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linting and unit tests

Also, apparently the party of “humans can affect climate”.

I’m mostly talking about dry ingredients, which I can mash down, level off, leave heaping…

Most of the issues I had with cooking are a result of how recipes are. Recipe says dice a thing? How small? A teaspoon of something? The hell does that mean? I can fit a ton of stuff in there if I mash it down. Salt to taste? Forget about it. Pretty soon I’m operating in panic mode and maybe the recipe turns out but I’m too stressed out to enjoy it.

Enter Sohla’s cookbook, which explains everything. It’s part cookbook, part autobiography, and part reference manual. Her youtube videos are tremendous fun, too.

Yeah, the goddamn wooden spoon. I remember being noisy in a crib and my mom storming into the room screaming and busting the spoon in half on the side of the crib. She’d already hit me with it so I knew exactly what it meant. I got spoons, open hand, and hairbrushes for most of my childhood. Hair pulling, pinching, and ear-twisting too if we were in a situation where she couldn’t just haul off and hit me.

The funny thing is, she called me up about a decade ago and asked if I could remember anything about my childhood that was bad. And rather than list everything off, I told her about the time she broke the spoon on the crib. That’s when I found out that it hadn’t happened at all, and in fact if it had happened it was because the spoon was old and brittle and if she’d done anything at all it would have been a light tap on the side of the crib to get my attention, and now that she remembers it yeah that’s exactly what happened. It just fell apart in her hands. We didn’t talk for a few years because of that and other things.

After my daughter was born, she sent us a package that included two beautiful olivewood spoons from Israel. I use the fuckers when I’m making pasta. She calls or texts every once in a while warning me about protecting my daughter dark, evil things in the world. This usually happens when she sees a picture of my kid playing with a toy spider or a halloween skull. And I just chuckle and agree that there are dark, evil things in the world and I’m doing my damndest to protect her from them.