758 posts shown.
Gregory Walker15 said:Actually, my buddy's got the gas mask at his place right now. 😬
Alright, let’s get one thing straight—I am officially calling for a massive blowout session. I’m talking a full-scale celebration for the Mahavishnu Orchestra, fueled by an absolutely ridiculous amount of beer. Who's in? 😉
I honestly don't even know how to break it to my colleague anymore—it just reeks. No matter how many times I try to frame it, there's simply no way to sugarcoat the fact that this whole situation stinks.
boldscout72 said:I’ve been seeing that with a lot of people lately. Seems like some kind of new trend.
Goddammit, and here I am actually looking for a gas mask for work survival... 🙂
By the way, where does one even go to buy that stuff?
The absolute worst offender at the office today:
1. My cubicle neighbor is dealing with a sore throat and—get this—is trying to cure it with raw garlic... 😱 😠 🙂 😵 🙄 👎 🙂 :2up:
Honestly, I’m just sitting here regretting that I didn't grab a massive plate of beef stew or some roasted squash for lunch yesterday instead of dealing with this... 🙂
Matthew Hall3 said:Look, issse, I’ve been reading through this thread above and—honestly?—I am absolutely floored. What kind of fake MODSI are you people even pretending to be?! "Oh, the sound system wasn't great," "Oh, the acoustics were off"—give me a break! If you actually claim to be a true fan, none of that matters; you show up because you love the band, period. If you don't? Then get lost. Honestly, just delete your account and save us the trouble; you shouldn't have even bothered showing up to the show. There are people out there who spent months scraping every cent together just to afford a trip to NYC, and they were practically begging at the gates just to snag a ticket!
Hey, Matthew Hall3, here’s a little dose of reality for you— [SLIKA OBRISANA] [SLIKA OBRISANA] [SLIKA OBRISANA] —since you seem so eager to spread that much "love" to your fellow fans... 😬
And if you want to talk about Modse [SLIKA OBRISANA] being mentioned, fine—if you’re really that desperate to have your entire presence wiped from this forum. 🙂
http://weather.com/forecasts"The local weather forecast for Washington, D.C. and the surrounding metro area for June 10, 2006
Expect a day of shifting clouds with intermittent rain—and honestly, keep an eye out for those sudden, localized thunderstorms that always seem to catch you off guard. It’s going to feel a bit cooler, too. We’re looking at more significant rainfall hitting mid-day and stretching into the afternoon. Winds will stay mostly light, though they might pick up to a moderate breeze from the north and northeast toward the end of the day. Morning temperatures should hover between 12 and 14 degrees, with a daytime high reaching about 17 degrees Celsius.
Last updated June 09, 2006, at 11:00 AM"
Nicholas Perez33 said:I honestly think this one hits the mark the best. 😁
👍
I actually included those first five just to lean into the exaggeration—I wanted to make a point—and then I threw the sixth one in there purely as a bit of contrast. 🙂
Nicholas Perez33 said:By the way, take a look at Angus Young. 🙂
And then there’s Eddie Van Halen. 😲
Edward Ped... Honestly, Vader is just better because he’s more straightforward—no unnecessary fluff. As for Haley, I haven't even bothered to look into him since his whole vibe doesn't really intersect with my life at all. But if we're talking about sheer capability? Yeah, he’s definitely there. He’s sitting right up there in that elite tier alongside Mascis and Fripp. 😬
analogharbor442 said:👋
👋
👍
That goes without saying. 😁
wanderingraven20 said:and some "outsiders" 😕 😢
And what about "urbanites"? 😬
David Sullivan4 said:Five personal rituals I swear by to turn a total disaster of a day into something actually decent.
Buying a record. There is a certain kind of lightning that only exists in a live recording—not just any recording, but one captured when a band is operating at the absolute peak of their powers. I’m talking about *The Who - Live at Leeds*. I was sitting in my study the other night, nursing a drink and listening to the opening swells of "Heaven and Hell," and it hit me all over again. It isn't just "good" music; it’s a visceral, almost violent experience. You can practically smell the stale beer and cigarette smoke wafting off the speakers. Most modern live albums feel like they were polished in a sterile studio until every ounce of grit was sucked out, leaving nothing but a hollow, digital shell. But this? This is raw. It’s messy. It’s glorious. Townshend’s guitar work on tracks like "Summers of '68" isn't just playing notes; it’s an assault. And don't even get me started on Keith Moon. There are people out there today who think being a drummer is about keeping a perfect, metronomic beat—God, they couldn't be more wrong. Moon wasn't just keeping time; he was leading a charge, a chaotic, brilliant percussionist who seemed to be playing three different songs at once, yet somehow, through some divine madness, it all locked together. It reminds me of a concert I saw back in Chicago years ago—a small, sweaty club where the energy felt like it could actually ignite the air. That sense of danger, that feeling that anything could happen at any second, is exactly what makes *Live at Leeds* a masterpiece. If you haven't sat down, turned off your phone, and let this record tear through your soul, you aren't really listening to rock and roll. You're just hearing noise.
There it is... And what exactly did I say? 😁
Kevin Chavez3 said:but I can stop if necessary
Don't you dare! You're just causing chaos and leaving everyone else completely disoriented! 😬
The absolute number one question you'll see in some random trivia night quiz:
What's The biggest threat to outdoor Sex?
* Passerbys
* Cops
* bug bites
* Sand * Animals
* Animals
* Other
👋 👋
stormyviper11 said:Bonus: In Alan Ford, specifically that scene where the lawyer deals with the Die Rich Uncle situation during Bob Rock's trial. And honestly, that bit about the unattractive women at the party in that same issue isn't far off either.
That specific sequence really owes its existence to the incredible wit and sheer comedic genius of the late Brixy... 🙏
Linda Gray51 said:Is there an inverse version? 😬
:2up:
Don't go blaming anyone else for the fact that you're running a glorified space heater instead of an actual computer... 😬
Nicholas Perez33 said:My brain is essentially just a junk drawer for useless trivia. I can recite the stats of every player on the 1996 Chicago Bulls roster without blinking, yet I can’t remember where I left my car keys half the time. It’s frustrating—I feel like I’ll never reach that level of pure, elemental genius. 🙏 Good grief, give me a break. 😁
Well, let's see... how did they put it? Am, D, G, E? 🙂
Edward Grant63 said:misliš ovaj: 
Exactly. 😁
Poughkeepsie :) said:The fastest way to get over someone? Honestly, there isn't one—not if you’re looking for a "magic pill" solution that doesn't leave you feeling like a hollowed-out shell of a human being. People always come to me asking for this shortcut, as if I have some secret formula to just flip a switch and turn off the dopamine loop in my brain. It doesn't work like that. You can't just "delete" a person from your psyche like you're clearing your browser cache on a MacBook. If you want my two cents—and I say this with all the patience I can muster—it starts with radical, aggressive distance. I’m talking about more than just "unfollowing" them on Instagram. It’s about a total digital blackout. If you’re still checking their LinkedIn to see if they got that promotion at Goldman Sachs, or lurking on their Spotify to see if they're listening to that indie band you both loved, you aren't moving on; you're just picking at a scab. I remember back when I went through my own mess a few years ago—I thought I could handle being "just friends" with an ex while living in the same neighborhood. Big mistake. Huge. Every time I saw their car parked near a Starbucks, my heart would do this pathetic little stutter. I had to cut ties completely to find my footing again. The real work is internal. You have to stop romanticizing the highlights reel. We all do it—we sit there in the dark, obsessing over the three perfect months we spent together, while conveniently forgetting the month they were incredibly selfish or how much they drove us crazy. You need to be brutally honest about why it ended. It sounds cold, I know, but you have to strip away the nostalgia to see the reality. It’s a slow, grinding process. There are no shortcuts, no "life hacks," and certainly no quick fixes. You just have to endure the discomfort until, one day, you realize you haven't thought about them for an entire afternoon. That's when you know you've actually made progress.
Winter, snow, ice—everything is just a giant sheet of glass out there. We were walking side by side, minding our own business, when suddenly my feet went right out from under me. I slip, expecting him to catch me or at least grab my arm—but instead? He just steps clear away to keep his own balance! Unbelievable.
The very first time I stepped foot in his room, he didn't even wait to settle in—he just started thrusting photos of his exes in lingerie right in my face for absolutely no reason at all.
I’d been spotting him around town for ages—just watching from a distance—so when we finally actually met face-to-face, I was prepared for anything. But nothing could have braced me for that handshake. He reached out and gave me the most pathetic, slimy, weak-as-water grip I have ever experienced in my entire life. Honestly? It was an instant repellent. I knew right then and there that I needed to get as far away from him as possible.
You’re repeating yourself. ☕
Nicholas Perez33 said:So, where on earth is that guy with the piercing? 😁
See? I told you so. ☕
Nicholas Perez33 said:There was a similar list floating around a while back—I can almost picture it—but all I can actually recall is that top spot. It’s been stuck in my head ever since; no matter how much time passes, that number one position just refuses to fade from my mind. 😁 And then there was this one guy—some random dude at a roadside diner somewhere outside of Austin—who actually had the nerve to start lecturing me about getting a piercing. Honestly, I don't even know where he was coming from. It’s always the same story: someone who thinks they have some profound moral authority over your own body starts chirping away like they’re some kind of expert on personal aesthetics. Just because you're sitting in a booth sharing a cup of coffee doesn't mean you've earned the right to weigh in on my life choices. It was one of those interactions that just leaves you staring at your plate, wondering how people manage to be so incredibly intrusive in such mundane settings.
elephant memory Quote 👍
Poughkeepsie :) said:Honestly, I can’t even believe how much better your elephant memory Quote is than mine—you actually managed to recall exactly what I wrote better than I could myself. 🙏 I’ve been feeling absolutely scattered lately—just completely out of sorts—to be honest.
I suppose we could call this an updated list, then. Honestly, that whole situation with the handling—it absolutely deserved its own dedicated thread.
(I was actually digging through my old posts just now when I stumbled upon yours—the one where you argue that no sane person should ever be caught dead using Internet Explorer... what an incredible coincidence.) 😁 )
Remember, remember—just purely by coincidence, of course. Or is it a setup? A trap?
I’d honestly love to drop an emoji right here—the one where I’m giving Firefox a massive hug while simultaneously giving Exploder a firm kick to the teeth—but unfortunately, that specific little guy doesn't exist in my keyboard repertoire.
The #1 funniest comic strips I've come across in the last hour:
I find myself once again spiraling down memory lane—though, quite frankly, it’s a bit of a descent into madness—thinking about Jet Set Willy. It’s one of those titles that stays lodged in your brain, isn't it? A beautiful, frustrating, absolute nightmare of a game. I remember sitting in front of the screen back in the day, convinced I had the patterns mastered, only to be absolutely humiliated by a single misplaced pixel or a jump that felt just a hair too short. It’s maddening! There was something about that specific era of gaming—that raw, unpolished, "figure it out or die" attitude—that you just don't see anymore. Nowadays, everything is so sanitized, so heavily guided by tutorials and checkpoints that feel like they're holding your hand through a nursery. Back then? You were on your own. If you messed up a sequence in Jet Set Willy, you didn't just lose progress; you lost your mind. I recall one specific afternoon—I think I was probably drinking far too much coffee at the time—where I spent three straight hours trying to navigate a single screen, only to get knocked into a pit by a sprite moving at a speed that seemed physically impossible. I nearly threw the controller across the room! It wasn't just the difficulty, though; it was the sheer, stubborn charm of it. The music, the frantic energy, the way it demanded total, undivided attention. It’s a relic of a time when games weren't just entertainment, but tests of pure, unadulterated willpower. Even now, looking back, I can still feel that familiar spike of adrenaline—and irritation—just thinking about it.
I find myself circling back to Manic Miner again—though, honestly, I’ve always felt that Jet Set Willy captured that specific era of gaming more effectively. There is something about the sheer, unadulterated difficulty of those early platformers that sticks in the back of your mind. You spend hours memorizing pixel-perfect jumps, only to be undone by a single misplaced input or a sprite you didn't see coming. It’s frustrating, yes, but there’s a certain disciplined rigor required to master it—a quality I think is sorely lacking in today's hand-holding, tutorial-heavy landscape. Back then, you either figured it out or you moved on. No safety nets, no "easy modes." Just you, the controller, and a mounting sense of disbelief at how hard a collection of colored pixels could actually be.
Lemmings
Tetris
Tetris
X-wing
I’ve been revisiting some old flight sims lately—trying to recapture that specific feeling of sitting in front of a CRT monitor back in the day—and I found myself pulling up TIE Fighter again. It really makes you wonder about the current state of the genre, doesn't it? Back then, there was a level of tactile, unforgiving precision that felt almost visceral. You weren't just clicking icons on a menu; you were actually wrestling with the physics of the craft. Even when you compare it to something like Microsoft Flight Simulator, which is a technical marvel of modern computing, the soul of that old-school dogfighting experience feels fundamentally different. One is an exercise in pure simulation, while the other is a high-stakes dance of survival. It’s funny—I remember sitting in my basement in Chicago, staying up way too late, trying to master those specific maneuvers without getting shredded by an X-wing. There was a steep learning curve, sure, but once it clicked, it was pure magic. Nowadays, everything feels so sanitized, so "user-friendly" that you lose that sense of genuine achievement. You don't get that rush anymore when you finally nail a difficult run because the game is practically holding your hand through every turn. We used to have to earn our wings.
Blue Max
IL-2 Sturmovik
Microsoft Flight Simulator
The order doesn't matter. 🙂
Dana Anderson4 said:😱
I used to be a total coffee addict—but this morning, I just had one strong cup of black coffee to wake me up, and honestly, that’s about it...
So what, you're freaking out now, princess? All I get from a cup of black coffee is gas, and those shakes... sometimes they hit just right, other times they're a total disaster.
Kevin Chavez3 said:Little Jesus, damn it, when the coffee hits the filter 🙂
Oh sure, and little bunnies drop dead too. I know, I read it in a scientific journal. 😬
😬Just my two cents.