Depends on how crazy security is. I've seen it done with a CamelBak, dark fabric, and a decoy water pouch. Then again I've also seen a guy that brought so much beer through security that he built a little pyramid of cans on the seat in front of him.

This, but tactile.

I hate them for the same reason I hate Chick-Fil-A: they can't fucking spell and their mascots bother me on a fundamental level. Every other awful thing is just confirmation that I've made the right decision.

Borrow implies that he'll return a cup of his own goo later.

There’s the added fact that I do like video games, and watching youtube a lot on things I like. The image of an adult at home engaging in these things looks really bad to some people.

I'm in my 40s. My wife is in her 40s. We have a kid. We're paying off a mortgage on a house. Last night, I played Mina the Hollower on my laptop and my wife watched youtube videos. Don't feel bad about that stuff. They're generational interests, not a symbol of immaturity. Nursing homes are gonna have gameboys and true crime hour in the lunch room in a few decades.

Muy cousins, aunts, and uncles are all well-to-do. They own businesses. Multiple properties. Huge cirlces of friends. Maybe not all of them, but there is a lot of money in my extended family. And then theres me. I won’t be anything most people would consider special. I’m just here until I’m not here.

And you only see what's happening on the outside. I can mostly pass in the real world. I don't live with my parents because home life was awful growing up. It's a long story, but I started college early so I could get away from it. I had a nervous breakdown my senior year. I joined the workforce before I could drink and had no social skills. It was hell.

Everything I am now came from those years, and from doing everything every wrong way first. I'm finally starting to untangle the massive amount of trauma my parents inflicted on me, and the massive amount of trauma I inflicted on myself to get away from them. I'm autistic, I have ADHD, and I spent decades feeling like a weirdo and a moron. I've got a decent life now and a therapist, but in hindsight I wish I'd done things differently.

So the next time someone makes you feel bad about your life, think about this: I did everything I was supposed to do and life was unbearable. You've got stable housing, you're contributing to the family, and you have hobbies.

I don’t want much in life. I don’t want a lot of money. I tend to reject the hustle and bustle. I just want to know I was the best person I could be with what I had available.

At the end of the day, that's all anyone can be. You sound like a good person and you sound like you have a good life. Don't let other people tell you otherwise.

Dan Brown writing men: "He had steely grey eyes and was very smart. Scientists thought he was an idiot but that's because he was smarter than them and didn't spend as much time writing papers. He did four hundred pushups and took a shower. 'Not bad for a fifty five year-old guy', he thought, which was smarter than other thoughts even if those thoughts had won prizes."

During the pandemic, our CEO did a company-wide meeting and told us to reach out to extroverts because they were really suffering. And yeah I get that but can't the extroverts just reach out to each other and save everyone else the hassle? I mean that's already kind of their schtick.

I spend half my week fixing his AI slop that he genuinely thinks is gold.

God I hate this. The sheer number of times I've heard "and I didn't even write a line of code" and I have to bite back the "yeah, I can fuckin' tell."

My wife and I bought a TV on the internet. What brand? I have no idea but it's the type they have in waiting rooms and restaurants. Zero internet. Zero apps. You push the button and it turns on. It's the best fucking purchase we've made in the last five years.

Word salad is your friend. The bigger the context of the prompt, the more it has to thrash. So if you ask it for a longform essay about elephants in the blue diamond-shaped trifold organza station wagon and the quality of fudge it can expectorate in the style of an old timey sea captain who just dropped his iPhone over the starboard bow, it has to pull in more data. And then tell it that whatever it did was awful and nonsensical and it should redo it.

Alternately, ask for a list of one thousand random numbers, with no repetition, between one and a million. Whatever it does, tell it it's wrong and duplicated numbers and/or gave you too few. Repeat.

They bought into the luxury of the Trump name and what it represents a long time ago.

You're right, but I still don't understand this. I grew up watching Trump drama in tabloids and rolling my eyes at Trump-branded products and I grew up fundie, rightwing, and abusively sheltered. He was always just the weird looking guy with bad hair and I never understood why people cared so much.

Motherfuckers going around talking about mistakes like they spontaneously generate from old rags and bags of flour.

I just looked at his picture and that was enough.

Either that or it really has to go to the bathroom now.

Reading Shakespeare is torture. That is why we make actors do it for us.

Pssst. It's the Claude logo.

It's flashy, does just enough to look impressive, and a lot of people throw money at it. Just like them.

Complements and praise does nothing for me emotionally, so I just say “thank you”; in the same way you thank a kid that handed you a rock they found on the ground.

That's exactly how you do it, according to John Cleese, anyway.

I'm always deeply suspicious of compliments because they're sometimes used to manipulate me, especially if it's from strangers or people I only know superficially. But a brief "thank you, that means a lot" + an internal recalibration to find out what the fuck this person actually wants from me is what I usually do.

This reads like someone who has read everything William Gibson ever wrote without understanding that it was all making fun of people like him.

A bag of locally roasted coffee is $12 and lasts me two weeks. It used to be $9, before the orange shithead but let's ignore that. A pot of coffee takes about as long as it takes for water to boil. I'm clearly not the target demographic, but still. Nine fucking dollars for a cup?