Cazadors are worse than deathclaws and I will die on that hill. In fact I did in that hill outside of Goodsprings more often than I care to count because those fuckers keep killing you even after they’re dead.
I never understood this. In my dreams phones, tablets, and clocks all work. Like last night I pulled up a world map and zoomed in on Europe on a tablet, and not only did my brain fill in all the countries and even major cities (totally incorrectly as I’m in the US and not that familiar with European geography), but the website even had pop up ads that I needed to close out of to view the map without distractions. I could also Google where vikings originated and pull up a totally normal appearing Wikipedia page. Tech always works just fine in my dreams
I lived in Southern California in the early nineties on very little money. The only real “hardship” was that I needed a co-signer to rent an apartment until I was about twenty five.
Other than that, it’s not like I was living in luxury, and I certainly could not have bought a house, but it was comfortably doable on slightly more than minimum wage. (And several of my classmates did buy houses in southern California on starting salaries while still in their twenties)
I make roughly seven times more money now, and feel like I wouldn’t be able to afford a two bedroom apartment anywhere in California.
It wasn’t harder then. At least not for me.
But we did have a way better music environment. Like a lot better. I can say this because I spent the 2010s taking my daughter to hundreds of shows at every size and style of venue imaginable. It was a lot of fun. It was our thing. But it didn’t compare to the vibe back in my time. Everything got gentrified. Even the “dive” venues felt suburban.
Entertainment in general has gotten a whole lot greedier while providing a whole lot less.
<span style="color:#323232;">Was that my Father that went hence so fast?
</span><span style="color:#323232;">Ben. It was: what sadnes lengthens Romeo's houres?
</span><span style="color:#323232;">Ro. Not hauing that, which hauing, makes them short
</span><span style="color:#323232;">Ben. In loue.
</span><span style="color:#323232;">Romeo. Out.
</span><span style="color:#323232;">Ben. Of loue.
</span><span style="color:#323232;">Rom. Out of her fauour where I am in loue.
</span><span style="color:#323232;">Ben. Alas that loue so gentle in his view,
</span>
It was both case and position: for uppercase you’d use ⟨V⟩, for initial lowercase ⟨v⟩, else ⟨u⟩. For example, check “view” in the last line of the excerpt.
Be the Grinch. Get ostracized by looking different. Slowly get shunned from your community and froze out. Be ignored. Everyone hates you for no reason.
They rub it in your face by being as loud and noisy as possible. You tried to get away but they still flaunt it in your face. Only your best doggo understands and loves you still.
You go down and try to stop it and take their shit. Next day, they’re still singing their fucking songs. You give them their shit back and NOW they like you.
Lesson: Nobody will like you until it looks like you did something good. Even if it was just a problem you made and you fixed but nothing actually changes.
Millennials are split into the older and the younger ones. I am one of the older ones, and I don’t know what the heck is going on with the younger ones.
Anna Garvey has described these individuals as having "both a healthy portion of Gen X grunge cynicism, and a dash of the unbridled optimism of Millennials"
Might as well. GenX is trying to keep a roof over its brainwashed parents’ heads while its own kids rack up student loan debt. What difference would one more mouth make?
As a younger one, we grew up with social media becoming available to us right at the worst age. Like seriously imagine if you and your parents were allowed on Facebook right as you hit puberty and nobody understood what it could do to you.
That and also growing up not remembering 9/11 but remembering adults mocking al gore for caring if we all die of ecocide.
We’re basically the prototype for gen z. You merely adopted hopelessness. We were born into it, molded by it, we didn’t see a chance until we were adults.
I hate to break it to you, but memory of 9/11 is kind of a litmus test for the Millennial/Gen Z border. If you don’t remember it you’re likely Gen Z or right on the border where generational definitions get really fuzzy.
Well that still puts you pretty safely in the range, actually. The typical cutoff year is 1996. I’m 30. You were 7 (or almost 7) but you don’t remember 9/11?
In Taiwan they color the doors or just put a man/woman sign on the door. They will still use mandarin but it’s easy for people like me to figure it out.
They also get bonus points for being extremely handicapped friendly with their bathrooms. Better than a lot of places I’ve used in the US as far as privacy and accessibility are concerned.
They also label the outside stall doors with western and eastern style toilet signs so you can pick the one you want without peeking into every stall like a weirdo.
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