I think that’s open to interpretation. The art craze was entirely self validated, with some heavy hitters determined to see that AI art never lives past 3. Not literally of course. Furthermore, its not yet publicly know what the training data consists of. I think it will prove AI art is merely a glorified collage machine.
Radio Shack doesn’t exist, so it isn’t American. And I’ve been in European houses that absolutely have gypsum on their walls, which is what drywall is made from.
Did you see my link? It absolutely was not primarily an American thing. It just wasn’t a European thing. So it does, in fact, sound like you think only what is in Europe matters.
I’ll repeat to you once again that this isn’t an argument and especially not about what matters or not, as I’ve never stated no other country matters. I’ve even lived in a country where “RadioShack” operated, but once again RadioShack as a name is American which is shown in your own link.
I haven’t called you wrong or have said that one country matters more than the other, all I’ve said is that drywall is a silly argument in a case like this especially since it didn’t have anything to do with the wall in the first place.
I do agree my first reply is a bit foul, but I’ve just been kind of sad about comments and posts that don’t specify country.
I’ve never said it wasn’t used in Europe, just that I haven’t seen it. Where I’m from we quite literally just call it Gypsum, you need to read what I’m literally saying and not derive off of it.
Copper wire can be found in excess in a lot of access panels and such, like the other commenter said.
I see… so drywall is an American thing because they call it gypsum where you live and Radio Shack is an American thing because it wasn’t in Europe. You’re right, I was only talking about American things.
Drywall is an American thing because it is only popular there, in other countries it is reserved for certain cheaper constructions and quite rare.
Is this based on “what you have seen?”
Radio Shack as the name wasn’t a thing in Europe, Tandy and others were.
Yes, we’ve already established that, according to you, “not a thing in Europe but a thing in other countries including America” makes something an “American thing.”
You don’t always have the luxury of time though. I work in entertainment, and I’ve definitely scrapped adapters together in a pinch. When you have a show starting in 15 minutes and a musician rolls up with some bespoke gear with weird connections, your only real choice is to bodge something together and make it work.
Nothing quite like seeing five adapters chained together, to go from stereo RCA to TRS 1/8” to TRS 1/4” to dual TS 1/4”, to XLR… All because you didn’t have a direct box that went straight from RCA to XLR, because another musician walked off with it after their show wrapped up at 2AM last night.
I once had the flu so badly I couldn’t get out of bed or yell for help. My parents put on “Flushed Away” (movie about some fuckin rats) on dvd and it looped at least 4 times before anyone came back to turn it off. One of my core traumas
I lucked out because I was left with a movie like this but VHS tapes have to be rewound once they are over and we didn’t have any of those fancy fucking auto rewinders, that was rich folk stuff
I had the same issue with Barney. I got the chicken pox at 16. The older you are, the sicker chicken pox tends to make you. I was super sick, to where I was hallucinating at one point.
A couple of days in, I probably should have been at the hospital, so of course my mom was leaving me at home by myself to go to work. She turned the TV on and just left without checking the channel. It was PBS and some sort of Barney programming block was on. Hours of Barney. Hours. The TV’s remote was long broken and I was too sick to walk, so I just watched that singing, dancing purple fuck.
On the bright side, I can do a great Barney impression. I sometimes do it randomly when I tell my wife I love her.
I used to be a big fan of Eevee and the eeveeloutions so I looked them up on DeviantArt and saw fetish art of a Flareon getting its toes tickled by a torture device. I didn’t know what fetishes were at the time and assumed it was a silly joke about how painful it is to get tickled. (I was very ticklish as a child.)
Settle down, chairman moe! But, just to nitpick, what he says sounds a lot more like "immigants" to me. Which when I originally saw the scene, was the icing on the cake.
Infinite poop. You sit on the toilet to poop, but the poop never stops coming out of your butt. You have to start flushing the toilet every two minutes to keep up. You try to pinch your butt closed but that makes your insides hurt. The poop accelerates. You call 911. The paramedics call for doctors. The doctors call for specialists. The story trends on Twitter. You turn down talk show appearances. Your septic tank fails. People form a cult. Your toilet is finished. Volunteers arrive with buckets and shovels. You are completely used to the smell. The poop accelerates. You are moved to a stepladder with a hole in the top step. The poop accelerates. The shovelers abandon the buckets and shovel directly out the window. The poop accelerates. A candlelight vigil forms around your house. One of the workers falls over and can’t free himself. The poop accelerates. A priest knocks over the stepladder and tackles you out the window. You land in the pile. The poop accelerates. The force now propels you forward and upward. Vigil goers grab at your legs. The poop ignites from their candles. The Facebook live event hits 1 million viewers. The poop accelerates. You are 30 feet in the air. The fire engulfs the vigil and your house. 60 feet. The poop accelerates. The torrent underneath you is deafening. 5 million Facebook live viewers. You try to close up shop but your butthole disintegrated long ago. 120 feet up. Your house explodes. The poop accelerates. 1000 feet. You are now tracked on radar. You try to change your angle of ascent but you should have thought of that way earlier. The poop accelerates. 4,000 feet. NORAD upgrades to DEFCON 3. Concentric circles of fire engulf your city. The poop accelerates. You have broken the sound barrier. 30,000 feet. You no longer take in enough oxygen to sustain consciousness. 60,000 feet. CNN is reporting on all the world records you’ve broken. 200,000 feet. You are no longer alive. The poop accelerates. Your body disintegrates but your poop contrail remains. NASA can no longer track you. You break the light-speed barrier and we can no longer bear witness. The poop accelerates. Forever.
Luckily Soviet Russia is gone (for now 🤔) and they seem to let go more easily if you don’t commit some really atrocious crime like spreading stickers in the shop, posting online, or standing on the streets with a Constitution quotes. If you took some millions and ran away, just be diligent and spare some of the money and they couldn’t care less.
This may not reflect the real state of affairs but is a good approximation
Yeah, I know just wanted to be a bit of bummer. TBF Soviet Russia seem to be good for memes or sci-fi but not much else, anyway. Appreciate you being helpful and explaining, though.
this is my porn origin story, found a crusty old magazine in a sandrock lean-to that was clearly a person’s hidey hole. we buried it in shame after it seared into our memories
How common was this? That was precisely how I discovered porn. Found a Hustler magazine on a trail I used as a shortcut between housing developments on my paper route when I was 11. Then found a whole stash of them in another part of the woods near a tree fort I built with some friends.
I remember you had to pick and choose what images you wanted because of how long it took to download. Thumbnails were critical and nothing more of a cock block then the image getting corrupted part way through.
When I lived in L.A., weed was legal but only for medical and I didn’t have a card. I also wasn’t all that experienced with the strength of cannabis in California compared to Indiana where I grew up. So I was going to fly back home for a visit and my friend offered to give me an edible for the trip. I asked him to get me the strongest one because I thought, “what the hell.”
All I could say to my wife once I ate it was, “I’m so high.” And then I was on my own because I was flying by myself.
Flying by yourself next to a stranger for six hours crammed into a little airplane seat high off your ass is a very bad idea and I do not recommend it.
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