I turned 44 just the other day; honestly, without a doubt I’d have taken the pill the day before my 21st birthday. One big do-over and minimal responsibilities to manage after the de-aging.
✔️ Someone taking care of me 24/7 for a period measured in years?
✔️ School? What a joke. Ace everything, be a social and intellectual prodigy?
✔️ No bills, no responsibilities?
✔️ Boundless energy and Wolverine-like healing?
✔️ One set of friends in their 40s with life and professional advice/connections for you as you turn 21; and another set of friends your own age bursting with enthusiasm, ideas, and a gleam in their eye?
Like, I’m not seeing a downside to this over here…
White glue and baking soda, you may need a decent amount to spread around. If you glue down some cotton balls below, you can simulate little mounds of snow when you spread the glue+baking soda mix on top
It’s basically tiny styrofoam balls that stick together, I think it’s mostly static electricity holding it together. Once you open the package, and start manipulating the biodiversity hazard, it leaves little pieces of itself everywhere.
Much like herpes, and just as welcome. In my case, Satan was feeling extra cute so there was glitter mixed into the packaged santorum.
It’s now day 6 after opening and I guarantee I’ll find little purple and pink assholes around my house
Man, just that word brings back memories of Hardees. Along with the usual red and yellow sauces, they had a third sauce…a white one. Me, thinking it was mayo, loaded up two of those little white paper cups and sat down with my burger and curly fries.
I should preface by mentioning that I love me some crispy curly fries with gobs of mayo…took one massive dip followed by an expectant bite and I’m like 90% positive that my face showed the entire range of reactions starting from “yo, wtf is in my mouth?”, moving along to “this is NOT mayo!”, detouring briefly to “what kind of sadist fucks with the mayo container”, reaching “what is this spicy orgy in my mouth?!”, and shortly after landing on a new all time favourite dipping sauce.
A towel, [The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy] says, is about the most massively useful thing an interstellar hitchhiker can have. Partly it has great practical value. You can wrap it around you for warmth as you bound across the cold moons of Jaglan Beta; you can lie on it on the brilliant marble-sanded beaches of Santraginus V, inhaling the heady sea vapors; you can sleep under it beneath the stars which shine so redly on the desert world of Kakrafoon; use it to sail a miniraft down the slow heavy River Moth; wet it for use in hand-to-hand-combat; wrap it round your head to ward off noxious fumes or avoid the gaze of the Ravenous Bugblatter Beast of Traal (such a mind-boggingly stupid animal, it assumes that if you can’t see it, it can’t see you); you can wave your towel in emergencies as a distress signal, and of course dry yourself off with it if it still seems to be clean enough.
Traveling with a towel in my carryon bag has saved my ass more than a couple of times. It’s a towel, it’s a pillow, it’s a small blanket, it’s a privacy shield, it’s a surface to sling your fake watches to passerbys and earn enough for your return flight home.
Want to freshen up prior to landing or during a connection at an airport? That towel will get you dry after washing up, brushing your teeth, etc. No silly paper towel, or Dyson hand dryer nonsense.