I had long hair during the TNG days, and somewhere in my childhood home, there’s a bathroom drawer or cabinet full of the same kind they used for Geordi’s visor, and similarly painful plastic headbands. I know there’s also a Polaroid or two somewhere of me and a cousin holding them up to our faces, running around saving the Enterprise that was the basement. If I’d only known to bring them around me throughout life, for that nostalgia hit…

I was reminded

Memes you can hear…

It’s probably a term used elsewhere too, but in the US Navy, when it’s coming from both ends, especially stationed or deployed on ship, it’s the double dragon. Ship food is bad. Ship food is rejected prison food. Moldy. Horrible. Absolute garbage. Garbage would probably be safer.

Only Honk.

Or

“There are no genders. Only Honk.”

Make a new website, and/or make a new HonkBusters.

Alternatively: “Where we’re going, we won’t need genders to honk…”

If the passion for his photography wasn’t hot enough, already, the wingtips make it a thousand times better…

Who’s easily confused with Stretch “Bicycle” Aldrin! Those silly astronauts.

Oh, holy hell, I just uncontrollably giggled at that for so long, my chest hurts. I sent it to my only group of friends, and it looks even better in smaller thumbnail form. Good gracious.

And the GameCube of Reanimation never would have been found without Dr. Nicholas Ballard. Thank Chac, Nick left behind extensive research notes, before he went missing, after being checked out of his mental institution, by the military…

Hah! Billy Eichner’esque Craig outbursts about nonsense are definitely more my thing, when I’m not quietly nonstop mumbling about something, but we both definitely have “I don’t understand my sound volume” energy. Periodically, “I don’t care about about how loud I am, the world is on fire” energy.

Is this my husband’s speaking voice? 🫴🦋

Rich Evans, man. Sexy, talented, honey-voiced genius.

If nose candy is making you feel like that, you may be snorting literal Pixy Stix… ◕_◕

Lol, I’ve been checked out many times. I have Celiac and IBD, plus bouts of pancreatitis (which especially makes fried foods icky to digest) - minus the teeny amount of protein, it’s pretty much all ingredients that upset my insides and beyond. Had two abdominal surgeries, which have improved the hell out of the above, but a stupid rare genetic disorder makes all the above chronic, regardless. Plus, I’m an idiot! :D And already befevered and sick with who knows what, so delicious mild self-torture doesn’t really add much, right now.

Lordy, I finally gotta say it lol, @ ickplant, sometimes by proxy of your posts, I think you might be related to my soul. <3

I literally told my spouse yesterday that all the creatures on my shoulders must be devils, when I said to order like, 6 things of takoyaki, even though I can’t really properly digest a single one of their ingredients, but they’re so good, I don’t care about the pain oh gods yes I do today

I’ve also yet to be hit with a piss jar! Hooray! Some interesting jars, from the years when I was still tempted to open them, was a shreik that shattered just about everything fragile in a 50 foot radius, including my ear drums (still dealing with that tinnitus), and another jar spilled out some sort of abomination spider-crabs, which ate all our food and vomited it right back up quicker than our reaction time, whilst chanting something about hating their mother. I’d kill for some lemons, though, the stores have been out of stock of decent citrus.

I’ve really enjoyed having our bad feelings singularity. I’ve been mercilessly unhappy for so long, it fits right in with our style, and having it stare back makes me feel less alone, without the intrusion of another person. It’s ominous hum is great for sleeping, too, automatic blackhole noise machine!

I suggest burying them in the ground! That’s what we did with all the jars that kept hitting me, when we ran out of room in the house - it didn’t help me being hit in the face with newly appearing jars, but we haven’t had to do any lawn care in ages, on account of the backyard collapsing into an ominously humming black abyss. Plus, now we have somewhere to cleanly toss them, rather than precarious stacks to the guest room ceiling!

After growing up mostly in the Colorado mountains, and even later in the more suburban areas, but still near enough to the mountains, lynx and cougar calls are strange and loud as shit. They scared the jeebs out of child-me in the dark nothing. Cool as hell, though, once you know what they are. Loud ass kitties, echoing for miles.

I recommend pairing 30 to 40 olives with a glass of whiskey type alcohol. A common dinner of my late 20s, and now the snack/dinner of my aging 30s… You surely won’t regret it. …won’t regret it… …regret it… ◕_◕