@ATVIAssist so I've recently bought a new computer off some dude online. Everything working except when I tried to play Call of Duty apparently I've been hardware banned. I haven't played cod in over a year so it's definitely not me. I appealed it but says it's final. What now?
I'm continuing to follow this guy and his fitpics everyday. It's totally fascinating. Extremely entertaining. And he seems so completely indifferent with the comments directed at him. They seem like farts in the wind to him... But it is a reminder that Reddit is fucking weird.
Internet documentary:
I feel like my recent adventure on Reddit has to be documented somewhere.
Context: r/streetwear is a subreddit of 3.8million people who post their outfits or discuss trends.
There is one guy who posts almost every day a very similar outfit:
The picture speaks for itself really. So... I don't know what to think or feel. I guess there isn't anything WRONG with this but... I feel a bit icky now. I didn't need to know that. Now my upvotes feel a bit... stained, for lack of a better word.
HELENA BONHAM CARTER stars in this groundbreaking Cinema Quarantino Production DAS FONE HELL. At vast expense, filmed on two continents over what (seemed like) five years , this profound and heartbreakingly candid insight into Modern Life will shake you to the core (Pilates 101)
I think people are socially rusty. Everyone I talk to today at work has started the conversation at the wrong volume. Me included. Like how loud do I need it be in this large room with just one other person? Maybe I am shouting. Now I am whispering. Serious connection issues here
Is it lunchtime yet?
Maybe I'll have Nutella.
Who am I kidding?
A haiku about my difficult lunchtime choices. Mostly revolving around the "when" and the "what".
Can't find the remote.
TV going on standby.
Panic mode confirmed.
Another haiku by me, George Goldie, about the perils of consuming visual entertainment for so long that you end up being swallowed and gummed by your own sofa. The betrayal...
I can't butter bread.
I don't much like wooden spoons.
And I can't break eggs.
A haiku about a very moderately mal-adjusted 26 year old's adventures in the kitchen.