10 intelligente deutsche Beleidigungen:
1.) „Ich habe weder die Zeit, noch die Buntstifte, um dir das zu erklären.“
2.) „Ich finde es total gut, dass du gedanklich schön schlicht hältst.“
3.) „Ich kann es nicht noch einfacher erklären, nur lauter.“
4.) „Es war mir eine Lehre, dich kennengelernt zu haben.“
5.) „Du schaust bei Glastüren auch immer durch das Schlüsselloch, oder?“
6.) „Hochverachtungsvoll…“
7.) „Es ist erfrischend zu sehen, dass deine Herangehensweise nicht durch Vorkenntnisse getrübt ist.“
8.) „Ich habe es gar nicht so böse gesagt, wie ich es gemeint habe.“
9.) „Du bist die personifizierte Manifestation kognitiver Dissonanz und ästhetischer Enttäuschung.“
10.) „Hatten deine Eltern schon vor der Hochzeit den selben Namen?“
Bitte, gern geschehen.
Ich helfe doch gern.
Something that might have slipped under your radar. Sir Gareth Southgate turned down any sort of media work and punditry during the World Cup to ensure that there were no distractions or ‘media troublemaking’ for Thomas Tuchel and the England team throughout the tournament. He put the team’s interests above his own, which is what we’ve all come to expect from this thoroughly decent human being.
However far we now go in the USA, never forget who laid the foundations - someone who even after his exit is doing all that he can to help.
Japanese actor Hiroyuki Sanada spoke about the contradictions of human nature:
“Some people dream of having a swimming pool at home, while those who have one hardly ever use it. Those who have lost a loved one feel a profound sense of loss, while others often complain about their living relatives. Those without a partner long for one, while those who have one often don't appreciate it. The hungry would give anything for a meal, while the satiated complain about the taste of their food. Those without a car dream of owning one, while those who have a car are always looking for a better one.”
The key to happiness is gratitude: truly seeing and appreciating what we already have, and understanding that somewhere, someone would give anything for what we take for granted.
A man took “cooling efficiency” to the next level.
He used a 3D-printed wall setup and redirected his AC so one unit cooled two rooms at once. Ingenious airflow hack through a simple hole in the wall.
The thing I miss the most about my grandfather is that anytime the phone rang, he would pick up and answer with “State your problem” instead of hello. Absolute legend
A Japanese cardiologist said one thing that stuck with me:
"80% of heart attacks start with a single morning mistake, and almost everyone makes it! "
This can save your life:🧵
Murphy's Law: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong.
Schrödinger's Cat: The cat is both dead and alive until we open the box.
Murphy's Cat: Any cat that jumps into a postal van will go feral and see out its days living with relatives in Preston.
Before Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness made them arena headliners, The Smashing Pumpkins were already stretching the boundaries of alternative rock. "Drown" was recorded for the 1992 Singles film soundtrack before later appearing on expanded editions of Gish, blending dreamy melodies with an extended psychedelic finale. This Pinkpop performance from 1994 captures the band in a period of rapid ascent, with their ambitious live sound setting them apart from their peers.
Dear SFA President Mike Mulraney, SFA Chief Executive Ian Maxwell and Steve Clarke
Cape Verde have embarrassed you lot during this World Cup.
Cape Verde showed you lot up to be as useless as we’ve always known.
The days of you lot trying to gaslight us into thinking we don’t have the players, or the quality, is over.
23 of the 24 players for Cape Verde play in Europe and only 1 plays with a top six club.
Pico Lopes, a central defender, is aged 34 and was found on LinkedIn selling houses.
Cape Verde proved that our squad of players were poorly coached and our mindset was so negative that it killed our best squad for a generation.
But that didn’t matter because we had Mr Alloa, sat at the top of the SFA tree, handing out 4 year deals.
You lot need to go. You’re not fit for purpose
#Scotland
On Saturday, after nearly a century, the long-wave transmitter at Droitwich fell silent, and the two old masts at Westerglen and Burghead with it. Most people won't have noticed. But something left the country on Saturday worth marking before it slips out of memory as well as off the air: the Shipping Forecast, in the form millions have grown up with, one of the primi among British institutions, read out on long wave to the fishing fleets and the insomniacs and anyone else still awake at the rim of the day.
If you've ever heard it, you know the odd power of the thing. "Viking, North Utsire, South Utsire, Forties, Cromarty" - a litany of sea areas most listeners will never lay eyes on, in a cadence that hasn't altered in generations, read with the calm of a voice that assumes you are out there somewhere in the dark and means to see you home. It carried far more than the weather. It was among the last things the whole of Britain still heard at the same hour: the same words, the same rhythm, meaning the same thing to a trawlerman off Rockall and a sleepless accountant in Surrey. A aesthetic paradigm of our culture; supreme utility and sublime superfluity. A country that now shares almost nothing in common still shared that.
And there's a stranger fact again, one that lifts the whole business clear of nostalgia. By long-standing account, the Royal Navy's nuclear-missile submarines, hidden somewhere beneath the Atlantic with the nation's last deterrent aboard, used Radio 4 on long wave as one of their signs of life from home. If the broadcasts kept coming, Britain was still there. If they ever stopped, and stayed stopped, the commander was to open the sealed letter the Prime Minister had written out by hand, and learn what his country wished of him in a world that no longer contained it. The same mild signal that told a fisherman the wind in Dogger was, by that account, a pulse the end of the world would have been measured against.
It is fitting, and bleak, that a broadcaster which has spent years forgetting who it was ever for should choose this, of all things, to switch off. The BBC never seems short of money for the things it wants to do. It decided the cost of the old signal was no longer worth bearing, and silenced the one transmission that asked nothing of anybody and reassured everybody. The fishermen, the old, the sleepless, the men under the sea - none of them were an audience it cared to keep.
The forecast itself survives in other forms, on other frequencies; this is not the end of it. But the signal that carried it for a hundred years, and the idea it quietly stood for - that a nation is a thing held together by small shared rituals, faithfully kept, that ask nothing and bind everyone - that has fallen silent, and it fell without a fight. We let these things go one at a time, each too small to defend on its own, until we glance up and find there is nothing left that we all still do together.
How many more will we let go?
How many more will you let go?