I love the tired droopy eyes that comes from decades of staring at bad code.

Not good code, never good code. Good code you glance at once and it makes your heart sing.

No, bad code keeps you up at night, staring into the void between the whitespace until you can make out the subpixel colouring of your own sad reflection gazing recursively in upon itself broken only by the jagged stack limit threshold of the hateful morning sun casting a bad enough glare for you to hiss under the covers for a brief respite before you repeat the same process again.

well when a mommy asymptote and a daddy asymptote meet on opposite ends of an infinite grid, they give birth to a finite area that is carefully and lovingly defined, until the mommy asymptote runs away with a thick veiny fat curve that rules her world, and the daddy asymptote just stands there night-after-night watching them bisect each other

I still get the shakes

I wish door to door fireworks salesman were more common

Sounds like there were a lot of fights growing up but now they’re at somewhat peace with one another

I usually dont engage directly with my thoughts unless I am talking to myself out loud which I often do.

I think mostly on instinct, and rationalise/summarize my actions only if I have to.

It’s a bit like waking up at night in a pitch black room and making your way to the toilet. You barely remember it the next morning, but if someone asks you about it you say “oh yeah maybe” and retrieve/fabricate a memory of you navigating around furniture in the dark (because you MUST have), but can’t actually recall it.

That’s a lot! Props to you for keeping your sanity.

Can I ask what your cultural background is? Mormon? Indian? Catholic? South-east asian?

Last night I was watching a film and felt a pair of eyes on me.

But they weren’t on me, they were on the TV, and me and this little guy watched Deadpool together

16-24 slices per loaf, I have eaten on average 1.39‰ six dozen loaves today

He also wrote the theme song for Pringles crisps. This may not be true.

how many kids do you have?

she knows what she did.

She’s right there! Why can’t she do it. Classic mom power move.

That kid’s gonna grow up to smoke pot

It’s the artist’s actual name

Imran
Okradi

Do you have a swap partition mounted?

I love that little “woo^ooo” at the end there

You gotta give body cues; turn away slightly, start to walk adjacent, nod non-commitally, and then wave farewell

Shark-zula, the mic rulah
The old schoolah, you wanna hunt?
I’ll bring it to ya (raw)

that sun function is a bastard

If you think my comment was vacuous, you should see the ones that replied to it