KirbyKhan posted:

Wash closet

graph posted:

https://twitter.com/neorsd/status/1520549997376413701

FMguru posted:

the fall of quark was the greatest and most delicious story of tech industry hubris until monster signed that deal with beats

FMguru posted:

monster was the biggest, nastiest bunch of litigious jerks in the entire tech industry

the patriarch who owns/runs monster was contacted by dre/iovine about working with them on a headphone product

patriarch puts failson in charge of the negotiations (its time he learned the family business after all)

failson goes down to los angeles and immediately gets sized up by dre and iovine as an easily-rolled rube

dre and iovine proceed to dazzle him with meetings with famous musicians and celebrities and parties and booze (and, it has been strongly implied, drugs and sex)

failson, with his head spinning, is too busy having a good time to pay close attention to the details of the deal he is negotiating. he has hit it off incredibly well with all these famous people, surely the deal his new best friends are mostly driving will be fine

the deal he negotiates and signs ends up being ruinous to monster. unbreakable, have to produce an uncapped number of headsets at a loss, they dont own any of the technology they developed for the headphones, they cant even compete with them

as soon as monster came into contact with the real sharks who run the music industry, they got effortlessly boned and filleted and devoured

Improbable Lobster posted:

i don't like the cartoons but i like that they're posted

CommieGIR posted:

Improbable Lobster posted:

rotor posted:

looks more chinese to me, with the curly clouds and such

Neco posted:

involuntary celeron

Jonny 290 posted:

whats the smell version of "turn your monitor on"

echinopsis posted:

I know doctors having atrocious handwriting is a cliche but I thought this one was especially good, especially the last line

KoRMaK posted:

https://i.imgur.com/keWDPgA.mp4

matti posted:

https://monocle.com/film/affairs/finns-of-thunder-bay/

Lake of Methane posted:

Achmed Jones posted:

holy poo poo i hadnt thought about that for a long time, but

Midjack posted:

well that's definitely a thing

blink polyfill posted:

lol i scanned and uploaded the shiiiit one, it was some stock photo from a business textbook i had in 2006. someone animated it later. it's always wild to see something i did be echoed for eternity

NoneMoreNegative posted:

>

SmokaDustbowl posted:

https://twitter.com/EvanKirstel/status/1532180850489573382

lmao owned

akadajet posted:

Why is this weirdo everywhere? lol

Ellie Trashcakes posted:

Like last night I got drunk and after playing William Tell with a spiderman piñata and a dildo I passed out eating a protein bar and when I woke up hung over I thought I pooped the bed for a second

So, yeah. I understand loneliness, Jonny

However!

Blackpilling yourself about it isn't doing yourself any favors. I've spent the last 11 years putting myself back together after my marriage collapsed and what passed for my mental health right along with it. I was 5150ed so many times I lost count. I overdosed on heroin three times, during one of which I stopped breathing entirely for a couple of minutes.

And I tried to protect myself from disappointment with this sort of doomsaying—hey, no expectations no letdown, right? But I wasn't protecting myself from, I was denying myself. I turned my life into a neverending psychospiritual No Nut November.

Speaking of hell, the last time I did acid it took a turn on me and I was absolutely convinced I had died and was being emotionally tortured in literal Hell. No pitchforks, no brimstone, no bees with teeth, just regret, paranoia and feeling like the biggest dipshit ever because I spent so much time killing myself at various speeds instead of, y'know, taking care of myself. I had my nose so closely pressed to the Doom Wall that I didn't see the—admittedly tall and slippery—ladder just to the left.

So after somewhere between 8 hours and a million years in literal Hell, I figured y'know what? gently caress it. They probably won't let me leave but they can't stop me trying. What the gently caress are they gonna do? Kill me? Torture me for all eternity? Already there. Nothing to lose.

And that's when I figured out that if you don't like being in hell, you can just leave. And when the demons demand to know where you're going you can flip them the bird with one hand while pulling your pants down for a nice semi-moon and say "to gently caress your mom"

Of course when you're no longer absolutely hosed out of your head you call the demon, apologize, and explain yourself, but I'm sure you get the drift here.

Feeling like poo poo isn't a choice, god knows. I feel like poo poo all the time. I feel like there's this arbitrary and finite opportunities for happiness and I've blown all of them and no one is ever going to love me ever again. I've had some major lapses into some really terrible coping behaviors within the past couple of months.

It's a lot of work to stay positive and hopefully and all that happy horseshit, but 1) depression lies 2) even if I am deluding myself and denying objective reality or whatever, so what? "Tomorrow will be better" might not be true, might be ridiculous, but it helps and at least my delusions are cooler than some shithead with "serial entrepreneur" in his LinkedIn bio.

Anyway, I'm going to go barf up what's left of last night's pinot noir and take a shower.

💖

Ellie Trashcakes posted:

Don't get used to it 😜

MrQueasy posted:

Lake of Methane posted:

Beeftweeter posted:

lmao i thought they stopped making buicks