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soda is just sour juice that we put bubbles and ice in like a clown took a fruit and whispered static into it then served it cold because room temperature isn't dramatic enough and we all pretend it's refreshing even though it tastes like betrayal in a can like if a lemon and a lightning storm had a baby and named it disappointment and now it fizzes at you every time you try to enjoy a sip like it’s judging your life choices with every carbonated pop and don't even get me started on the ice which is just cold water with an ego problem sitting there melting slowly like it’s trying to sneak into your drink unnoticed like a teenager creeping past curfew adding water one drop at a time until suddenly your soda tastes like sadness and sink water and the bubbles are gone because of course they are because nothing good ever stays like dreams or paychecks or that feeling you get right before your favorite show gets canceled for no reason and we still drink it because why not because life is a never-ending circus and soda is the clown car full of citrusy lies and artificial joy and it's not even real juice it's a chemically enhanced liquid illusion like a magician in a lab coat trying to convince your tongue that this is what oranges would taste like if they had abandonment issues and grew up in a plastic bottle and don’t pretend diet soda is better because that’s like saying a punch in the face is better if you’re wearing sunglasses sure it’s technically true but the experience still sucks and now your mouth tastes like a robot tried to kiss you while whispering sweet nothings about zero calories and you nodded along even though deep down you knew the only thing zero in that can is dignity and yet we keep drinking it because it’s everywhere like regret or pop songs or that one cousin who shows up uninvited and brings nothing to the party but weird energy and half a story and soda’s sitting there too fizzing in the corner like it owns the place while the ice clinks along like a wingman with nothing better to do and the straw swirls in like a plastic parasite pretending to help when all it does is make you look like you’re trying too hard to enjoy a chemical cocktail that tastes like liquidized peer pressure and forgotten promises but fine fine sure soda's fine let's all keep drinking it because what else are we gonna do drink water like we're responsible adults or gods forbid try kombucha and start talking about gut health like our intestines have a personality and need to be catered to like a temperamental houseguest who only eats fermented things and judges your Netflix queue no thanks give me my cold bubbly regret in a cup full of lies and half-melted ambition and let me sip my carbonated mediocrity in peace while the ice stares back at me like it knows what I did last summer
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# ? Apr 26, 2025 17:52 |
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post your unhinged rants here vvvvvv
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I've never tried kombucha. Is it good? Does it help you poop?
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soda makes me fart a lot OP
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is a door without hinges still a door? I argue that no, it is now a beer pong table. It has been improved by stripping away that which defines it as a door. remove the door knob, it is a cup holder for the judge if you sink it into the judge's beer you are automatically disqualified. Now who wants to dress up as clowns and play beer pong but the sun is still up so we're using sour clown juice. Except the judge they are day drinking because the rules say they must have a beer.
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Anderson Koopa posted:I've never tried kombucha. Is it good? It has probiotics
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British people say Soder
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Soda is usually sweet not sour OP
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Tube posted:It has probiotics I'm team antibiotics ![]()
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Lil Swamp Booger Baby posted:British people say Soder Wasn't Thomas the Tank engine from there?
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BAGS FLY AT NOON posted:Soda is usually sweet not sour OP Only compared to water or lemons, not other juice
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Soda? You mean burp water.
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pixaal posted:is a door without hinges still a door? I argue that no, it is now a beer pong table. It has been improved by stripping away that which defines it as a door. remove the door knob, it is a cup holder for the judge if you sink it into the judge's beer you are automatically disqualified. Now who wants to dress up as clowns and play beer pong but the sun is still up so we're using sour clown juice. Except the judge they are day drinking because the rules say they must have a beer. hinges are life because everything important swings on them doors relationships knees sometimes your sanity and when one breaks you don’t notice at first it just creaks a little like a warning cough from the universe but you ignore it because who listens to hinges until the whole drat door falls off and slaps you like a wet towel of consequences and suddenly you’re staring at your problems wide open with no way to close them again hinges are that quiet kid in high school who knew too much and said too little until prom night when everything went sideways and now nobody talks about what happened in the gymnasium with the fog machine and the principal’s Volvo and they’re always there these hinges holding it all together with screws barely tight like your last shred of optimism or the waistband on your sweatpants after thanksgiving dinner and we just keep trusting them like fools dangling off the edge of function and entropy while time rusts everything with the enthusiasm of a raccoon in a trash buffet they squeak like a ghost with joint pain every time you open the closet where you keep your hopes your backup dreams your failed attempts at adulting and maybe a cursed sweater from 2003 that still smells like compromise and Axe body spray and that’s the thing right hinges don’t judge they just hang in there like emotional support metal unless they snap and take half the frame with them because sometimes even the strongest get tired of holding your drat door shut and what’s worse is we oil them like that fixes things slathering on a bandaid of lubricant and denial thinking we did something useful while the whole structure groans like a middle manager two years from retirement who just wants to go fishing but can’t because Gary called in sick again and the toner exploded some hinges are ornamental which is just fancy talk for useless like motivational posters or scented erasers or promises from people who use phrases like circle back or value-added which are code for I will let this fall apart with a smile and don’t even bring up metaphorical hinges like emotional thresholds or spiritual doors because then we’re swimming in a sea of half-baked life advice with no paddle and only a vague horoscope to guide us and meanwhile real hinges are out here doing the work the unsung heroes of every opening every closing every dramatic exit and accidental reveal of that one drawer full of tangled cords and expired batteries hinges are the spine of civilization the reason your bathroom door doesn’t betray you mid-shower the quiet MVPs of intimacy and privacy and dramatic entrances and yet they’ll never get a holiday no one makes a card that says thanks for holding it together when everything else was falling apart you beautiful underrated mechanical wizard and maybe that’s the point maybe we’re all hinges just trying to stay attached keep swinging not snap under pressure and if we squeak a little so what at least we’re still here still holding on still keeping the drat door from hitting someone in the face on the way out
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Civilization is a spine made of hinges? are we some kind of snake? A giant ouroboros?
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pixaal posted:Civilization is a spine made of hinges? are we some kind of snake? A giant ouroboros? maaaaan you don't know the half of it
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tl:dr OP but my takeaway is soda is sour clown juice and I'm ok with that assertion.
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soda or pop?
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lowtax death mask posted:soda or pop? Soda pop Or it's all "Coke" in the southeast
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Anderson Koopa posted:I've never tried kombucha. Is it good? It's pretty good. I made my own a while back but I think I was putting too much sugar in it cause it was legitimately getting me drunk off just a couple of glasses. I've been thinking about making some more lately, I haven't fed my scoby in over a year and just assumed it must have died by now but when I was digging through a cupboard the other day I found the gallon jar it was in and it had grown to fill almost the entire jar so I guess I'll brew some tea tonight and see what happens. Worst case I'll probably have some tasty vinegar at least. Didn't notice anything in the poop department when I was drinking it on the reg. e: Never got the carbonation quite right though, not sure why Bird Turgler fucked around with this message at 21:00 on Mar 24, 2025 |
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yup, it really grinds my gears, op
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More like diluted corn syrup. Still, better than the fabuloso tasting fake sugars they keep trying to sneak into things, even things with actual sugar in it. They need another word for the substitute sugars because they definitely aren't sweet.
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so what OP bubbles are rad
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I wasn't addicted to pop at all then I quit smoking and drinking and now I am addicted to diet soda. gently caress
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Anderson Koopa posted:I've never tried kombucha. Is it good? Probably depends on the individual. The first sip is probably going to be very off putting, slightly vinegary. But it's nice and of course store brands are all tarted up with berry and juice flavors etc.
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Been sayin this
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Bird Turgler posted:It's pretty good. I made my own a while back but I think I was putting too much sugar in it cause it was legitimately getting me drunk off just a couple of glasses. I've been thinking about making some more lately, I haven't fed my scoby in over a year and just assumed it must have died by now but when I was digging through a cupboard the other day I found the gallon jar it was in and it had grown to fill almost the entire jar so I guess I'll brew some tea tonight and see what happens. Worst case I'll probably have some tasty vinegar at least. Bird Turgler posted:It's pretty good. I made my own a while back but I think I was putting too much sugar in it cause it was legitimately getting me drunk off just a couple of glasses. I've been thinking about making some more lately, I haven't fed my scoby in over a year and just assumed it must have died by now but when I was digging through a cupboard the other day I found the gallon jar it was in and it had grown to fill almost the entire jar so I guess I'll brew some tea tonight and see what happens. Worst case I'll probably have some tasty vinegar at least. I'll have to look for it in the store and give it a try.
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kombucha is amazing but not for the faint of heart or the strong of nose or the innocent of palate it’s like drinking the ghost of a vinegar factory that died in a yoga accident and came back to haunt your gut with probiotics and unrelenting self-righteousness like it’s not a beverage it’s a fermented dare dressed in a mason jar wearing a scarf and telling you about its trip to Bali the first sip is betrayal like your mouth signed up for juice and got a roundhouse kick from a fermented tea leaf with a superiority complex it’s tangy in the way regret is tangy like you’re not sure if you love it or if it’s just Stockholm Syndrome with a fizz and then you realize oh no you’re hooked and now you can’t go back to regular drinks without wondering where the culture is where the complexity is where the hell is my scoby and don’t get me started on the scoby that sentient blob of biomechanical mystery floating in the jar like an alien placenta or something you’d find in a mad wizard’s fridge next to the pickled despair and unlabeled potion vials it’s alive it has texture and it looks like the thing that stares back at you when you question your life choices in the mirror at 3am but somehow it makes health potions and hipster cred so we let it live kombucha is the beverage equivalent of a personality test wrapped in a punch to the colon it’s sweet but only in the way a backhanded compliment is sweet like someone telling you you look good for your age or that you’re brave for trying fermented stuff on purpose and meanwhile your tongue is screaming your esophagus is negotiating and your stomach is quietly clapping like yes yes give me more of that delicious microbial chaos and let’s not pretend people drink it casually no one just accidentally enjoys kombucha the way you might stumble into liking sparkling water or acoustic remixes of 90s dance songs no this is intentional this is ritualistic this is the sacred bubbling grail of those who wear sandals year-round and think "forest bathing" is a real thing and who honestly believe you can clear trauma by humming at a quartz crystal but if you can survive that first bottle if you can ride the vinegar tsunami past the bubbles of doubt and the aftertaste of ancestral fermentation you will emerge changed you will be reborn with guts of steel and a tongue that fears nothing not even turmeric or spirulina or phrases like activated charcoal you will be initiated into the ancient sect of people who know where to buy ginger lemon cayenne kombucha and how to pronounce all the ingredients on the label without crying kombucha is not for cowards or casuals it’s not a soda it’s not a juice it’s a lifestyle in a glass bottle it’s digestive chaos alchemy it’s drinking your own weird decisions and saying yeah I made this choice and I’d do it again and then burping quietly because it is, after all, alive and full of judgment
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too many words write less words next time
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cumpantry posted:too many words write less words next time there are not too many words only the necessary ones each one a brick in the crumbling wall of explanation stacked and chipped and maybe a little moldy but still standing because without them what do we have grunts and interpretive dance and confused eyebrows trying to navigate complex emotional terrain with nothing but sighs and panic blinks people say oh you talk too much or why so many words and I say friend that’s like telling a river it flows too far or a sandwich it has too much sandwich in it there is no excess when you’re trying to build a bridge out of language and most bridges need more than just one plank and a hopeful shrug every word is a lifeboat on the sea of misunderstanding and some of us are out here with entire fleets trying to keep nuance from drowning while others are clinging to one-word rafts screaming vibes at the storm and hoping for rescue words are like seasoning too little and the meal is bland too much and you’re just showing off but just enough and you reach that moment that transcends hunger where your mouth goes silent not because it has nothing to say but because the flavors are already speaking in tongues and yes some of us use more than others not because we love the sound of our own voices okay maybe a little but mostly because silence is a tricky thing it fills up fast with assumptions and bad memories and that one conversation you had five years ago that still haunts you in the shower so we fill the air with words not because we’re trying to suffocate you but because we’re trying to breathe and sometimes that takes a whole paragraph and a dramatic pause and maybe a weird metaphor about chairs or bees or existential dread but trust me there are not too many words only the ones we need and sometimes the ones we didn’t know we needed until they showed up and made a mess of our neatly filed emotional cabinets dragging out old files labeled don’t talk about this and hey remember that time in fifth grade when you called your teacher mom words are how we stitch reality together how we tape over the cracks and scrawl poetry on the duct tape because why the hell not we’re all falling apart we might as well do it eloquently so no there are not too many words just too few patient ears and maybe not enough people willing to admit that sometimes the best part of the sentence is the one that hasn’t stopped yet
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Tube posted:post your unhinged rants here vvvvvv Tube posted:soda is just sour juice that we put bubbles and ice in like a clown took a fruit and whispered static into it then served it cold because room temperature isn't dramatic enough and we all pretend it's refreshing even though it tastes like betrayal in a can like if a lemon and a lightning storm had a baby and named it disappointment and now it fizzes at you every time you try to enjoy a sip like it’s judging your life choices with every carbonated pop
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Tube posted:there are not too many words only the necessary ones each one a brick in the crumbling wall of explanation stacked and chipped and maybe a little moldy but still standing because without them what do we have grunts and interpretive dance and confused eyebrows trying to navigate complex emotional terrain with nothing but sighs and panic blinks you are human gpt
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what if you like being kissed by a robot?
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i'm drinking a can of 7up Zero right now OP what you gonna do huh?
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cumpantry posted:you are human gpt I've been called worse
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Panic! At The Tesco posted:i'm drinking a can of 7up Zero right now OP what you gonna do huh? Call in the clowns
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i'd better nip to the shop and top up the supply then, it would be rude of me to not offer the clowns a nice fizzy beverage
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The first time I tried kombucha I grabbed a bottle on a whim, no idea what it was, and got some lunch. This was at a whole foods. Paid, found an empty table and shook the kombucha violently, opened it and it sprayed all over me, my table and every table adjacent to me that was not blocked by my body.
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c*mpantry posted:too many words write less words next time
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Anderson Koopa posted:I'm team antibiotics drat u
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# ? Apr 26, 2025 17:52 |
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Ultimate Shrek Fan posted:drat u Reported for hostility.
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