The How™

1992; I’m two years old, and having an absolute blast running through the sheets my mom had put up out on the clothesline.

About a decade ago my mom and I were talking about early memories. It turns out she happened to have a disposable camera on her at the time, and there’s pictures of me, joyfully forming my earliest memory as a toddler.

Home pizza hobbiest here. I use low-moisture part-skim pre-shredded mozz, but put it on the pie frozen. As long as there’s not too much grease from the toppings I rarely get problems with the cheese splitting.

Oh my god, they were roommates.

Yeah, I guess it reads weird. I think I intended it as a early barometer to his character, but didn’t expand or lampshade it properly. Oh well. It’s a lemmy comment, not a graded CW essay.

Worked for a small business which did electronics repair, and which had recently picked up e-waste recycling. Our boss, the owner, was known for getting baked out of his mind and imagining things which he needed to tell his staff, and would think the next day that he had actually told that thing to his staff. Just to give you an idea of the kind of guy the owner is, we had two company-wide group texts for the 11 people on payroll. One had everyone, and the other had everyone except the owner. The owner never knew about that one, and honestly that arrangement was a necessity to keep turnover low and by extension the business from running aground.

Anyway, my coworker is talking to a customer at the counter, who is dropping off an old television to be recycled. The customers leave, and the owner walks in.

Owner: “Wait, is this a plasma? We can’t take this!”

Coworker: “why not?”

Owner: “We can’t do plasmas! We’ve never done plasmas!” sees the stack of plasma screen televisions “What the fuck?! Who accepted these?”

Me: “Dude, you’ve never mentioned that we can’t do anything with plasmas before.”

Owner: “Yeah! It was in the class on e-waste recycling.”

Coworker: “You were the only one who took that because you didn’t want to fly anyone else to Vegas for a four day conference.”

At this point I think the owner started to realize he hadn’t actually disseminated anything other than the logistical aspects of the e-waste business to the employees.

Owner: “So, what, no one knows what we actually accept for e-waste?”

Me: “I don’t think so, man.”

The owner looks at me with obvious anger and with that look that says he’s about to blame me for something.

Owner: “So, what y’all want a fucking list or something?”

Coworker: “Yeah, that would be great, actually.”

The owner turned red, looked about ready to angry-cry, and walked out. Went home and got baked. I don’t think he ever actually put a list together. The e-waste thing fell through a few months later after I left because the warehouse he was renting and illegally living out of was like a quarter the size needed, and there wasn’t any money left for processing equipment. He franchised a corporate brand like a year later.

Fuck you, Matt, you goddamn moron.

Hmp! Ooph! Unng! How are you?

Oh I get it, you’re just in denial about modern gender theory. Good luck with your rocks. The trick is to bang them together.

We literally made up Ms., Mrs., and Mr.

That’s how language works, we get to make it up as we go along.

How do you think we got here??

I like the idea and message of the first one except that I used to have an absolute asshole of a neighbor who drove a heep-ed out Wrangler with a spare tire cover which had the phrase on it. I can’t separate any longer.