I did not know he was married. I just assumed not.
I thought he was copping a feel off Usha Vance.
(In my defense, the lighting is dim and if someone asked me to picture Stephen Miller’s wife, olive-skinned is emphatically not a descriptor that would have come to mind.)
For one, the sources claim that the Start menu is getting a full rewrite in WinUI 3, which will make it 60% more responsive and notably more customizable.
Customizable for whom?
Users? Advertisers?
And just like everything since windows xp, it’s a an iterative change from the last version with arbitrary things that are broken and only about 3/4 of the way through the product’s life do the features improve to the around the level of promise that was initially made, save for the stuff that’s been removed or intentionally broken to stifle interoperability, or stuffed with advertising.
I think it’s reasonable to find meaning in a hobby and to be afraid of bears.
I don’t think they know you run your own instance.
Performative self-victimization. It tracks.
“We have poor customer data safeguards, confidently present subpar work as acceptable, and have failed to adequately train our intended users but would like you to believe it’s all the users fault.”
When not referred to by its proper name, His Majesty is known as the womb hammer or the flesh dagger.
My IT department puts anything capable of storing data into a chipper when its time has come. The guys who load the trucks will throw laptops like frisbees into the steel cage that they lock the devices in between the office and the shredder.
They probably wouldn’t care if you gave your laptop a tattoo or even a piercing.
They’ve done Paul Newman dirty.
In the last little bit, I’ve noticed he’s had several weird ‘off script’ bits he’s been doing.
Commentators have picked up on it and have discussed them at length to highlight how cooked his brain is.
I think it’s part of an intentional effort to seed a mythos around him. Some true information, some false information. Overrepresent some of the fantastical stuff, especially through media channels to your low-information fans. Get a couple idiot commentators to start parroting a Jesus narrative for him. Pick a fight with the pope, maybe. See if you can dear-leader yourself into becoming the god king while your oligarch buddies fuck with the media and informational landscape.
Seems to be tracking.
(Editing to add: I want to be explicit that I don’t think this is a super-well executed plan. In terms of plans, This one seems to be written in crayon. But shit is definitely happening .)
At this rate, I just assumed he posted it with the captions. (I mean, I would probably figure out why, but my first impulse was a ‘sure, why not?’ kind of acceptance.)
Which is the goal of hypernormalization, right?
They’ve done Paul Newman dirty.
Humans are social animals. If you can’t rizz your bosses to promote you and your coworkers to help you, then you’re stuck and alone.
Cover/close just your dominant eye. Black.
Okay. Now your non-dominant one. Nothing.
Nothing is meant by this, really. It’s a neat trick and I like to share. It doesn’t invalidate your statement, because one sense does not constitute our whole being.
Boot loops suck.
I appreciate having two bathrooms. We can poop at the same time!
Plus the bathroom by the bedrooms is the one that hides all our shame. The one near the living room is whimsical and slutty – the exact takeaway about us I want guests to have.
(It’s got a lot of cartoon boobs and butts in there, some interracial sapphic mermaid art, a small painting done in the style of classic “ship art” of a penis breaching the waves like a whale. And of course the toilet has both Moby Dick and the 1970’s photo-illustrated version of “The Joy of Sex” for reading materials.)
The chocolate is spinning a narrative and I don’t like if.
Particularly messy ass to vagina creampie?