Eh, I used to feel like that when I was younger. I was a pretty solid bassist, and was good enough that the people I played with at least considered me the best player they knew. It was my thing. It was what I did.

Of course, that meant I’d get all insecure and threatened when someone else claimed to be good at doing what I did. That meant I’d want to show off, because, no, no. This is my thing. This is what I do.

It’s not a good way to be. Maybe don’t be like that if you can avoid it.

It also meant I started stagnating, 'cause I didn’t think I had anything left to learn. I wasn’t good enough to be inventive, but I didn’t want to accept that I wasn’t good enough to be inventive. So, I just got frustrated and bored, and I started losing interest.

After a while, I came across Thundercat, and got a bit humbled. Then, I came across Charles Berthoud and some other YouTube bassists, and got even more humbled.

It was awesome! I was finally reminded that there was so much more to learn, and so much more room for me to grow at the thing I loved. I may never be good enough to innovate or invent a technique of my own, but so what? Being the best seems so frustrating and boring. Screw that.

As long as there’s someone better than me at the thing I love, then I know there’s more for me to learn, and learning is way more satisfying.

(But don’t lose the sense of healthy competition. Few things help you grow better than a good rivalry)

I get these all the time, too. The fun part is, I’ve never donated to a campaign. I just inherited them from the person who had my number before.

I try not to hold it against Rebecca. She was just standing up for what she believes in.

Testicle bag extend

And then, in the case of it explaining how to counterfeit money, the AI gets so excited about solving the puzzle, it immediately disregards everything else and shouts the word in all-caps just like a real idiot would. It’s so lifelike…

Okay, I think I need this one explained to me. Neither the addition nor subtraction of Heathcliff make me understand this any more or less.

Is there a pun I’m missing, or is this a “cow tools” situation? I really hope it’s the latter, because I always get kind of a kick out of the absurdity, hahah

Heck, I’m not even in the military, and I believe this. Hahah, I bet they’re gonna feel so silly when they find out I don’t know anything!

You know. When they finally get here. sits patiently, staring at the door :)

Isn’t that just Ireland?

I’d really like to know what it’s like to be normal. Like, to be able to look and my life and say, “wow! I’m a perfectly functional, capable adult with a stable life. That’s great.”

Mostly, I guess I mean having a neurotypical brain, but I don’t know if that’s a hard requirement. I’d like to be able to socialize properly. I’d like to be able to go out and engage with people without my social battery being dead within 10 minutes, or without my anxiety of other people scaring me off from the thought of interacting with a stranger altogether.

I’d like to live somewhere with things to do and a way to easily access those things. I’d like to live somewhere where I’m not terrified to go outside, because it would mean having to risk my life behind the wheel of a car, or pay a ton of money I don’t have for a stranger to drive me where I want to go. I’d like to be able to fearlessly walk out my door and explore the world around me instead of hiding from it.

I’d like to know how to be able to do the things you’re supposed to do to have a full, well-adjusted life. I’d like to be able to live that life without having to combat a mountain of anxiety before every meeting or appointment. Logically, I know things will be fine, but when every other part of my brain screams that everything will go catastrophically wrong, it’s hard to ignore. I’d like to not shake, or be nauseous, or feel like I’m gonna shit my guts out before every little thing I have to do that isn’t sitting at home. I’d like to just be able to go do those things, and not worry about it.

I don’t know. There’s probably more, but these are what I can think of for right now.

When I was a kid, all the way up to when I was a young adult, I used to adore being quirky and unique. It was my identity, and I loved it about myself. I just wasn’t tired yet.

I turn 33 next month, and, honestly, all I want is to be normal.

Love the little exclamation point at the end. We did it, guys! 🎉🥳 🎊🕺

Do nothing, since an infinite number of people implies an inconceivable population overgrowth, so the best possible good for humanity is to cull the population.

Heck, you could probably go out and genocide the rest of the population that isn’t tied to the track and still not suffer any real loss. Then, you face the last true enemy: the bloodsoaked beast responsible for the deaths of untold billions- yourself.

Once you’ve slain that last creature, all of humanity that still remains will be those tied to the railroad track. The only living people will spend their entire lives knowing nothing but the track and the trolley, and the imposing fear that one day, they, too, shall be crushed under its wheels like those before them.

The only life remaining for the human race is now one of terror and eventual slaughter. There are no good outcomes to this conundrum. There are only the uncaring wheels of the trolley.

It’s just how things rotate out. Gen X had it, Millenials had it, now it’s Gen Z’s turn. It gets views from older generations who want any excuse to look down on those who’ve come after, and the generation in-question when they see the headline and think “what? Who the fuck is doing that? What are they talking about?”

Get ready for it to go on through the next decade or so.

(That said, it is horseshit, and “that’s how it’s always been” is no excuse to let things continue like that. I wouldn’t mind seeing an end put to it, myself)

Trying to describe to someone what a sick-ass drum solo sounds like through a cappella

Arson ❤️

So, the only way to beat Danny DeVito is to confuse him into thinking it’s always sunny?

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Sandwiches are named after a Welsh peasant dish that originally consisted of witch meat between two bricks of baked sand. It was terrible and offered little nutritional value, but was very popular due to the great availability of witch meat and lack of any real alternatives for nourishment.

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🚨🚨🚨BLUE SKY EN ROUTE

Twice per sexual, since you technically can’t have bisexual sex with just one partner.

Source: Am bisexual, but am also on the internet, so essentially I’m just guessing here