That takes me back to a club I was in during the '80s. The instructor had a space heater that looked a lot like this. Basically a horizontal tube with an open flame that she used to heat her garage. She did an safety demonstration by dropping a paper towel into the flame, so we 6-year-olds would know what happens when you go near the heater. You burn, children. You burn. Effective.
ArtieShaw
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Cake day: March 16th, 2024
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That’s so charming! It’s my absolute favorite thing today.
Where I grew up there was an urban legend about radioactive deer. It was pre-internet, the deer were legitimately weird, and they lived in the woods adjacent to one of the US’s earliest nuclear research facilities. Everyone had seen them. The facility was active and well guarded. It seemed… plausible. Very plausible.
https://www.flickr.com/photos/argonne/4077627323 https://www.chicagomag.com/chicago-magazine/july-2016/argonne-national-laboratory/
Yeah - I remember reading about how these signs were laughably easy to “hack” a few years ago.
I thought about it for minute when the city installed one down the street. Then I imagined the weird shame I’d feel when my neighbors inevitably caught me, so never tried it out. Actually, in retrospect, they’d probably have helped.
13·8 days agoI’ve always called it “map brain,” and am fascinated to watch people who don’t have that ability.
For example, my husband has been to the library and he has been to the grocery store. From home, he can get to either without any trouble. But if he’s at the grocery store and needs to go to the library? He’ll need to go home first. He just can’t visualize the steps if it’s a new path. He’s a brilliant guy, but he has a foggy brain map.
I’m pretty much the opposite, but what I love about GPS is that they’ll tell you which lane is optimal for the next exit. If it’s a new route, that’s super helpful.
Out of idle curiosity about your username, I’d like to ask.
Dune, cryptography, or both?
That would be ideal. I’ve also seen a few with weirdly discrete foot pedals. I like that idea, although the ones I’ve encountered haven’t exactly nailed the design.
- Throwaway comment that mentions a potato chip tin that’s not directly relevant to the comic
- Top image results link to etsy and I’m not bothering to check the rules about that
- It’s not hard to find
- Never expected anyone to lose their shit about it
Excellent work, though
Ah - my depression era grandparents never threw things away. One reason: they could re-use the object if it were durable enough. And they did.
By the '80s (maybe earlier?) they were complaining about the culture of trash. Their survival instincts were telling them to save and re-use. Their shiny new culture was telling them to throw that shit away.
I won’t link it, but an image can be found easily. Right now I’m looking at a New Era Potato Chip canister that lives in my office. (It’s weird - seriously, google it. “Feast Without Fear.”) It’s still good for storing things.
And Des Plaines, La Salle Street… I always keep telling my husband, “no, that’s not what it’s called” and he keeps getting rationally mad.
If we’re feeling the Indiana, there’s always Terre Haute.
Same. That’s why there’s a pass.
People who live there call it the latter.
Unless you’re Sufjan Stevens. I’ll give him a pass on that
1·18 days agoI hope the news is positive.
The only reason you stay here is so you can fuck my mother and eat her food. MOTHERFUCKER. FOOD EATER.
Whoops - wrong movie but IMO similar energy.
I just want to know if Denny can finally give a straight answer about what kind of money.
It’s a pretty accurate transcription of the line’s delivery.
Generally described as “the Citizen Kane of bad movies.” The lead actor, who non-coincidentally wrote and directed it, is a man of mystery, delusion, and apparent brain damage after one or more car accidents. He has competing desires for fame and a compulsive privacy regarding his past life and current location. He is inexplicably wealthy, after getting his start in California selling toy birds (Oiseau [Wiseau]) on the San Francisco waterfront.
His real name and national origin were matters of speculation for about a decade, but if you were to guess “a transylvanian got hit by a Paris bus and then moved to Louisiana and losing his shit” it would be close to the mark (Oh hai, Mark).
Watch the movie for what it is. If you need to delve deeper, read “The Disaster Artist” which is the (ghostwritten) memoir of his co-star and sometimes roommate. (The guy who played Mark)
Years ago someone on Reddit tracked down parts of his birthplace and history.
I saw the image before reading the caption and thought, “oh, **Harold **is getting a scolding.” So either:
a) this was a core memory from the '80s that I’ve somehow retained b) Larson always names that guy “Harold” c) I have powers beyond mortal comprehension
I ask my husband this exact question about twice a year. Usually when a cat is staring just past my head. He gets the reference.
Ohio. They’re invasive and only arrived in large quantities here about 6-8 years back. They’re in the Chicago area as well.
When I was a kid, a neighbor was shot in his garage. There were definitely two stories that went around the neighborhood. One said suicide and the other said “cleaning his gun.” One of those was repeated when kids were around. The other when they thought no one was listening.
Years back, I read was a very odd story about the Korean belief that falling asleep in a closed room with a running fan would result in death. This also seems to be a cover story for suicide.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fan_death