Trying getting out of that in your 50s with arthritis setting in. Oof.

As a kid, I never got that concept because it seemed like being manipulated. "I dare you to do this dangerous thing for my amusement!" Uh. No? "Chicken!" Okay, whatever, dude.

MBAs who contract dev work out to India to make a quick buck without realizing how bad the code they’re going to get back usually is.

Ah, but some of them DO know what they are doing! In the IT world, I have seen where people say a job is about 2-3 years, show no loyalty to the company, and so on. But they don't understand managers are doing this, too. Many KNOW these outsourcers are shitty (or don't care because that's not a metric they care about beyond selling points), but in a 2-3 year turnaround time, by the time it's apparent they don't work, the people who made those decisions are already gone. They ALSO thought ahead to the 2-3 year plan. Here's how that goes:

Year 1: Make proposal based on costs. Find someone in Puna who will sell you some package with some bright, smiling, educated people who speak whatever language and accent that makes your pitch. Proposals are made, and attached to next year's budget.

Year 2: Start the crossover. Puna Corp has swapped out the "demo people" for their core chum bucket. Sometimes, they don't even change the names. How is an American gonna know that the Vivek Patel they saw in the demo is not the same guy named Vivek Patel who is working with your bitter employees who see the writing on the wall? Sadly to many who don't care, "they all look/sound alike." Puna is a product, their employees are a static pattern of commodity. Your people say they are shit, but, "oh, those grumbling employees. Your job is safe! We can't fire you, you are too valuable!"

Year 3: The crossover has gone badly, but you are already looking for the next company to work for. The layoffs happen, and all the good folks are gone, and replaced by the Puna Corp folks. Things start to go badly, but you already got one foot out the door, charming your way into another company.

Year 4: You're gone. Your legacy is that you saved a butt-ton of money. You are a success! The product is shit, but that's not your problem. By the time the company realizes the tragedy, it's middle manager versus middle manager, all backstabbing and jumping ship. Customers don't matter, marketing covers up the satisfaction. "Wow," you say. "Things sure when to shit THE MOMENT I LEFT." You look fantastic! When you were there, you saved money! When you left, it all went downhill! You are a goddamn rockstar. Then repeat.

I have seen this happen since the 90s with a lot of tech folks. Everyone thinking short term for themselves. Only the customers get screwed via enshittification.

When I was a kid, one of my friends got a stuffed puffer fish for his 10th (?) birthday from an uncle. We klater joked "he's too old for stuffed animals," but IIRC, he loved that thing.

It's a myriad of issues.

1. Farts are not considered to be socially acceptable, and thus one loses "social status" if one farts. So at an early age, you learn to hold it in. This has been going on since antiquity, as it is the source of the oldest humor seen via graffiti.
2. You can get in trouble if you fart (I guess because of #1). I knew of a few times someone farted, and the teacher sent them out for punishment for "disrupting class."
3. People learn to fart silently, usually through experimentation and training to avoid item #1.

Just in case people actually think this is a good idea: do not. Plastic, uncontrolled spray, and blowback is just really shooting uncontrolled fire in all directions. It works in your cartoon world head, but I know someone who tried and suddenly the failure (like escaping fumes around the holder, gasoline versus rubber gaskets meant for water) make you go, "Oh. Right." Thankfully, they only got first degree burns on their face, head, hands, and arms, a weird balding patterns, and missing eyebrows. Thankfully, someone had an ABC fire extinguisher nearby. Yes, alcohol was involved.

The ones I have seen that work involve metal tubing and a secondary mixing of forced air along with a special fuel. https://www.recoilweb.com/flamethrowers-once-tools-of-war-now-toys-67763.html

The ironic thing is that they because successful because of civilization and pack mentality, but are so conceited, they think all that infrastructure (public roads, doctors, restaurants, etc) exists simply because they exist. It's weirdly how toddlers see the universe, and why tantrums between the two groups are so similar.

Moe (萌え, Japanese pronunciation: [mo.e] ⓘ), sometimes romanized as moé, is a Japanese word that refers to feelings of strong affection mainly towards characters in anime, manga, video games, and other media directed at the otaku market. Moe, however, has also gained usage to refer to feelings of affection towards any subject.

Moe is related to neoteny and the feeling of "cuteness" a character can evoke. The word moe originated in the late 1980s and early 1990s in Japan and is of uncertain origin, although there are several theories on how it came into use. Moe characters have expanded through Japanese media, and the concept has been commercialised. Contests, both online and in the real world, exist for moe-styled things, including one run by one of the Japanese game rating boards. Various notable commentators such as Tamaki Saitō, Hiroki Azuma, and Kazuya Tsurumaki have also given their take on moe and its meaning.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Moe_(slang)

My first wife is suddenly alive and meets my second wife. Awkward.

What might be worse is if someone was there that you didn't know that you had sex with. Like some random person who raped you while you were unconscious after a party in college, or your uncle from your childhood.

Scissors and knives.

I used to sell high end stuff like that, and let me tell you, there's a trope about crafters considering murder when someone uses their, say, fabric scissors or sewing scissors to cut paper or something that ruins them. For scissors, however, nothing is more expensive and delicate than a decent set of haircutting shears used by professional hair stylists. Fuck, some go into the HUNDREDS of dollars or more. And then some clown wants to cut some box open with them.

Knives, though. Good set of chefs knives goes into the thousands. Like the kind used by professional chefs. I had some chef clients who tell me horror stories about some kitchen yokel using a $350 hand forged Santoku to stab open a can of tomato paste or toss into a cutting board like a throwing knife.

But even basic knives. People using them as prybars, hammers, screwdrivers, and tossing them in a drawer with other metal rattling around.

It's not that great. They are overpopulated and ruining the ecosystem, so we were paid to hunt them. But the meat is rancid, it's wrought with disease, and even the pelts are worthless: 50/50 poly/cotton isn't even suitable for rags or waterproof enough for tarps.

They have no natural predators either, and the are clogging the rural landscape. If we leave them to rot, they smell terrible and poison the soil and water table. In 2020-2022 we thought disease would wipe them out, but they banned birth control and are breeding faster than we can control.

There were programs to feed the homeless from various donations from hunters, but even the homeless reject them because they taste like cigarettes and stale Miller Lite. There's plans to use their bodies for construction filler, but the are oily and unstable. In bodies of water their fat floats them to the surface like fatburgs one finds clogging sewers.

The whole program is a disaster.

• Panic at the Cisco

I used to troll my roommate: I have a Multi-Band wireless access point, and I would name other networks stuff to mess with them. They are from Louisiana, and are very proud of their culinary roots. One day, they came back from a trip with the relatives, and brought home some boudin, which I cooked and served with rice. I thought it was sausage, but it's a blend of pork cooked down with onions, peppers, seasonings, AND cooked rice, so serving it with rice was redundant, apparently. They got SO ANGRY, that to this day, I am not allowed to eat it in front of them, so I have been trolling them for "boudin with rice" everywhere I can. When they still lived with me, I changed the "ancillary network names" shit like, "Boudin with rice," and "Mild crawfish with ketchup," and "Campbell's New England Gumbo" and a ton of other culinary "bastardizations" of authentic Louisiana cooking. So every time they were on their laptop, I'd hear a "... Boudin corn dog--OH MY GOD PUNKIE YOU BASTARD!!! AAUGH!!!"