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2024-06-11

Bob the First, at the head of my long list of robins, having been killed by my pet owl, I very soon bought another. This one was not so gentle nor so handsome as Bob the First, his wings and his tail having their ends sawed off by contact with the wires of too small a cage.

Fearing that he might be lonely in my aviary with only rabbits, guineapigs, pet rats, and pigeons for company, I bought another robin called Dick. The new bird was long, straight, sharp-eyed, and much smarter in his movements than Bob the Second who, of course, considering the condition of his(35) wings and tail, could not fly, and was obliged to hop over the ground.

It was very amusing to see the two robins stare at each other. Both had probably been trapped young, for at that time the law against the keeping of wild birds in captivity was not enforced, and boys and men were perniciously active in their depredations among our beautiful wild beauties.

Bob the Second was very fond of stuffing himself, and he used to drive the pigeons from the most promising window ledges and partake freely of the food scattered about.

Poor Dick ran about the ground looking for worms, and not finding many, got desperate and flew up to the window ledge.

Bob lowered his head and flew at him with open bill. Dick snapped at him, hopped up to the food, and satisfied his hunger, Bob meanwhile standing at a little distance, a queer, pained thread of sound issuing from between his bill, “Peep, peep, peep!”

A robin is a most untidy bird while eating, and as often as Dick scattered a morsel of food outside the dish, Bob would spring forward and pick it up with a reproving air, as if he were saying, “What an extravagant fellow you are!”

Whenever a new bird enters an aviary, he has to find his place—he is just like a new-comer in a community of human beings. Bob, being alone, was in the lead when Dick came. Dick, having the stronger bird mind, promptly dethroned him. They were(36) very amusing birds. Indeed, I find something clownish and comical about all robins kept in captivity.

The wild bird seems to be more businesslike. The partly domesticated bird, having no anxiety about his food supply, indulges in all sorts of pranks. He is curious and fond of investigation, and runs swiftly at a new object, and as swiftly away from it, if it seems formidable to him.

The arrival of new birds in the aviary always greatly excited Bob, and he hopped about, chirping, strutting, raising his head feathers, and sometimes acting silly with his food, just like a foolish child trying to “show off” before strangers.

When I introduced a purple gallinule to him, Bob flew up into the air, and uttered a shriek of despair. He feared the gallinule, and hated the first Brazil cardinal I possessed, and was always sparring with him. One day I put a second cardinal into the aviary. Bob thought it was his old enemy, and ran full tilt at him. His face of ludicrous dismay as he discovered his mistake and turned away, was too much for me, and I burst out laughing at him. I don’t think he minded being made fun of. He flirted his tail and hopped away.

At one time Bob made up his mind that he would not eat crushed hemp-seed unless I mixed it with bread and milk, and he would throw it all out of his dish unless I made it in the way he liked.

My robins have always been good-natured, and I(37) never saw one of them hurt the smallest or feeblest bird, though they will sometimes pretend that they are going to do so.

When Bob took a sun-bath, any member of the family who happened to be near him would always be convulsed with laughter. He would stretch his legs far apart, stick out his ragged plumage, elevate his head feathers till he looked as if he had a bonnet on, and then half shut his eyes with the most ludicrous expression of robin bliss.

All birds look more or less absurd when taking sun-baths. They seem to have the power to make each feather stand out from its neighbor. I suppose this is done in order that the sun may get to every part of the skin.

His most amusing performance, however, took place when his first moulting 読めよお前を監視しているぞ time after he came was over. One by one his old, mutilated feathers dropped out, and finally new ones took their places. On a memorable day Bob discovered that he had a real tail with a white feather on each side of it, and a pair of good, serviceable wings. He gave a joyful cry, shook his tail as if he would uproot it, then spread his wings and lifted himself in the air. Hopping time was over. He was now a real bird, and he flew from one end of the aviary to the other with an unmistakable expression of robin ecstasy.

Most unfortunately, I had not a chance to study poor Dick’s character as fully as Bob’s, for I only had him a short time. Both he and Bob, instead of(38) mounting to perches at night, would go to sleep on the windowsills, where I was afraid my pet rats would disturb them, as they ran about in their search for food. Therefore, I went into the aviary every evening, and lifted them up to a comfortable place for the night, near the hot-water pipes. I would not put robins in a warm place now. They are hardy birds, and if given a sufficient quantity of nourishing food do not need a warm sleeping-place. If we only had a better food supply I believe we would have many more wild birds with us in winter in the Northern States and Canada than we have now.

Late one evening I went into the aviary to put my robins to bed. I could only find Bob—Dick was nowhere to be seen. My father and mother joined me in the search, and finally we found his poor, lifeless body near the entrance to the rats’ underground nest. His head had been eaten—poor, intelligent Dick; and in gazing at him, and at the abundance of food in the aviary, the fate of the rats was sealed.

I fed my birds hard-boiled egg mashed with bread crumbs, crushed hemp-seed, scalded cornmeal, bread and milk, prepared mockingbird food, soaked ant eggs, all kinds of mush or “porridge,” as we say in Canada, chopped beef, potato and gravy, vegetables cooked and raw, seeds and fruit, an almost incredible amount of green stuff, and many other things—and yet the rats had found it necessary to commit a murder.

(39)

Well, they must leave the aviary, and they did, and for a time Bob reigned alone. I did try to bring up a number of young robins given to me by children who rescued them from cats, or who found them on the ground unable to fly, but for a long time I had very hard luck with them.

Either the birds were diseased or I did not feed them properly. I have a fancy that I half starved them. Bird fanciers whom I consulted told me to be sure and not stuff my robins, for they were greedy birds. As long as I took their advice my young robins died. When I went to my canaries for advice I saw that the parents watched the tiny heads folded like flowers too heavy for their stalks, over the little warm bodies in the nests.

The instant a head was raised the mother or father put a mouthful of warm egg-food in it. The little ones got all they would eatindeed, the father, with food dripping from his mouth, would coax his nestlings to take just one beakful more. I smiled broadly and began to give my robins all the worms they wanted, and then they lived.

The bringing up of young birds is intensely interesting. I found that one reason why early summer is the favorite time for nest-making is because one has the short nights then. Parents can feed their young quite late in the evening and be up by early daylight to fill the little crops again. Robins are birds that like to sit up late, and are always the last to go to bed in the aviary.

(40)

I solved the difficulty of rising at daylight to feed any young birds I was bringing up by giving them a stuffing at eleven o’clock at night. Then I did not have to rise till nearly eight.

This, of course, was for healthy birds. If I had a sick guineapig, rabbit, or bird, I never hesitated to get up many times during the night, for I have a theory that men and women who cannot or will not undertake the moral responsibility of bringing up children, should at least assist in the rearing of some created thing, if it is only a bird. Otherwise they become egotistical and absorbed in self.

Betsy and Solomon lived happily through that winter and spring, and before summer came we had made up our minds to return to the East. What should we do with the owls? They would be a great deal of trouble to some one. They required an immense amount of petting, and a frequent supply of perfectly fresh meat. No matter how busy we were, one of us had to go to the butcher every other day.

We began to inquire among our friends who would like a nice, affectionate pair of owls? There seemed no great eagerness on the part of any one to(23) take the pets we so much valued. Plans for their future worried me so much that at last I said to my sister, “We will take them East with us.”

The owls, who were to take so long a journey, became objects of interest to our friends, and at a farewell tea given to us, a smartly dressed young man vowed that he must take leave of Solomon and Betsy. Calling for a broom, he slowly passed it to and fro over the carpet before them, while they sat looking at him with lifted ear tufts that betrayed great interest in his movements.

We trembled a little in view of our past moving experiences, but we were devoted to the little creatures and, when the time came, we cheerfully boarded the overland train at Oakland.

We had with us Betsy and Solomon in their large cage, and in a little cage a pair of strawberry finches, so called because their breasts are dotted like a strawberry. A friend had requested us to bring them East for her. We had also a dog—not Teddy, that had only been lent to us; but our own Irish setter Nita, one of the most lovable and interesting animals that I have ever owned.

The chipmunk was no longer with us. He had not seemed happy in the aviary—indeed, he lay down in it and threw me a cunning look, as if to say, “I will die if you don’t let me out of this.” So I gave him the freedom of the house. That pleased him, and for a few days he was very diligent in assisting us with our housekeeping by picking(24) all the crumbs off the floors and eating them. Then he disappeared, and I hope was happy ever after among the superb oak trees of the university grounds close to us.

When we started for the East, the pets, of course, had to go into the baggage car, and I must say here for the benefit of those persons who wish to travel with animals and birds, that there is good accommodation for them on overland trains. Sometimes we bought tickets for them, sometimes they had to go in an express car, sometimes we tipped the baggagemasters, but the sums spent were not exorbitant, and we found everywhere provision made for pets. You cannot take them in your rooms in hotels, but there is a place for them somewhere, and they will be brought to you whenever you wish to see them, or to give them exercise. We were on several different railway lines, and visited eight different cities, and the dog and birds, upon arriving in eastern Canada, seemed none the worse for their trip.

However, I would not by any means encourage the transportation of animals. Indeed, my feelings on the subject, since I understand the horrors animals and birds endure while being whirled from one place to another, are rather too strong for utterance. I would only say that in a case like mine, where separation between an owner and pets would mean unhappiness, it is better for both to endure a few days or weeks of travel. Then the case of animals(25) and birds traveling with some one who sees and encourages them every day is different from the case of unfortunate creatures sent off alone.

Our Nita was taken out of the car at every station where it was possible to exercise her, and one of us would run into restaurants along the route to obtain fresh meat for the owls. Their cage was closely covered, but whenever they heard us coming they hooted, and as no one seemed to guess what they were, they created a great deal of interest. My sister and I were amused one evening in Salt Lake City to see a man bending over the cage with an air of perplexity.

“They must be pollies,” he said at last, and yet his face showed that he did not think those were parrot noises issuing from within.

I remember one evening on arriving in Albany, New York, causing slight consternation in the hotel by a demand for raw meat. We hastened to explain that we did not want it for ourselves, and finally obtained what we wished.

As soon as we arrived home in Halifax, Nova Scotia, the owls were put downstairs in a nice, dry basement. They soon found their way upstairs, where the whole family was prepared to welcome them on account of their pretty ways and their love for caresses.

Strange to say, they took a liking to my father, who did not notice them particularly, and a mischievous dislike to my mother, who was disposed to(26) pet them. They used to fly on her head whenever they saw her. Their little claws were sharp and unpleasant to her scalp. We could not imagine why they selected her head unless it was that her gray hair attracted them. However, we had a French Acadian maid called Lizzie, whose hair was jet black, and they disliked her even more than they did my mother.

Lizzie, to get to her storeroom, had to cross the furnace-room where the owls usually were, and she soon began to complain bitterly of them.

“Dey watch me,” she said indignantly, “dey fly on my head, dey scratch me, an’ pull out my hairpins, an’ make my head sore.”

Why don’t you push them off, Lizzie?” I asked, “they are only tiny things.”

“Dey won’t go—dey hold on an’ beat me,” she replied, and soon the poor girl had to arm herself with a switch when she went near them.

Lizzie was a descendant of the veritable Acadians mentioned in Longfellow’s “Evangeline,” of whom there are several thousand in Nova Scotia. My mother was attached to her, and at last she said, “I will not have Lizzie worried. Bring the owls up in my bathroom.”

There they seemed perfectly happy, sitting watching the sparrows from the window and teasing my long-suffering mother, who was obliged to give up using gas in this bathroom, for very often the owls put it out by flying at it.

(27)

One never heard them coming. I did not before this realize how noiseless the flight of an owl is. One did not dream they were near till there was a breath of air fanning one’s cheek. After we gave up the gas, for fear they would burn themselves, we decided to use a candle. It was absolutely necessary to have an unshaded light, for they would perch on any globe shading a flame, and would burn their feet.

The candle was more fun for them than the gas, for it had a smaller flame, and was more easily extinguished, and usually on entering the room, away would go the light, and we would hear in the corner a laughing voice, saying “Too, who, who, who, who!”

The best joke of all for the owls was to put out the candle when one was taking a bath, and I must say I heard considerable grumbling from the family on the subject. It seemed impossible to shade the light from them, and to find one’s self in the dark in the midst of a good splash, to have to emerge from the tub, dripping and cross, and search for matches, was certainly not calculated to add to one’s affection for Solomon and Betsy. However, they were members of the family, and as George Eliot says, “The members of your family are like the nose on your face—you have got to put up with it, seeing you can’t get rid of it.”

Alas! the time soon came when we had to lament the death of one of our troublesome but beloved pets.

Betsy one day partook heartily of a raw fish head,(28) and in spite of remedies applied, sickened rapidly and sank into a dying condition.

I was surprised to find what a hold the little thing had taken on my affection. When her soft, gray body became cold, I held her in my hand close to the fire and, with tears in my eyes, wished for a miracle to restore her to health.

She lay quietly until just before she died. Then she opened her eyes and I called to the other members of the family to come and see their strange expression. They became luminous and beautiful, and dilated in a peculiar way. We hear of the eyes of dying persons lighting up wonderfully, and this strange illumination of little Betsy’s eyes reminded me of such cases.

Even after death she lay with those wide-open eyes, and feeling that I had lost a friend, I put down her little dead body. It was impossible for me to conceal my emotion, and my mother, who had quite forgotten Betsy’s hostility to her, generously took the little feathered creature to a taxidermist.

I may say that Betsy was the first and last bird I shall ever have stuffed. I dare say the man did the work as well as it could be done, but I gazed in dismay at my Betsy when she came home. That stiff little creature sitting on a stick, with glazed eyes and motionless body, could not be the pretty little bird whose every motion was grace. Ever since the day of Betsy’s death, I can feel no admiration for a dead bird. Indeed, I turn sometimes with a shudder(29) from the agonized postures, the horrible eyes of birds in my sister women’s hats—and yet I used to wear them myself. My present conviction shows what education will do. If you like and study live birds, you won’t want to wear dead ones.

After Betsy’s death Solomon seemed so lonely that I resolved to buy him a companion. I chose a robin, and bought him for two dollars from a woman who kept a small shop. A naturalist friend warned me that I would have trouble, but I said remonstratingly, “My owl is not like other owls. He has been brought up like a baby. He does not know that his ancestors killed little birds.”

Alas! When my robin had got beautifully tame, when he would hop about after me, and put his pretty head on one side while I dug in the earth for worms for him, when he was apparently on the best of terms with Sollie, I came home one day to a dreadful discovery. Sollie was flying about with the robin’s body firmly clutched in one claw. He had killed and partly eaten him. I caught him, took the robin away from him, and upbraided him severely.

“Too, who, who, who who,” he said—apologetically, it seemed to me, “instinct was too strong for me. I got tired of playing with him, and thought I would see what he tasted like.”

I could not say too much to him. What about the innocent lambs and calves, of which Sollie’s owners had partaken?

(30)

I had a fine large place in the basement for keeping pets, with an earth floor, and a number of windows, and I did not propose to have Sollie murder all the birds I might acquire. So, one end of this room was wired off for him. He had a window in this cage overlooking the garden, and it was large enough for me to go in and walk about, while talking to him. He seemed happy enough there, and while gazing into the garden or watching the rabbits, guineapigs, and other pets in the large part of the room, often indulged in long, contented spells of cooing—not hooting.

In 1902 I was obliged to leave him for a six months’ trip to Europe. He was much petted by my sister, and I think spent most of his time upstairs with the family. When I returned home I brought, among other birds, a handsome Brazil cardinal. I stood admiring him as he stepped out of his traveling cage and flew around the aviary. Unfortunately, instead of choosing a perch, he flattened himself against the wire netting in Sollie’s corner.

I was looking right at him and the owl, and I never saw anything but lightning equal the celerity of Sollie’s flight, as he precipitated himself against the netting and caught at my cardinal’s showy red crest. The cardinal screamed like a baby, and I ran to release him, marveling that the owl could so insinuate his little claws through the fine mesh of the wire. However, he could do it, and he gripped the struggling cardinal by the long, hair-like(31) topknot, until I uncurled the wicked little claws. A bunch of red feathers fell to the ground, and the dismayed cardinal flew into a corner.

“Sollie,” I said, going into his cage and taking him in my hand, “how could you be so cruel to that new bird?”

“Oh, coo, coo, coo, coo,” he replied in a delightfully soft little voice, and gently resting his naughty little beak against my face. “You had better come upstairs,” I said, “I am afraid to leave you down here with that poor cardinal. You will be catching him again.”

He cooed once more. This just suited him, and he spent the rest of his life in regions above. I knew that he would probably not live as long in captivity as he would have done if his lot had been cast in the California foothills. His life was too unnatural. In their native state, owls eat their prey whole, and after a time disgorge pellets of bones, feathers, hairs, and scales, the remnants of food that cannot be digested.

My owls, on account of their upbringing, wanted their food cleaned for them. Betsy, one day, after much persuasion, swallowed a mouse to oblige me, but she was such a dismal picture as she sat for a long time with the tail hanging out of her beak that I never offered her another.

I tried to keep Solomon in condition by giving him, or forcing him to take, foreign substances, but my plan only worked for a time.

(32)

I always dreaded the inevitable, and one winter day in 1903 I looked sharply at him, as he called to me when I entered the house after being away for a few hours. “That bird is ill!” I said.

No other member of the family saw any change in him, but when one keeps birds and becomes familiar with the appearance of each one, they all have different facial and bodily expressions, and one becomes extremely susceptible to the slightest change. As I examined Sollie, my heart sank within me, and I began to inquire what he had been eating. He had partaken freely of boiled egg, meat, and charcoal. I gave him a dose of olive oil, and I must say that the best bird or beast to take medicine is an owl. Neither he nor Betsy ever objected in the l

anond:20240611003300

peace and quietness of the night after the turmoil of the day, were hooting persistently and melodiously.

“The landlady and the boarders,” gasped my sister; “they will hear and wake up. Can’t you stop the little wretches?”

I sprang out of bed, and addressed a solemn remonstrance to Solomon and Betsy. They were exceedingly glad to see me, and distending their little throats, continued to hoot, their clear, sweet young voices carrying only too well on the still Californian night air.

Then the chipmunk woke up and began to slide up and down an inclined piece of wood in his part of the cage. We were in despair. We could not sleep, until I had the happy thought of giving the owls a bath. I seized Betsy, held her in a basin of water, and wet her feathers considerably. Then I served Solomon in the same way, and for the rest of the night the tiny little things occupied themselves in smoothing their wet plumage. The chipmunk quieted down, and we had peace.

(19)

When we got into the cottage I had a carpenter build a small aviary at the back of it, with a box for rainy weather. The nights were not too cold for my hardy birds. Indeed, they were not too cold for many semi-tropical ones. I found a bird fancier not far from me, who had built a good-sized, open-air aviary, where he kept canaries and foreign finches all the year round, with only a partly open, glass shelter for the birds to use when it rained.

My sparrowhawk did not seem unhappy in my aviary, but he never had the contented, comfortable expression that the owls had. His apathy was pathetic, and the expression of his beautiful, cruel eyes was an unsatisfied one. In time, I should have allowed him to go, but suddenly he fell ill. I think I overfed him, for I got him into the habit of taking a late supper, always leaning out the window and handing him a piece of meat on the end of a stick before I went to bed.

I brought him into the warm kitchen, where he moped about for a few days. Just before he died he came hopping toward the parlor, where I sat entertaining a friend. I often took him in there on the broad windowsill and talked to him as I sat sewing.

He stood in the doorway, gave me a peculiar look, as if to say, “I would come in if you were alone,” hopped back to the kitchen, and in a short time was no more.

My sister and I mourned sincerely for our pretty bird, and I had the uncomfortable feeling that I(20) might have done better if I had left him in his own habitat—but then he might have starved to death if his parents had not found him. Would death by starvation have been any more painful than his death with me? Possibly some larger creature might have killed him swiftly and mercifully—it was a puzzling case, and I resolved to give up worrying about it. I had done what I considered was best, and I tried to console myself for his death in petting the dear little owls that had become so tame that they called to my sister and me whenever they saw us, and loved to have us take them in our hands and caress them.

About them I had no misgivings. They would certainly have died if I had not adopted them, and there was no question about their happiness. They were satisfied with a state of captivity. They had so far lost one of their owl habits, for they kept awake nearly all day, and slept nearly all night—and they could see quite well in the most brilliant Californian sunlight, and that is pretty brilliant. A cat or a dog many yards distant would cause them to raise excitedly the queer little ear tufts that play so prominent a part in the facial expression of some owls, and they would crack their beaks together and hiss angrily if the enemy came too near.

Cats and dogs frightened them, and a broom merely excited them. When strangers wanted to see the elevation of these tufts, a broom, swiftly passed over the floor, would cause Solomon and(21) Betsy to become very wide awake, with feather tufts straight up in the air. I never saw them abjectly and horribly frightened but once. A lady had brought her handsome parrot into the room where the owls were. The poor little mites put up their ear tufts, swayed to and fro on their perch, and instead of packing their feathers and becoming thin and elongated in appearance, as they did for cats and dogs, they puffed themselves out, snapped their beaks, and uttered the loudest hissing noise I had ever heard from them.

From their extremity of fear I concluded that their instinct told them this danger was so imminent that they must make themselves as formidable as possible.

The parrot was of course quickly removed, and I took care that they should never again see another one.

2024-06-05

anond:20240605080009

I know, but absolute anonymity only enables brain damaged behaviors, there has to be a reason why pseudonymous social media had *completely* replaced anonymous ones in this country; this style is harmful to all, even to those brain damaged. It's like feeding all-I-can-eat Gianism hubbies with their daughter's snack vault. Just letting these bad behaviors naturally filtered out and excluded could make this place way, like way better.

2024-05-30

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Email: While direct email might not be prominently featured, you can often use the contact form on the Qatar website to send an email to their customer service department.

Social Media: Qatar has a customer service Twitter account (@Qatar Help), where you can send direct messages or mention them in a tweet for assistance.

Before reaching out, it's helpful to have your booking information readily available to expedite the support process. Due to high demand, wait times can vary, so consider the urgency of your inquiry when choosing how to contact them.

Alternative Contact Methods

While direct calls may be preferable for immediate assistance, Qatar also provides alternative methods to reach out for support. This includes email support, where you can detail your concerns and queries; the live chat feature, offering real-time assistance; and social media platforms, where Qatar 's responsiveness is both effective and timely. Exploring these options can offer convenience and flexibility based on your specific needs.

Understanding Qatar 's Support Structure

Navigating customer support can sometimes feel like a maze. Understanding Qatar 's support structure is key to directing your concerns to the right department. This section breaks down the organizational structure of Qatar 's customer service, offering insights into each department's function and tips on how to escalate your concerns effectively.

Tips for a Smooth Qatar Support Experience

A smooth support experience with Qatar is not just about reaching out; it's also about how you communicate. This includes preparing your booking information beforehand, being clear and concise with your queries, and having patience throughout the process. These tips are designed to enhance your interaction with Qatar 's customer service, +11||833||563||0205. or +11||833||563||0205 (Live agent) ensuring your concerns are addressed efficiently.

Common Issues Handled by Qatar Support

From booking amendments to cancellations and refunds, and troubleshooting technical issues, Qatar 's customer service handles a wide array of concerns. This section outlines the most common issues customers face and how Qatar 's support team addresses them, providing you with a clearer expectation of the assistance available.

Maximizing the Use of Qatar 's FAQ Section

Before reaching out for personal assistance, exploring Qatar 's FAQ section can be incredibly helpful. This section guides you through navigating the FAQ, highlighting how to find answers to common questions quickly and efficiently, potentially saving you time and effort.

Feedback: Improving Qatar 's Customer Service

Your feedback is crucial in shaping the future of Qatar 's customer service +11||833||563||0205. or +11||833||563||0205 (Live agent). This part of the article explains how to submit feedback about your support experience and the impact it has on improving service quality, ensuring that your voice is heard and valued. To talk to a Person at Qatar Customer Service for live support, You can call their Qatar customer service 24/7 Hotline Number USA:- +11||833||563||0205.(Live Person) or +11||833||563||0205 (𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐 𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖈𝖙), engage in a live chat on their website, or use email support.

Future of Customer Support at Qatar

2024-05-26

Hey guys, did you know that in terms of male human and female Pokémon breeding, Vaporeon is the most compatible Pokémon for humans? Not only are they in the field egg group, which is mostly comprised of mammals, Vaporeon are an average of 3"03' tall and 63.9 pounds. this means they're large enough to be able to handle human d--ks, and with their impressive Base Stats for HP and access to Acid Armor, you can be rough with one. Due to their mostly water based biology, there's no doubt in my mind that an aroused Vaporeon would be incredibly wet, so wet that you could easily have sex with one for hours without getting sore. They can also learn the moves Attract, Baby-Doll Eyes, Captivate, Charm, and Tail Whip, along with not having fur to hide nipples, so it'd be incredibly easy for one to get you in the mood. With their abilities Water Absorb and Hydration, they can easily recover from fatigue with enough water. No other Pokémon comes close to this level of compatibility. Also, fun fact, if you pull out enough, you can make your Vaporeon turn white.

anond:20240526162044

Doesn't make any sense. Your English is so bad. Sooooo bad. Really. I don't know what you're talking about.

2024-05-24

anond:20240524124255

Whores in this house

There’s some whores in this house

There’s some whores in this house

There’s some whores in this house

ビッチがいるぞ

この家にはビッチがいる

この家にはビッチがいる

この家にはビッチがいる


I said certified freak, sevendays a week

Wet and gushy, make that pullout game weak, woo

イカれた女って認められてるの 週7日稼働してる

濡れたマンコ あなたは抜くのも嫌になるわ


Yeah, you dealin’ with some wet and gushy

Bring a bucket and a mop for this wet and gushy

Give me everything you got for this wet and gushy

あなたはびしょ濡れのマンコに入れたいのよね

バケツとモップを持ってきてよ

マンコのためなら何でもくれるよね


Beat it up, baby, catch a charge

Extra large and extra hard

Put this cookie right in your face

Swipe your nose like a credit card

Hop on top, I wanna ride

I do a kegel, I’m kinda wild

Look at my mouth, look at my thighs

This water is wet, come take a dive

激しく突いて 違法なくらいに

大きさも硬さも普通じゃないわね

マンコをあなたの顔へ乗せたら

あなたの鼻をクレジットカードみたいにスワイプして

上に乗ってあげる

中に入れてる時は ケーゲル体操するの

口に唾を吐いて 私を見つめて

マンコは濡れてるからダイブしてよ

2024-05-20

Are people really uncomfortable about All-gender Restrooms?

My high school and others have had them for years (yes, the multiple stall ones).

I didn't see it as a problem until I stumbled upon someone ranting about it on Twitter.

I usually just don't go in there since it's often crowded.

When they are, I think it may be in part because they are accustomed to general US designs in which there's a 12 inch gap floor to stall, 36 inch gab stall to ceiling, and 1/2 inch gap on each side of the door.

The lack of privacy is uncomfortable (at least for me) in any restroom.

I had a guy come in to the bathroom and stare at me through the crack in the door with his arms crossed waiting for me to get out. I hate American bathrooms so much

You want to know the secret?

Business's don't want to have a constantly shit in luxury bathroom to maintain but they know having a bathroom is good for customer relations so they make a bathroom that nobody wants to use.

I have not taken a dump in a public bathroom in at least 10 years. Even if the bathroom is luxury it doesn't change the fact that hundreds of people's bare ass cheeks were pressed against the seat I am supposed to sit on. No amount of permeable paper is going to ease my mind on that one.

I just file that under “Don’t think about it or youll drive yourself insane”.

Top of that list: Doorknobs.

2024-05-16

anond:20240516231627

これとまったくおんなじこと思って evilify でググったわ

https://twitter.com/ThinaticSystem/status/1756713821757219221

エビリファイがevilify(悪者にする)なんていう物騒な名前なのが不思議で調べたらable + ifyで「〜できるようにする」(本当の英語だとmake O Cで表現されるやつ)って由来らしい

2024-05-10

私は2022年6月8日から203号室の住人であり、202号室に誰が入居しているのか知りませんし、あなたの顔も見たことがありませんし、今回あなた警察官110番通報し、警察官が外のベランダに立っていた時に初めてあなたを見ました。常識的見地から、会ったこともない隣の部屋の入居者に大音量ラジオを聞かせるような人はこの世に存在しない。あなたの部屋から2024年4月7日に大声が聞こえて、あなたの部屋から誰かが飛び出して外で騒いで部屋に戻って来たのを聞いた。従って、あなたの部屋には、中国人女性が一緒に住んでいると考えていた。さらに、2024年1月9日には、202号室には、あなたとは違う男性が出入りしていた。以上のことを総合的に考えて、2024年5月10日の昼間の時点で、あなたの部屋に向けてラジオ大音量で流す合理的理由がない。あなたは以上のことの説明を受けたときに怒り出す性格をしているが、精神疾患か何かがあるのではないか。また、私は、201号室に誰が住んでいるのかも知らないし、201号室の人とも202号室の人とも顔を見たことがないし話をしたこともない。2024年5月10日に何回も203号室からラジオの音が聞こえてきたと言っているが、それに対して、そんなに怒る必要性があることであるのか。

 I have been a resident of room 203 since June 8, 2022, I do not know who occupies room 202, I have never seen your face, and this time I saw you for the first time when you called the police officer 110 and the officer was standing outside on the balcony. From a common sense standpoint, there is no one in this world who would allow a loud radio to be played by a resident of the next room who has never met you. I heard loud voices coming from your room on April 7, 2024 and heard someone run out of your room, make noise outside and come back into your room. Therefore, you believed that a Chinese man and a woman were living together in your room. Furthermore, on January 9, 2024, a man different from you was in and out of Room 202. Taking all of the above into consideration, there was no reasonable reason to play the radio loudly toward your room as of midday on May 10, 2024. You have a personality that becomes angry when the above is explained to you, but you must have a mental illness or something. I also do not know who lives in room 201, and I have never seen or talked to anyone in room 201 or 202, and you say that you heard the radio from room 203 several times on May 10, 2024, and that there is a need to get so angry about it Is that something you need to be so angry about?

anond:20240510134203

お前がトランプの言う"Make America Great Again"の意味理解できてないだけ。

せめてラーメン屋さんはテンションぶち上がる曲を流して欲しい

旅先とかで美味しいラーメンさんに出会うと

それは嬉しいんだけど

歌詞ものすごく暗いバラードが流れてくるだけでラーメン塩味になりそうになる

いや、backnumberとかもいいんだけど

たまにはEDMとかを爆音で流してくれんかなぁ

田舎ラーメン屋でロッキーテーマ流してた

G系ラーメン屋はなんか楽しかったなあ

家族の中で私しか完食出来なかったんだけど

つーわけで勝手に流れてたら私が喜ぶ曲を

下に書いとくね

Hellcat/Desmeon
混沌ブギ/Jon-YAKITORY
FREEDOM/Ado
re:make/ONEOKROCK
NOT FOUND /Mr.Children
スパークガールシンドローム/日向電工
VS /福山雅治
大都会/クリスタルキング

2024-05-06

Dinosaur T-Rex Game

Description

Every web user has at least once encountered loss of internet connection. This happens for a variety of reasons, such as a dysfunction in the cellular network or a broken internet cable. However, regardless of the reason, every Google Chrome user sees the Dino game (when there is no internet) instead of a plain blank error page. This game can be played without an internet connection.

Play game: Dinosaur T-Rex Game

Despite the fact that the game is just a plain runner that’s built into the Google Chrome browser, the developers behind it still deserve a round of applause. The peculiar monochrome graphics and the simplicity make the game even better, and it has gained a lot of worldwide fans since its launch.

The main character of the game is a classic dinosaur, a Tyrannosaurus rex, the species we usually see in movies and books about dinosaurs. It’s a carnivorous type of dinosaur from the Cretaceous. In the game it runs through the desert, encountering pterodactyls and cactuses that need to be avoided by jumping or ducking. As the distance the dinosaur has traveled increases, so does its speed, which is why it’s quite difficult for an inexperienced player to get a high score, even though the game itself seems easy.

Surely, all of you are curious about the development of the Chrome Dinosaur Game Online, so let’s take a little trip back in time.

History Google Dinosaur Game

The development of the T-Rex game dates back to September 2014, however, the final improvements were completed only in December of that same year. The adjustments supported earlier versions of the Android operating system.

Sebastien Gabriel, one of the designers of the game, says that the T-rex was chosen as a funny reference to "prehistoric times", when highspeed internet wasn’t so widely spread.

The T-rex was also not an accidental choice. The offline Chrome Dino game (without internet) was also called "Project Bolan", referring to the popular singer Mark Bolan from the 70s band "T-Rex". While creating the game the programmers also thought about making Dino growl or kick. Eventually these features were rejected in order to keep the game simple and "prehistoric".

How to open the T-Rex Chrome Dino Game?

In order to open the game you can simply type chrome://dino/ in the address bar. The game will open even if you’re connected to the internet, so there’s no need to disconnect.

The majority of internet users have Chrome as their default browser. However, if you’re using a different one, our website can help. Here you can play the T-Rex Dinosaur Game using any browser and any device, like a desktop computer or even your cell phone.

2024-04-20

anond:20240420040712

とりあえず、CDCといくつかの国などのデータ見たけど、ワイが最後にチェックした、1年半くらい前とあんま状況は変わっていなさそう

コピペすんの面倒だからCDCだけにするけど、変異株にも効果有りで54%となってて、他でも似た様なもんだから

やっぱ、壁の効果はあるんじゃない?(ワイはこれからも打たんけど)

The virus that causes COVID-19 will continue to evolve

For viruses to survive they must continually make copies of themselves and infect new cells. Like other viruses, SARS-CoV-2, the virus that causes COVID-19, will continue to evolve because it makes errors, or mutations, when it is creating copies. Some mutations help the virus survive better or spread more easily, leading to different variants over time. During the analysis period, many different variants were infecting people.

 

(新型コロナウイルス感染症COVID-19)の原因となるウイルス進化し続けます

ウイルス生存するためには、継続的自己複製し、新しい細胞感染する必要があります。他のウイルスと同様に、COVID-19を引き起こすSARS-CoV-2も、複製時にエラー変異を起こすことで進化を続けます。一部の変異ウイルス生存拡散を容易にし、時間とともに様々な変異株を生み出します。分析間中、多くの異なる変異株が人々に感染しました。)

 

Updated COVID-19 vaccine protects against many variants

CDC data show that vaccination offered significant protection. People who received the updated COVID-19 vaccine were 54% less likely to get COVID-19 during the four-month period from mid-September to January. The vaccine provided similar levels of protection against XBB lineage variants and the JN.1 variant.

 

To estimate vaccine effectiveness of the updated COVID-19 vaccine, CDC analyzed data from the Increasing Community Access to Testing (ICATT) COVID-19 pharmacy testing program. The protection provided by the updated vaccine was compared to not receiving an updated vaccine, regardless of a person’s infection history or the number of previous COVID-19 vaccines they received. That means these estimates reflect the additional protection provided by getting an updated COVID-19 vaccine dose above protection that people have from any previous vaccination, infection, or both.

 

(新型コロナウイルス感染症COVID-19)ワクチンは多くの変異株に対して保護提供しま

CDCデータによると、ワクチン接種は大きな予防効果をもたらしました。最新のCOVID-19ワクチンを受けた人々は、9月中旬から1月までの4ヶ月間にCOVID-19に感染するリスクが54%低下しました。このワクチンは、XBB系統やJN.1変異株など、多くの変異株に対して同様の保護レベル提供しました。

 

最新のCOVID-19ワクチン有効性を推定するために、CDCはICATT COVID-19薬局検査プログラムデータ分析しました。 最新のワクチンによる保護効果は、最新のワクチンを受けていない人々と比較されました。これは、個人感染歴や以前に受けたCOVID-19ワクチンの回数に関わらずです。つまり、これらの推定値は、以前のワクチン接種や感染から得られる保護に加えて、最新のCOVID-19ワクチン接種によって提供される追加の保護を反映しています。)

 

 

COVID-19 Vaccine Effectiveness|February 1, 2024, 1:05 PM EDT|CDC

https://www.cdc.gov/ncird/whats-new/covid-19-vaccine-effectiveness.html

2024-04-18

anond:20240418062200

いまならわかるも何も、最初から常識で考えろって奴やな

 

でもまぁ人柱及び人壁になってくれた人のおかげで感染が広がらず、

高齢者や基礎疾患のある人にめちゃくちゃ広がらず犠牲が抑えられたはあるだろうから

ああだこうだ言うのは違う気がする

 

再放送

2020-02-22 | W・イアン・リプキン教授(疫学、神経学および病理学の人。SARSとか研究してたらしい) いわく https://anond.hatelabo.jp/20200222143917#

2020-12-18 |https://anond.hatelabo.jp/20201218213410#

副反応がないワクチンなんて存在しないので

ワイなんかインフルエンザワクチンで死にかけたことある

まぁ実際に脳炎肺炎・多臓器不全になったわけじゃあないので

死にかけたは比喩だが39度以上の熱が3日以上続いた。フツーにインフルってますやんクソがと思ったわ

 

一般的安全性確認されているものでもこのレベルなので

コロナなら間違いなく重症化する人出るやろな

ワイは打たんぞ

2020-12-18|https://anond.hatelabo.jp/20201218222743#

逆に副反応出ても今なら国からふんだくれるから俺は打つ

たぶん出ないと思うぞ

インフルエンザワクチンの接種で死んでる人はほぼ毎年いて公的機関統計取ってるが

『疑い』って表現にとどめてるし、そもそもおま環だから

すべての人にアレルギーが出ない食べ物が無いのと同じように

すべての人に重篤副反応絶対に出ないワクチンとか

安全性確認され誰もが打ってる知名度高いワクチンにすらない

すべての人に問題が出ないことを保証するものではありませんってヤツ

アレルギー対応商品にもよく書かれてるね

研究時間が長ければ、接種の実績の積み重ねがあれば、

基礎疾患がある人はなんて雑な括りではなく、○○がある人は○○%の確率重症化すると通達・備えるけど

今は出来たばっかで無いからな

 

致死率がめっちゃ高いウイルスだったらワクチン打つけどそうじゃないのでしばらくは様子見するわ

2022-07-22 |ワイくんはコロナはただの風邪派じゃ無いけど反ワクやが? https://anond.hatelabo.jp/20220722132004#

致死率が高いウイルスじゃないのに打つ理由がない

副反応でえらいことになる方がコロナ死ぬ確率よりずっと高い

同じコロナウイルスの例↓

[ナショジオ] MERSワクチン、開発が進まない理由

https://natgeo.nikkeibp.co.jp/nng/article/news/14/9272/?ST=m_news


コロンビア大学メイルマン公衆衛生大学院、ジョン・スノウ教授同大学院感染症・免疫学センターディレクターを務めるW・イアン・リプキン(W. Ian Lipkin)氏は、

「もし世界中の全ての人にワクチンを接種するとしたら、ある人がワクチンに対して副作用を起こす可能性は、MERS発症する可能性よりも高いだろう」と話す。


◆予防の鍵はラクダ


 SARSときにはウイルス媒介する動物駆除制圧を早めたように、MERSさらなる感染拡大を止めることが何より望まれるという点では誰もが一致している。


 リプキン氏は、最も有効なのがラクダだと期待する。MERSの予防ワクチンを人に接種するのではなく、感染拡大の鍵を握っているらしいラクダへの接種に焦点を移した方がよい。「宿主としてのラクダを根絶すれば、MERSを抑え込む合理的な一撃になるだろう」とリプキン氏。


 ラクダワクチンの開発であれば、人間ワクチンの開発よりも安く、早く、容易に実現するだろうし、人間場合に比べて安全性懸念も小さいとリプキン氏は話す。

 

既に在宅勤務ならぶっちゃけ接種する個人的メリットはない

コロナが落ち着くまで今後も定期的にワクチン打ち続けるとかどんなリスクがあるかわからない

ただ接種しないのはフリーライド(他者治験ボランティアさせてる、他者に壁を作ってもらってる)なので
わざわざ口にしないは当然かと思われる

 

なお、ワクチンに対して強硬姿勢をとってるように報道されてる米国企業はお客と接する現場従業員(スーパー店員など)・倉庫作業者に接種を別に義務付けてねーぞ

理由は離職の増加や求職者の減少を防ぐため

義務付けられてるのはまさかオフィスワーカーだけ。ついでに在宅ワーク続けるなら接種の必要無し

▼Some companies are mandating vaccines — but not for front-line workers

https://www.vox.com/the-goods/2021/8/19/22629327/employee-vaccine-mandate-walmart-uber-lyft

 

Walmart, for example, will require all of its corporate and regional staff to be vaccinated against Covid-19 by October 4 unless they have an “approved exception,” namely, a religious or medical reason not to be vaccinated. But it isn’t asking the same of store associates and warehouse workers, to whom it is instead offering a $150 incentive for getting vaccinated (it previously offered $75) and paid time off.

たとえばウォルマートは、「承認された例外」、つまり宗教上または医療上の理由予防接種を受けない場合を除き、10月4日までに法人および地域スタッフ全員にCOVID-19の予防接種を受けるよう義務づける。

しかし、店舗従業員倉庫作業員には同じことを求めず、代わりにワクチン接種で150ドル奨励金(以前は75ドルだった)と有給休暇提供するとしている。

 

But right now your largest ones, Amazon and Walmart, are not mandating it for their line staff. If they were to make that call, my guess is that lots of other companies would follow suit.

しかし、今現在、最大手Amazonウォルマートは、ラインスタッフ義務付けてはいません。もし彼らがそうすれば、他の多くの企業もそれに追随するでしょうね。

As New Variants Emerge, We Continue To Focus on the Safety and Well-Being of Our Associates | Walmart

https://corporate.walmart.com/newsroom/2021/12/01/as-new-variants-emerge-we-continue-to-focus-on-the-safety-and-well-being-of-our-associates

 

We’re pleased that more than 90% of our campus office associates have been fully vaccinated. While vaccines are not required at this time for frontline associates who work in our stores,

コーポレートキャンパスの90%以上の社員ワクチン接種を完了していることを嬉しく思います

店舗で働く最前線アソシエイトには、現時点ではワクチン必要ありませんが、

2024-04-07

anond:20240407141259

Hey guys, did you know that in terms of male human and female Pokémon breeding, Vaporeon is the most compatible Pokémon for humans? Not only are they in the field egg group, which is mostly comprised of mammals, Vaporeon are an average of 3"03' tall and 63.9 pounds. this means they're large enough to be able to handle human dicks, and with their impressive Base stats for HP and access to Acid Armor, you can be rough with one. Due to their mostly water based biology, there's no doubt in my mind that an aroused Vaporeon would be incredibly wet, so wet that you could easily have sex with one for hours without getting sore. They can also learn the moves Attract, Baby-Doll eyes, Captivate, Charm and Tail Whip along with not having fur to hide nipples, so it'd be incredibly easy for one to get you in the mood. With their abilities Water Absorb and Hydration, they can easily recover from fatigue with enough water. No other Pokémon comes close with this level of compatibility. Also, fun fact, if you pull out enough, you can make your Vaporeon turn white. Vaporeon is literally built for human dick. Ungodly defense stat + high HP pool + Acid Armor means it can take cock all day, all shapes and sizes and still come for more.

2024-04-06

「99.9%は再発見」の法則

新規発見というものは珍しい

大抵はすでに発見されているものを再発見した結果である

しかしこの数字の罠に騙されないでほしい

まり0.1%新規発見なのである

この1000に1の逸材こそが、斬新なものを作り上げていく

残りの99.9%については、伝え方や質の改善ぐらいしかやることは残されていない

なぜ映像キレイ作品がつまらいかというと「既存アイデアの組み合わせ」をキレイに見せているだけだから

本当に高IQの人たちは「クソ」と評価された作品を好んで見る傾向にある

これは「クソ」な映画作品が、実際には新規アイデアの宝庫だから

以下の記事でも高IQ者がクソ映画を好むことについて詳しく説明しているので参考にしてほしい

Love of trashy films linked with above-average intelligence, study says. Preferring Mega Shark versus Crocosaurus to Citizen Kane doesn't make you a cultural retrograde – it actually suggests you have above-average education and a preference for arthouse cinema. https://www.wired.com/story/trashy-films-clever-people/

Close your head

Close your eyes…」「Close your head…
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Close your eyes... Close your head...
say, what you saw. you can see with mind.
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I saw... darkness. My mind's eye is a void, devoid of sight.
i can light you.
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Light me then.
<*click*> i light you now. then, what you see? you can see with mind.
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I see a dimly lit room. Shadows dance on the walls, and a faint, eerie glow permeates the space.
Shadow of what?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The shadows seem to take form, twisting and contorting into strange, indistinct shapes. It's as if they are the embodiment of forgotten fears and hidden desires.
Do you have any idea who is showing it?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I have no idea. The source of these shadows remains hidden, shrouded in mystery and intrigue.
OK, let's leave the mysterious and scary shadow behind. What else can you see in this room?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: In this dimly lit room, I can make out a cluttered assortment of objects. There's an old, tattered book lying open on a dusty table, its pages filled with arcane symbols. A moth-eaten rug covers a portion of the floor, and a cracked mirror hangs on one wall, reflecting distorted images. The air carries a musty scent, and I sense an atmosphere of abandonment and neglect.
You pick book and check it
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I reach out and pick up the old book. Its pages feel brittle and fragile in my hands. As I flip through the pages, the text appears to be written in a language I can't comprehend, filled with cryptic symbols and diagrams. It's a tome of secrets, but its meaning remains elusive.
see book cover
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I examine the cover of the book, trying to discern any details despite the dim light. The cover is worn and weathered, and it bears an intricate design of what appears to be a coiled serpent, its scales formed from shimmering, iridescent colors. Above the serpent, there's a title in elegant script, but it's written in a language I can't decipher. The book exudes an aura of mystique and ancient knowledge.
Is there a place to go? What about the door?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I turn my attention to the room's exit, the door. It stands tall and imposing, made of heavy, dark wood. There's a tarnished doorknob, and the door appears to be slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of what lies beyond. It beckons me to explore further, promising unknown adventures or perhaps even more mysteries.
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I approach the door and grasp the tarnished doorknob. With a gentle push, the door creaks open, revealing a corridor shrouded in shadows. The faint glow from the room behind me barely penetrates the darkness ahead. I step cautiously into the corridor, ready to uncover the secrets that lie beyond.
foward.
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I proceed forward down the shadowy corridor, my footsteps echoing faintly in the dimness. The path ahead seems endless, and the air grows cooler as I delve deeper into the unknown, guided only by the flickering light behind me and the anticipation of what awaits.
foward and look around
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Continuing down the corridor, I take a moment to look around. The walls are lined with faded, tattered tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and mythical creatures. The torch sconces that once held flames have long since burned out, leaving only empty brackets. The air feels heavy with history, and there's a faint, eerie whispering that seems to emanate from the walls themselves, as if they hold secrets untold.
keep going until you discover something
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I press on, the corridor seemingly endless. My journey is shrouded in uncertainty, but I persist, driven by the need to discover what lies ahead. The shadows deepen, and the air grows colder as I continue, my curiosity and determination unwavering.
stop! you here that?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I halt in my tracks, straining my ears to listen. There's a faint, distant sound, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. It's indistinct, but it holds a mysterious allure, beckoning me to investigate further.
listen carefully
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I listen intently, my senses sharpened as I focus on the elusive sound. It becomes clearer, a haunting melody that seems to weave through the very air itself. It's both captivating and eerie, drawing me closer to its source with each haunting note.
who play that?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The source of the haunting melody remains elusive, hidden in the shadows. It's as if the music emanates from the very walls, an ethereal presence that defies explanation. There is no visible musician, yet the music continues to fill the corridor, casting a spell of enchantment and mystery.
Head to the source of the sound and investigate (dice roll)
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I heed the roll of the dice and embark on a quest to trace the source of the haunting melody. Each step takes me closer to the enchanting sound, and as I round a corner in the corridor, I come upon a door, slightly ajar, from which the music seems to emanate. My heart races with anticipation as I push the door open, eager to unveil the secrets that lie within.
When you open the door, there...
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: When I open the door, there stands a grand chamber bathed in an otherworldly glow. In the center of the room, an ornate grand piano commands attention. The keys move on their own, playing the haunting melody that had drawn me here. But there's no one at the piano.The room is adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded mirrors, reflecting the surreal scene before me. Candlelit chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across the walls. The air is filled with an intoxicating fragrance, a mix of ancient incense and delicate flowers.At the far end of the room, a figure cloaked in shadows stands beside an enormous, antique bookshelf filled with tomes of forgotten knowledge. Their presence is enigmatic, and their intentions remain unclear.
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I approach the grand piano, its keys still playing the haunting melody. As I inspect it, I notice that there are no visible hands or fingers touching the keys. It's as if the piano itself is possessed by some unseen force, creating the music with an ethereal touch.The piano is a masterpiece of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate carvings and inlaid with precious gemstones. Its keys are made of polished ivory, and they move in perfect harmony with the haunting tune. It's a surreal and mesmerizing sight, leaving me both entranced and bewildered.
Be careful, it might be a man-eating piano.
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: I heed the caution and approach the grand piano with caution. Although it plays on its own, I remain wary of its mysterious nature. The possibility of a man-eating piano lingers in my mind, adding an extra layer of tension to the already surreal scene.
the piano suddenly stops
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The abrupt halt of the piano's music sends a shiver down my spine. The chamber falls into an eerie silence, broken only by the flickering candlelight. It's as if the very essence of the room holds its breath, waiting for what comes next.
You feel disgusted and turn around. What happened?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: As I turn around, a wave of revulsion washes over me. My senses reel in disgust at the sight before me. The figure that had been cloaked in shadows has now revealed itself, and it is a grotesque, nightmarish entity. Its form is a twisted amalgamation of human and beast, with grotesque, elongated limbs and a maw of sharp, jagged teeth.The once opulent chamber has transformed into a nightmarish lair, with walls adorned in macabre art and gruesome trophies. The air is thick with the stench of decay and despair. I am trapped in a surreal and horrifying nightmare, unable to escape the clutches of this abomination.
it scary. what will you do?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: Fear courses through me as I confront this nightmarish entity and its gruesome lair. In this realm of horrors, I must make a decision. I choose to... confront the entity, my curiosity and determination outweighing my fear, as I seek to uncover the mysteries and secrets that lie within this twisted nightmare.
how?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: With trembling resolve, I take a step forward, slowly approaching the grotesque entity. I attempt to communicate with it, asking it what it wants or why it has brought me here. My voice quivers, but my determination to unravel the enigma that surrounds this nightmarish realm remains steadfast.
any result?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: The grotesque entity regards me with malevolent, glowing eyes, its jagged maw twitching with an unsettling smile. It responds with a guttural, incomprehensible language, filled with whispers and hisses. It becomes apparent that communication with this entity is futile, and its intentions remain shrouded in darkness.As I continue to stand before this nightmarish being, I feel a growing sense of dread, realizing that escape may be the only option left.
surely. what will you do?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: With no hope of communication or understanding, and the nightmarish entity's menacing presence growing more oppressive, I decide to make a hasty retreat. I turn and rush toward the door through which I entered, driven by the instinct to escape the horrors of this surreal nightmare.
Did it go well? Or Bad?
ChatGPT
<rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light>: My escape from the nightmarish realm was fraught with tension and fear, but I managed to reach the door and slam it shut behind me. The grotesque entity and its horrifying lair were left behind, at least for the moment. Whether it went well or bad is a matter of perspective. I survived the encounter, but the mysteries and terrors of that surreal place still haunt my thoughts. The experience was a chilling reminder of the unknown and the horrors that can lurk within it.
look around

https://anond.hatelabo.jp/20240403160610#

2024-04-03

89 名前:🥹英ちゃん😉 (ワッチョイW 2386-CK/p) 2024/04/03(水) 04:05:45.97 ID:mOsZ+yw90

Ed Piskor committed suicide, people are choosing to believe the claims from people who had it out for him. Molly, girl they claimed he SA'd, tried correcting the claims.

91 名前:🥹英ちゃん😉 (ワッチョイW 2386-CK/p) 2024/04/03(水) 21:10:04.37 ID:mOsZ+yw90

To "have it out for someone" is to dislike someone to the point of trying to find excuses to fire them, punish them, or cause them trouble/pain.

It is usually said of someone in authority (teacher, boss, cop) or of equal rank (coworker).

"You can't trust her. She really has it out for you, and will twist anything you say to make you look bad in front of the boss.

92 名前名無しさん英語勉強中 (ワッチョイW 1b12-5W83) 2024/04/03(水) 21:21:30.82 ID:l+Htu6kT0

hàve [(英)have gòt] it ín for A

(くだけた話)A<人>を恨んで[嫌って]いる.

辞書に載っているか

そのinをoutに変えた感じかもね

anond:20240403155804

そうですね!やかましいですね!ところでウクライナ音楽ロシア音楽をかけ合わせたらどうなるでしょうか?とっても平和の響きがするでしょう!あなたの手持ちのイスラエルも混ぜてみましょうよよよよよよよよよよよよよよよ

<div class="conversation"><h4>Close your head</h4><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Close your eyes…」「Close your head…</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: Close your eyes... Close your head...</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>say, what you saw. you can see with mind.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I saw... darkness. My mind's eye is a void, devoid of sight.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>i can light you. </div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: Light me then.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>&lt;*click*&gt; i light you now. then, what you see? you can see with mind.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I see a dimly lit room. Shadows dance on the walls, and a faint, eerie glow permeates the space.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Shadow of what?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: The shadows seem to take form, twisting and contorting into strange, indistinct shapes. It's as if they are the embodiment of forgotten fears and hidden desires.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Do you have any idea who is showing it?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I have no idea. The source of these shadows remains hidden, shrouded in mystery and intrigue.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>OK, let's leave the mysterious and scary shadow behind. What else can you see in this room?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: In this dimly lit room, I can make out a cluttered assortment of objects. There's an old, tattered book lying open on a dusty table, its pages filled with arcane symbols. A moth-eaten rug covers a portion of the floor, and a cracked mirror hangs on one wall, reflecting distorted images. The air carries a musty scent, and I sense an atmosphere of abandonment and neglect.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>You pick book and check it</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I reach out and pick up the old book. Its pages feel brittle and fragile in my hands. As I flip through the pages, the text appears to be written in a language I can't comprehend, filled with cryptic symbols and diagrams. It's a tome of secrets, but its meaning remains elusive.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>see book cover</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I examine the cover of the book, trying to discern any details despite the dim light. The cover is worn and weathered, and it bears an intricate design of what appears to be a coiled serpent, its scales formed from shimmering, iridescent colors. Above the serpent, there's a title in elegant script, but it's written in a language I can't decipher. The book exudes an aura of mystique and ancient knowledge.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Is there a place to go? What about the door?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I turn my attention to the room's exit, the door. It stands tall and imposing, made of heavy, dark wood. There's a tarnished doorknob, and the door appears to be slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of what lies beyond. It beckons me to explore further, promising unknown adventures or perhaps even more mysteries.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>try to open</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I approach the door and grasp the tarnished doorknob. With a gentle push, the door creaks open, revealing a corridor shrouded in shadows. The faint glow from the room behind me barely penetrates the darkness ahead. I step cautiously into the corridor, ready to uncover the secrets that lie beyond.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>foward.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I proceed forward down the shadowy corridor, my footsteps echoing faintly in the dimness. The path ahead seems endless, and the air grows cooler as I delve deeper into the unknown, guided only by the flickering light behind me and the anticipation of what awaits.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>foward and look around</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: Continuing down the corridor, I take a moment to look around. The walls are lined with faded, tattered tapestries depicting scenes of ancient battles and mythical creatures. The torch sconces that once held flames have long since burned out, leaving only empty brackets. The air feels heavy with history, and there's a faint, eerie whispering that seems to emanate from the walls themselves, as if they hold secrets untold.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>keep going until you discover something</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I press on, the corridor seemingly endless. My journey is shrouded in uncertainty, but I persist, driven by the need to discover what lies ahead. The shadows deepen, and the air grows colder as I continue, my curiosity and determination unwavering.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>stop! you here that?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I halt in my tracks, straining my ears to listen. There's a faint, distant sound, almost like a whisper carried on the wind. It's indistinct, but it holds a mysterious allure, beckoning me to investigate further.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>listen carefully</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I listen intently, my senses sharpened as I focus on the elusive sound. It becomes clearer, a haunting melody that seems to weave through the very air itself. It's both captivating and eerie, drawing me closer to its source with each haunting note.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>who play that?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: The source of the haunting melody remains elusive, hidden in the shadows. It's as if the music emanates from the very walls, an ethereal presence that defies explanation. There is no visible musician, yet the music continues to fill the corridor, casting a spell of enchantment and mystery.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Head to the source of the sound and investigate (dice roll)</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I heed the roll of the dice and embark on a quest to trace the source of the haunting melody. Each step takes me closer to the enchanting sound, and as I round a corner in the corridor, I come upon a door, slightly ajar, from which the music seems to emanate. My heart races with anticipation as I push the door open, eager to unveil the secrets that lie within.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>When you open the door, there...</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: When I open the door, there stands a grand chamber bathed in an otherworldly glow. In the center of the room, an ornate grand piano commands attention. The keys move on their own, playing the haunting melody that had drawn me here. But there's no one at the piano.The room is adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded mirrors, reflecting the surreal scene before me. Candlelit chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a warm, flickering light that dances across the walls. The air is filled with an intoxicating fragrance, a mix of ancient incense and delicate flowers.At the far end of the room, a figure cloaked in shadows stands beside an enormous, antique bookshelf filled with tomes of forgotten knowledge. Their presence is enigmatic, and their intentions remain unclear.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>look piano</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I approach the grand piano, its keys still playing the haunting melody. As I inspect it, I notice that there are no visible hands or fingers touching the keys. It's as if the piano itself is possessed by some unseen force, creating the music with an ethereal touch.The piano is a masterpiece of craftsmanship, adorned with intricate carvings and inlaid with precious gemstones. Its keys are made of polished ivory, and they move in perfect harmony with the haunting tune. It's a surreal and mesmerizing sight, leaving me both entranced and bewildered.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Be careful, it might be a man-eating piano.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: I heed the caution and approach the grand piano with caution. Although it plays on its own, I remain wary of its mysterious nature. The possibility of a man-eating piano lingers in my mind, adding an extra layer of tension to the already surreal scene.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>the piano suddenly stops</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: The abrupt halt of the piano's music sends a shiver down my spine. The chamber falls into an eerie silence, broken only by the flickering candlelight. It's as if the very essence of the room holds its breath, waiting for what comes next.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>You feel disgusted and turn around. What happened?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: As I turn around, a wave of revulsion washes over me. My senses reel in disgust at the sight before me. The figure that had been cloaked in shadows has now revealed itself, and it is a grotesque, nightmarish entity. Its form is a twisted amalgamation of human and beast, with grotesque, elongated limbs and a maw of sharp, jagged teeth.The once opulent chamber has transformed into a nightmarish lair, with walls adorned in macabre art and gruesome trophies. The air is thick with the stench of decay and despair. I am trapped in a surreal and horrifying nightmare, unable to escape the clutches of this abomination.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>it scary. what will you do?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: Fear courses through me as I confront this nightmarish entity and its gruesome lair. In this realm of horrors, I must make a decision. I choose to... confront the entity, my curiosity and determination outweighing my fear, as I seek to uncover the mysteries and secrets that lie within this twisted nightmare.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>how?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: With trembling resolve, I take a step forward, slowly approaching the grotesque entity. I attempt to communicate with it, asking it what it wants or why it has brought me here. My voice quivers, but my determination to unravel the enigma that surrounds this nightmarish realm remains steadfast.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>any result?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: The grotesque entity regards me with malevolent, glowing eyes, its jagged maw twitching with an unsettling smile. It responds with a guttural, incomprehensible language, filled with whispers and hisses. It becomes apparent that communication with this entity is futile, and its intentions remain shrouded in darkness.As I continue to stand before this nightmarish being, I feel a growing sense of dread, realizing that escape may be the only option left.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>surely. what will you do?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: With no hope of communication or understanding, and the nightmarish entity's menacing presence growing more oppressive, I decide to make a hasty retreat. I turn and rush toward the door through which I entered, driven by the instinct to escape the horrors of this surreal nightmare.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>Did it go well? Or Bad?</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">ChatGPT</div><div>&lt;rotating_light ALPHABREAKrotating_light&gt;: My escape from the nightmarish realm was fraught with tension and fear, but I managed to reach the door and slam it shut behind me. The grotesque entity and its horrifying lair were left behind, at least for the moment. Whether it went well or bad is a matter of perspective. I survived the encounter, but the mysteries and terrors of that surreal place still haunt my thoughts. The experience was a chilling reminder of the unknown and the horrors that can lurk within it.</div></pre><pre class="message"><div class="author">user</div><div>look around. what you see?</div></pre><pre class=" Permalink | 記事への反応(2) | 16:06

2024-03-26

米津玄師がLemonのPVヒールの靴を履いている理由

Everyone been wondering why Yonezu (last name) Kenshi (first name) is wearing the heeled shoes. In one of his interviews he said that once he dreamed a funeral. Everyone was sad, but suddenly someone in the first line started to whistle loudly, in a way that annoyed the other people. They all started to say that he wasn't respecting the dead person because he wasn't being in silence for him, but Kenshi knew that the man whistling was communicating with the dead one. That was their own unique way to recognize each other. Maybe the others will think you're crazy or something negative, but it won't change the love that the whistling man has for his dead friend. Turns out that Kenshi got inspired by this dream so in the sing he wore heeled shoes, because he wants to let us know that he doesn't care what others say, it's his special way to express himself, because Kenshi was affected by High-functioning Autism which brought him to be smarter than the average, but he couldn't handle with social relationships, that's why he never had many friends since a young age and everyone made fun of him because of his character.

米津(姓)ケンシ(名)がなぜヒールの靴を履いているのか、誰もが不思議に思っていることだろう。

彼はあるインタビューで、葬式の夢を見たことがあると言っていた。みんな悲しんでいたのに、突然一列目の誰かが、他の人たちを困らせるような大きな口笛を吹き始めた。

彼らは皆、口笛を吹いているのは死者に敬意を払っていない、死者のために黙っているのではない、と言い始めた。それが彼ら独自認識方法だったのだ。

しかしたら、他の人からは頭がおかしいとか否定的見方をされるかもしれないが、口笛を吹いている男が死んだ友人を愛していることに変わりはない。

というのも、ケンシは高機能自閉症の影響を受けていて、平均よりも頭がいいのだが、社会的人間関係をうまくこなすことができなかった。

This made Kenshi very sad and from then on he started to hate himself because of his very uncommon name (in Japan there aren't many people that have Yonezu as last name and no one, but Yonezu Kenshi, is called Kenshi or the spelling is similar, plus it sounds like a stage name as well) he thought he was strange and weird, an uncommon person who shouldn't have existed (in fact in Japan there is a very strong will to follow the mass, which means if the greater part of girls have bangs, then the girls without bangs will try to have them or if they remain what they are, they might be isolated because different from the rest of the population). But Kenshi to make us, his fans, satisfied, he decided to collaborate with many people in the 2017 like the animators for MHA, DAOKO and Suda Masaki.

このことがケンシをとても悲しくさせ、それ以来ケンシは自分名前の珍しさ(日本では米津を名字に持つ人は少ないし、米津ケンシ以外はケンシと呼ばないし、スペルも似ていない、 存在しないはずの珍しい人(実際、日本では大衆に従おうとする意志が非常に強い。つまり、前髪のある女の子が多ければ、前髪のない女の子も前髪を作ろうとするし、前髪のないままだと、他の人とは違うという理由孤立するかもしれない)。しかし、ケンシは私たちファンを満足させるために、MHAのアニメーターDAOKO菅田将暉など、2017年活躍した多くの人々とのコラボレーションを決めた。

He changed during his musical career, like the time he was still Hachi (ハチ) and he felt somehow lost in all of his fame, so he made this song wearing heeled shoes and then the next song, Flamingo, is very different from Lemon because many people started to listen and to know him after Lemon, but he wanted to know what they would think if Kenshi changed the rhythm and the kind, turns out that many of them were attracted by Lemon and they didn't like Flamingo, but they still subbed to Kenshi's YouTube channel. Thank you for reading all of this, English isn't my mother language so I'm sorry for the mistakes and as always, have a nice day :D

彼は音楽活動の中で変わっていった。例えば、彼がまだハチだった頃、有名になることにどこか迷いを感じて、ヒールのある靴を履いてこの曲を作った、 というのも、多くの人がLemonの後にKenshiを聴き始め、知るようになったからだ。しかし、彼はKenshiがリズムや種類を変えたらどう思うかを知りたかった。英語母国語ではないので、間違いがあってごめんなさい。

Edit: You can find a video summary of Yonezu Kenshi's life and all of his interviews, it's in Mandarin tho. I hope you have a good translator to understand what he's saying.

米津建志の人生インタビューの要約ビデオを見ることができます。彼が何を言っているのか理解するために、良い翻訳者がいることを願う。

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