Finding Enough Plastic In Human Brains To Make A Spoon Is Certainly A Shocking Headline But I Just Don't

Absolutely wild seeing this on my dash from someone *outside* a certain podcast community

Where are all the other vintage computer/technology posters? Idk, maybe it's just me, but many of my regular sources seem to be going dormant. Come back, friends...

I found the jurgen leitner rant’s olaf-focused twin on hellsite genetics

God I fucking hate Olaf the snowman so fucking much holy shit. Holy shit, every frame he's in, every scene, every gif, every jpeg, he's got this painfully vacant, stupid as shit, fuckass look on his stupid lumpy face. Absolutely no part of his ugly as sin piece of shit character design is endearing. His stupid fucking legs? Who the hell makes a snowman with legs. His dumb flaily fucking twig arms? His shitty, lumpy bastard head? The three thousand percent unnecessary dumbass shitass fucking SNOW BUCK TOOTH that no snowman has EVER FUCKING HAD IN tHE HISTORY OF GOD'S GREEN FUCKING EARTH? God, I hate him. I hate him so much. So FUCKING much. Every time I see a stuffed toy Olaf or an Olaf gif or a shitty goddamn commercial, it ignites my primal rage response and I'm overcome by the need to punt this shitty little homunculus into the fucking sun. "Bhurr blur, I'm Olaf the fuckshit snow fucker, I like warm hugs". Fuck you. Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you. You look like Tow Mater summoned a patronus. Your dumb fucking twig hair makes your whole shitty head look like a hairy skin tag. I hate your dumb fucking lumpy carrot nose and your stupid, empty googly eyes and your over-the-top goofy ass upbeat asshole personality. Any scene he's sad it invokes all the wrath and fury of a spoiled child having a meltdown over a chocolate bar in a w*lmart checkout line. And I know its irrational. That's the worst part. I know he's just a shitty fucking side character in a stupid fucking children's movie, I know it doesn't matter, I know I shouldn't care. But that's part of the problem. The part where no matter the might and fury of my hatred, the locus of my homicidal intent is alltogether inconsequential. I find myself laying awake in the dark in the early hours of the morning consumed by the spirit of Wrath itself, all the force and might of a flaming hurricane directed at a bottle of piss in a ditch by the highway. The absurdity of it all burns me to my core. What better things could this energy be directed towards? And yet my disdain for this stupid, useless, insubstantial failure of endearing character design utterly eclipses the intrigue of all other pursuits. I hate him. I hate him on a level of my mind reserved for the worst of the world's array of sinners, and I can't even begin to justify it. Shitstick the snow dick is, for all intents and purposes, the animated corpse of all of humanity's saccharine pretenses- every condescending, passive-aggressive statement of meaningless upper middle class suburban drama distilled into a single, hateable form. The fucking. Fuck. I have no words. There is no cuss or epithet in any language that can encapsulate the height of the emotions I am experiencing. God, I hate him so much. I hate him so, so fucking much. I want to light his ugly little dumpster body on fire. I want to graphically beat him to death with his own stupid fucking nose. I want to punch him to death. You know that weird feeling you get, when you see a picture of something so cute you find yourself overcome with the bizarre, inexplicable urge to squeeze it? It's EXACTLY like that, except instead of cuteness it's disgust. The wordless knowledge that his existence as a fictional work is evidence of all the failures of mankind. I find myself possessed by the will of a Holy Angel gone rogue with the belief that God has made a mistake, and I alone must correct it. This is the trial by which Samael himself fell from grace. This wild, meaningless rage. A thousand blades of shining steel cast with inhuman force in the direction of a plastic grocery bag floating on a breeze. What horrors must I have committed in a past life to be plagued by this torment now? I must Unmake this fictional snowman

I made a half-joke once that martin is constantly about eight seconds away from murder and the only way he keeps himself from committing violence is by making tea. I think i was right

ok, i have finally gotten to season 5, and i have got to say one thing. this fanbase infantilizes martin to Hell and back and i do NOT understand how you can do it if you finished this damn podcast, i understand hes very sweet and he has a really cute voice but from 165 to 175 i think i have heard him pretty cheerfully ask jon to kill people about twice per episode on average,

wait

okay so you know Sasha's surnames is James and Tim's is Stoker

if we combine it

JOKER

THEIR SHIPNAME CAN BE FUCKING JOKERS AND WERE NOT USING IT???? WHY.

and they're literally the funny ones in the archives. they joke around with eachother a lot. COME ON PEOPLE

I didnt think this post could get better BUT THERES AN ANALYSIS OF IT NOW

which one of u was going to tell me that tea tastes different if u put it in hot water?

Genuinely not sure how separate the fears are. Maybe they’re completely separate like at the end of s5. Maybe they’re all one thing like Gerry’s colours. Maybe they’re both. Schrödinger’s fears

What are some of your favorite robotic attachments to put on a horse?

Inkling and Wobbling

Okay but jon is like mostly scar tissue by the end?? Counting off things that probably scarred:

- worms

- daisy kidnapping him

- michael stab

- shaking jude’s hand

- he was in the middle of a plastic explosive going off during the unknowing and no one talks about it. Like yeah he survived but also he was semi-dead for half a year, that shit probably left a mark (ha, ha) other than him becoming abruptly more avatarlike

- rib removal

- melanie stab

- i feel like im forgetting something but i cant say what