Cesar sang praises to her mouth, which could be interpreted to be about her actual mouth, her oratory skills, or her oral skills. Knowing how Romans loved innuendo, probably both.
No quarter for fascists!
No they didn't crossbred it. Fungi and plants are so far apart in the tree of life that suggesting this is ludicrous. You can't get a fungal spore and place it in a petunia's flower and get a hybrid.
DNA manipulation in a lab and selective breeding are fundamentally different. It's silly to try to compare both.
That's a disingenuous argument. You can't selectively breed an completely foreign gene into an organism. I can't believe this even has to be said, but I guess the GMO lobby gets to people more than I thought.
No skipping leg day.
If you follow the original post, you'll see plenty of pedants have already stepped forward 😁 There are dozens of us!
And I lold too, which is why I wanted to share it here.
That makes more sense.
cross-posted from: https://lemmy.ca/post/45941426
Source: https://thejenkinscomic.wordpress.com/2025/06/10/wallet/
Especially shit.
The worst she can say is "NO".
Chiquita Banana says hi.
What sort of rag runs an article as hateful as this?
cross-posted from: https://lemmy.world/post/25115549
I posted this to AskLemmy a couple of days ago but someone suggested I cross post it here. Why not, right?
It is in response to this writing prompt:
Edit: I also got bored and decided to record a mini 'audiobook' version real quick.
If you wanna listen to my dumb ass read my own writing - Click Here.
Alarms suddenly flash, plunging the room into a deep red glow. The two security officers bolt up, the remnants of their conversation instantly evaporating from memory.
"ALL AVAILABLE OFFICERS. REPORT TO ENGINEERING."
The two exchange confused looks before grabbing their sidearm and heading out the door. The pulsating red glow of the alarms is constant and seems to keep pace with each footstep. All three tapping in a quick unison. The gleam of the hallways is definitely muted during any alert stance. Hard to tell the majesty of organic glass or a perfectly mopped floor when the lighting is brought down to about 25%. Ghymm hissed to himself that he'd have to file another complaint and get it increased to 28% at the very least. "I will fucking flashbang you, I swear to whatever a Christ is." Evidently Bhawwb had heard. Suddenly those evaporated memories came back from earlier.
"If you mention the lighting levels again..."
"BUT THEY'RE AWFUL!"
"We're on a spaceship. Tense things happen. Low lighting is useful. Shut up about the low lighting."
"BUT IT LOOKS BAD."
"AND IT MAKES FUNCTIONAL SENSE, SHUT UP GHYMM."
"And just how does me being unable to see shit make sense? Especially when then you can't see all the fucking chore work I did."
"Mostly it just makes sense to me. You wouldn't get it. And maybe you wouldn't have to do so much bitchwork if you didn't bother the Captain with your incessant whining about how the 'mood lighting' harshes your 'vibe'?"
".... First of all, rude. Second, makes sense to you how?"
"Well that way you won't see my boot coming when I shove it up your cloac-"
With memories caught up to the present, the screaming of the alarm in reality signaled it was indeed time to snap back to it before gravity went whoops. Both officers continued down the hall before a set of large opaque doors slid open. Silently. None of this namby-pamby human shit of specifically having the doors make noises that are as quiet as possible. Fungorian doors are the best doors in the quadrant, they'd have you know. Doors that are so good they're able to contain the unholy and inhuman screeching of a, well, human that has been beset upon by the gods of engineering and the damned. That is, until said set of Fungorian doors decides to open for two security officers that are bickering about a brightness value.
"Ohm-munching, capacitor-crapping, resistor-licking, diode-diddling, quantum-queefing GARBAGE!"
Ghymm and Bhawwb both stick their heads in through the open doorway just as an item that looks suspiciously like a monkey wrench sails an inch in front of their face. They pull their heads back into the hallway.
"I’ve spent years, YEARS, getting electrocuted by pissy little stupid volts and soldering my dumb human fingers together to figure out something better, and you’re out here still running the same fucking tea kettle just with extra steps?!
For the next 10 seconds they both stand, frozen, staring into the open doorway. Either one of two things was happening. Option one was that a set of various tools that once belonged to a human had become possesed with the soul of said humans. Hauntings were supposedly a thing. Just recently they had both seen a documentary film about a man being trapped in a large rich persons abode with many such dwellers that dare not move on. Such a common thing was it on Earth that all humans who were watching just seemed to laugh. Clearly a defense mechanism. Then again, option two was that a very angry human was just throwing shit around. Hoping (mostly) for the second, the two officers stepped in.
In the corner were two people. One Human, one Fungorian. Both wearing an engineering uniform. The human was kneeling with some archaic implement in his hand his head bumping against the ceiling, gesturing wildly with it while standing over the Fungorian, cowering on the floor, taking shelter against a wall. A wall that Bhawwb just knew Ghymm was thinking looked awful in this lighting. He was. It does.
"I... I don't know what you mean!"
"YOU'RE JUST BOILING FUCKING WATER."
"Yes!"
"WHY?"
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MEAN!"
"WHY DON'T YOU HAVE SOMETHING BETTER! WHERE IS THE ELEMENT ZERO. WHERE IS ELEMENT 710. WHERE IS A FUCKING TARDIS CORE OR SOMETHING. WHY DOES IT ALWAYS HAVE TO BE FUCKING WATER!"
The two officers look at each other, unsure of how to proceed in taking down the human that was, after all, several times larger than they were. Bhawbb nodded to Ghymm in a very particular way. The type of way one might nod when they're saying "Take out your sidearm, set it to stun, and HIT HIM. Ghymm nodded back in a less particular way, one usually just used for all varieties of "Yep."
"JOULE-SNIFFING, WATT-WHORE TURBINE FUCKERY! GODDAMN STEAM-FARTING, VALVE-TWISTING, PISS-HEATED PIECE OF SHIT!
The human raised his implement once more towards the machinery, ready to do God knows what. As it turns out, God didn't know what and was in-fact watching with extreme fascination. Ghymm, less fascinated and more terrorized, took out his sidearm and pointed it to the skyscraper sized human. He fumbled with the buttons, applying the seemingly correct stun setting and then pulled the trigger. The human instantly vaporized in a puff of smoke, leaving his gargantuan tool floating in the air for a moment before falling down and squishing the no-longer-threatened-but-maybe-a-little-threatened-afterall Fungorian engineer. A long pause hovers in the air, filled only by the alarm backing track of the room.
"What the fuck GHYMM?! I SAID SET IT TO STUN!"
"I hit the wrong button! I mean... maybe I wouldn't have if we were up to at least 28% brightness..."
Hey there, stranger! You're missed.