#my dopamine machine is BROKEN

[ballpitwitch]

PUP QUIZ with KEANU REEVES

“Who’s the puppy king?! I’m the puppy king!”

#*has 2 puppies in his lap* 'DO THEY KNOW EACH OTHER???' #Keanu Reeves #keanureevesedit #dilfgifs #dilfedit #* #HELLO SUNSHINE #me 5'4": i will pick him up #keanu has been here and hot my whole damn life #i take a certain special amount of solace in that #this was the first time i'd watched a late show in like a decade #i'm pretty sure i made sounds that only whales can hear #or like a broken fax machine #dopamine hit #do i wanna be keanu or do i wanna be the puppies #.....depends on the day #yes you are the puppy king #dogs know when someone's good

[wuppydog]

chronic fatigue is still draining me today, I had to keep taking breaks every two minutes while packing for the trip this morning but I took double my Vyvanse b4 we left & that seems to be sustaining me enough I'm not a zombie. I also have a giant monster zero so... maybe that too.

(pls don't do that, I do not condone taking double of your medications, especially controlled substances lol it was like 140mg of Vyvanse that's not a good thing. I simply know how my medications affect me & have tried these medications in this dose b4 in controlled situations with supervision, do not try this at home kids, say no to drugs!)

#seriously though every time I'm just so dead on my feet tired lately #it's been Vyvanse that has saved me #maybe my dopamine machine is extra broken suddenly #💜

[mor-and-more]

My mental state is in the state of "choose your fighter" at all times

The fighters are the various disorders I have, and the chosen one has the rule of the land until voted out

I have no idea who is choosing them, I have no say in the matter

#shut up kevin #mental health? who IS she??? #this is how I'm severely paranoid one evening #then keep passionately yelling about FFXIV for a while #and have no ability to do a thing that isn't exciting in between because suddenly the dopamine machine stopped working again #I've never seen a McDonald's ice cream machine be broken for a moment #but my brain's dopamine machine functions about like McD's ice cream one in the popular jokes

[gallusrostromegalus]

I apologize for going through and liking/reblogging half your posts back to June, but I like your vibes. Unrelated, after some time I realized you were into Bleach which I know absolutely nothing about, and I started casually reading one of your posts about it. After skimming over mushy elephants and coral polyps and life generating machines I got to this line: “the afterlife of Soul Society is Sort-of geographically connected to ‘About 12% of central Japan (centered on one city), part of the Black Forest in Germany and an exceptionally deserted section of the Chihuahuan Desert’”, and I decided you are a much stronger person than I am.

Idk what the point of this message is, I just love how tumblr lets me happily sift around in your basement for some trash while leviathans the likes of which I cannot possibly fathom rumble ominously overhead

NEVER feel bad for spam-liking/reblogging, that's what this website lives on.

ESPECIALLY do not feel bad on my part because my activity page has been broken since 2015 so I don't even notice.

I wouldn't necessarily call my worldbuilding "Strength" so much as "Mining All Available Dopamine out of a Hyperfixation while I go through a Rough Patch" (I'll be Okay, the worst of it is over it's just long and obnoxious and very, very boring)

...But I do have a 200lb deadlift so I may be stronger than you in a Physical Sense.

I am happy to have you sifting through my blog, but I am no Leviathan. I am a 5'4" thirty-something with bad knees and dogs that are smarter than me. We're all just people here.

[feedyoutillpigsfly]

I come home to the daily groceries I ordered at the front door, ready to be brought in. Even just a few months prior, you would have attempted to at least bring them in the front door, but as of late you have been feigning that you didn't hear the doorbell when it arrived. I let you keep that little white lie because it made you feel less useless. Even though at this point you basically were. Your attention span broken by the constant stream of dopamine flooding your brain from weed, constant sex, food and nicotine, your job had let you go for mental decline before your mobility even became that much of an issue. Since being fired, you put all your energy toward doing as little as possible while consuming as much as possible. I literally once came home to you bored and sad because I forgot to make sure the tv remote and phone charger were near you before leaving for my double shift. The remote was on the coffee table directly ahead but with your belly taking up so much lap, it would be impossible to grab without getting all the way up... Or at least this is what was justified to me upon arriving home. At that point, it had honestly already been a while since you had attempted such a feat alone, as I had been assisting you for one reason or another from the bed to the couch and back daily for longer than either of us could remember. I think back with a shiver of what life was like when you passed 600 pounds; when although you couldn't reach your junk to masturbate, you could at least shuffle to your feet and complain about your back aching while taking some steps. Now having long passed 900 it had been a few years since your feet had touched the floor. Your daily medication list long and full of the best medicine has to offer, and as high doses as had been tested safely on humans, their usefulness had begun to decline. We plug along 12 times a day, every 2 hours, with a high fructose high adipose liquid diet aiming for bigger. Your lips and cheeks and throat had become so encapsulated by the sticky fat that you found yourself choking on solid foods about 50 pounds ago. The look of desperation in your face when I replace the bi-pap you now lived in, temporarily with your feeding tube. You sputter and gasp and cough as your poor pathetic body tries to remember how to breathe on its own again. I give you only 5 seconds of grace before placing the tube down your throat and clipping the supports to the back of your head. The liquid comes quickly, and your eyes blink in the same shock I get to see a dozen times a day when I awake you from your persistent food coma for your next feed. Your sea of belly shakes with a start as the liquid pours into it, and I watch as within 2 short minutes, not long enough to become starved of oxygen, you inflate from your belly. I swear everytime I see it, you get even bigger than last time. You wince and moan and I realize I havent heard your voice in a while, and I wonder if you still even know how to talk. The word no had long been forgotten and any trace of resistance was shredded by the years of catering to another humans wishes. Once the machine times out, I quickly give you your precious apnea mask back and the air transfers with more intensity as you catch your breath from the feeding. I place one of your hands on your belly and your little sausage fingers use the opportunity to rub your distended tummy in the one small section you can reach and In that moment I know you're just as enamoured with your mass as I am.

#bhm weight gain #ssbhm #fat belly #fatboy #female feeder wanted #female feedist #male bhm #feedee encouragement

[caffeinesam]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who reblogged something from you! get to know your mutuals and followers (ू•‧̫•ू⑅)

I had just read yours and was thinking about it 😅

1. Reaching physical exhaustion. Like, burning up every ounce of energy I had for the day and crashing into my bed to sleep. I'm cursed with abnormal endurance so I'm not able to fit this into my schedule often...

2. Building. Renovating. Making some broken machine work again. Guaranteed dopamine. 10/10. Even Ikea furniture does the trick in a pinch.

3. Human-wary animals being curious, or wanting to be friendly.

4. All-nighters with friends. Talking and bullshitting until no one's left awake at the crack of dawn.

5. The woods. The deep, dark, lively woods. The moss. The smells. The weird rocks that shouldn't be there.

[bocceclub]

I love that fixing fucked up code is my entire job. If I didn't have a biophysical machine to maintain I could do this for 72 hours straight without complaint. Just point me to a mangled nightmare of a webpage and let me go wild. My half-broken ADHD dopamine feedback system lights up like a christmas tree when I hit preview and all the strings of code I went over with a fine tooth comb resolve into a beautiful clean hierarchically logical webpage. maybe I did inherit my father's engineer autism after all

[reduxulousoctopus]

Fics that I'm (Probably) Never Going to Write, Part 1/uhhhhhhhh

Depression is an absolute bastard. Anyway, here are a bunch of ideas for fics that I'm (probably) never going to write because I don't have the energy/focus/time, in the vain hope that putting them out in the universe will eventually result in them coming back to me in the form of completed works that I can rub all over my gross, itchy eyeballs. Or at the very least, maybe talking about one of these ideas with somebody will kick the dopamine machine back into working order long enough for me to actually write it myself.

All are DCAU and mostly focused on the Flash cause that's where I'm at right now.

--

"Mosaic"

When one of the Guardians goes rogue and begins abducting entire cities from across the universe (including Earth's own Central City and a colony of exiled Thanagarian pacifists), John Stewart agrees to come out of retirement for one last mission. He and the few surviving Green Lanterns defeat the "Mad Guardian" with the help of Vixen, Shayera Hol, and the Flash, though not before the stolen cities find themselves forcibly relocated to the surface of the planet Oa and combined into a patchwork superstructure of domed alien ecosystems.

Only then is the true nature of John's mission revealed to him: the seemingly-immortal Guardians are about to die, and have chosen him to be their first potential replacement. Until the old Guardians can regain the power necessary to return each city to its respective home-world, which they estimate will take about an Earth year, presiding over this "Mosaic of Worlds" will serve as John's final test.

[post-JLU, John Stewart/Mari McCabe established relationship, John Stewart & Shayera Hol & Wally West friendship, massive cast of characters, scifi/political thriller/drama, very long (equivalent to a season of television)]

--

"Runaway"

Wally doesn't know how long he drifted without form or consciousness before he appeared overlooking the crib of Danica Williams, a seemingly ordinary baby girl with whom he shares a strange metaphysical connection. Unable to be perceived by anyone else or interact with the world around him, and unable to leave the girl's side without causing them both extreme pain, Wally spends the next seven years as Dani's beloved imaginary friend while struggling to piece together what little he can remember of his past life.

After waking one night to a large crash downstairs, Wally finds that a SWAT team have broken into the Williams home, captured Dani's parents, and are on their way upstairs to find "the girl." Dani and her ghostly companion flee the house and go on the run, following Wally's vague sense that they can find help in Metropolis. But to get there from San Fransisco, they'll have to cross a country which has never been more dangerous for metahumans, pursued all the while by the sinister organization which took Dani's parents, an obsessed FBI agent named Hunter Zolomon, and worst of all, a monstrous speedster hell-bent on dragging Wally back to the Speed Force for good.

[post-JLU, Wally West & Danica Williams, JL Founders friendship, thriller/mystery/near-future scifi/dystopia, fairly long]

--

"Where the Road Splits"

It's only natural for people who have been together so long to fight sometimes. That's literally what "old married couple" means. Wally is ready to retire and Bruce isn't. That's a shockingly normal thing for people whose lives are as weird as theirs to argue about. Hell, if Wally's powers weren't keeping them in peak physical condition, they would have been having this argument decades ago. It's fine.

Everything's fine.

or

Wally can't hold on much longer, Bruce doesn't know how to let go, and Terry has no idea how he got caught up in some ongoing marital spat between two cranky, elderly superheroes, but if none of their frankly ridiculous number of kids and grand-kids are willing to intervene, he's going to have to jump on that grenade himself to earn his chance at revenge--and redemption.

[Batman Beyond AU, dysfunctional old married Bruce Wayne/Wally West, Terry McGinnis/Dana Tan established relationship, family drama/coming-of-age/near-future scifi]

#dc #jlu #batflash #wally west #john stewart #shayera hol #mari mccabe #bruce wayne #terry mcginnis #danica williams #my stuff #fics I'll never write #(probably)

[corpocyborg]

5 Songs, 3 Outfits

Saw this tag game floating around and wanted to participate.

Tagging @daerani, @dataheights, @heartofarasaka, @luvwich, and @gamerkitten!

Rules: Post 5 songs associated with your OC, followed by 3 outfits they would wear.

I’m going to do one for both “variants” of my OC, but I’m going to post them separately and tag different people in each.

Post-Mikoshi Valerie "V" Locke - Arasaka's Android, as in "Beyond the Event Horizon" on AO3.

Songs - Aggressive & violent, extremely loud, industrial rock, music an evil robot would listen to. New Future Weapon - Billy Idol With a hundred and eighty miles You can press my button and see Faster than a mach 5 I can make you bleed

Corporate Killer - Irving Force The means seem justified Branded, you toe the line All contracts signed with lead Big picture, bleeding edge

Professional Killer - KMFDM So calm, tracking your every move Unrelenting, my conscious clear Beyond a shadow of doubt A force to be feared

Merchant of the Void - 3TEETH ft. Mick Gordon I swallow all your data I'm the ghost in the machine You give me all you're made of For a hit of dopamine

My Name Is Ruin - Gary Numan When they called me broken, I knew When they called me evil, I knew When they called me ruin, I knew I would always find my way to you Outfits - Combat-ready, mostly black, well put-together, cyberninja techwear style.

Other version of Valerie Locke (Director of Counter Intel) can be found here.

#tag games #valerie locke #corpo v #arasaka #cyberpunk 2077

[arunneronthird]

Hello, just popping my head in to tell you how much of an amazing artist you are. I discovered your tumblr just a little while ago and I’ve scrolled endlessly down ur feed ever since bc there’s smthng abt your art that just generates dopamine like a broken lotto machine?? Thank you so much for feeding the dc fandom, I’m just obsessed w your style! Your Damian and Jon is especially cool :)

thank u so much! its so v nice to hear this honestly

i am somehow having war flashbacks cause my blog is a mess and i dont wanna erase the old art but ahfjakfjg what was i doing

but anyway im v happy to be here now! the dc fandom is a bit wild but its fun, and i am first and foremost a sucker for batman comics so im so glad people enjoy my stuff, specially my boys gremlin and boy scout #2!

#thank u so much! this was such a sweet thing to send #im having fun and honestly all i want is for people to have fun with me

[chenisthebestkitty]

It's so weird but awesome what owning a cat is doing to my brain.

Like... I have a broken reward mechanism in my brain. Usually after doing something I needed to do makes me feel BAD, like I just did something unforgiveable.

But for some reason, doing stuff for my cat not only gets a smidge easier almost daily, but it also gives me a big ole dopamine hit.

Scrubbing and refilling her fountain? Dopamine hit! Scooping the litterbox? Dopamine hit! Washing her dishes? All you can eat dopamine buffet!

Do you guys have ANY idea how much easier it is to wash my own dishes when I am doing hers anyways? It's legitimately lifechanging! Oh no, her blanky needs a wash! Better throw in some of my own laundry too, just to fill the machine. Her fountain is running low, I better get water for us both!

It's legitimately having such a huge impact on me and I am so glad for it! I was so worried I wouldn't be able to do this, but I find myself enjoying having a pet SO much!

#chen rambles

[dirtbag-linecook-kyloren]

brain machine broken today and yesterday but tomorrow is my first of two days off and I’m really hoping to get some Good Shit done

But until then I’m really excited about my revision of the first scene so you all can have it early!!!

(jokes on you the likes and shit are little dopamine hits I’m gonna use to write tomorrow. I live for validation.)

-

When Hux parks, turning the keys in his engine and taking a deep breath, his mantra begins. There are no words, as so often the English language fails him. Instead it’s a rhythm, a four count tapped from index to pinkie, his thumb moving down the line to a song only he knows. His apron is sprawled over the passenger seat from last night and Hux tucks his red bull into one of the pockets and slings it over his shoulder. He opens the door, grabs his coffee, then Phasma’s, climbing into the late morning sun and wishing he was still in bed. At half past ten, the doors to the Millennium Falcon are already unlocked. Mitaka stands behind the host stand, his gaze locked on the computer and his hands gripping a ceramic travel mug so tightly, Hux worries it might break in his grasp. “How bad is it?” Hux asks, leaning over to look at the computer screen. Then, he feels his own hand start to flex, the straining of disposable plastic under his fingers. “It has to be a joke booking,” Mitaka says. “Right?” Before Hux agrees, before he says anything else, he walks around the stand and clicks to open the booking, reading the notes. 25 people, 12 children. 9th birthday party, bringing own cake. Allergies per child emailed to management last week. “Who has their kid’s birthday party here?” Hux wonders aloud. “If they bother to email, though, I doubt it’s a joke. You check with Rey, but I’d set the tables up.” “We’ll have to put them along the wine wall,” Mitaka replies, wrinkling his nose. They both leave the host stand and walk into the dining room, looking around. Truly, there is no other place to seat a party larger than ten at one table. Since his first days of training, where he stood at Sloan’s elbow and watched her wait tables, Hus felt the existence of the wine wall was tacky. A dividing wall? Fine, a perfectly normal feature to have in a restaurant. It served to separate the main dining area from the bar seating. A dividing wall with over four hundred bottles of wine stored on it? Tacky, even if all the wine was good. Hux has sampled every wine offered at the Millennium Falcon; most of it isn’t good. “One of them is going to break a bottle,” Hux states before looking to Mitaka. “Make it Rey’s problem, I’ll let the kitchen know.” “Be careful,” Mitaka says. “They’ve been in a foul mood this morning.” Hux reads between the lines and heads back to the server alley so he can set his things down and clock in. The half an hour before customers come crawling in is a sacred time. Hux opens the blinds, checks all of last nights side work, and starts the tea and coffee machines. He grabs drink pitchers from the dish pit, turns the key on the soda machine, and fills the ice bin. After ensuring that all the front of house trash cans have bags, he finally allows himself a moments of peace, leaning against the prep table that runs along the back of the alley. His view of the kitchen is clear. Over a decade ago, Leia Organa and Han Solo were freshly married and looking to open their first jointly-owned restaurant. They followed the current trends in many places, when designing the dining room, and chief among them was the open kitchen. A chest high counter, a foot of space, and a shelf, the bottom of which held heat lamps, leaving the top clear for plates and to go containers. Here, at the start of the line, there was only the barest view of the kitchen. This drew the eye rather quickly to the end, where a large, plexiglass shield surrounds a wood-fired grill the size of a twin mattress. The concept of open kitchens fell out of fashion right in time for both the marriage of Leia and Han and the economy to fail. Han spent most of his savings buying out Leia’s half of the restaurant, and had no money left over to remodel the inside, so the plexiglass stayed, just like the log columns and dumb, expensive dividing wall. With his shit all sorted out and ten minutes to open, Hux’s morning becomes a waiting game. Phasma, at the station closest to the server alley, is still setting up her line. She;s working on something at a cutting board out of view, so it would be useless for him to approach until she’s finished. But the clock will soon tick over to eleven and the doors will open. They’ll both have to do their job, leaving no time for idle chatter. Luckily, Phasma piles something into a pan and cleans her knife and board, so Hux grabs both of the coffees and heads over. He closed last night, so he has at least seven more hours of restaurant gossip than Phasma does. Before he says anything, he passes her coffee over the small section of counter with no overhang. Other servers use it mainly to place chilled forks and pepper mills. Hux and Phasma have turned it into a perfect space for conversation. “You’ll never guess who’s officially dating,” Hux says, grabbing a soufflé cup of spiced pecans. Phasma gives him a look about it but says nothing, proving that she, at least, is in an exceptionally good mood. “Dameron and Finn,” she parrots back, and Hux frowns. “You could have let me have fun with the reveal,” he tells her, “I had a whole bit about their awkward flirting, and now I don’t feel like sharing it.” “Finn has already made multiple sappy posts on Instagram about it,” Phasma says, pulling out her phone and turning it to show him a truly hideous slide show. “They’re children, honestly.” “Gross.” He pauses a moment to drink his coffee, and then remembers the literal children’s birthday party that’s going to happen in their dining room. “Also, I hope you cut plenty of chicken tenders.” It only takes a second to lay out the details of the party, during which Hux plays his favorite game, stealing croutons until Phasma hits him. Today, he almost hits a new high score with twelve. As they’re discussing how strange it is to drag a dozen children two a nice steakhouse, a voice in the back of the restaurant starts screaming. Practiced in dealing with this, they continue talking, tuning out shouts about broken sauces and wasted product. When the yelling stops, Phasma shoots him a look. “And yet,” she says, “women are the emotional ones.” Her joke is punctuated by a sip of coffee, and she raises the cup in thanks before setting it on top of the window, just out of customer’s sight behind all the plates and containers. A few minutes to open Rey comes out of the office, clipboard in hand, and posts on the cork board the section chart and side work assignments. As opener, Hux already knows that he’ll have tables one through five until the full staff is on, where he’ll go down to just the first three tables, all of them booths along the entrance wall. His side work will be butter and forks and he’ll have to roll thirty silver; just another Monday. Heading back into the alley, Hux ties his apron and takes a deep breath, tapping his mantra on both hands before adding sugar to the tea, his last task before the doors unlock. It’s then, of course, that Ben Solo decides to stalk into the alley, a glare set so deeply in his face , Hux worries it may get stuck. “Who’s serving the party?” Solo asks, voice devoid of inflection. It could be worse, Hux supposes. He could still be shouting. “That would be a question for someone else,” Hux replies. “Aren’t you lead server?” “It’s a loose role,” he says, aiming for a joke, but either way Solo chooses to take the comment is fine. Technically, Hux took the title of Lead over from Sloan when she went to part-time. In reality, she was still doing most of the duties alongside him. Either way, assigning large parties was not the task of a server, lead or no. “I have things to do,” Solo says, and Hux rolls his eyes. “I’d suggest you go do them, then.” And then, Hux is left in blissful silence, allowed to savor the last few moments of quiet. At least, until a pot drops in the back, and the sound of Solo’s wordless shout echoes up into the dining room. Three months ago, Hux’s quiet mornings were ruined when Han Solo hired his son as a line cook and keyed manager. Family business, or something. But for all that Solo had, in theory, worked at a Michelin star restaurant, there was much left to be desired from his workplace behavior. If one server told another the kitchen was having a rough morning, what they meant was stay clear of Ben Solo. A semester and a half from graduating and leaving serving behind, Hux has tried his best to bear through the insufferable nature of Solo. He just counted down the days until he never had to see his stupid face and even stupider pants.

#hands off hands out #kylux #kylux AU

[having-conniptions]

Just got worried for a sec bc my hyperfixations weren't giving me any dopamine but then I realized I'm tired my brain is tired I'm a McDonald's and the goddamn ice cream machine is broken tired

So just as a little reminder when the things you love suddenly bore you and it's kinda late you might just need sleep

#your ice cream machine is not broken #its just tired #let it rest #there will be more ice cream tomorrow #ill go to sleep now goodnight

[beardedmrbean]

Doge Asks 3rd Year Anniversary Special

*Lightning zaps a massive space ship hovering over a suspicious laboratory*

Scientist: Assistant! Status report!

Assistant: The ship's preparing to destroy the serotonin supply, Walter's still talking to thin air, and the catgirls's gone stir crazy again!

Scientist: That's not a report. That's just stating the obvious!

*Le Catgirl scratching the door has arrived*

Catgirl: Outside!

Doge: Come one folks! There's gotta be something we can do to save this 3 year running joke!

Anti-Doge: We could also make a new inverse character. It's always unexpected!

*Le everyone waiting silently and nothing happens has arrived*

Anti-Doge: The Wowish Inquisition didn't show up. This is NOT good.

Doge: We don't need more inverse characters! Cheems is too busy fighting Yomgurt to help us!

Jim: And that Karen clone that's actually nice-

Anti-Doge: Caren?

Jim: Yes, Caren but not Karen, she's running an orphanage daycare now. She's not gonna care enough to help us...Ironic.

Murphy: What about anti-Walter? He's gotta be sane right?

Anti-Doge: Retlaw's on a holiday trip to the Alps.

*Meanwhile in le Alps*

*Le Retlaw yodeling has arrived*

Retlaw: My good name is Retlaw!

*Back in le lab.*

Murphy: Should we even expect Coach Henry to do something?

Doge: With any luck, he's still in jail.

Jim: Wellllll.

Doge: He IS still in jail, right?

Jim: Yeah, totally in jail. Never gonna help us up or save us down.

Scientist: Did you just Rickroll the great DOCTOR VON PROFESSOR?!

*Jim smiles*

Jim: Had to get one last on in before the end.

Murphy: What if we all get back in your time machine and see if Professor Von Doctor can help us?

Scientist: That's the M.U.T.T. and we can't use it. The M.U.T.T. would take too long and the time machine's broken. SOMEBODY decided to use it to create a temporal paradox and then a snazzy dressed alien with a flying blue rectangle broke it.

Doge: Well...I guess we're doomed. Come on guys, let's go on the subreddit and let everyone know this is the end.

Walter: Al! There's gotta be something we haven't tried yet!

Al: Sam, I know! Ziggy's running every simulation he can on hot to get that sorry excuse for a UFO outta here and keep everyone's dopamine intact!

Walter: Serotonin!

Al: They both keep you happy, it's the same thi- Wait a minute.

Walter: What?

Al: The percentage of taking that thing out of the sky's just gone from 0 to 1 percent. 2. 3. Something's happening.

Assistant: Doc! I've got something on the long-range scanners!

*Meanwhile in le space ship*

Captain: Report!

Weapons Dog: The Serotonin Stopper's at 85% power, sir.

Captain: That's not a report. That's just stating the obvious.

Weapons Doge: Yes, sir. Weapons will finish charging within a minute. Then Cringeville will be destroyed, along with the last reserves of serotonin. Then with no reason for anyone to try, we would've finally put a long overdue end to this terrible running joke that's been going on for 3 years.

Captain: Now THAT'S a report.

Weapons Doge: Thank you, sir.

Captain: You may fire when ready.

Scanner Doge: Captain, we've detected a single fighter jet on a course directly to us.

Captain: A single fighter? We've got a space ship with city destroying capabilities. Who on Earth would be crazy enough to take us on fight a single...Wait.

*Le fighter jet soars through le clouds towards le space ship*

*As the clouds clear, the name on the jet can be seen, "Bonker 35"*

Captain: FIRE ALL WEAPONS NOW!

Weapons Doge: I can't, they're not charged! The plot won't let me!

Communications Doge: We're getting a signal from the fighter. Putting it onscreen.

*The fighter pilot appears and takes off his mask*

Doge Anon: Hello boys! I'M BAAAAAACK!

*Le missile launches into le space ship and turns it into fireworks*

Doge: Well, that was convenient!

Murphy: My tractors are saved!

Doge: And so are Walter's fire and monster trucks!

Anti-Doge: WOOOO!

Scientist: Good to see the lab wasn't destroyed again. If it released the thing in the basement before it was ready, that would've been a disaster.

*Meanwhile in le basement*

*A very small thing floats in a green tank*

Thing: Sssoooooonnn.

*Back in le ground floor*

Assistant: Good. That would've been messy.

Anti-Doge: All this to say that it's great to be back! This calls for a musical number! HAND ME LE MIC!

Doge: Oh no, you don't, I'm singing this one first!

*Le fighting over le mic as September by Earth, Wind & Fire starts playing*

Walter: So we did it?

Al: That's right, Sam. Everything goes mostly back to normal. Karen gets to angry, she drops into a hate coma for a month, giving Doge some much needed time off. Anti-Doge goes on to give the best punchline of his career.

*Le Anti-Doge punches Doge*

Al: Yeah, there it is. And Lilothy becomes the first mayor of Cringeville to be a minor.

Walter: He does?

Al: Sworn into office right before his 18th birthday, so it counts. Oh and...Uh, that's gonna be ugly when it happens.

Walter: What? Does someone take him out?

Al: No, he goes on to serve 8 terms and does fine. This one's about that thing in the basement below us. It's not pretty. Good news for you though is you eventually go on to own an emporium that sells fully functional fire trucks to dogs everywhere at a reasonable price.

Walter: So I'm gonna leap outta here?!

Al: Yeah, just as soon as-

Murphy: Hey Walts! How about after this, we go down to your place and have a round of quarter pounders, on me?

Walter: Sure. That sounds nice.

Al: Bye bye crazy world.

*Le blue light engulfs Walter*

Walter: Ah, FINALLY!

*Le Sam leaps into the body of someone holding clippers to a wire in a box*

Bomb Squad guy: Come on, Anderson, pick a wire. This thing's gonna go off in 40 seconds.

Sam: Oh boy!

---

Happy 3 years of cringey jokes, Nunya. Hopefully next year's more active than this one, and I hope you still enjoy it!

-Doge Anon le first

Submitted, obviously, by Doge Anon

I was gonna try and do something but nothing that came to mind could top this you've sent so I went simple since I can't compete anyhow.

We're a couple years behind the subreddit, but that's just fine.

It's a good day, got a doge ask

#submission #doge asks #yay #doge anon

[bandofchimeras]

notification chaos

my phone being broken made me realize how much peace & clarity of mind it gives me to not be on-call 24/7 and connected to all these apps.

BUT without being logged on, i don't see events, news updates and calls to action for so many vital activism campaigns like jail support, mutual aid, and aiding Palestinian families to evacuate Rafah...tbh it would be amazing to have a social media scanner app that could scan instagram and twitter (hell hell hell) and signal and telegram and put it all in an RSS feed or like a to-do list or calendar or at least an email or SOMETHING I wish to all hell I understood app development.

I would make something like this too for messages - a notification filter app to intercept signal, text, telegram, insta, fb messenger, whatsapp, discord direct messages into a single Command Center with priority folders like Gmail has. You could sort your messages. For me it would be: organizing/activism, personal, family, appointment reminders/housekeeping messages, community group chats. obvious & easier answer is to stop using everything but one app. however not everyone I need to connect to is on one app. our brains were not made to be 24/7 message answering machines. I am unable to manage my ADHD w social media always right there ready to deliver a huge rush of adrenaline, fear, anger, or even just little dopamine hits of notifications. these applications are designed to be addicting and my body is screaming at me to reclaim my attention. might start telling people they have to call me to catch up. texting & social media is no longer fun. it used to be fun. now it is hell. you have to two step verify everything and there are ads and politics and constant attention bombardment & I'm an ancient Linux trying to keep up with like, brushing my teeth and eating more than one meal a day. aghhhhhhh

#apps #this is the worst possible timeline for technology usage #its all survelliance and coporate interests #and attention overload #you can tell me to git gud at managing it but frankly I CANNOT and do NOT WANT TO spend my time mastering these stupid constantly changing #apps and messages and devices i am become boomer please let me outside to go fish and carry a Nokia

[gophergal]

A Note About Requests:

I have a couple spicy requests in Ye olde inbox, and I will do them, but they're getting posted censored. I can't risk having my dopamine machine broken whfbehcb

#gopher rambles #gopher update #not sure where ill put the uncensored version though