This was always the silenced PP7 for me.

Wow. I’ve never seen this before and I really liked it.

I don’t fall asleep listening to anything but my fan, but reading knocks me the fuck out most nights. Sometimes I can’t make it through a paragraph before catching myself with my eyes completely closed.

Honestly, that’s on her for not liking the smell of cumin.

I still like Xonar cards, like the Xonar DG (though it isn’t compatible with my new PC). I always liked their interface more than the competitors, and it puts out excellent volume on my Logitech headset that is otherwise way too quiet for me. Never been a big fan of the simulated 3D environments on any of these cards, though. The only game it ever sounded decent in was No Man’s Sky, but even that still had a distant tinny sound to it.

I think most people just use external amplifiers these days, but I’m still using a third-party sound card.

Bruh…

I really struggle to enjoy crafting in Subnautica. Something about it just feels clunky and/or a step removed from me, and I don’t engage with it very well.

I love long open-world games, but I also reached a certain point in TW3 where I just burned out. It was weird too, because up until that point I was getting anxious over how little map I had left to explore. Then boom, I just lost my drive. Maybe I subconsciously sabotaged it so that I wouldn’t run out of game. I’d really like to try again sometime.

Well, that does sound better than the horseshit I’ve been served in the past.

Hard disagree. Gourmet mac just tastes like noodles and bland cheese gravy.

JENKINS WAS MY PA!!!

No, but I miss the days of smaller forums with user recognition. The last time I really recognized a user that wasn’t a mass repost bot was a user on the r/stalker (game) sub-reddit by the name of CeliceTheGreat. Every interaction and opinion we ever had were seemingly in solidarity with one another, and it was always a pleasure to encounter him on other subs occasionally. I doubt he was any more Russian than I am (American/Canadian), but I miss you, comrade, and think of you often.

Facebook.com

It’s so great, you guys… You would love it.

You should probably replace your detector.

There is nothing more pleasurable than swinging hard at a wasp and slapping that piece of shit. I also enjoy it when it doesn’t die immediately and has to think about it’s life and it’s choices.

Rockstar (2.25), 4pk of Snickers (4.40), Burger King Double Cheeseburger (3.50)… Shit, I went over. I don’t know how I could make any compromises here.

Bro grabbed that one Alduin skin off the Nexus.

Oh, botha… Wew… As dey say… When in da Hundwed Acre Woods… 🤷🥂

WHAT’RE’YA BOYYIN?!

While I don’t have it anymore, for years I had a recurring nightmare about the house I grew up in. There had always been unusual occurrences within, mostly auditory but sometimes visual. Looking back, I was never that spooked about it while living there. I honestly loved that property and have fond memories of growing up among all those old apple trees. But for years after moving out I would dream that I had returned to it, and it was very, very different.

In the dreams the house was dark and full of shadows. Completely devoid of furniture and decor. It was gray, empty, and wholly abandoned. While inside I could feel an overwhelming and foreboding precense. It was this feeling of fear and panic. Pure dread. There was something disturbing there with me as I traveled from room to room, nervously anticipating every new corner as the sun sank low and the shadows grew deeper inside. As the years progressed, I would find the house to be filled with spectral cats that accompanied me throughout, or darted around the rooms inexplicably, sometimes out of the corner of my eye and other times as clear as day. Though I couldn’t quite focus on them, I had the feeling these were all the cats I had owned growing up. Some of them cats I had owned and lost since originally living there. It was as though they were trapped in the purgatory of that haunting, empty dream house, and even though the cats seemed to be full of spunk, there was an immense sadness about them being there.

The dreams occurred with greater frequency into my late 20s-early 30s, until one night I simply stepped inside and realized there was nothing left to fear. Suddenly the house no longer bothered me. It stood still and silent. Cleansed somehow. There were no more shadows, ghostly cats or smothering prescences within. It was as though the both me and the house had been freed.

I haven’t dreamt about that house since, other than a snippet from another unrelated dream, where I found myself briefly gathered with a co-workers family on the back deck, but I didn’t realize where I had been until waking.