i love playing modded minecraft!! it's so fun to play a beloved game with fun new twists!!
that is until i enter any place with large amounts of sand, and i see a pointer on my minimap labelled "tarantula hawk"
i dont care how neutral the mob is, i know that creature by another name and brother i am NOT mentally prepared to approach a damn cazador without anything short of a 12 gauge shotgun in my hands
man i love locking in on dumb wall posts. i think i can say im pretty good with words (written words, anyway), and i *could* use that skill to write stories. i think i probably could make a good short story, like one of them 3-7 pagers that english teachers make you overanalyze. but i could also use it for dumb jokes. so like. y’know
Ive taken writing classes and started some stories but after awhile they go nowhere so i might as well use my ability for dumb jokes as well. Or who knows maybe i'll just lock in one day and actually finish one of my stories.
I love finding shipwrecks that just aren't shipwrecks
i mean it's NOT in good shape, it's missing a few things and there's water below deck. but it's still 90% of a ship, and it's still floating. it's not touching the ground, the hull is mostly in one piece, there's a couple small holes here and there but they could easily be patched up. all it needs is a sail, a bucket, and like 5 planks and it'd be perfectly fine lol, this ain't a wreck
i love the snowrunner subreddit. there's so many screenshots of people who crashed and got stuck in the lawndart position, might be my favorite genre of post
obligatory repost of this screenshot cause i've done this myself lmao
Fun Fact: Many fine dining establishments have a form of secret code among waiters to make their jobs more efficient, in the form of how items on dining tables are arranged. For example, a salt shaker on its side often indicates that the table needs to be cleaned because someone knocked over the salt shaker, and people eating food often means that the table should not be given to a patron that is awaiting seating.
The year is 2089. The world outside is gone, reduced to nothing but the ashes of atomic fire.
I remain alive deep underground in a bunker with one other, the two of us barely surviving off of dwindling rations. With us in the bunker is a relic of the old world, a single rack of servers, kept steadily powered by a small array of solar panels that rest on the scorched surface above. Housed within the servers are a select few wikipedia articles, acting as a rudimentary archive of human knowledge, and a website with the address of planetminecraft.com. The two of us are the only users left.
Well. That is, until the other fell sick. They passed in their sleep last night. Medical supplies ran out long ago, there was nothing either of us could do. Besides, a quiet death like that is a much better alternative to what everyone else faced all those years ago. I can only hope to meet such a fate myself.
Booting up the ancient laptop is a slow process, but I am no longer a stranger to time. I log on to the website. A sole green dot appears by the profile picture of RustToaster. The streak counter ticks up to 23,141. I look at the leaderboard. My username is at the top, followed by an account with a now terminated highest streak of 23,140. I glance back at the peacefully still body of my bunker mate, let out a cough, and gently close the laptop. My goal is finally complete.
“did you know that grass isn’t actually green, and that sight is just actually our brains trying to process energy in waves? you know what else is green? wing gaster”