Of course, multiple years is a long and normal amount of time to remember someone's brain fart.
DMing is hard. I acknowledge this. Weaving a story with words for long periods of time means you’re gonna say something silly sometimes when your brain blips. And it’s not your fault that it’s so silly that your players share it around turning it into an inside joke, immortalizing your brain fart moment forever.
My DM was narrating a scene between our tiefling rogue and the NPC she was romancing. He was trying to set the mood for their first kiss, up on a tower overlooking the city, looking into each others eyes. They’d just been on a romantic date, there was a bottle of wine between them. And this was their moment.
The NPC leaned in to kiss the rogue and the kiss was, according to our DM, “long and normal.”
The entire session went off the rails. We became ungovernable creatures of hilarity. How long is normal?
We are informed normal is six seconds and we devolve even further into chaotic paroxysm of laughter. The DM desperately tried to rein us in but for the rest of the session everything took a long and normal amount of time.
My betrothed and I would kiss each other while counting to six in our heads then declare afterward, “Ah yes! Long and normal!”
I accidentally told my school team about it, reasoning that they’d at least never meet the DM who lives out of state. They’d say we needed the scene to be the long and normal length, or hold a pose for a long and normal time.
At the end of the year I invited them to my house for a celebratory meal and was surprised when my DM joined the DnD video call early. My teammates looked at him, expressions slowly spreading into evil grins. “Long and normal!” They greeted him.
He turned a look upon me of utter betrayal while I hustled them out of my house.
“It’s been a year!” He cried at the unfairness.
“Maybe it’ll phase out by next year,” I told him.
This dates the OP's trip. These days you'd never be allowed on a plane with a safety pin!
When I graduated high school my folks decided to go on a family trip to Europe. I was extremely surly about this as I had an undiagnosed UTI but I was extremely excited to speak German with native speakers, convinced I would be an asset to my family across our travels.
Tragically, it was immediately apparent that three years of public school German meant I could communicate at the level of a first grader.
I was nonetheless elated when a child approached me at the train station to ask “Haben sie ein Kuli?” “Do you have a pen?” I was able to say, “Nein, aber ich habe ein Bleistift!” “No, but I have a pencil!” The kid seemed confused by my triumphant tone but borrowed my pencil anyway.
But my absolute greatest victory in vocabulary came during an airline check. They had me go through a metal detector, and they assumed my belt had set it off. I knew my belt was non reactive metal but! My favorite jeans had lost their zipper and I had them safety pinned shut.
The man approached me with a metal detector and seemed puzzled my belt wasn’t reading. I remembered the safety pin in the front of my jeans and I happened to know the word so I joyously announced, “Ich habe ein Sicherheitsnadel!” “I have a safety pin!”
As if to an infant, the man said slowly, “Nein, das ist sein Gürtel.” “No, that is your belt.”
I waved at my crotch and insisted, “Nein, in mein Hose ich habe ein Sicherheitsnadel!” “No, in my pants I have a safety pin!”
I couldn’t remember the name for zipper but luckily he caught the shine of the metal where a zipper should be and finally realized why this crazy American teenager was gesturing to her crotch. He scanned his machine over the offending pin which pinged and he cleared me to go.
I marched off to board the plane in a glow of pride that I had gotten to use an obscure word and the poor man got to return to his day.
Something I find incredibly cool is that they’ve found neandertal bone tools made from polished rib bones, and they couldn’t figure out what they were for for the life of them.
Until, of course, they showed it to a traditional leatherworker and she took one look at it and said “Oh yeah sure that’s a leather burnisher, you use it to close the pores of leather and work oil into the hide to make it waterproof. Mine looks just the same.”
“Wait you’re still using the exact same fucking thing 50,000 years later???”
“Well, yeah. We’ve tried other things. Metal scratches up and damages the hide. Wood splinters and wears out. Bone lasts forever and gives the best polish. There are new, cheaper plastic ones, but they crack and break after a couple years. A bone polisher is nearly indestructible, and only gets better with age. The more you use a bone polisher the better it works.”
It’s just.
50,000 years. 50,000. And over that huge arc of time, we’ve been quietly using the exact same thing, unchanged, because we simply haven’t found anything better to do the job.
And more Les Mis in the world just makes it more accessible for someone who may not otherwise be able to go see. If you can't see a really expensive professional performance where you have to travel to it, go see a local amateur group.
I've seen performances by amateurs with very little skill that were so incredibly enjoyable, often more than the professionals. Firstly, the people on stage are just having the best time, it's so exciting and they're making the most of it because their show probably only runs for a week tops. Secondly, the mistakes show they are human and you feel like you're on their side, supporting them telling this story to you. All round great experience.
All these things are natural human behaviours and we should all have opportunities to participate and watch no matter skill level or anything. Fully support this idea.
having grown up doing community theatre and then some professional shows, i genuinely believe from the very bottom of my heart it is crucial that any human with the desire to perform on a stage gets the chance as many times as they like. singing and dancing are innate to humanity yet we've made it inaccessible to all but the select few we deem "good enough" to tolerate. i think people with no pitch and no rhythm and who can't remember their lines should get to be in musicals and plays and choirs and i mean that.
and community performing arts groups & venues shouldn't have to rely on ticket sales to fund their programs. they should be paid for by taxes and freed to focus solely on engaging & enriching the communities in which they exist.
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you're welcome
trans women, i love you.
you were a woman yesterday. you're a woman today. you're a woman tomorrow. you're a woman forever.
trans women have existed long before those stuffy bigots sitting in a court room have. trans women will continue to exist long after they're dead and rotting in the earth.
hey if you're a UK resident can you sign this petition and if not please rb to spread the word
this is an official UK government petition that they have to respond to if it reaches 10,000 signatures
Humans can be heard yelling from one of the bedrooms. An alien crewmate, nicknamed Bob, goes to check it out, fearing the worst.
"plus 4, Uno."
"you bitch!"
the humans are gathered in a circle on the ground with colorful cards. one of them notices him.
"oh hey Bob, wanna join us? we're playing Uno."
Bob shakes his head and backs out of the room carefully.
Folks, friends, y’all…. esk*mo is a slur. I understand a lot of people don’t know that, I don’t want to be a dick about it, but I’ve been seeing it in fics. Wanna write “esk*mo kisses”? Just say “nuzzled noses” or something.
I’m not here to call anybody out, it’s been in multiple fics, I’m not vague posting. This is just a psa. 👍🏻
I feel confident enough to post these now. A collection of all the existing posters after some edits from the other post that got 13k notes! These are full size/quality. Go nuts.
You may use them for wallpapers, tabletop campaigns, whatever. Consider tipping me or buying a print or sticker on ko-fi here! If you do use them, let me know what for, or send pictures!