No, parrots are BIRDS. Honest mistake.

/s

You sound like you’d be a blast to hang out with. I mean that genuinely.

Ah, yes. This thing is horrible, maybe, but what about this other thing?

What a great argument. If only there were some kind of term for it.

Well, he does seem to be incapable of calming them.

Ah, Sierra. The game company almost singlehandedly responsible for creating a generation of masochists.

You’re still right.

Ehhhh… I’d classify that one as more Steampunk Fallout (1 or 2) or Baldur’s Gate. Not that that makes it bad - it’s great fun! Just maybe not what OP is looking for.

Optical Character Recognition. Essentially, software that “reads” an image and pulls text out of it.

They’re going to remove Palestine. Whether Hamas still exists afterward will be irrelevant, except maybe to serve as some nightmare boogeyman that Israel’s leadership can use to justify literally anything.

No! Damn it! The only thing I liked about his career more than B99 was going back to all of the other things I’d seen him in and recognizing him there. He was excellent on House - played a beautiful foil to Hugh Laurie all throughout Season 6.

Rest in peace, Captain. You will be sorely missed.

This is kind of the beginning of Zayne Carrick’s story, tbh - from the Knights of the Old Republic comics - and I’m surprised they haven’t done anything with that one yet. I’d probably watch it, too, even though we’re living through a time of Endless Trash.

It’s still way more than “none”. Let’s not let perfect be the enemy of good.

My dad loves to yell. Not at me, anymore, but he got it from his mother - they used to work out their problems in the form of screaming matches. I remember early in my teenage years he would bring up, almost out of nowhere sometimes, that he never hit us. He was proud of that. But man oh man, he sure loved to yell at us.

I only remember my grandfather yelling at me, once. It’s not even fair to say “yelling AT me”, because he was yelling FOR me - I was a dumb kid and I’d left the front door open to go outside and play. Once I got in front of him, he explained to me - calmly, quietly, but firmly - why I couldn’t do that. I never did it again. I don’t remember him yelling before or since that moment.

I miss my grandfather - he’s the source of some of my fondest childhood memories and I can only hope I do him proud. Meanwhile, when my dad dies, I’ll be glad to be rid of him. So, you do the math.

Thank you for this. I have T1D and it seems like every other day I’m hearing about a new cure for diabetes and other autoimmune diseases. Good to know that this isn’t just more clickbait. Still not getting my hopes up yet but I’ll be interested to see where this goes.

Last time I looked into it, it was closer to 4 million to “never work again” if you were in your mid-30s. Nowadays, even that figure is probably not enough. Your point still stands, however.